mm 
 
 
 
 3m 
 
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AMERICAN PROGRESS 
 
 THE GREAT EVENTS 
 
 HE GREATEST CENTURY, 
 
 INCLUDING ALSO 
 
 LIFE DELINEATIONS OF OUR MOST NOTED MEN. 
 
 "They love their land because it is their own, 
 And scorn to give aught other reason why." HALLECK. 
 
 BY HON. R. M. DEVENS, 
 
 OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH OVER THREE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 C. A. NICHOLS & COMPANY, SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 
 
 HERBERT S. RKED, TOPEKA, KAN. 
 1890. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by 
 
 C A. NICHOLS & CO. 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
C1UMPTON ACCESSION 
 MMCffOFT LJBRAB 
 
 "A nation's character is the sum of its splendid deeds." HENBY CLAY. 
 
 LORIOUS beyond historic parallel have been the achievements 
 of our national career. To worthily record them is the schol- 
 ar's pride. To be familiar with them is the patriot's 
 duty and delight. In presenting this new work the publish- 
 er's aim is to supply the demand for a unique portrayal of a 
 great and eventful century. 
 
 As the course of a distant mountain chain is indicated by those lofty peaks which 
 rise to meet the sun, so a people's social tendency and political and scientific advance- 
 ment are revealed in those extraordinary names and deeds which rise into 
 the light of immortality. 
 
 Michael Angelo wrought into nine most wonderful frescoes on the ceiling of the 
 Sistine Chapel all the memorable events of the world's first thousand years. No pen 
 is more charming and educational than that which, like the Florentine's pencil, throws 
 all the greatness of a wonderful past into a series of glowing pictures. 
 This has been our author's endeavor. The result is a gallery of historical frescoes 
 in which may be seen all those splendid deeds and mighty men that have made up 
 our greatness. 
 
 Our national progress has been most exciting and dramatic. What struggles 
 and triumphs, what discoveries and inventions, what disasters and reforms, 
 what tragedies and comedies, have characterized the greatest century since 
 
- 
 
 8 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 the world began ! Be this our native or adopted land, while we glory in our 
 American citizenship we cannot become forgetful of those supreme characters and 
 superb achievements which "constitute our common patrimony the nation's in- 
 heritance." 
 
 The page which reflects the glory of our past must be bright and entertaining. 
 The author believes that the proper narration of events is not only more in- 
 structive but also more fascinating than romance. The work is not a mere 
 history. It contains no tedious details of commonplace occurrences, but graphic 
 descriptions of everything notable, the cream of history. The needs of all 
 classes of readers have been consulted. Our American youth, our intelligent farm- 
 ers and artisans, our business and professional men of the land, who need books 
 that are full of the most interesting and useful material for reference, illustra- 
 tion, entertainment, and instruction, will find the present volume adapted to 
 their wants. It is not dry, like an encyclopedia, but in the fullest sense stimu- 
 lating, romantic, true, to charm while it informs the mind. Dryness is not a 
 proof of accuracy. The clearer and more vivid a picture the more faithful it may 
 be to reality. An elevated and spirited style of composition is in harmony with 
 splendid truths and facts. 
 
 Eleven laborious years have been devoted to the preparation of the 
 volume, and the publisher makes no apology for saying that the author has 
 brought to his work experience, scholarship, and literary taste of the highest 
 order. He has obtained rare and valuable information hitherto inaccessible. 
 State and national archives, libraries and museums, private diaries and journals 
 of public men, have been laid under contribution. From eye witnesses and partici- 
 pants iu thrilling scenes have been secured interesting facts never before in print. 
 The book may be relied upon as authority on the subjects of which it treats. 
 
 Over twelve thousand dollars has been expended in illustrating the work. 
 
 Art is a charming instructor it teaches while it entertains. The philosophy of a 
 great life may be revealed in a portrait. A single engraving may convey a clearer 
 idea of a subject than a whole chapter of words. 
 
 The true value of a book is not commercial, but intellectual. Fenelon said, " If 
 the crowns of all the kingdoms of the earth were laid down at my feet in exchange 
 for my books and my love of reading, I would spurn them all." Our hands must 
 toll for our brains and hearts. Rich is the possessor of a good book. Our own 
 rare Emerson said, "In the highest civilization the book is still the highest 
 delight." That volume in which the great events of our own nation's existence are 
 mirrored with all the colors of reality must challenge the attention of thoughtful 
 men. 
 
 To our American citizens Liberty's nobility the publisher has the honor 
 to dedicate this work, believing, with Goldsmith, that "in proportion as society 
 refines, new books must ever become more necessary-" 
 
 THE PUBLISHER. 
 
i. 
 
 MOMENTOUS POLITICAL EVENTS OF ABSORBING INTEREST. 
 
 BIRTH OF THE NATION. The Grandest Modern Event. The Gauntlet of Defiance thrown 1TT6 
 at the Feet of the British Realm by Her Youngest Colonies. The whole World looks on Aston- 
 ished. Patrick Henry's Burning Eloquence. Excitement of the King and Court. Lord Chatham's 
 Scorching Speech. Struck Dead while Speaking. Seven Years' Struggle. England Gives Up the 
 Contest, and the World Welcomes the New Nation 25 
 
 APPOINTMENT OF OUR FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. John Adams, the Foremost 1785 
 Enemy of British Tyranny, Fills this High Office. What His Mission Involved. All Europe 
 Watches the Event. Interview between Him and King George, His Late Sovereign. Their Ad- 
 dresses, Temper, Personal Bearing, and Humorous Conversation. Results of this Embassy. . 70 
 
 FORMATION AND ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. Plan of Govern- nw 
 raent to be Framed. Statesmen and Sages in Council. Dignity, Learning, and Eloquence of the 
 Delegates. Various Schemes Discussed. Angry Debates, Sectional Threats. Franklin's Impress- 
 ive Appeal. Patriotism Rules all Hearts. Sublime Scene on Signing the Instrument. The United 
 States no Longer a People Without a Government 77 
 
 FIRST ELECTION AND INAUGURATION OF A PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED "89 
 
 STATES. Washington, the Nation's Spontaneous, Unanimous Choice. His Farewell Visit to His 
 Mother. His Triumphal Progress from Home, and Solemn Induction into Office. Order of Cere- 
 monies. Elegant Appearance and Dignity when Taking the Oath. Reverentially Kisses the Bible. 
 Distinguished Celebrities Present. Jubilee throughout the Republic, over the August Event 84 
 
 FOUNDING AND ESTABLISHMENT OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. Named in Honor 1799 
 of Washington. Bitter Sectional Contest in Deciding the Location. First "Compromise " in Con- 
 gress between the North and the South. Final Removal of the Government and its Archives to 
 Washington. Official Observance of the Event. Magnificent Site and Plan of the City. Splendor 
 of its Public Buildings 112 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 PASSAGE OF BENTON'S FAMOUS "EXPUNGING RESOLUTION," IN THE UNITED 37 
 
 STATES SENATE. Opposition to the United States Bank. Jackson's Message Against it. Con- 
 gress Grants a Charter, and Jackson Vetoes the Bill, Denounces the Bank, and Orders the United 
 States Funds Removed. Secretary Duane Declines to Act, but Taney Succeeds him and Obeys. 
 Fierce Conflict in Congress. Weeks of Strong Debate. Resolution to Censure Jackson Passed. 
 Benton's Motion to Expunge. He Follows it up Unceasingly, and Triumphs after Three Years' 
 Parliamentary Struggle 268 
 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, AS A WAR MEASURE, BY PRESIDENT 18 
 LINCOLN. More than Three Millions, in Bondage at the South, Declared Forever Free. Most 
 Important American State Paper Since July Fourth, 1776. Pronounced, by the President, " The 
 Great Event of the Nineteenth Century." The Whole System of Slavery Finally Swept from the 
 Republic, by Victories in the Field and by Constitutional Amendment. Public Reception of the 
 Proclamation.- Promulgation at the South. Scenes of Joy Among the Freedmen. Enfranchise- 
 ment Added to Freedom H4 
 
 II. 
 BATTLES, SIEGES, AND BRILLIANT NAVAL ENGAGEMENTS. 
 
 CORNWALLIS SURRENDERS HIS SPLENDID ARMY TO GENERAL WASHINGTON. H" 
 Final Catastrophe to British Arms in America. Consternation and Despair in the Cabinet of 
 King George. Eloquence of Burke, Fox, and Pitt. They Demand that the War Cease. The 
 Voice of Parliament. Last Act in the Military Drama. Washington's Countrymen Everywhere 
 Hail and Extol Him as Their Deliverer 65 
 
 ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. Record of His Generalship. Scheme to make 1783 
 Him King. Indignantly Rebukes the Proposal. Last Review of His Troops. Affecting Interview 
 and Parting Words between the Great Chieftain and His Comrades-in-Arms. Solemn Farewell 
 Audience with Congress. He Voluntarily Divests Himself of His Supreme Authority, Returns His 
 Victorious Sword, and Becomes a Private Citizen. Rare Event in Human History 64 
 
 DECISIVE BATTLES WITH THE INDIANS. Headlong Flight and Destruction of St. 1791 
 Clair's Army, in 1791, Before the Trained Warriors of "Little Turtle." This Mortifying Disaster 
 Retrieved by Wayne's Overwhelming Triumph, in 1794. Final and Crushing Blow Dealt by Jack- 
 son, in 1814. The Question of Power Between the Two Races Forever Settled in Favor of the 
 Whites 91 
 
 THE FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. Violent Resistance H?4 
 to the United States Excise Laws. Monster Meetings and Inflammatory Appeals. Officials and 
 Loyal Citizen* Whipped, Branded, Tarred, and Feathered. Intense Excitement in all the States. 
 Washington Declares that the Union is in Peril and Heads an Army to Meet the Crisis. Precipi- 
 tate Flight of the Armed Rebels 10 
 
 GENERAL JACKSON'S TERRIBLE ROUT AND SLAUGHTER OF THE BRITISH H5 
 ARMY, AT NEW ORLEANS. British Invasion of Louisiana. Jackson Hastens to New Orleans. 
 His Consummate Generalship in the Order and Conduct of this Campaign The War with England 
 Terminated by a Sudden and Splendid Victory to the American Arms Jackson is Hailed as One 
 of the Greatest of Modern Warriors, and as the Deliverer and Second Savior of His Country. 
 National Military Prestige Gained by this Decisive Battle 171 
 
 GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS, AS THE CONQUEROR nr 
 OF MEXICO Irritation between the United States and Mexico. Points of Boundary. Mexico 
 Refuses to Yield. Declaration of War by Congress Scott's Order, " On to Mexico ! " Doniphan's 
 March of Five Thousand Miles. General Taylor's Unbroken Series of Victorious Battles, from Palo 
 Alto to Buena Vista. Flight of Santa Anna in the Dead of Midnight The Stars and Stripes Float 
 Triumphantly from the Towers of the National Palace First Foreign Capital Ever Occupied by the 
 United States Army S 47 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOMBARDMENT AND REDUCTION OF FORT SUMTER. Inauguration of Civil War in 
 the United States. First Military Act in the Long and Bloody Struggle to Dismember the Union. 
 Organization of the Southern Confederacy. President Lincoln's Proclamation for 75,000 Volun- 
 teers. Spontaneous Uprising of the Loyal People. Calling the Battle-Roll of the Republic. Su- 
 preme Crisis in the Fate of the Nation. Northern and Southern Variances Slavery the Cause of 
 Contention. Culmination of the Antagonism. Disunion Banner of the South. Secession of Sev- 
 eral States War Wager Boldly Staked. Vaiu Efforts at Reconciliation. Federal Property Seized 
 at the South. Batteries Erected at Charleston. Fort Sumter Closely Besieged. Beauregard De- 
 mands its Surrender. Major Anderson's Flat Refusal Weakness of his Garrison. Attempts to 
 Re-enforce It. Prevented by Confederate Batteries. All Eyes Riveted on the Fort. Opening of 
 the Attack, April Fourteenth. Incessant and Tremendous Fire. Terms of Evacuation Accepted. 
 Southern Rejoicings. The Great Military Outlook Washington the National Key. . . . 502 
 
 BATTLE AT BULL RUN, VA., BETWEEN THE FEDERAL ARMY AND THAT OF IMl 
 THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY. Three Months Since Sumter Fell " On to Richmond!" 
 the Uuion War-Cry. Severe Fighting for Many Hours. March of McDowell's Army, and Plan of 
 the Movement Re-enforcements for the Confederates Davis's Arrival on the Ground. He Ex- 
 claims, " Onward, My Brave Comrades ! " Their Wild Enthusiasm Most Disastrous Defeat of the 
 Federal Troops. Their Uncontrollable Panic and Headlong Flight First Important Engagement 
 in the Great Civil War. Lessons Taught by this Battle 517 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MARYLAND. Bloodiest Day That America Ever Saw. Nearly IM* 
 One Hundred Thousand Men on Each Side. General McClellau Declares on the Field that it ii 
 " the Battle of the War." Four Miles and Fourteen Hours of Fighting and Slaughter. The Shock 
 and " Glory " of War on a Colossal Scale. Obstinate Bravery of the Contending Foes. Some of the 
 Regiments Almost Annihilated. The Union Troops Hold the Disputed Ground and Drive the En- 
 my en Masse The After-Scene of Horror 535 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG, " THE GIBRALTAR OF THE MISSISSIPPI," ?? 
 BY THE UNION FORCES. The Genius, Valor, and Resources of Both Armies Tasked to Their 
 Utmost Final Capitulation of the City by General Pemberton, After a Prolonged and Brilliant 
 Siege Heaviest Blow Yet Dealt the Secession Cause. General McPherson Receives the Formal 
 Surrender. 37,000 Prisoners, Fifteen Generals, Arms and Munitions for 60,000 Men, the Trophies. 
 Geographical Importance of Vicksburg. Its Commanding Fortifications. Farragut's Naval Siege 
 Powerless. Sherman's Attack Repulsed. Grant Assumes Active Command Vigorous Operations 
 Undertaken. His Series of Victorious Battles. Futile Attempt to Storm Vicksburg. Hours of 
 Terrific Cannonading. A Systematic Siege Begun. Thorough Investment at all Points. Federal 
 Sapping and Mining They Mine and Blow up Fort Hill. Awful Spectacle of Blood and Ruin. 
 Deadly Struggle for a Foothold. Success of the Forty-fifth Illinois. Their Colors Surmount the 
 Work. Pemberton Sends a Flag of Truce His Interview with Grant. Grant's Terms : " Uncon- 
 ditional Surrender." The. Victors Enter the City, July Fourth. Curious Reminiscences. . . 554 
 
 THREE DAYS' BATTLE BETWEEN THE CONCENTRATED ARMIES OF GENER- 1868 
 ALS MEADE AND LEE, AT GETTYSBURG, PA. Overwhelming Invasion of Pennsylvania 
 by th Confederate Forces. The Union Army Drives Them with Great Slaughter Across the Poto- 
 mac. Unsuccessful Attempt to Transfer the Seat of War from Virginia to Northern Soil One of 
 the Most Decisive and Important Federal Victories in the Great American Civil Conflict. Lee's 
 Army Impatient to go North. Order of March at Last. Consternation in the Border States. Call 
 for One Hundred Thousand More Men. Advance of Meade's Army. Face to Face with the Foe. 
 Engagement between the Vanguards. Terrific Artillery Contests Movements and Counter Move- 
 ments. Severe Reverses on Both Sides. Carnage at Cemetery Hill. Longstreet's Furious Onset. 
 Most Destructive Cannonade. Gettysburg a Vast Hospital. Crawford's Grand Charge. Stand- 
 ing by the Batteries ! Hand-to-Hand Conflict. Following the Battle-Flag. Deadly and Impetuous 
 Fighting. Forty-one Confederate Standards Taken. Unbounded Joy of the Victors. President 
 Lincoln's Announcement 563 
 
 GRAND MARCH OF THE UNION ARMY, UNDER GENERAL SHERMAN, THROUGH W 
 THE HEART OF THE SOUTH. Generals and Armies Baffled : States and Cities Conquered. 
 Display of Military Genius Unsurpassed in any Age or Country. Great Closing Act in the Cam- 
 paign. Sherman'? Qualities as a Commander. Hia Own Story of his Success. A Brilliant Cam- 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 paigu Planned. Atlanta, Ga., the First Great Prize. Destroys that City : Starts for the Coast. 
 Subsists His Men on the Enemy's Country. Savannah's Doom Sealed. Fall of Fort McAllister. 
 Christmas Gift to the President. Advance into South Carolina. The Stars and Stripes in Her Cap- 
 ital. Battles Fought : Onward to Raleigh. Johnson's Whole Army Bagged. Sherman Described 
 Personally 598 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND, VA., THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL. The Entrenched City was 
 Closely Encompassed for Mouths by General Grant's Brave Legions and Walls of Steel. Flight of 
 Jefferson Davis, and Surrender of General Lee's Army. Overthrow of the Four Years' Gigantic 
 Rebellion. The JEgis and Starry Ensigns of the Republic Everywhere Dominant. Transports of 
 Joy Fill the Laud. A Nation's Laurels Crown the Head of the Conqueror of Peace. Memorable 
 Day in Human Affairs. Momentous Issues Involved. Heavy Cost of this Triumph. Without It, a 
 Lost Republic. Uuequaled Valor Displayed. Sherman's Grand Conceptions. Sheridan's Splendid 
 Generalship. Onward March of Events Strategy, Battles, Victories. Lee's Lines Fatallv Broken. 
 Approach of the Final Crisis. Richmond Evacuated by Night. Retreat of Lee : Vigorous Pur- 
 luit. His Hopeless Resistance to Grant. Their Correspondence and Interview. The Two Great 
 Generals Face to Face. What was Said and Done. Announcing the Result. Parting of Lee with 
 His Soldiers. President Lincoln's Visit to Richmond. Raising the Uuited States Flag at Fort Sum- 
 ter. Davis a Prisoner in Fortress Monroe 607 
 
 OUR FIRST VICTORY ON THE SEA. John Paul Jones Fights and Captures the English mg 
 Ship-of War, Serapis, in British Waters. Crowds of Spectators Line the Coast. The Most Sangui- 
 nary Battle Ever Fought Between Single Ships. Britain's Flag Struck to America. Jones is Hailed 
 as " The Washington of the Sea." World-wide Interest of this Combat 32 
 
 AMERICA AND ENGLAND MATCHED AGAINST EACH OTHER FOR THE FIRST 
 TIME IN A SQUADRON FIGHT. Lake Erie the Scene of the Encounter. Sixteen Vessels En- 
 gaged The British, under Captain Barclay, one of Lord Nelson's Veteran Officers, and with a Su- 
 perior Force, are Thoroughly Beaten by the Americans, under Commodore Oliver H. Perry. Every 
 British Vessel Captured. General Harrison Completes the Victorious Work on Laud. American 
 Prowess Invincible 103 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY COMBAT BETWEEN THE IRON-CLADS MERRIMAC AND MON- 1562 
 ITOR, IN HAMPTON ROADS. Sudden Appearance of the Merrimac Among the Federal Frig- 
 ates. Their Swift and Terrible Destruction by Her Steel Prow. Unexpected Arrival of the "Lit 
 tie Monitor " at the Scene of Action She Engages and Disables the Monster Craft in a Four Hours' 
 Fight. Total Revolution in Naval Warfare the World Over by this Remarkable Contest. How the 
 Merrimac Changed Hands. Burned and Sunk at Norfolk, Va Her Hull Raised by the Confeder- 
 ates. She is Iron Roofed and Plated. Proof Against Shot and Shell. A Powerful Steel Beak in 
 Her Prow. Most Formidable Vessel Afloat In Command of Commodore Buchanan Departs 
 from Norfolk, March Eighth Pierces and Sinks the Cumberland. Next Attacks the Congress. 
 The Noble Frigate Destroyed Fight Begun with the Minnesota Suspended at Nightfall Trip 
 of the Monitor from New York. Her New and Singular Build Lieutenant Worden Hears of the 
 Battles Resolves to Grapple with the Monster The Two Together Next Day A Scene Never 
 to be Forgotten. Worden Turns the Tide of Fortune. Repulse and Retreat of the Merrimac. 52S 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA, CAPTAIN SEMMES, AND THE REAR- 1864 
 SARGE, CAPTAIN WINSLOW, OFF CHERBOURG. The Alabama is Sunk after an Hour's 
 Engagement, in Sight of the Two Great Maritime Powers of Europe. Semmes Throws His Sword 
 Away, Jumps Overboard, and Escapes. Relative Equality, in Size and Armament, of the Two Ves- 
 sels The Previous Destructive Career of .the Alabama Against Northern Commerce. Causeless 
 Raid on Marine Property Fault in the Law of Nations British Origin of the Alabama Her Un- 
 mistakable Character. Peculiar Model and Equipment. Adapted to Destroy, Fight, or Run 
 Adroit Shipment of Stores and Guns Ready for a Start All Hands Mustered Aft. Semmes 
 Reads Aloud His Commission Cheers for Davis, Semmes, Etc Salute Fired : Hoisting the Flag. 
 A Long Cruise : Terrible Ravages Puts in at Cherbourg, France The United States Ship 
 Kearsarge on His Track Semmes Boldly Offers to Fight Preliminary Maneuvers of the Ships 
 Seven Circles Round Each Other. Semmes's Rapid and Furious Fire. Superior Gunnery of the 
 Kearsarge. Its Fatal Effect on the Alabama. Incidents of this Renowned Fight. . . . 5il 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUTS ACHIEVEMENTS IN 1862 AND IN 1864; AND ADMIRAL ^* 
 PORTER'S IN 1865. Fierce and Sanguinary Contest between the Admiral's Flagship, nd 
 Admiral Buchanan's Monster Ram. The Latter 1'roves Herself, for a Time, a Match for the Whole 
 Union Fleet. Farragut's Overwhelming Victory. Farragnt Pressed to Join the South. His 
 Unswerving Fidelity to the Old Flag. High Trust Committed to Him. Sailing of His Fleet. 
 Bold and Successful Plan of Battle. Admiral Porter's Services. New Orleans Again Under the 
 United States Flag. Forts, Rams, Ironclads, etc., to Fight. Powerful Build of the Tennessee. 
 Makes for Her Antagonist at Full Speed. Farragut's Masterly Maneuvers. Unexpected Feature 
 in His Tactics. Deadly Contact of the Various Craft. The " Glory " and Horrors of War. 
 Stubborn Bravery of the Great Ram. Crippled at Last : The White Flag. The Stars and Stripes 
 on Her Staff. Buchanan Yields His Sword 590 
 
 III. 
 SUPERB ACHIEVEMENTS OF ORATORY. 
 
 THE " GREAT DEBATE " BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE IN CONGRESS. Vi-l?30 
 tal Constitutional Issues Discussed. Unsurpassed Power and Splendor of Senatorial Eloquence. 
 Webster's Speech Acknowledged to be the Grandest Forensic Achievement in the Whole Range of 
 Modern Parliamentary Efforts. His Magnificent Personal Appearance. Unprecedented Interest 
 and Excitement Produced in the Public Mind. No Debate Comparable with This. Known as the 
 " Battle of the GiaiiU." Rival Orators ; Pleasant Courtesies. Golden Age of American Oratory. 205 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS. John Quincy Adams, the 183S 
 " Old Man Eloquent," Carries on a Contest of Eleven Days, Single Handed, in its Defense in the 
 House of Representatives. Passage of the "Gag Rule." Expulsion and Assassination Threatened. 
 His Unquailing Courage. A Spectacle Unwitnessed before in the Halls of Legislation. Triumph 
 of his Master Mind 252 
 
 POLITICAL DEBATE BETWEEN ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND STEPHEN A. DOUG- W 
 LAS, IN ILLINOIS. Cause of this Remarkable Oratorical Contest. Intense Interest in All Parts 
 of the Land The Heart of Every American Citizen Enlisted in the Momentous Issue Involved. 
 Eminent Character of the Combatants. Their Extraordinary Ability and Eloquence Universally 
 Acknowledged. The Discussions Attended by Friends and Foes. Victory, Defeat, Life and 
 Death. Condition of the New Territories. Form of Constitution to be Decided. Domestic Institu- 
 tions : Slavery. Mr. Douglas Advocates " Popular Sovereignty." " Prohibition " Urged by Mr. 
 Lincoln. National Importance of the Question. The Public Mind Divided. Joint Debates Pro- 
 posed. Agreement between the two Leaders. Personal Appearance and Style. Plans, Places, 
 Scenes. Theories and Arguments Advanced. Skill and Adroitness of the Disputants. Immense 
 Concourses. Result Impartially Stated. Mr. Douglas Re-elected Senator. Mr. Lincoln Nominated 
 for President. His Election to that Office. Douglas's Magnanimity. The Olive Branch. Shoulder 
 to Shoulder as Unionists. Sudden Decease of the Great Senator 469 
 
 ORATORICAL CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND, BY REV. H. IMS 
 
 W. BEECHKR. His Olympian Speeches, in Defiance of British Sentiment, in the Great Cities of 
 the Kingdom. Superb Exhibition of Forensic Power in Liverpool. He Wrestles, Single-Handed 
 and Triumphantly, for Three Hours with a Vast Mob in that City. Reception at Exeter Hall, 
 London. Mr. Beecher's Tour Abroad for His Health. Civil Conflict Raging in America. Mr. 
 Beecher Urged to Speak on United States Affairs. Opening Speech in Manchester. Great 
 Audience. Attempts to Silence Him. Powerlessness of the Opposition. Discussions in Glasgow 
 and Edinburgh. Battle Waged by Mr. Beecher in Liverpool. Violent Efforts to Gag Him. 
 Taunts, Curses, Hisses, Fury Stampings, Hootings, Yellings. Beecher's Pluck, and Good 
 Humor. Grand Closing Scene in the Capital 573 
 
 IV. 
 WONDERFUL PHENOMENA OF THE EARTH, OCEAN, AND HEAVENS. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. One of Nature's Marvels. The Northern States Wrapt in H?? 
 a Dense Black Atmosphere for Fifteen Hours. The Herds Retire to their Stalls, the Fowls to their 
 Roosts, and the Birds Sing their Evening Songs at Noonday. Alarm of the Inhabitants. The Day 
 of Judgment Supposed to have Come. Science at a Loss to Account for the Mysterious Phenome- 
 non. Incidents and Anecdotes 40 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. The Darkness of Night Falls upon th; Ear;h at Mid-day. Stars 1>B 
 and 1'lauets iu Jb'ull Radiance. Magnificent Spectacle of the Glittering Corona around the Moon and 
 the Brilliant Rosy Protuberances Flaming from the Sun. Business Pursuits Abandoned. Millions 
 of Faces Turned Upward. The Phenomenon Vlewu with Curiosity, Wonder, and Absorbed De- 
 light. Triumphs of Astronomical Science. Reveianons of the Spectroscope. Spots on the Sun 
 Examined. Climax of the Impressive Scene 134 
 
 EXTENSIVE AND CALAMITOUS EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. Its Convulsive 1811 
 Force Felt all Over the Valley of the Mississippi and to the Atlantic Coast. The Earth Suddenly 
 Bursts Open and a Vast Region of Country is Sunk and Lost. Awful Chasms and Upheavels. 
 Ruin and Desolation Brought upon the Inhabitants. Account of the More Recent Earthquakes in 
 California, their Characteristics and Destructiveness. Humboldt's Interesting Opinion. . . . 156 
 
 THE EVER-MEMORABLE GALE OF SEPTEMBER. Bright Skies in the Midst of the IMS 
 Tempest. Suffocating Current of Hot Air. All New England Desolated 178 
 
 SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER ALL OVER THE UNITED STATES. The Most Grand & 
 and Brilliant Celestial Phenomenon Ever Beheld and Recorded by Man. The Whole Firmament of 
 the Universe in Fiery Commotion for Several Hours. Amazing Velocity, Size and Profusion of 
 the Falling Bodies. Their Intense Heat, Vivid Colors, and Strange, Glowing Beauty. The People 
 Wonder Struck. Admiration Among the Intelligent. Alarm Among the Ignorant. Conflagration 
 of the World Feared 228 
 
 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS OF 1837. A Vast Canopy of Gorgeous Crimson 18?! 
 Flames Encircles the Earth. Arches of Resplendent Auroral Glories Span the Hemisphere. Innu- 
 merable Scarlet Columns of Dazzling Beauty Rise from the Horizon to the Zenith. The Face of 
 Nature Everywhere Appears, to an Astonished World, as if Dyed in Blood. Uncommon Extent and 
 Sublimity. Millions of Wondering Observers 269 
 
 SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT AND FIERY COMET IN THE SKIES AT !? 
 NOONDAY. It Sweeps Through the Heavens, for Several Weeks, with a Luminous Train 
 103,000,000 Miles in Length. Almost Grazes the Sun, and, after Whirling Around that Orb with 
 Prodigious Velocity, Approaches the Earth with a Fearful Momentum. Its Mysterious disappear- 
 ance in the Unknown Realms and Depths of Space. Most Notable of all Comets 300 
 
 V. 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY DISCOVERIES AND INVENTIONS, SCIENTIFIC EXPEDITIONS, 
 AXD THE SPLENDID TRIUMPHS OF MECHANICAL GENIUS. 
 
 WHITNEY'S COTTON-GIN INVENTION. The Inventor's Obscure Circumstances. His HS 
 Early Mechanical Genius. Determined to get an Education. Goes to the South as a Teacher. 
 Befriended by a Widow. His Inventive Efforts Produce the Cotton-Giu. It Revolutionizes the In- 
 dustrial Prospects and Political Power of the South. How Cotton Became " King." Its Relation 
 to the Great Themes and Events in American History 98 
 
 FULTON'S TRIUMPHANT APPLICATION OF STEAM TO NAVIGATION. Fulton's ?* 
 Early Mechanisms. His Experiments and Trials. Discovery of Steam Propulsion at Last. Pub- 
 lic Ridicule of the Scheme. Construction of the First Steamboat. Incidents at the Launch. Sail- 
 ing of the " New-Fangled Craft." Complete Success of the Trip. Fulton's Checkered Fortunes. 
 First Steamboat at the West. The World Indebted to American Ingenuity and Enterprise for this 
 Mighty Agent in Humao Progress and Power. The Whole Scale of Civilization Enlarged. . 150 
 
 MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. Realization of the Highest ! 
 Ideal of a Mechanical Miracle. Principle, Structure and Operation of the Machine. Net-Work of 
 Lines Established Over the Four Continents. The Inventor's Experiments, Labors, Discourage- 
 ments, and Triumphs. " Orders of Glory," Gifts, and Other Honors, Bestowed upon Him by- 
 Crowned Heads 244 
 
 FREMONT'S HEROIC EXPEDITION OF DISCOVERY TO THE TJNTRACKED RE- 
 GIONOF THE NORTH- WEST, OREGON, CALIFORNIA, ETC. Fremont a Pioneer of Em- 
 pire. National Objects of this Tear. Enchanting Record of Adventures. Surveys and Researches. 
 -Hi* Exploration of the Sierra Nevada, and of that Wonderful Gateway in the Rocky Mountain*, 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 the South Pass. Plants the American Flag on the Highest Peak of that Lofty Range. He Enriches 
 Every Branch of Natural Science, and Illustrates a Remote and Boundless Country before Entirely 
 Unknown 285 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER AS A PREVENTIVE OF PAIN. 1S 
 
 Instinctive Dread of Pain. Persistent Search for a Preventive. Discovery of the Long-Sought Se- 
 cret. Honor Due to the Medical Science of America. Curious Religious Objections. Account of 
 the First Capital Demonstration before a Crowded and Breathless Assembly. Its Signal Success. 
 Most Beneficent Boon Ever Conferred by Science upon th Human Race 324 
 
 INVENTION OF THAT WONDROUS PIECE OF MECHANISM, THE SEWING- 1846 
 MACHINE. The Woman's Friend. Romantic Genius and Perseverance Displayed in its Produc- 
 tion. Toils of the Inventor in His Garret. His Ingenuity, Struggles and Triumphs. A Machine 
 
 at Last. World-Wide Introduction of the Device. The Industrial Interests of the Country Affected 
 
 to the Amount of 8500,000,000 Annually. The Humble Inventor Becomes a Millionaire. . . 332 
 
 EXPEDITION TO THE RIVER JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA, BY LIEUT. W. F. l| 
 LYNCH, UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT. Inter- 
 est in the Holy Land. Equipment of the United States Expedition. On Its Way to the Orient. 
 Anchoring Under Mount Carmel. Passage Down the Jordan. The Sacred River Successfully Cir- 
 cumnavigated, Sun-eyed, and Traced to Its Source. Wild and Impressive Scenery. Twenty Days 
 and Nights upon the " Sea of Death." It is Explored, and Sounded, and its Mysteries Solved. 
 Important Results to Science 354 
 
 DISCOVERY OF GOLD AT SUTTER'S MILL, CALIFORNIA. First Practical Discovery I* 4 * 
 of the Precious Metal. Simple Accident that Led to It. The Discovery Kept Secret. How it was 
 Disclosed. The News Spreads Like Wild-Fire to the Four Quarters of the Globe. Overwhelming 
 Tide of Emigrants from all Countries. Their Trials. Life Among the Diggers. Nucleus of a 
 Great Empire on the Pacific. California Becomes the El Dorado of the World and the Golden 
 Commonwealth of the American Union 360 
 
 DISCOVERY OF PETROLEUM IN PENNSYLVANIA. Discovery of Prodigious Quanti- 1889 
 ties of Illuminating Oil in the Depths of the Earth. Boring of Innumerable Wells. Fabulous Prices 
 Paid for Lands. Poor Farmers Become Millionaires. The Supply of Oil Exceeds the Wants of the 
 Whole Country. Immense Exportations of the Article. Vast Source of National Wealth and In- 
 dustry. Revolution in Artificial Light. Ancient Knowledge of this Oil. Floating on Ponds and 
 Creeks. Its Collection and Use. Native Sources : Origin 47 
 
 THIRTY THOUSAND MILES OF RAILWAY IN THIRTY YEARS, AND EIGHTY 1^8 
 THOUSAND IN HALF A CENTURY. Curious Chronicles Relating to the Introduction of Im- 
 proved Means of Transit. The Old and the New. Development and Progress. Numerous and 
 Important Advantages. Great Saving of Time and Expense. Initiatory Undertakings in the 
 United States. First American Railway with Steam as the Locomotive Power. Small Beginnings : 
 Great Results. Amazing Growth and Expansion in all Directions. Social and Business Changes. 
 Infancy of Mechanism in this Line. Pioneer Coach and Locomotive. Successive Steps of Advance- 
 ment. Usual Channels of Trade Abandoned. Power of Capital Demonstrated. Distan; Sections 
 and Interests Equalized. Stimulus to Industry. Vast Constructive Works Involved. U. S. Enter- 
 prise not Behindhand. " Breaking the Ground." Less than 20 Miles in 1829. Some 30,000 Miles 
 in 1859. Constant and Rapid Increase. Inventive Genius Displayed. "Improvements" by the 
 Thousands. Steel Rails Substituted for Iron. Luxury on Wheels. Palace and Sleeping Cars. 
 Tremendous Speed Attained. American and Foreign Lines. Railways 16,000 Feet Above the 
 Sea 645 
 
 SUCCESSFUL LAYING OF THE TELEGRAPH CABLE ACROSS THE ATLANTIC * 
 OCEAN. The Old World and the New United by Instantaneous Communication. Pronounced the 
 Grandest of Human Enterprises. Ten Years of Difficulty and Failure in the Mighty Task. The 
 Name of Its Indomitable Projector Crowned with Immortal Honor. Illustrations of the Power and 
 Wonders of this New-Born Agent of CivUization. Moral Uses of the Cable 629 
 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. Spikes of the Richest Gold and a Hammer 1869 
 of Pure Silver Used in Layiug the Last Rail. The Blows of the Sledge Telegraphed to All the 
 
16 CONTENTS. 
 
 Great Cities. The Wide Continent Spanned with Iron from the Farthest East to the Golden Gata. 
 Junction of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Seven Days from New York to San Francisco. 
 Greatest Railroad Route on the Face of the Earth. " Manifest Destiny " of the United States. 637 
 
 " MIRACLES OF SCIENCE," OR FOUR NEW WONDERS OF THE WORLD. The 18? e 
 Electric Light, or Brilliant and Abundant Illumination by Means of Electricity. The Telephone, or 
 Instantaneous Articulate Communication between Distant Points. The Phonograph, or Talking 
 Machine, Reproducing and Preserving Human Utterances, whether of Speech or Song, in all their 
 Characteristics. The Microphone, or Prodigious Magnifier of Sound, however Slight or Remote. 
 Splendor of the Electric Rays. Former Inventions in this Line. Prof. Farmer's Early Success. Ed. 
 ison's Improved Device. Its Special Characteristics. Sanguine Expectations Entertained. Interest 
 Excited by the Telephone. Encomiums from English Sources. Principles of Construction and Use. 
 Simplicity and Serviceableness. Tens of Thousands in Operation. How the Phonograph was 
 Developed. Other Inventions Fairly Eclipsed. Its Appearance, Form, Outcome. Words and 
 Tones Recorded. Astonishment and Delight. Its Five Chief Features. Marvels of the Micro- 
 phone. A Touch or Tick Audible for Miles. Arrangement of the Apparatus. Curious Feats 
 Accomplished. Explanation of this Property 681 
 
 VI. 
 APPALLING PUBLIC CALAMITIES, DISASTERS, PANICS, ETC. 
 
 DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. His Sudden and Brief Illness, Last Hours and Dying 
 Words. Fortitude and Serenity Through all His Sufferings. He Calmly Announces His Approach- 
 ing Dissolution Without a Murmur. The Whole World does Honor, by Eulogy and Lamentations, 
 to His Exalted Worth and Immortal Fame. He Anticipated an Early Death. His Invariably Good 
 Health. Exposure in a Snow-storm. Takes a Fatal Cold. Last Letter Written by His Hand. 
 Reads the Papers in the Evening. Characteristic Reply to His Wife. Passes a Restless Night. 
 Alarming Condition the Next Day. Medical Treatment of no Avail. Calls for His Two Wills, 
 Burns One. Affecting Scene at His Bedside. Last Words, " 'Tis Well ! "Only One Day's Sick- 
 ness. Acute Laryngitis His Disease. Burial in the Old Family Vault. Tidings of His Death. 
 Tributes from Peoples and Kings. A Man Without a Parallel. Last Page In His Journal. Re- 
 entombment in 1837. Appearance of His Remains 119 
 
 AWFUL EXPLOSION OF COMMODORE STOCKTON'S GREAT GUN, THE "PEACE- W 
 MAKER." Stockton's High Enthusiasm. His Vast and Beautiful Ship. Styled the Pride of the 
 Navy. Invitations for a Grand Gala Day. President Tyler Attends. Array of Female Beauty. 
 Music, Toasts, Wit and Wine. Firing of the Monster Gun. " One More Shot ! " and it Bursts. 
 The Secretaries of State and of the Navy, and Other Eminent Persons, Instantly Killed. Miracu- 
 lous Escape of the President. Sudden Transition from the Height of Human Enjoyment to the 
 Fxtreme of Woe 315. 
 
 AWFUL VISITATIONS OF THE " ANGEL OF DEATH." Yellow Fever and Cholera Epi- 1^9 
 demies at Differeat Periods. Frightful Mortality and Panic. Business Abandoned, Churches Closed, 
 Streets Barricaded, Cities Deserted. Proclamation by the President of the United States. The 
 Virtues, Passions, and Vices of Human Nature Strikingly Illustrated. Tens of Thousands Swept at 
 Once from the Face of the Earth. Eras of American Epidemics. Wide and Ghastly Ravages. 
 Self-Preservation the First Law. Social Intercourse Suspended. Ties of Affection Sundered. 
 Parents Forsake Children. Husbands Flee from Wives. Rich Men Buried Like Paupers. Money 
 and Rank Unavailing. Rumble of the Dead Carts. Activity in the Graveyards. They Look as if 
 Plowed Up. Women in Childbirth Helpless Their Screams for Succor. Care of a Lunatic Pa- 
 tient. The Tender Passion Still Alive. Courageous Marriages. Death in the Bridal Chamber. 
 Anecdotes of the Clergy. Crime, Filth, and Disease. Quacks and Nostrums Rife. The Celebrated 
 "Thieves' Vinegar." 368 
 
 LOSS OF THE SPLENDID COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC OF NEW YORK, BY IM* 
 COLLISION WITH THE IRON STEAMER VESTA. Occurrence of the Disaster in Mid- 
 Ocean, at Noonday, in a Dense Fog. Sinking of the Noble Ship Stern Foremost. Hundreds of 
 Souls Engulfed in a Watery Grave. Experiences Crowded Into that Awful Hour. The Wail of 
 Agony and Despair from the Fated Throng. Her Non- Arrival, Painful Suspense. The Dreadful 
 News at Last. Shock to the Public Mind. Strong Build of the Arctic. Prestige of the ("oiling 
 Line. A Casualty Undreamed of. Surging Crowd in Wall Street. Names of Lost and Saved Read. 
 Hope, Joy, Grief, Anguish. The Sad Tale on all Lips. Captain Luce in the Hour of Woe. 
 Manliness of His First Order. Ship Deserted by the Crew. " Every Man for Himself " 429 
 
CONTENTS. 17 
 
 TERRIBLE CRISIS IN THE BUSINESS AND FINANCIAL WORLD. Known as " The 1WT 
 Great Panic." A Suddeu Universal Crasli in the Height of Prosperity. Caused by Wild Speculations 
 and Enormous Debt. Suspension of Banks all over the Country. Failure of the Oldest and Wealth- 
 iest Houses. Fortunes Swept Away in a Day. Prostration of Every Branch of Industry. Pro- 
 longed Embarrassment, Distrust, and Suffering. The Panic of 1837 : A Comparison. . . . 447 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, AT FORD'S THEATER, WASHING- 1MB 
 TON, BY J. WILKES BOOTH. Conspiracy to Murder, Simultaneously, All the Chief Officers of 
 the Government. The Most Exalted aud Beloved of Mortal Rulers Falls a Victim. A Universal 
 Wail of Anguish Poured Forth from the National Heart. Darkest Page in the History of the 
 Country. Fuuer.il Cortege Through Fifteen States. Tragical Fate of the Conspirators. Object of 
 this Most Infamous of Crimes. Singular Time of Its Perpetration. Virtual End of the War. 
 Dawn of Peace : Universal Joy. President Lincoln's Happy Frame of Mind. How He Passed Hi 
 Last Day. Booth's Swift aud Bloody End. Trial of His Accomplices. . . . .617 
 
 BURNING OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, ILL., THE COMMERCIAL METROPOLIS OF iwi 
 THE NORTH-WEST. Most Destructive Conflagration in the History of Civilized Nations. A 
 Thirty Hours' Tornado of Fire in all Directions. Vast Billows of Inextinguishable Flame. Up- 
 Wards of Two Thousand Acres, or Seventy-Three Miles of btreets, with 17,450 Buildings, Destroyed: 
 Loss, $200,000,000 . , . ,653 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD, AT THE BALTIMORE AND POTO- i? 
 MAC RAILWAY STATION, IN WASHINGTON, JULY 2. His Departure from the White 
 House with Secretary Elaine on a Brief Tour of Recreation. Excellent Health and Spirits. Arrival 
 at the Depot. A Lurking Assassin, C. J. Guiteau, Approaches in the Rear. A Startling but Harm- 
 less Shot, followed by Another which Enters the Body. The President Sinks to the floor. A Hideous 
 
 Tragedy. Capture of the Murderer. The Wounded Victim Conveyed to the Executive Mansion. 
 
 The Nation Horrified, and the Whole Civilized World Shocked. Condolences from the Remotest 
 Courts and Governments. Unaffected Sympathy from all Political Parties. Past Differences Hushed 
 and Forgotten. Eleven Weeks of Suffering. Heroism and Resignation of the Patient. Devotion 
 aud Fortitude of the President's Wife. Removal to Long Branch, N. J. Temporary Relief. Hover- 
 ing between Life and Death. Solemn Prayers for his Recovery. Sudden and Fatal End of the 
 Struggle. A Pall over Four Continents. Tributes from Sovereigns and Peoples the World Over. 
 The Wail and Lamentation of Mankind. Funeral Procession and Ceremonies. Queen Victoria's 
 Floral Offering on the Bier. At Rest, in Lake v iew Cemetery, Cleveland, Ohio 705 
 
 VII. 
 CELEBRATED CRIMINAL CASES, TRAGEDIES AND CONSPIRACIES, ETC. 
 
 TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. Darkest Page in American Rev- "80 
 olutionary History Plot to Deliver West Point, the Gibraltar of America, Over to the British. 
 Movements of the Guilty Parties. Discovery and Frustration of the Crime. Major Andre, the Brit- 
 ish Spy, is Captured, and Swings from a Gibbet. Escape of Arnold to the Enemy. Is Spurued and 
 Isolated in England. Arnold's Unquestioned Bravery. Commended by General Washington In- 
 famous Personal Transactions Reprimanded by His Chief. Determines on Revenge Correspond- 
 ence with the Foe. Ingratiates Washington's Favor Again. Obtains Command of West Point. 
 Midnight Conference with Andre. Andre Seized while Returning. Astounding Evidence Against 
 Him Attempts to Bribe His Captors Carried to American Head-Quarters. Arnold Apprised of 
 the Event. A Hurried Farewell to His Wife. Quick Pursuit of the Traitor. He Reaches a British 
 Man-of- War. Washington's Exclamation at the News. His Call on Mrs Arnold. Andre's Trial 
 an'' Conviction Arnold's Reward for His Crime. His Unlamented Death 48 
 
 FATAL DUEL BETWEEN MR. BURR AND GENERAL ALEXANDER HAMILTON. !*>4 
 Fall of Hamilton at First Fire. His Death in Thirty Hours. Profound Sensation and Solemn 
 Obsequies in all Parts of the Land. Mourned as One of the Founders of the Republic. Indictment 
 of the Assassin for the Crime of Murder. Hamilton's Brilliant Public Life. Washington's Right- 
 hand Man Champion of the Federalists. Burr's Career in the Revolution His Notorious De- 
 bauchery. Finally Dismissed by Washington Becomes Vice-President in 1800 Deadly Personal 
 Hatreds. Criticisms on Burr by His Opponents. Challenge Sent to Hamilton. Pacific Explana- 
 tions Spurned Forced to Meet Burr. Makes His Will in Anticipation. Sings at a Banquet the 
 Day Before. Arrival of the Fatal Hour. Hamilton's Mortal Wound. What He Said of the Event. 
 Conversation before Dying. Partake* of the Communion. His Testimony against Dueling. 
 Heartless Conduct of Burr. A Fugitive and an Outlaw 127 
 
18 CONTEXTS. 
 
 CONSPIRACY ANT) TRIAL OF AARON BURR. Lawless Scheme of Conquest and Domin- I?* 
 ion at the South-west. A New Empire Contemplated, with Burr as Sovereign Seizure of His Flo- 
 tilla and Dispersion of His Men when Ready to Embark, by the Federal Forces. Capture and Ar- 
 raignment of Burr for High Treason. Melancholy End of the Conspirator. " Theodosia, the 
 Beloved." Reckless Character of Burr. His Unscrupulous Ambitions. Enlists Blennerhassett in 
 His Plans Their Expedition Arranged. Mexico the Ultimate Point. Discovery of the Whole 
 Plot. Its Complete Frustration. Burr Flees in Disguise. Scene at His Arrest. Attempt to Es- 
 cape. The Iron-Hearted Man ia Tears His Social Fascination. Preparations for the Trial Its 
 Legal and Forensic Interest. Acquittal on Technical Grounds. Shunned as Man of Infamy. De- 
 votion of His Daughter Theodosia Lifelong and Unalterable Love. Her Mysterious Fate. Burr's 
 Anguish and Agony. A Moral Wreck and Warning 142 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN HENRY CLAY, SECRETARY OF STATE, AND JOHN RANDOLPH, ' 
 UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM VIRGINIA. Randolph's Bitter Insult to Clay on the 
 Floor of the Senate Accuses Him of Falsifying an Official Document The Puritan and "Black- 
 leg" Taunt. Clay Challenges the Senator to Mortal Combat. Words and Acts of these Two Fore- 
 most Men of their Times, on the " Field of Honor." Result of the Hostile Meeting. Fame of these 
 Party Leaders. Ancient Political Antagonists. Origin of the Present Dispute. Randolph's Gift of 
 Sarcasm. Applies it Severely to Clay. Clay Demands Satisfaction Reconciliation Refused 
 Bladensburg the Dueling Ground. Pistols the Weapons Chosen. Colonel Benton a Mutual Friend. 
 Incidents the Night Before. Randolph's Secret Resolve. Going to the Field of Blood. View of 
 this Shrine of " Chivalry." Salutations of the Combatants. Solemn Interest of the Scene. Dis- 
 tance Ten Paces. A Harmless Exchange of Shots. Clay Calls it " Child's Play ! " Another Fire. 
 No Injury. " Honor " Satisfied Pleasant Talk with Each Other 196 
 
 CAREER, CAPTURE, AND EXECUTION OF GIBBS, THE MOST NOTED PIRATE '831 
 OF THE CENTURY. His Bold, Enterprising, Desperate, and Successful War, for Many Years, 
 Against the Commerce of all Nations. Terror Inspired by His Name as the Scourge of the Ocean 
 and the Enemy of Mankind. Scores of Vessels Taken, Plundered and Destroyed. Their Crews and 
 Passengers, Male and Female, Instantly Murdered. His Capture and Execution 222 
 
 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON AT THE UNITED 183B 
 STATES CAPITOL IN WASHINGTON, BY RICHARD LAWRENCE. Failure of the Pis- 
 tols to Discharge. The President Rushes Furiously upon His Assailant, and is Restrained from 
 Executing Summary Vengeance only by His Friends. Political Hostility Supposed to have Insti- 
 gated the Act. Lawrence Proves to be a Lunatic without Accomplices. His History and 
 Trial 288 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES BRIG-OF-WAR SOMERS, CAPTAIN A. 18a 
 S. MACKENZIE Deep Laid Plot to Seize the Vessel, Commit Wholesale Murder of Her Men, 
 Raise the Black Flag, and Convert Her into a Pirate. All Prizes to be Plundered, Burnt, Their 
 Drews Butchered, and Women and Girls Ravished. Midshipman Spencer, Son of a United States 
 Cabinet Officer, the Ringleader The Chief Conspirators Hung at the Yard-Arm First Mutiny in 
 the United States Navy. Spencer's Hold upon His Comrades. Death the Penalty of Disclosure. 
 Confidence Fortunately Misplaced. A Man of Houor Tampered With. Captain Mackenzie In- 
 formed of the Plot. Treats it as Wild and Improbable Confronts and Questions Spencer. Orders 
 Him to be Ironed. Plan Found in His Razor Case. Alarming Disaffection of the Crew. None of 
 the Officers Implicated. Close Investigation of the Case. Spencer, Cromwell, and Small, to Die 
 Their Fate Announced to Them. Spencer's Account of His Life. They Meet on their Way to be 
 Hung. Treatment of Each Other. Spencer Begs to Give the Last Signal. Closing Scene of the 
 Tragedy -All Hands Cheer the Ship Raising the Banner of the Cross 291 
 
 MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN, A NOTED MILLIONAIRE OF BOSTON, BY !? 
 PROF. JOHN W. WEBSTER, OF HARVARD COLLEGE. High Social Position of the Par- 
 ties. Instantaneous Outburst of Surprise, Alarm, and Terror, in the Community, on the Discovery 
 of the Deed. Remarkable Chain of Circumstances Leading to the Murderer's Detection. Solemn 
 and Exciting Trial. Account of the Mortal Blow and Disposal of the Remains. Similar Crse of 
 Colt and Adams. Parkman's Wealth and Fame. His Mysterious Disappearance. Arrest of Web- 
 ster at Night Behavior in Court He Boldly Addresses the Jury. Hung Near the Spot of Hia 
 Birth. ' 76 
 
CONTENTS. 19 
 
 REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN CALIFORNIA. Revolution in the Admin- 1851 
 istration of Justice Powerlessness aud Indifference of the Regular Authorities. Robbery, Arson, 
 and Murder, Alarmingly Prevalent The Committee's Secret Chamber of Judgment. Sudden Seiz 
 ure and Trial of Noted Criminals Solemn Tolling of the Signal Bell. Swift and Terrible Execu- 
 tions. Renovation of Society, 395 
 
 ASSAULT ON THE HON. CHARLES SUMNER, BY HON. PRESTON S. BROOKS. 1886 
 Brought about by Sumner's Great Kansas Speech for Free Soil and Free Labor. Twenty Sndden 
 and Terrible Blows, with a Solid Gutta Percha Cane, Dealt upon Mr. Snmner's Bare Head. He 
 Staggers and Falls, Senseless, Gashed, and Bleeding. His Three Years' Illness. Recovery. Illus- 
 trious Career, 437 
 
 ANARCHY IN THE UNITED STATES. Anarchy. Its Avowed Principles and Aims It 1886 
 struggles Against Law and Order in Chicago, III., and Milwaukee, Wis., and, for the First Time in 
 die Western World, Tests the Strength of Republican Institutions. Transplanting the Social Dis- 
 ease from Europe to America. Foreign Agitators Seek a Congenial Field in " Freedom's Land." 
 Their Theories, Aims, aud Methods. Anti-Government Principles Loudly Proclaimed. Destruc- 
 tion of the State, Church, and Society Defiance of all Legal Restraint. Red-Handed Schemes 
 and Plottings. Dynamite aud Violence to be Employed. How and Where the Bombs were Made. 
 Murderous Appeals to Workingmen. Fatal Scene of Conflict Precipitated. Dynamite Bombs 
 Thrown Into the Police Ranks. Their Heroic Fidelity to Duty. Day and Night of Blood 
 and Terror. Horror and Indignation Throughout the Country. Harvest of Death and Mu- 
 tilation. Arrest of Some of the Most Noted Leaders. Their Conviction After a Two Months' 
 Trial. Incidents Stated by Mr. Reid, a Deputy Sheriff. Vindication of Law and Justice. Justice 
 of the Sentence Questioned by Some. Life Imprisonment Urged. Executions Amidst a Tumultu- 
 ous Throng, 727 
 
 VIII. 
 
 REMARKABLE REFORMS, DELUSIONS, AND EXCITEMENTS IN THE MORAL, 
 EDUCATIONAL, AND RELIGIOUS WORLD, ETC. 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS, or "LATTER DAY SAINTS," UNDER 1830 
 JOSEPH SMITH, THE " PROPHET OF THE LORD." Smith the " Mohammed of the West." 
 His Assumed Discovery of the Golden Plates of a New Bible. Secret History of this Transac- 
 tion. Organization of the First Church. Apostles Sent Forth and Couverts Obtained in all Parts 
 of the World. Founding and Destruction of Nauvoo, the "City of Zion." Smith's Character and 
 Bloody Death. Brigham Young His Successor. Removal to Utah, the "Promised Land," . 214 
 
 BREAKING OUT OF THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. First Temperance Society 1840 
 in the United States. Origin, Rapid Spread, Influence, and Wonderful History of the Movement. 
 Enthusiasm Attending the " Washingtoniau " Era. Its Pioneers Rise from the Gutter to the Ros- 
 trum and Sway Multitudes by their Eloquence Father Mathew's Visit His 600,000 Converts. 
 Career of Hawkins, Mitchell, Gongh, Dow, and Others. Anecdotes of Washington. General Tay- 
 lor's Whiskey-Jug. Farragut's Substitute for Grog, 276 
 
 EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. Miller as a Man and Preacher. His Ex- 1843 
 citing Prediction of the Second Advent of Christ. The Speedy Fulfillment of the Latter-Day Bible 
 Prophecies Boldly Declared. Zealous Promulgation of ;lis Views. Scores of Thousands of Con- 
 verts. Public Feeling Intensely Wrought Upon. Preparations by Many for the Coming Event. 
 The Passing of the Time. Miller's Apology and Defense. His Calm and Happy Death, . 307 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF FREE POPULAR EDUCATION. An Experiment in Behalf 1844 
 of the Highest Civilization. Condition of the Country Previous to such Efforts. Early Scenes and 
 Customs. Public Law Invoked and Applied. Impulse Given to the Work Progress and Results. 
 America in the Van. Most Enlightened and Successful System in the World. Female Educa- 
 tion. Colleges, Universities, etc. A Very Modern Idea. No National System of Education. Un- 
 dertaken by the Individual States Effect of Wise Legislation. State Vieing with State. 
 School-houses in "ye olden time." The East and the West. Wonderful Changes in Public 
 Opinion, 667 
 
 SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. Familiar Intercourse Claimed to be 1847 
 Opened Between Human and Disembodied Beings. Alleged Revelations from the Unseen World. 
 Singular and Humble Origin, in a Secluded New York Village, of this Great Modern Wonder. 
 Its Development Among all Nations in all Lands. Astonishing and Inexplicable Character of the 
 Manifestations. Theories of Explanation Investigations and Reports. Views of Agassiz, Her- 
 Bchel, and Other Scientists. Press and Pulpit Discussions. Tendency of the Phenomena. Thirty 
 Years' History, 340 
 
20 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE "GREAT AWAKENING" IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. like a Mighty Rushing 1S 
 Wind, it Sweeps from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Crowded Prayer Meetings Held Daily in Every 
 City and Town, from the Granite Hills of the North to the Rolling Prairies of the West and the 
 Golden Slopes of California. Large Accessions, from all Classes, to the Churches of Every Name 
 and Denomination. The "American Pentecost." Early American Revivals. Moody and Sankey 
 in Great Britain, in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, etc. Dr. Franklin and Mr. White- 
 field. The Revival of 1857 Spontaneous. No Leaders or Organizers. Its Immediate Cause. Uni- 
 versal Ruin of Commerce. Anxiety for Higher Interests. All Days of the Week Alike. Business 
 Men in the Work. Telegraphing Religious Tidings; New York a Centsr of Influence. Fulton 
 Street Prayer Meeting. Scenes in Burton's Theater. New Themes and Actors. Countless Re- 
 quests for Prayers. A Wonderful Book. Striking Moral Results. Men of Violence Reformed. 
 Crime and Suicide Prevented. Infidels, Gamblers, Pugilists. Jessie Fremont's Gold Ring. "Aw- 
 ful " Gardner's Case 456 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL IN THE UNITED STATES. The Venera- >? 
 ble Archbishop McCloskey, of New York, Selected by the Roman Pontiff, for this Great Office. He 
 becomes a Prince in the Church. The Highest Ecclesiastical Appointment in the Catholic Hierarchy. 
 Reasons given for this Step. Solemn Investiture, in the Cathedral, by Clerical Dignitaries from 
 All Parts of the Country. An Unparalleled Scene. Illustrious Nature of this Office. Special En- 
 voy sent from Rome. Announcing the Event to the Archbishop. Time of Public Recognition 
 Assigned. A Mighty Stream of Humanity. Decorations of the Church. Procession of Priests. 
 Incensing the Altars. Sacred Vessels and Vestments. Insignia Peculiar to this Rank. The Scar- 
 let Cap. Profoundly Impressive Service. Unprecedented on this Continent. Imposing the Ber- 
 retta. Intoning and Chanting. Official Letter from the Pope. Use of the Latin Language. In- 
 spiring Strains of Music. Incidents Attending the Ceremonial. Pontifical Benediction by the 
 Cardinal. Retirement of th" <~!el u "nts. Dispersion of the Vast Throng fi"5 
 
 IX. 
 POPULAR OVATIONS, NATIONAL JUBILEES, PAGEANTS, FfiATS, ETC. 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA, AS THE GUEST OF THE REPUBLIC, AT W24 
 THE INVITATION OF THE UNITED STATES CONGRESS AND OF PRESIDENT 
 MONROE. His Tour of Five Thousand Miles through the Twenty-four States. A National Ova- 
 tion on the Grandest Scale. Cities, States, Legislatures and Governors, Vie in their Demonstrations 
 of Respect. The Venerable Patriot Enters the Tomb and Stands beside the Remains of His Great 
 Departed Friend, Washington. Washington and Lafayette. Noble Qualities of the Marquis. 186 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND, THE QUEEN OF SONG. Twenty 18?? 
 Thousand Persons Welcome Her Arrival. Transcendent Beauty and Power of Her Voice. A 
 Whole Continent Enraptured with Her Enchanting Melodies. Pleasant Exhilaration of Feeling 
 Throughout the Land by the Presence of the Fair Nightingale. Honors from Webster, Clay and 
 Other Dignitaries. Her Praises Fill the Wide World. The Vocal Prodigy of the Age. . . 386 
 
 THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL REGATTA AT COWES, ENGLAND. The Yacht 1851 
 " America " Distances, by Nearly Eight Miles, the Whole Fleet of Swift and Splendid Competitors, 
 and Wins "the Cup of all Nations." Grandest and Most Exciting Spectacle of the Kind Ever 
 Known. Queen Victoria Witnesses the Match. Universal Astonishment at the Result. Admira- 
 tion Elicited by the " America's " Beautiful Model and Ingenious Rig 403 
 
 RECEPTION OF GOVERNOR KOSSUTH, THE GREAT HUNGARIAN EXILE, AS ig" 
 THE INVITED GUEST OF THE NATION. Splendid Military Pageant in New York, on His 
 Arrival. Welcomed and Banqueted by President Fillmore. Received with Distinguished Official 
 Honors on the Floor of Congress. He Eloquently Pleads His Country's Cause in All Parts of the 
 Land. Processions, Congratulatory Addresses, Acclamations, etc. A True-Hearted Patriot, and 
 Greatest Orator of the Day 412 
 
 EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRY OF ALL NATIONS, IN NEW YORK. Construction 1M 
 of the Crystal Palace, a Colossal Building of Glass and Iron. Four Acres of Surface Covered with 
 the Treasures of Art, Science and Mechanism, from Every Land. Inanguration of the Enterprise 
 by President Pierce. Five Thousand Contributors. Splendor of the Palace of Industry by Day ; 
 Its Gorgeous Illumination at Night. Beauty, Utility, Amusement. The Grand Industries of Civil- 
 ization. Lesson Taught by Such a Display. Luster Reflected on America 421 
 
CONTENTS. 21 
 
 GRAND EMBASSY FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN, WITH A TREATY OF PEACE |60 
 AND COMMERCE, TO THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT. First Ambassadors Ever 
 Sent from that Ancient Country to a Foreign Land. Their Official Reception by President Bu- 
 chanan, and Tour of Observation to the Chief Cities. Public Interest Excited by this Extraordi- 
 nary Mission. Their Oriental Costume, Manners, Ceremonies, Etc. Distinction Shown to Ameri- 
 cans. Character of the Embassy. Headed by Eminent Princes. Numerous and Brilliant Suite 
 Arrival at Washington. Procession to the Hotel. Most Curious Spectacle. How the Treaty was 
 Carried. Ceremonies at the White House Salutations and Speeches. Impressive International 
 Scene. Japanese Diplomacy. Delivering the Tycoon's Letter. Appearance of the Ambassadors. 
 President Buchanan's Opinion Humors and Drolleries " Tommy," the Ladies' Pet. Gallantry 
 to Miss Lane. The Embassy at the Navy Yard. Astonishment Expressed by Them. Adieu to the 
 President. America's Message to the Emperor 485 
 
 TOUR OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, ALBERT EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, I860 
 THROUGH THE UNITED STATES. Friendly Letters Between President Buchanan and Queen 
 Victoria on the Subject. The Prince's First Entrance into American Waters. Unbounded Hospi- 
 talities Extended Him. Hunting Excursions, Military Reviews, Balls, Illuminations, Etc. Splendid 
 Banquet at the White House England's Appreciation of these Honors to Her Future King. Heir 
 to the British Throne. Arrival at Detroit, Chicago, etc. Enthusiastic Crowds Greet Him. His 
 Way Completely Blocked Up. On a Hunt : Fine Sportsman. Receptions at Various Cities. Lo- 
 comotive Ride to Washington. Guest of President Buchanan. Courtesies and Ceremonials. Visit 
 to Mount Vernon. At the Tomb of Washington. Unparalleled Historical Scene. He Plants a 
 Tree at the Grave Rare Scenes in Philadelphia. New York and Boston Festivities Present from 
 Trinity Church, New York. Greatest Balls Ever Known. He Meets a Bunker Hill Veteran. 
 Impressions of America. Incidents, Anecdotes, Interviews. His Looks, Manners, Dress, Etc. 
 Brilliant Farewell at Portland 493 
 
 ASTONISHING FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING PERFORMED BY MR. JOHN S. RAREY. 1861 
 The Most Savage and Furious Animals Made Tractable as Lambs. The Ferocious and Far- 
 Famed " Cruiser " Lies Docile at His Master's Feet. Acclamations of Wonder and Admiration by 
 Crowded Audiences Brilliant Honors from Monarchs and Courts Abroad Philosophy of Mr. 
 Rarey's Method and Success. Details of the System. Mr. Rarey Personally 509 
 
 THE NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. Popular Organizations in the Interests of Labor, m? 
 Changes Sought in the Relations between Producers and Consumers. General Declaration of 
 Principles and Aims. A System of Universal Co-operation Proposed. Results to be Realized by 
 Sucli Combinations. Patrons of Husbandry and Sovereigns of Industry. Initiative Proceedings in 
 1867. First Grange Founded in Washington, D. C. Agriculture the Grand Basis. Mutual Pro- 
 tection and Advancement. Small Encouragement at the Beginning. Immense Growth in Five 
 Years. Activity in the West and South. Social and Moral Aspects Plan of Business Action. 
 Partisan Prejudices Disavowed No Political Tests Involved. Opinions of Eminent Leaders Cited. 
 Views of Foreign Publicists. Vital Point in the New System. Commercial and Financial Theo- 
 ries. Grain and Cotton Products Alleged Errors in Trade Customs Individual vs. Associated 
 Efforts. ' Middlemen ' a Disadvantage. Substitute for their Intervention. The Case Illustrated. 
 Difficulties and Remedies 660 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION OF THE BIRTH OF THE REPUBLIC Year of 1876 
 Jubilee, Festival, and Pageant, throughout the Land Prosperity, Power, and Renown of the Na- 
 tion. A Union of Nearly Forty Great Commonwealths and Forty Million People. -Anticipations 
 of the Coming Anniversary. Legislation by Congress for its Patriotic Observance. A Grand Expo- 
 sition of the Century's Growth and Progress, the Principal Feature Decided Upon. Vast Work of 
 Preparation. The Whole World at Peace, and all Countries and Climes in Sympathy with the Re- 
 public and its Auspicious Era. Ushering in the Year's Ceremonials. Every City, Town, and Vil- 
 lage, Covered with Gay Streamers and Waving Flags. Pomp, Parade, and Universal Fraternization. 
 Wondrous Microcosm of Civilization Concentrated at Philadelphia. The Culminating Art and 
 Skill of Sixty Centuries of Human Advancement, and the Products of Every Quarter of the Globe, 
 Displayed in Their Richest Illustrations. An Unprecedented Scene : President and Emperor Re- 
 ceiving the Salutations of the American People. Oratory, Music, Poetry, Bells, Illuminations, Can- 
 non, Regattas, Banners, Hallelujahs, and Huzzas. The Beauty, Utility, and Magnificence of the 
 Orient and Occident, in Boundless Combinations. The " Glorious Fourth " All Over the Land. 
 Congratulatory Letter from the Emperor of Germany 689 
 
SUBJECT. 
 HO. I 
 
 1. SIGNING THE DECLARATION OP INDEPEND- 
 
 ENCE (FRONTISPIECE) 
 
 2. Preface, --------- 
 
 3. The Opened Pa gee, ------ 
 
 4. Symbolical Head-piece, - - - - - 
 6. Genius of Art, ------- 
 
 6. Kinging of the Bell, July 4th, 1776, - 
 
 7. Hall of Independence, Philadelphia, 1776, 
 
 8 Hoisting First Naval Flag, - - - - - 
 
 9. John Paul Jones; Portrait and Autograph, - 
 
 10. FIBST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORV, 
 
 11. WONDERFUL DARK DAY, MAY 19, 1780, - 
 
 12. Traveling during the Dark Day, - 
 
 13. Change of Scene after the Dark Day, 
 
 14. The House where Cornwallis Surrendered 
 16. Arnold's Reward for Treason, - 
 
 16. Capture of Major Andre, - - - - - 
 
 17. General Arnold, with Autograph, 
 
 18. West Point in 1780, 
 
 19. Arnold's Head-quarters, - - - - - 
 
 20. CORNWALLIS'S SURRENDER, - - - - 
 
 21. Cornwallis; Portrait and Autograph, 
 
 22. Washington's Sword, ------ 
 
 23. The Washington Elm, Cambridge, Mass., 
 
 24. WASHINGTON'S RESIGNATION, - - - - 
 
 25. Amity between England and America, - 
 
 26. George the Third; Portrait and Autograph, - 
 
 27. FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND, RECEPTION 
 
 OF JOHN ADAMS, ------ 
 
 28. John Adams; Portrait and Autograph, - 
 
 29. Enrolling the Constitution, - 
 
 30. CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA, 1787, - 
 
 31. Franklin Pleading for Pacification, - 
 
 32. Washington's Inauguration Bible, - - - 
 
 33. FIRST INAUGURATION OF A PRESIDENT, 
 
 34. Presidential Mansion, 1789, - - - - 
 38. Presidential Mansion, 11-76, - - - - 
 
 36. Treating with the Indians, - - - - - 
 
 37. WAYNE'S DEFEAT OF THE INDIANS, 
 
 38. Anthony Wayne; Portrait and Autograph, 
 
 39. General St. Glair; Portrait and Autograph, - 
 
 40. "Little Turtle;" Portrait, - - - - 
 
 41. Results of the Cotton-Gin, 
 
 42. ELI WHITNEY'S COTTON-GIN, 1793, - - - 
 
 43. Eli Whitney; Portrait and Autograph, - 
 
 44. Causes of the Whiskey Insurrection in Penn., 
 
 46. Famous Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsylvania, 106 
 
 46. David Bradford; Portrait, - ... 
 
 47. General Henry Lee; Portrait, - - - 
 
 48. WASHINGTON, D. C., IN 1876, - - - 
 
 49. National Capitol in 1876, - - - - 
 
 60. Symbolic Statue of Amei lea, on the U.S.Capitol, 117 
 
 OE. 
 
 no. 
 
 
 61. 
 
 
 62. 
 
 7 
 
 63. 
 
 9 
 
 M. 
 
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 66. 
 
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 93. 
 
 109 
 
 94. 
 
 111 
 
 95. 
 
 116 
 
 96. 
 
 117 
 
 97. 
 
 , 117 
 
 98. 
 
 Martha Washington; Portrait anil Autograph, 120 
 
 DEATH OF WASHINGTON, DECEMBER 14, 1799, 122 
 
 George Washington, as Colonel, - - - 123 
 
 George Washington, General C. S. A., - - 124 
 George Washington, President of the United 
 
 States; Portrait and Autograph, - - 124 
 
 Tomb of Washington, 125 
 
 Scene of the Burr and Hamilton Duel, Wee- 
 
 hawken, 131 
 
 Hamilton's Tomb, 127 
 
 Aaron Burr, with Autograph, - - - - 128 
 
 Alexander Hamilton with Autograph, - - 128 
 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE, IN 1806, - - - 136 
 
 Progress of the Solar Eclipse, - - - - 130 
 
 TOTAL ECLIPSE, IN 1869, 137 
 
 Eclipse, as seen in Brazil, ----- 140 
 
 Burr's Flight, 142 
 
 BREAKING UP OF BURR'S EXPEDITION, - - 146 
 
 Burr and His Deluded Followers, - - - 146 
 
 Theodosia; Portrait and Autograph, - - 148 
 
 First Steam-boat on the Hudson, - - - 150 
 
 Robert Fulton; Portrait and Autograph, - 151 
 
 FULTON'S FIRST STEAM-BOAT, - - - 163 
 
 After the Earthquake, ----- 186 
 
 Scene of the Great Earthquake in the West, - 158 
 
 EARTHQUAKE SCENE IN SAN FRANCISCO, - 161 
 
 Perry's Flag on Lake Erie, - 163 
 
 Commodore Perry ; Portrait and Autograph, 165 
 
 BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE, PERRY'S VICTORY, 167 
 
 General Harrison; Portrait and Autograph, - 170 
 
 American Defenses at New Orleans, - - 171 
 
 Andrew Jackson; Portrait and Autograph, - 174 
 BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS, JACKSON'S 
 
 TERRIFIC SLAUGHTER OF THE BRITISH, - 17C 
 
 Destruction by the Great Gale and Flood, - 178 
 The Ever-Memorable Gale, September 23, 1825, 180 
 Horrors of the Whirlwind throughout New 
 
 England, --------183 
 
 The Landing of Lafayette at New York, - 186 
 
 Lafayette; Portrait and Autograph, - - 188 
 
 Sword of Honor Presented to Lafayette, - 190 
 
 Lafayette's Residence, ----- 101 
 
 Lafayette's Birthplace, ----- lay 
 
 Lafayette's Tomb, ------ 195 
 
 Preliminaries of the Code of Honor, - - 196 
 
 Henry Clay; Portrait and Autograph, - - 198 
 
 John Randolph; Portrait antl Autograph, - 200 
 
 DUELING-GROUND AT BLADENSBUHG, - - 202 
 
 The Victor's Wreath, 206 
 
 Robert Y. Hayne; Portrait, - 207 
 
 Daniel Webster; Portrait, - 209 
 
 Webster's Reply to Hayne, - - 21S 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 JC. 
 
 99. 
 
 too. 
 
 101. 
 102. 
 103. 
 
 104. 
 105. 
 
 106. 
 107. 
 108. 
 
 109. 
 110. 
 
 111. 
 112. 
 113. 
 114. 
 115. 
 
 116. 
 117. 
 
 118. 
 
 119. 
 
 120. 
 121. 
 122. 
 123. 
 
 124. 
 
 125. 
 126. 
 127. 
 128. 
 129. 
 
 180. 
 131. 
 
 132. 
 
 133. 
 
 134. 
 135. 
 136. 
 137. 
 
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 139. 
 
 140. 
 
 141. 
 
 142. 
 143. 
 144. 
 145. 
 
 146. 
 147. 
 
 148. 
 149. 
 
 150. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Joseph Smith; Portrait and Autograph, - 216 
 
 Brigham Young; I'ortrait and Autograph, 218 
 
 Mormon Temple, ------ 220 
 
 SALT LAKE CITY, THE MORMON Ziox, - - 221 
 Appeal of a Beautiful Girl to Gibbs to Spare 
 
 her Life, 222 
 
 Pirate Gibbs; I'ortrait, 224 
 
 GIBBS BUTCHERING THE CREW OF ONE OF 
 
 HIS PRIZES, - 226 
 
 METEORIC SHOWER AT BOSTON, - 228 
 Meteoric Shower, as seen at Niagara Falls, - 230 
 Remarkable Meteoric Display on the Missis- 
 sippi, 233 
 
 The Preservation, ------ 236 
 
 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT 
 
 JACKSON, 238 
 
 Richard Lawrence; Portrait, - - - - 240 
 
 Hanging the Telegraph Wire, - 244 
 
 THE ORIGINAL TELEGRAPHIC INSTRUMENT, 246 
 
 Professor Morse; Portrait and Autograph, - 248 
 Orders of Glory Conferred on Professor 
 
 Morse, 250 
 
 Monster Petition to Congress, - 252 
 
 John Quincy Adams; Portrait and Autograph, 254 
 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS DEFENDING THB 
 
 EIGHT OF FF.TITION IN CONGRESS, - - 258 
 Safe Place for the Key to Public Funds, - 263 
 Thomas H. Benton; Portrait and Autograph, 265 
 Fac-Simile Copy of Expunging Resolution, - 2OT 
 Singular Form of Auroral Arch, - 269 
 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS OF NO- 
 VEMBER 13 AND 14, 1837, - 271 
 
 View of the Aurora Borealis in its early Stages, 274 
 
 Effect of the Temperance Reformation, - 276 
 
 Signing the Pledge, ------ 279 
 
 DISTINGUISHED TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES, 282 
 
 Exploring the North-west, - - - - 286 
 
 Planting American Flag on the Rocky Mount- 
 
 aiuB, by Fremont, .----- 287 
 
 John C. Fremont; Portrait and Autograph, - 288 
 Fremont on his Great Exploring Tour to the 
 
 Far West and Rocky Mountains, - - 289 
 Mutiny on Board the United States Brig Som- 
 ers; Hanging of the Ringleaders from the 
 
 Yard-arm, -------- 297 
 
 The Black Flag Intended to be Raised on 
 
 Board the United States Brig Somers, - 291 
 
 Commodore MacKenzie, with Autograph, - 293 
 
 Midshipman Spencer, with Autograph, - - 296 
 
 View of the Comet when Nearest the Earth, 303 
 APPEARANCE OF THE COMET IN FULL 
 
 SPLENDOR, ------- 304 
 
 Telescopic View of the Comet, ... 306 
 The Great Day Prophesied by the Second 
 Adventists, -------307 
 
 SYMBOLICAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE SEC- 
 OND ADVENT PROPHECIES, - 309 
 William Miller; Portrait and Autograph, 313 
 Stockton's Great Gun, the "Peacemaker," - 315 
 President Tyler; Portrait and Autograph, - 316 
 Secretary Gilmer; Portrait and Autograph, 318 
 Explosion of the Great Gun on Board the 
 
 United States Steamship Princeton, - - 319 
 Secretary Upshur; Portrait and Autograph, 320 
 Commodore Stockton; Portrait and Auto- 
 graph, -------- 322 
 
 Relieving Pain by the Use of Ether, - - 324 
 The Three Claimants of the Discovery of 
 
 Painless Surgery, by Ether, - - - - 326 
 
 MONUMENT ERECTED IN HONOR OF THE 
 
 DISCOVERY OF ETHER, ----- 330 
 
 SUBJECT. 
 ire. Fiot. 
 
 15 . The Inventor Toiling in His Garret, - - 332 
 
 152. Elias Howe, Jr.; Portrait and Autograph, - 3M 
 
 153. THE OLD AND NEW: SEWING BY HAND AND 
 
 MACHINE, .-..._. 335 
 
 154. House in which Spiritual Rappings Originated, 340 
 
 155. The Misses Fox; Portraits, - 342 
 
 156. D. D. Home; Portrait, 343 
 
 157. Cora L. V. Hatch; Portrait, - 345 
 
 158. Spiritual Autograph of Lord Bacon, - - 34B 
 
 159. A. J. Davis; Portrait, ----- 346 
 180. Judge Edmonds; Portrait, - 345 
 
 161 . Spiritual Autograph of Swedenborg. - - 345 
 
 162. STORMING OF CHAPULTEPEC, - - - .347 
 
 163. Proident Polk; Portrait and Autograph S4& 
 
 164. General Taylor; Portrait and Autojraph, - 349 
 
 165. Santa Anna; Portrait and Autograph, - - 360 
 
 16 . General Scott; Portrait and Autograph, - 351 
 
 167. GENERAL SCOTT'S GRAND ENTRANCE INTO 
 
 THE MEXICAN CAPITAL, - 352 
 
 168. Lieutenant Lynch; Portrait and Autograph, 366 
 
 169. VALLEY OF THE JORDAN AND DEAD SEA, - 367 
 
 170. Right Bank of the Dead Sea, - 368 
 
 171. Mining Operations in California, - 360 
 
 172. SUTTER'S MILL, WHERE GOLD WAS FIRST 
 
 DISCOVERED IN 1848. ----- 362 
 
 173. John A. Sutter; Portrait, 363 
 
 175. James W. Marshall; Portrait, ... - 366 
 
 175. Struck with the Cholera, 368 
 
 176. MONUMENT TO THE VICTIMS OF CHOLERA, - 370 
 
 177. Horrors of the Great Epidemic, - - - 372 
 
 178. Professor Webster's Murder Appliances, - 376 
 
 179. Doctor Parkman; Portrait and Autograph, - 378 
 
 180. Professor Webster; Portrait and Autograph, 380 
 
 181. PROFESSOR WEBSTER'S CELL IN PRISON, - 382 
 
 182. Jenny Lind; Portrait and Autograph, - - 388 
 
 183. P. T. Barnum; Portrait and Autograph, - 390 
 
 184. Jenny Lind's Appearance at Castle Garden, 392 
 
 185. Double Execution in San Francisco, - - 395 
 
 186. Seal of the California Vigilance Committee, 397 
 
 187. EXECUTIONS BY THE VIGILANCE COMMIT- 
 
 TEE, IN SAN FRANCISCO, - 400 
 
 188. George Steers; Portrait, ----- 406 
 
 189. YACHT AMERICA; J. C. STEVENS, COMMO- 
 
 DORE, ..------407 
 
 190. " Cup of All Nations," Won by the America, 409 
 
 191. United States Steamer Mississippi, convey- 
 
 ing Kossuth, 412 
 
 192. Governor Kossuth; Portrait and Autograph, 414 
 
 193. GRAND MILITARY RECEPTION OF GOVERN- 
 
 OR KOSSUTH is NEW YORK, - - - 417 
 
 194. Interior of the World's Fair, New York, - 421 
 196. Theodore Sedgwick ; Portrait and Autograph, 423 
 
 196. CRYSTAL PALACE OF NEW YORK, FOR THE 
 
 EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRIES OF ALL 
 NATIONS, --------428 
 
 197. Steamship, Arctic, ------ 429 
 
 198. Loss OF THB COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC 
 
 BY COLLISION AT NOONDAY IN MID- 
 OCEAN, .------- 433 
 
 199. Assault on Senator Sumner, by P. S. Brooks, 443 
 
 200. Liberty for Kansas, ------ 437 
 
 201. Hon. Charles Sumner, with Autograph, - 441 
 
 202. Hon. P. S. Brooks, with Autograph, - - 444 
 
 203. Hon. A. P. Butler, with Autograph, - - 48 
 
 204. Run on a Bank, ------- ," 
 
 205. EXCITEMENT IN BUSINESS CIRCLES DURINO 
 
 THE GREAT PANIC. - ... 449 
 
 206. Effects of the Hard Times. - - 4M 
 
 207. Book of Requests for Prayers, - 466 
 
 208. Group of Eminent Revival Preachers, dur- 
 
 ing the National Century, - - - 48 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 MO. PAOE. 
 
 -'09. Dwight L. Moody ; Portrait, - 464 
 
 210. Ira D. Sankey; Portrait, - - 464 
 
 211. REVIVAL MEETINGS, MOODY AND SANKEY, 466 
 
 :;12. State Capital of Illinois, 469 
 
 -'13. DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN- AND DOUGLAS, 470 
 
 214. Stephen A. Douglas; Portrait and Autograph, 474 
 
 215. Petroleum Wells, ------ 476 
 
 216 Petroleum Wells in Pennsylvania, - - - 478 
 
 217. Process of Boring for Petroleum, - - 479 
 
 218. BUKNINGOFONE OF TUB GREAT Oil, WELLS, 482 
 
 21.1. Japanese Box Containing the Treaty, - - 485 
 
 220. RECEPTION OF THE EMBASSY FROM JAPAN, 487 
 
 221. Ambassadors Simmi Boojsen Nokauii and 
 
 Mooragaki Awajsi Nokami, - 491 
 
 22-'. The Prince of Wales at Washington's Tomb, 494 
 
 223. Prince of Wales; Portrait and Autograph, - 495 
 
 224. BALL GIVEN TO THE PRINCE OF WALES, - 498 
 
 225. Flag of Fort Sumter after the Bombardment, 502 
 
 226. Major Anderson, with Autograph, - - - 503 
 
 227. General Beauregard, with Autograph, - - 505 
 
 228. Interior of Fort Sumter after Bombardment, 507 
 
 229. "Cruiser" Untamed, 509 
 
 230. John S. Karey; Portrait, ----- 511 
 
 231. Mr. Earey's Method of Taming Horses, - - 514 
 
 232. Monument on the Bull Hun Battle-field, - 518 
 
 233. General McDowell; Portrait and Autograph, 519 
 
 234. General Johnson ; Portrait and Autograph, - 521 
 
 235. BATTLE OF BULL BUN, - - 623 
 
 236. Interior of the Tower of the Monitor, - - 526 
 
 237. Com. Buchanan ; Portrait and Autograph, - 528 
 
 238. Combat between the Merrimac and Monitor, 531 
 
 239. Lieut. Worden ; Portrait and Autograph, - 533 
 24". Burying the Dead at Antietam, - 535 
 
 241. General McClellan; Portrait and Autograph, - 537 
 
 242. General Burnside; Portrait and Autograph, - 538 
 
 243. BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, ----- 539 
 
 244. General " Stonewall " Jackson; Portrait, - 540 
 
 245. General Hooker; Portrait and Autograph, - 841 
 
 246. Pen used in Signing the Proclamation, - - 544 
 
 247. Secretary Seward; Portrait and Autograph, - 545 
 
 248. Secretary Stanton; Portrait and Autograph, 546 
 
 249. President Lincoln; Portrait anil Autograph, 547 
 
 250. PBOCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, - - 549 
 351. Operations at Vicksburg, ----- 554 
 
 252. General J. C. Pernberton, ----- 656 
 
 253. SlEOE AT VlCKSBUBG BY GENERAL GRANT, 557 
 
 254. General McPherson; Portrait, - 559 
 265. Interview between Grant and Pemberton, - 560 
 
 256. General Meade's Head-quarters, - 563 
 
 257. General Meade, with Autograph, - - - 665 
 
 258. Battle of Gettysburg, ------ 667 
 
 259. General Longstreet, with Autograph, - - 689 
 
 260. Soldiers' Monument at Gettysburg, - - 571 
 
 261. Henry Ward Beecher; Vignette Portrait, - 573 
 
 262. BEECHER DEFENDING THE AMERICAN 
 
 UNION, IN EXETER HALL, LONDON, - - 575 
 
 263. Mr. Beecher's Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., - 679 
 201. Merchant Vessel burned by the Alabama, - 581 
 205. Captain Serames, with Autograph, - - - 583 
 2ii6. Captain Winsjow, with Autograph, - - - 685 
 2i>7. Contest between the Kearsarge and Alabama, 587 
 268. Farragut's Flag-Ship, " Hartford," - -590 
 2(. Admiral Farragut, - - - , - - 591 
 2T". Admiral Porter, ------- 591 
 
 271. Admiral Foote, , - - 591 
 
 272. Admiral Dupont, ... - - 591 
 
 273. Admiral Farragut's Victory in Mobile Bay, - 594 
 
 274. Head-quarters Atlanta, Ga., - - - - 598 
 
 275. General Sherman; Portrait and Autoflra/ih, - 00 
 27fi. Sherman's Grand March through the South, 602 
 277. General Lee's Surrender to Lieut. Gen. Grant, 607 
 
 SUBJECT. 
 NO. PAOK. 
 
 278. Richmond Entered by the Union Army, - 610 
 
 279. Lincoln's Early Home, ----- 617 
 
 280. Ford's Theater at Washington, - - - 618 
 261. ASSASSINATION OF I'KKSIDENT LINCOLN, - 620 
 
 282. House where Lincoln died, - - - - 621 
 
 283. J- Wikes Booth; I'ortrait and Autoyraph, - 622 
 
 284. Lincoln's Residence at Springfield, 111., - - 623 
 :>.'. .Sergeant Boston Corbett; Portrait, - - - 624 
 
 286. Burial Place of Lincoln, ----- 626 
 
 287. Section of the Atlantic Cable, - - - - 629 
 
 288. Cyrus W. Field; Portrait anil Autograph, - 631 
 
 289. Arrival of the Great Eastern with Cable, - 635 
 
 290. Mountain Scene on the Pacific Kailroad, - 648 
 
 291. COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD, - 641 
 
 292. Traveler's Dependence in Ulden Times, - - 645 
 
 293. Locomotive " Rocket," ----- 646 
 
 294. Locomotive of To-day, 647 
 
 295. Original Steam Car, ------ 648 
 
 296. Modern Railway Car, 649 
 
 297. METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILROAD, N.Y., 652 
 
 298. Mr. Ogden's House Untouched in the Midst 
 
 of the Great Fire, 663 
 
 299. BURNING OF CHICAGO, OCT. 8 AND 9, 1871, - 657 
 
 300. EMBLEM OF INDUSTRY; Vignette, - - - 660 
 
 301. Symbols of Co-operative Labor Organizations, 662 
 
 302. SPIRIT OF THE GRANGE MOVEMENT, - - 664 
 
 303. THE SCHOOL-HOUSE AS IT WAS, - - - 667 
 
 304. Yale College in 1784, ------ 668 
 
 305. Old King's College, 668 
 
 306. First Harvard College, 668 
 
 307. North-Western University, - - - - 669 
 
 308. Normal School, New York, - 670 
 
 309. View of Yale College Grounds, - - - - 672 
 
 310. View of Harvard College Grounds, - - - 673 
 
 311. The Great Catholic Cathedral, New York, - 675 
 
 312. Archbishop McCloskey; Portrait, - - - 676 
 
 313. CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST AMERICAN 
 
 CARDINAL, ------- 678 
 
 314. Electric Lamp, - - - 681 
 
 315. ELECTRIC LIGHT AT SEA, ----- 683 
 
 316. Thomas A. Edison, with Autograph, - - 684 
 
 317. The Phonograph, ------ 685 
 
 318. House in which Jefferson wrote the Declara- 
 
 tion of Independence, - - - 689 
 
 319. OPENING OF THE CENTENNIAL EXHIBITION, 691 
 
 320. The Corliss Engine, - 692 
 
 321. EXHIBITION BUILDINGS IN PHILADELPHIA, 694 
 
 322. INDEPENDENCE HALL, JULY 4, 1876, - - 695 
 
 323. UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK, JULY 4, 1876, - 697 
 
 324. READING THE ORIGINAL DECLARATION OF 
 
 INDEPENDENCE, JULY 4, 1876, - - - 699 
 
 326. Entrance of the N. Y. 7th Regiment, - - 701 
 326 State Avenue, at the Centennial, - 702 
 
 327. Woman's Pavilion, at the Centennial, - - 703 
 
 328. The Tunisian Tent, at the Centennial, - - 704 
 
 329. ALL HAIL TO THE HEREAFTER! - 706 
 
 330. Flag of the German Empire, - - - - 707 
 
 331. EMPEROR WILLIAM, with Autograph, - - 707 
 
 332. ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD, - 709 
 
 333. View of Garfleld's Home at Mentor, - - 710 
 
 334. Portrait of Mrs. Garfield, - - - - 711 
 
 335. Portrait of Prest. Garfleld's Mother, - - 714 
 
 336. Portraits of Drs. Agnew, Hamilton and Bliss, 716 
 
 337. Francklyn Cottage, Elberon, - - 717 
 S3B. Portrait of President Garfleld, - - - 718 
 
 339. Death of President Garfleld, - - - - 720 
 
 340. Body Lying in State in the Capitol Rotunda, 722 
 
 341. Viewing the Remains at Cleveland, O., - - 724 
 
 342. Receiving Vault, - 725 
 
 343. Lake View Cemetery, - .... 726 
 144. " Victoria's " Flora) Offering, - - - 726 
 
I. 
 
 BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUBLIC. 1776. 
 
 Declaration of American Independence and National Sovereignty, July Fourth, 1776. The Gauntlet of 
 Defiance thrown at the Feet of the British Empire by Her Youngest Colonies. Vast Disparity, in 
 Power and Resources, between the Contestants. The whole World looks on Astonished. Seven 
 Years' Bloody and Desolating War. The American Cause Triumphant. Grandest Modern Event. 
 America Resists Unjust Taxation. Haughty Obstinacy of King George. Burning Eloquence of Pat- 
 rick Henry. Hid Summons, " We Must Fight." Washington Endorses this Sentiment. Determina- 
 tion of the People. War Preferred to Submission. Momentous Action by Congress. Separation 
 from England Decreed. Effect of the Act in America. Its Reception in England. Excitement of the 
 King and Court. Lord Chatham, America's Advocate. His Passionate Change of Views. Scorch- 
 ing Speech against the Colonies. He is Struck Dead while Speaking. Magnanimity of Burke and 
 Fox. Recognition from France Secured. Her Timely Aid in the Struggle. Victories over the 
 British Armies. England Gives Up the Contest. World-wide Welcome to the New Nation. 
 
 It will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, 
 ov solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, gun, belli, bon- 
 ureB and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forth, forevermore. 'JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 EINOISO OF THE BELL, JULY 4, 1776. 
 
 NE HUNDRED YEARS ago, namely, on 
 the Fourth of July, 1776, there was born in 
 the western world a New Nation, the RE- 
 PUBLIC OF THE UNITED STATES. Defiance lo 
 tyrants was emblazoned in empyreal light upon 
 her brow, and Freedom and Justice were the 
 frontlets between her eyes. Mon- 
 archs, crowned with kingly dia- 
 dems, stood awed at the august 
 manifesto, and at the solemn ar- 
 raignment of King George before 
 the judgment of mankind, and 
 parliaments and cabinets started 
 in dismay to their feet ; but the 
 People, as they descried the eagle 
 of Liberty spreading her wings, 
 and soaring proudly aloft, breath- 
 ed freer and took stronger heart, 
 as the clear ring of her voice 
 sounded through the air, declar- 
 ing, with grandly rounded enun- 
 ciation, that " all men are created 
 equal." 
 
 Refusing to pay the tribute of taxation arbitrarily imposed 
 upon them at the point of the bayonet by the British crown, 
 
26 
 
 BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUBLIC. 
 
 failing, too, to move the king and his min- 
 isters from their career of haughty and 
 reckless obstinacy, the thirteen American 
 colonies found themselves reduced to the 
 alternative of abject submission to their 
 so-called royal masters, or of armed resist- 
 ance. Already there had flashed through- 
 out the country the electric words of Pat- 
 rick Henry, " We must fight ! An appeal 
 to arms and to the God of Hosts is all 
 that is left us. I repeat it, sir, we must 
 fight!" And as the blood of patriot 
 hearts had now flowed freely and bravely 
 at Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker 
 Hill, Washington declared, in words of 
 solemn emphasis and characteristic brevity, 
 " Nothing short of INDEPENDENCE, it ap- 
 pears to me, can possibly do." He also 
 warmly approved and commended Paine's 
 pamphlet, " Common Sense," written to 
 this end. The sons of liberty shouted their 
 responsive acclaim to this manly summons 
 from the great American soldier Wash- 
 ington and, like the sound of many wa- 
 ters, the spirit of national independence 
 which thus possessed the people came upon 
 the continental congress, then in session in 
 the state-house at Philadelphia, Pennsyl- 
 vania. 
 
 It was in this temple of freedom, where- 
 in was sitting as noble and august a legis- 
 lative body as the world ever saw, that 
 Richard Henry Lee introduced a resolu- 
 tion, on the 7th of June, 1776, declaring, 
 " That the United Colonies are and ought 
 to be free and independent States, and that 
 their political connection with Great Brit- 
 ain is and ought to be dissolved." Upon 
 this resolution there sprang up at once an 
 earnest and powerful debate. It was op- 
 posed, principally, on the ground that it 
 was premature. Some of the best and 
 strongest advocates of colonial rights spoke 
 and voted against the motion, which at last 
 was adopted only by a vote of seven States 
 in its favor to six against. Some of the 
 delegates had not received definite instruc- 
 tions from their constituents, and others 
 had been requested to vote against it. Its 
 further consideration was accordingly post- 
 poned until there was a prospect of greater 
 
 unanimity. On the eleventh of June, 
 therefore, a committee was appointed to 
 draft a formal Declaration ; this commit- 
 tee consisting of Benjamin Franklin, John 
 Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Roger Sherman, 
 and Robert R. Livingston. 
 
 On the twenty-eighth of June, the com- 
 mittee made their report, and presented 
 the Declaration which they had drawn up. 
 The first or original draft was penned by 
 Mr. Jefferson, chairman of the committee. 
 On the second of July, congress proceeded 
 to the serious consideration of this mo- 
 mentous paper ; the discussion, as to the 
 tone and statements characterizing the 
 document, and the propriety of adopting 
 at that time a measure so decisive, lasted 
 for nearly three days, and was extremely 
 earnest. It was so powerfully opposed by 
 some of the members, that Jefferson com- 
 pared the opposition to " the ceaseless ac- 
 tion of gravity, weighing upon us by night 
 and by day." Its supporters, however, 
 were the leading minds, and urged its 
 adoption with masterly eloquence and abil- 
 ity. John Adams, Jefferson asserts, was 
 " the colossus in that debate," and " fought 
 fearlessly for every word of it." The bond 
 which was formed between those two great 
 men on this occasion seems never to have 
 been completely severed, both of them 
 finally expiring, with a sort of poetic jus- 
 tice, on the fiftieth anniversary of the act 
 which constituted their chief glory. 
 
 Well and truly did the mighty patriot 
 Adams characterize this event as the most 
 memorable epoch in the history of Amer- 
 ica. " I am apt to believe," said he, " that 
 it will be celebrated by succeeding genera- 
 tions, as the great anniversary festival. It 
 ought to be commemorated as the day of 
 deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to 
 Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized 
 with pomp and parade, with shows, games, 
 sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illumina- 
 tions, from one end of this continent to 
 the other, from this time forth forever- 
 more ! " The result has equaled the great 
 patriot's wishes. Tradition gives a dra- 
 matic effect to its announcement. It was 
 known, throughout the city, that the great 
 
BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUBLIC. 
 
 27 
 
 event was to be determined that day, by 
 the last formal acts ; but the closed doors 
 of congress excluded the populace from 
 witnessing the august assembly or its pro- 
 ceedings, though thousands of anxious 
 citizens had gathered around the building, 
 eager to hear the words of national des- 
 tiny soon to be officially proclaimed. From 
 the hour when congress came together in 
 the forenoon, all business was suspended 
 throughout the city, and the old bellman 
 steadily remained at his post in the steeple, 
 prepared to sound forth to the waiting 
 multitudes the expected glad tidings. He 
 had even stationed a boy at the door of the 
 hall below, to give immediate signal of the 
 turn of events. This bell, manufactured 
 
 felt such a professional pride, the electri- 
 fied old patriot rung forth such a joyous 
 peal as wad never heard before, nor ceased 
 to hurl it backward and forward, till every 
 voice joined in its notes of gladness and 
 triumph. The roar of cannon, and illu- 
 minations from every house and hill-top, 
 added to these demonstrations of uni- 
 versal rejoicing. 
 
 And this was the type of that exultation 
 which everywhere manifested itself, as the 
 news spread with lightning rapidity from 
 city to city and from State to State. Every 
 American patriot regarded the declaration 
 by congress as the noble performance of 
 an act which had become inevitable ; and 
 the paper itself as the complete vindica- 
 
 HAI.T, OF INDEPENDENCE, PHILADELPHIA, 1776. 
 
 in England, bore upon its ample curve the 
 now prophetic inscription, "Proclaim lib- 
 erty throughout all the land unto all the 
 inhabitants thereof." Hours passed on, 
 and fear began to take the place of hope 
 in many a heart ; even the venerable and 
 always cheerful bellman was overheard in 
 his despondent soliloquy, " They will never 
 do it! they will never do it!" Finally, 
 at about two o'clock in the afternoon, 
 the door of the mysterious hall swung 
 open, and a voice exclaimed, " Passed ! 
 it has passed ! " The word was caught up 
 by ten thousand glad mouths, and the 
 watch-boy now clapped his hands and 
 shouted, " Ring ! Ring ! " Seizing the iron 
 tongue of the bell in which he had long 
 
 tion of America before the bar of public 
 opinion throughout the world. When it 
 was read by the magistrates and other 
 functionaries, in the cities and towns of 
 the whole nation, it was greeted with 
 shouts, bonfires, and processions. It was 
 read to the troops, drawn up under erms, 
 and to the congregations in churches by 
 ministers from the pulpit. Washington 
 hailed the declaration with joy. It is 
 true, it was but a formal recognition of a 
 state of things which had long existed, but 
 it put an end to all those temporizing hopes 
 of reconciliation which had clogged the 
 military action of the country. On the 
 ninth of July, therefore, Washington 
 caused it to be read at six o'clock in the 
 
28 
 
 BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUBLIC. 
 
 evening, at the head of each brigade of 
 the armj'. " The general hopes," said he 
 in his orders, " that this important event 
 will serve as a fresh incentive to every 
 officer and soldier, to act with fidelity and 
 courage, as knowing that now the peace 
 and safety of his country depend, under 
 God, solely on the success of our arms ; 
 and that he is now in the service of a 
 State, possessed of sufficient power to re- 
 ward his merit, and advance him to the 
 highest honors of a free country." The 
 troops listened to the reading of this with 
 eager attention, and at its close broke forth 
 in tumultuous applause. 
 
 The excitable populace of New York 
 were not content with the ringing of bells 
 and the other usual manifestations of 
 public joy. There was a leaden eques- 
 trian statue of George the Third in the 
 Bowling Green, in front of the fort. 
 Around this kingly effigy the excited mul- 
 titude, surging hither and thither, unit- 
 edly gathered, and pulling it down to the 
 ground, broke it into fragments, which 
 fragments were afterwards conveniently 
 molded into bullets and made to do service 
 against his majesty's troops. Some of the 
 soldiers and officers of the American army 
 having joined in this proceeding, Wash- 
 ington censured it, as having much the 
 appearance of a riot and a want of disci- 
 pline, and the army was ordered to abstain, 
 in the future, fr^m all irregularities of the 
 kind. 
 
 In Boston, that citadel of radical insub- 
 ordination to "his majesty," the public 
 joy knew no bounds, and even the British 
 prisoners were courteously summoned to 
 witness the spirit with which a brave peo- 
 ple, determined to be free, dared to defy 
 the British throne. On the seventeenth 
 of July the British officers on parole re- 
 ceived each a card from the governor, re- 
 questing the honor of said officer's attend- 
 ance at a specified hour on the morrow, in 
 the town hall. As rumors were pretty 
 well afloat, however, touching the decided 
 step that had been taken at Philadelphia, 
 the officers were not without a suspicion as 
 to the purport of the meeting, and hesi- 
 
 tated for a while as to the consistency of 
 giving the sanction of their presence to a 
 proceeding which they could not but re- 
 gard as traitorous. Curiosity, however, 
 got the better of these scruples, and it was 
 resolved, after a brief consultation, that 
 the invitation ought to be accepted. 
 
 On entering the hall, the king's officers 
 found it occupied by ' rebellious ' function- 
 aries, military, civil, and ecclesiastical, and 
 among whom the same good humor and 
 excitement prevailed as among the throng 
 out of doors. The British officials were 
 received with great frankness and cordi- 
 ality, and were allotted such stations as 
 enabled them to witness the whole cere- 
 mony. Exactly as the clock struck one, 
 Colonel Crafts, who occupied the chair, 
 rose, and, silence being obtained, read 
 aloud the declaration, which announced to 
 the world that the tie of allegiance which 
 had so long held Britain and her North 
 American colonies together, was forever 
 separated. This being finished, the gen- 
 tlemen stood up, and each, repeating the 
 words as they were spoken by an officer, 
 swore to uphold, at the sacrifice of life, 
 the rights of his country. Meanwhile, the 
 town clerk read from a balcony the solemn 
 declaration to the collected multitude ; at 
 the close of which, a shout began in the 
 hall and passed like an electric spark to 
 the streets, which now rang with loud huz- 
 zas, the slow and measured boom of can- 
 non, and the rattle of musketry. The 
 batteries on T'ort Hill, Dorchester Neck, 
 the castle, Nantasket, and Long Island, 
 each saluted with thirteen guns, the artil- 
 lery in the town fired thirteen rounds, and 
 the infantry scattered into thirteen divis- 
 ions, poured forth thirteen volleys, all 
 corresponding to the number of states 
 which formed the Union. There was also 
 a municipal banquet, at which speeches 
 were made and toasts drank ; and in the 
 evening a brilliant illumination of the 
 houses. 
 
 In Virginia, the proclamation of inde- 
 pendence was greeted with that same 
 ardor of enthusiasm which for so many 
 years had characterized the people of that 
 
BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUBLIC. 
 
 29 
 
 ancient commonwealth, in the course of 
 political freedom. In South Carolina, too, 
 the declaration was read to the assembled 
 multitudes, amid the greatest rejoicings, 
 public addresses, military and civic proces- 
 sions, bands of music, firing of cannon, 
 and kindred demonstrations of popular 
 favor. In all the colonies, indeed, the 
 declaration was hailed as the passing away 
 of the old w^rld and the birth of the 
 new. 
 
 But the declaration, though it thus 
 solemnly inaugurated a new nation and 
 made the colonies, for the time, the theater 
 of patriotic jubilee, involved startling per- 
 ils and imposed momentous duties ; for it 
 was a defiant challenge to combat thrown 
 by a mere province in the face of the most 
 colossal power in all Christendom. This 
 important paper commences with stating 
 that, " When in the course of human 
 events it becomes necessary for one people 
 to dissolve the political bands which have 
 connected them with another, and to as- 
 sume among the powers of the earth, the 
 separate and equal stations to which the 
 laws of Nature, and of Nature's God, en- 
 title them, a decent respect to the opinions 
 of mankind requires that they should de- 
 clare the causes which impel them to the 
 separation." 
 
 The causes are then stated, and a long 
 enumeration of the oppressions complained 
 of by America is closed by saying that 
 " a prince, whose character is thus marked 
 by every act which may define a tyrant, is 
 unfit to be the ruler of a free people." 
 History may be searched in vain for words 
 so bold and scathing, used by a colony 
 against a powerful sovereign. 
 
 The fruitless appeals which had been 
 made to the people of Great Britain are 
 also recounted, but "they too," concludes 
 this declaration, " have been deaf to the 
 voice of justice and of consanguinity. We 
 must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity 
 which denounces our separation, and hold 
 them, as we hold the rest uf mankind, 
 enemies in war, in peace friends." Then 
 comes the portentous conclusion 
 
 "We, therefore, the representatives of 
 
 the United States of America, in general 
 congress assembled, appealing to the Su- 
 preme Judge for the rectitude of our inten- 
 tions, do, in the name, and by the author- 
 ity of the good people of these colonies, 
 solemnly publish and declare, that these 
 United Colonies are, and of right ought to 
 
 be, FKEE AND INDEPENDENT STATES | that 
 
 they are absolved from all allegiance to 
 the British crown, and that all political 
 connection between them and the State of 
 Great Britain, is, and ought to be, totally 
 dissolved ; and that, as free and independ- 
 ent states, they have full power to levy 
 war, conclude peace, contract alliances, 
 establish commerce, and do all other acts 
 and things, which independent states may 
 of right do. And for the support of this 
 declaration, with a firm reliance on the 
 protection of Divine Providence, we mutu- 
 ally pledge to each other, our lives, our 
 fortunes, and our sacred honor." 
 
 In the whole country, however, between 
 New England and the Potomac, which 
 was now to become the great theater of 
 action, although a vast majority was in 
 favor of independence, there existed an 
 influential number, who not only refused 
 to act with their countrymen, but were 
 ready to give information and aid to the 
 enemy. Most of these Tories were wealthy 
 and haughty, and rendered themselves ex- 
 tremely unpopular. Laws passed by the 
 new State authorities had subjected these 
 persons to fines and imprisonments, and 
 their property to confiscation. They en- 
 dured many outrages, and were treated to 
 "tarrings and feathering " innumerable, 
 by the more violent among the angry pop- 
 ulace. To prevent these outrages, con- 
 gress gave the supervision of tones to 
 committees of inspection. Many of these 
 obnoxious families finally left the country, 
 and in course of time the tory element was 
 eradicated or completely silenced. 
 
 Scarcely less interesting and important 
 is the character of the reception which 
 this remarkable locument met on its ar- 
 rival in England. Of the noble band of 
 American patriots who had been chosen to 
 deliberate and act for the best good of the 
 
30 
 
 BIKTH OF THE NEW KEPUBLIC 
 
 >ppressed colonies, and who, preceding the 
 final act of the declaration of independ- 
 ence, had sent forth the most magnani- 
 mous appeals to Britain's sense of justice, 
 of these men and their works, there had 
 gone forth one of the grandest eulogies 
 from the elder Pitt (Lord Chatham), the 
 greatest of Britain's statesmen, who, in 
 his place in parliament, dared to say 
 
 ''I must declare and avow that in all 
 my reading and study and it has been 
 my favorite study ; I have read Thucydi- 
 des, and have studied and admired the 
 master states of the world that, for so- 
 lidity of reasoning, for force of sagacity, 
 and wisdom of conclusion, under such a 
 complication of circumstances, no nation 
 or body of men can stand in preference to 
 the general congress of Philadelphia." 
 
 But when, a few years after, it was pro- 
 posed, by the British prime minister, to 
 conciliate the exasperated colonies by treat- 
 ing them as a people possessing certain 
 independent rights and powers, Pitt 
 showed the exalted estimation in which 
 he held the rebellious colonies as part of 
 the British realm, by opposing such a 
 course, in a speech of almost dramatic 
 power and effect, and from which, owing 
 to the exhaustion it produced in his own 
 shattered system, the great peer and ora- 
 tor almost immediately died. 
 
 In France, the declaration o\ independ- 
 ence; by the American colonies was greeted 
 with secret satisfaction by the court and 
 rulers, and aroused to universal gladness 
 the popular heart. Reviewing the scene 
 and its actors, one of the most brilliant 
 and popular orators of that intrepid nation 
 was led to say: "With what grandeur, 
 with what enthusiasm, should I not speak 
 of those generous men who erected this 
 grand edifice by their patience, their wis- 
 dom, and their courage ! Hancock, Frank- 
 lin, the two Adamses, were the greatest 
 actors in this affecting scene ; but they 
 were not the only ones. Posterity shall 
 know them all. Their honored names 
 shall be transmitted to it by a happier 
 pen than mine. Brass and marble shall 
 show them to remotest ages. T n behold- 
 
 ing them, shall the friend of freedom feel 
 his heart palpitate with joy feel his eyes 
 float iii delicious tears. Under the bust of 
 one of them has been written, ' He wrested 
 thunder from heaven and the scepter from 
 tyrants.' Of the last words of this eulogy 
 shall all of them partake." Still more preg- 
 nant were the words of the great Mira- 
 beau, as, citing the grand principles of the 
 American Declaration, from his place in 
 the National Assembly, " I ask," he said, 
 " if the powers who have formed alliances 
 with the States have dared to read that 
 manifesto, or to interrogate their con- 
 sciences after the perusal ? I ask whether 
 there be at this day one government in 
 Europe the Helvetic and Batavian con- 
 federations and the British isles excepted 
 which, judged after the principles of the 
 Declaration of Congress on the fourth of 
 July, 1776, is not divested of its rights ! " 
 For more than a year, commissioners 
 from congress, at the head of whom was 
 Dr. Franklin, resided at the court of 
 France, urging upon that government to 
 acknowledge the independence of the 
 United States. But the success of the 
 American struggle was regarded, as yet, 
 too doubtful, for that country to embroil 
 herself in a war with Great Britain. But 
 that great event, the capture of the British 
 army at Saratoga, seemed to increase the 
 probability that the American arms would 
 finally triumph, and decided France to 
 espouse her cause. The aid which France 
 now brought to the Americans was of 
 great importance. It is even doubtful 
 whether the colonies, without her contri- 
 butions of money, navy, and troops, would 
 have been able to resist Britain with final 
 success ; at least, the struggle must have 
 been greatly prolonged. To this inter- 
 vention, however, France was inclined, by 
 her own hostility to England, whom she 
 delighted to see humbled, especially by a 
 people struggling for independence. Fi- 
 nally, after the surrender of Cornwallis to 
 General Washington, the French court 
 pressed upon congress the propriety of ap- 
 pointing commissioners for negotiating 
 peace with Great Britaku In accordance 
 
BIRTH OF THE NEW REPUl'.LIC. 
 
 31 
 
 with this advice, John Adams, Benjamin 
 Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens, 
 were appointed. The commissioners met 
 Messrs. Fitzherbert and Oswald, on the 
 part of Great Britain, at Paris, and provi- 
 sional articles of peace between the two 
 countries were there signed, November 
 thirtieth, 1782 ; the definitive treaty being 
 signed on the third of September, 1783. 
 Holland acknowledged the independence 
 of the United States in 1782; Sweden, in 
 February, 1783; Denmark, in the same 
 month ; Spain, in Marcli ; Russia, in July. 
 And thus, the REPUBLIC OF THE UNITED 
 STATES OF AMERICA became an inde- 
 pendent power among the nations of the 
 earth. 
 
 It was not unknown to the wise and 
 venerable enactors of the Declaration, that 
 their signatures to such an instrument 
 would be regarded in England as an act 
 of treason, rendering them liable to the 
 halter or the block. In the full apprecia- 
 tion of all this, every man of them placed 
 his name upon the immortal parchment. 
 The only signature which indicates a 
 
 trembling hand, is that of Stephen Hop- 
 kins, but this was owing to a nervous 
 affection ; for, so resolute was ho in con- 
 gress, that, when some of the members 
 suggested a hope of reconciliation, Mr. 
 Hopkins replied, that " the time had come 
 when the strongest arm and the longest 
 sword must decide the contest, and those 
 members who were not prepared for action 
 had better go home." The boldest signa- 
 ture is that of John Hancock, he whom 
 the British had excepted in their offers of 
 pardon, as one " whose offenses are of too 
 flagitious a nature to admit of any other 
 consideration but that of condign punish- 
 ment." The number who signed the Dec- 
 laration was fifty-six; and the average 
 length of their lives was about sixty-five 
 years. Carpenters'Hall or Independence 
 Hall in Philadelphia, where these tre- 
 mendous scenes transpired, is still one of 
 the places which every American looks 
 upon with patriotic pride; for within that 
 temple was born a Nation, in whose des- 
 tiny were wrapped the interests of Liberty 
 and Civilization to the end of time. 
 
II.' 
 
 FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 1779. 
 
 John Paul Jones, Commanding the Bon Homme Richard, Fights and Captures King George's Powei 
 ful Ship-of-war, the Serapis, in British Waters. Crowds of Spectators Line the English Coast. The 
 Most Sanguinary Battle Ever Fought Between Single Ships. Jones is Hailed as "The Washington 
 of the Seas." World-wide Interest of this Combat. Commodore Jones's Early Career. Offers his 
 Services to Congress. Appointed a Naval Lieutenant. Joins the Continental Fleet. The First tn 
 Hoist its Ensign. Style and Motto of the Flag. Sails from France on a Cruise. Terror Created by 
 his Movements. Characteristic Anecdotes. Two British Frigates in Sight. Jones Ready for Bloody 
 Work. The Ships Muzzle to Muzzle. Superiority of the Serapis. A Most Deadly Contest. Both 
 Vessels on Fire. Jones Attacked by Another Foe. One of his Vessels Treacherous. Remarkable 
 Scenes. Britain's Flag Struck to America. An Act Without Precedent. Sinking of the Victori- 
 ous Vessel. 
 
 " The most obstinate and bloody battle in the annals of naval warfare." J. FKNIMOKK COOPER. 
 
 ITCH an exploit as tliat performed by John Paul Jones, in 1779, 
 by which, in plain sight of the English coast, he flung to the breeze 
 the gallant ensign of the United States, and, with Britons as wit- 
 nesses of his daring, fought, victoriously, a battle which has always 
 been spoken of as the most obstinate and sanguinary combat that 
 ever occurred between single ships, can never be read of by Ameri- 
 cans with other than the deepest and most enthusiastic interest. The 
 victory came, too, at one of the darkest hours in the revolutionary cam 
 paign, and served to gladden and encourage, for the time being, the de 
 spondent hearts of honest patriots. The vaunted invincibleness of the 
 British navy became a by-word of contumely, the world over, from the 
 time Jones nailed his flag to the mast, and, under the calm 
 sky and round harvest moon of September, dealt forth a storrr 
 of death and desolation upon the enemies of his adopted coun- 
 try. The action may well be pronounced one of the most 
 terrible on record, from its unusual duration for a naval bat- 
 tle, from the ferocity which the combatants displayed, anil 
 from the proximity of the two vessels, the muzzles of the 
 ships' batteries almost reaching into each other's port-holes 
 John Paul was born in Scotland, on the sixth day of 
 July, 1747, and the scenery and associations of his birth- 
 place Arbigland and its vicinity, doubtless encouraged 
 that restless spirit of adventure and love of change, as 
 well as that ardent enthusiasm in the objects of his pur- 
 suit, which so strikingly characterized his career through life. 
 At the age of twelve, he was apprenticed to a merchant 
 HOISTING FIRST NAVAL FLAG, of Whitchaven. who carried on a considerable trade with 
 
FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 33 
 
 the American colonies. His first voyage 
 was made before he was thirteen years old, 
 being to Virginia, where his elder brother 
 was established as a planter. He was after- 
 ward engaged for a short time in the slave 
 trade, which he left in disgust, and made a 
 number of voyages to the West Indies. 
 
 In 1773, John Paul removed to Virginia, 
 to attend to the affairs of his brother, who 
 had died childless and intestate. He now, 
 for some unknown reason, assumed the ad- 
 ditional surname of Jones, and which he 
 retained through life. At the commence- 
 ment of the revolutionary conflict, his feel- 
 ings became warmly enlisted in the cause 
 of the colonies, and this spirit fully pre- 
 pared him for the active part he soon un- 
 dertook in their behalf. An offer of his 
 services, which he made to the colonies, 
 was accepted, and, on the twenty-second 
 of December, 1775, by a resolution of con- 
 gress, he was appointed lieutenant in the 
 American navy. 
 
 It was Lieutenant Jones who hoisted, 
 with his own hands, the first American 
 naval flag on board the American frigate 
 Alfred, the flag-ship, the national ensign 
 being thus for the first time displayed from 
 a man-of-war. The circumstances attend- 
 ing this interesting occasion are stated to 
 have been as follows : The Alfred was an- 
 chored off the foot of Walnut street, Phila- 
 delphia. On a brilliant morning, early in 
 February, 1776, gay streamers were seen 
 fluttering from every mast-head and spar 
 on the river Delaware. At nine o'clock, a 
 full-manned barge thridded its way among 
 the floating ice to the Alfred, bearing the 
 commodore. He was greeted by the thun- 
 ders of artillery and the shouts of a multi- 
 tude. When he reached the deck of the 
 flag-ship, Captain Salstonstall gave a sig- 
 nal, and Lieutenant Jones gallantly pulled 
 the ropes which wafted the new flag mast- 
 head high. It was of yellow silk, bearing 
 the figure of a pine tree, and the signifi- 
 cant device of a rattlesnake in a field of 
 thirteen stripes, with the ominous legend, 
 "Don't tread on met" This memorable 
 act, it was Jones's high honor and privilege 
 to perform when in his twenty-ninth year; 
 
 an honor, too, of which, as events attervrard 
 proved, he was fully worthy. 
 
 On the fourteenth of August, 1779, Jones 
 sailed from the roadstead of Groix, France, 
 in command of a small squadron, consisting 
 of the Bon Homme Richard, forty-two guns, 
 the Alliance, thirty-six guns, the Pallas, 
 thirty-two guns, the Cerf, twenty-eight 
 guns, and the Vengeance, twelve guns. 
 Two privateers afterwards joined them, but 
 did not continue with them till the end of 
 the cruise. The efficiency of the expedi- 
 tion was marred by a want of subordination 
 on the part of some of the officers, who do 
 not appear to have been willing to yield 
 prompt obedience to orders. Captain Lan- 
 dais, of the Alliance, habitually disregarded 
 the signals and orders, throughout the 
 cruise, and, towards the close, committed 
 acts of open hostility to his superior. But, 
 notwithstanding the difficulties against 
 which he had to contend, Jones inflicted 
 great damage on the enemy; he coasted 
 Ireland, England, and Scotland, making 
 many prizes, and carrying terror wherever 
 he appeared. 
 
 But the action which gave the most dis- 
 tinguishing renown to Jones's brilliant ca- 
 reer, and which so early gave prestige to 
 American prowess on the ocean, is that of 
 which a detailed account is given below : 
 
 It was about noon, on the twenty-third 
 of September, 1779, a fleet of over forty 
 sail appeared off Flamborough Head, on 
 the coast of Yorkshire, and Jones at once 
 gave up the pursuit of a vessel in whose 
 track he was just then following, with all 
 possible speed, and made signals for a gen- 
 eral chase. The sails in sight were a fleet 
 of English merchantmen, under convoy of 
 tha ships-of-war Serapis and Scarborough, 
 and as soon as they saw themselves pur- 
 sued they ran in shore, while their convoys 
 that protected them bore off from the land 
 and prepared for an engagement. The 
 Bon Homme Richard set every stitch of 
 canvas, but did not come into fighting po- 
 sition toward the enemy until about seven 
 o'clock in the evening, at which time, from 
 the darkness having set in somewhat, ob- 
 jects on the water were dimly discerned, 
 
FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 though no*: with such difficulty as would 
 have been the case had not the moon 
 shone forth with great brightness, and the 
 weather proved serene and beautiful. 
 When within pistol-shot, the hail from the 
 Serapis, " What ship is that ? " was 
 answered, "I can't hear you." Captain 
 Pearson says the answer was, " The Prin- 
 cess Royal." A second hail was answered 
 by a thundering broadside from the bat- 
 teries of the Richard, a signal that in- 
 dicated a hot and bloody encounter at 
 hand, as the sequel soon proved. 
 
 The American ship, it may here be re- 
 marked, was much inferior to her antag- 
 onist, being, in fact, an old vessel, clumsy, 
 and unmanageable. She carried six 
 eighteen-pounders on the lower gun deck, 
 fourteen twelve-pounders and fourteen , 
 nine-pounders on the middle gun deck, 
 two six-pounders on the quarter-gun 
 deck, two six-pounders on the spar deck, 
 one six-pounder in each gangway, and two 
 six-pounders on the forecastle. She was 
 manned by three hundred and eighty 
 men and boys. The Serapis, on the other 
 hand, was a new ship, built in the best 
 manner, and with a much heavier arma- 
 ment. She mounted twenty eighteen- 
 pounders on her jower gun deck, twen'y 
 nine-pounders on her upper gun deck, six 
 six-pounders on her quarter deck, four 
 six-pounders on the forecastle ; and she 
 had a crew of some three hundred and 
 twenty men. 
 
 Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas, en- 
 gaged the Scarborough, and took her, after 
 \n hour's action, while the Bon Homme 
 Richard engaged the Serapis. 
 
 In the earlier part of the action, the 
 superior sailing qualities of the Serapis 
 enabled her to take several advantageous 
 positions, which the seamanship of Paul 
 Jones, hampered by the unmanageable 
 character of his craft, did not enable him 
 to prevent. Thus he attempted to lay his 
 ship athwart the enemy's bows, but the 
 bowsprit of the Serapis sweeping ovef the 
 Richard's poop, was grappled and lashed, 
 and her stern swung round to the bow of the 
 Bon Homme Richard by the action of the 
 
 wind ; the vessels lay yard-arm and yard- 
 arm, the muzzles on either side actually 
 touching the enemy. But long before this, 
 many of the eighteen-pound shot of the 
 Serapis had entered the Richard's hull be- 
 low the water-mark, and she leaked in a. 
 threatening manner. Just before they 
 closed, Commodore Pearson hailed his ad- 
 versary : " Has your ship struck ? " " 1 
 haven't begun to fiyht yet ! " thundered 
 forth the brave Jones, in reply. 
 
 A novelty in naval combats ./as now 
 presented to many witnesses, but few ad- 
 mirers, says Lieutenant Dale, who par- 
 ticipated in the conflict, the rammers 
 being run into the respective ships to en- 
 able the men to load after the lower ports 
 of the Serapis had been blown away, to 
 
 make room for runmng out their guns, 
 and in this situation the ships remained 
 until between ten and twelve o'clock, 
 P. M. From the commencement to the 
 termination of the action, there was not a 
 man on board the Richard who was igno- 
 rant of the superiority of the Serapis, both 
 in weight of metal, and in the qualities of 
 the crew. The crew of that ship were 
 picked seamen, and the ship itself had 
 been only a few months off the stocks; 
 whereas the crew of the Richard consisted 
 of part Americans, English and French, 
 and a part of Maltese, Portuguese, and Ma- 
 lays, these latter contributing by their 
 want of naval skill and knowledge of the 
 English language, to depress rather tliuu 
 encourage any reasonable hope of success 
 in a combat under such circumstance*. 
 
FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 35 
 
36 
 
 FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 One of the most disheartening facts in 
 the early part of the action, was the silenc- 
 ing of the battery of twelve-pounders, on 
 which Jones had placed his principal de- 
 pendence. 
 
 Brave and dauntless sailor as he was, 
 Jones stuck to his little battery, and stimu- 
 lated his men with word and example. 
 While one of the nine-pounders vomited 
 double-headed shot against the mainmast 
 of the Serapis, the two others swept her 
 decks with grape and canister. The fire 
 was so hot from the nine-pound battery and 
 the tops, that not a man could live on the 
 deck of the English ship. But all this 
 while, her lower battery of eighteen-pound- 
 ers was making an awful ruin of the Rich- 
 ard. The terror of the scene was also soon 
 heightened beyond the power of language 
 to depict, by both vessels taking fire, which 
 required almost superhuman exertion to 
 subdue, and, in the midst of all, Jones and 
 his heroic men were horror stricken to see 
 their consort, the Alliance, commanded by 
 Captain Landais, come up and pour a full 
 broadside into the Richard's stern ! The 
 evidence is regarded as most conclusive, 
 that Captain L.'s conduct on this occasion 
 was not due to any mistake on his part in 
 supposing the Richard to be the Serapis, 
 but to his personal hostility to Jones. 
 With jealousy and treason in his heart, his 
 plan was to kill Jones, and, capturing the 
 Serapis, claim the victory as his. But the 
 black-hearted Frenchman failed in his plot. 
 A quantity of cartridges on board the Ser- 
 apis was set fire to by a grenade from 
 Jones's ship, and blew up, killing or wound- 
 ing all the officers and men abaft the main- 
 mast. But long after this the fight went 
 on with fury. 
 
 At last, the mainmast of the Serapis be- 
 gan to totter to its fall her fire slackened, 
 and, about half-past ten o'clock, the British 
 flag was struck, and Commodore Pearson 
 surrendered his sword to his really weaker 
 foe. In going through the formalities of 
 this scene, Pearson displayed much irrita- 
 bility, and, addressing Jones as one who 
 bought under no recognized flag, said: 
 
 " It is painful to deliver up my sword to 
 
 a man who has fought with a halter around 
 his neck." 
 
 " Sir," replied Jones, good humoredly, 
 as he handed back the weapon, "you have 
 fought like a hero, and I make no doubt 
 but your sovereign will reward you in the 
 most ample manner." 
 
 True enough, the gallant Pearson soon 
 received from King George the dignity of 
 knighthood as an acknowledgment of his 
 bravery in this unparalleled battle, hear- 
 ing of which honor, Jones is said to have 
 dryly remarked : " Well, he deserved it ; 
 and should I have the good fortune to 
 meet with him again, I will make a lord 
 of him!" 
 
 Another episode occurred in connection 
 with a medical officer, the surgeon of the 
 Richard, who ran up from the cock-pit, 
 in great fright and trepidation, and hur- 
 riedly accosting the captain, said : "Are you 
 not going to strike the colors ? Is not the 
 ship fast sinking ? " " What ! doctor," re- 
 plied Jones, " would you have me strike to 
 a drop of water ? Here, help me get this 
 gun over ! " The doctor, as though answer- 
 ing a sudden professional call, was soon 
 retracing his steps to the cock-pit. 
 
 So terribly was the Richard cut to pieces 
 (being an old ship), that it was found im- 
 possible, after the fight, to get her into 
 port, and, the wounded being removed, she 
 soon after sank. 
 
 Jones took his prizes to Holland, and it 
 is no exaggeration to say that the whole 
 world stood astonished at his bravery and 
 success. 
 
 A most interesting account of this cele- 
 brated battle between the Serapis and 
 Richard was given, soon after its occur- 
 rence, by Commodore Jones himself, a 
 portion of which, describing in his own 
 dramatic style, the principal scenes during 
 the engagement, is given below: 
 
 On the morning of that day, September 
 twenty-third, the brig from Holland not be- 
 ing in sight, we chased abrigantine that ap- 
 peared laying to, to windward. About 
 noon, we saw and chased a large ship that 
 appeared coming round Flamborough Head 
 from the northward, and at the same time 
 
FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 I manned and armed one of the pilot boats 
 to send in pursuit of the hrigantine, which 
 now appeared to be the vessel that I had 
 forced ashore. Soon after this, a fleet of 
 forty-one sail appeared off Flamborongh 
 Head, bearing N. N. E. This induced me 
 to abandon the single ship which had then 
 anchored in Burlington Bay ; I also called 
 back the pilot boat, and hoisted a signal 
 for a general chase. When the fleet dis- 
 covered us bearing down, all the merchant 
 ships crowded sail toward the shore. The 
 two ships-of-war that protected the fleet at 
 the same time steered from the land, and 
 made the disposition for battle. In ap- 
 proaching the enemy, I crowded every pos- 
 siUe sail, and made the signal for the line 
 of battle, to which the Alliance paid no at- 
 tention. Earnest as I was for the action, 
 I could not reach the commodore's ship 
 until seven in the evening, being then 
 within pistol-shot, when he hailed the Bon 
 Homnie Richard. We answered him by 
 firing a whole broadside. 
 
 The battle being thus begun, was con- 
 tinued with unremitting fury. Every 
 method was practiced on both sides to gain 
 an advantage and rake each other ; and I 
 must confess that the enemy's ship, being 
 much more manageable than the Bon 
 Homme Richard, gained thereby several 
 times an advantageous situation, in spite 
 of my best endeavors to prevent it. As I 
 had to deal with an enemy of greatly su- 
 perior force, I was under the necessity of 
 closing with him, to prevent the advantage 
 which he had over me in point of ma- 
 neuver. It was my intention to lay the 
 Bon Homme Richard athwart the enemy's 
 bow ; but as that operation required great 
 dexterity in the management of both sails 
 and helm, and some of our braces being 
 shot away, it did not exactly succeed to my 
 wish. The enemy's bowsprit, however, 
 came over the Bon Homme Richard's poop, 
 by the mizzenmast, and I made both ships 
 fast together in that situation, which by 
 the action of the wind on the enemy's sails, 
 forced her stern close to the Bon Homme 
 Richard's bow, so that the ships lay square 
 alongside of each other, the yards being 
 
 all entangled, and the canuon of each ship 
 touching the opponent's. 
 
 I directed the fire of one of the three 
 cannon against the mainmast, with dou- 
 ble-headed shot, while the other two were 
 exceedingly well served with grape and 
 canister shot, to silence the enemy's mus- 
 ketry and clear her decks, which was at 
 last effected. The enemy were, as I have 
 since understood, on the instant of calling 
 for quarter, when the cowardice or treach- 
 ery of three of my under-officers induced 
 them to call to the enemy. The English 
 commodore asked me if I demanded quar- 
 ter, and I, having answered him in the 
 most determined negative, they renewed 
 the battle with double fury. They were 
 unable to stand the deck ; but the fire of 
 their cannon, especially the lower battery, 
 which was entirely formed of ten-pound- 
 ers, was incessant ; both ships were set on 
 fire in various places, and the scene was 
 dreadful beyond the reach of language. 
 To account for the timidity of my three 
 under-officers, I mean the gunner, the car- 
 penter, and the master-at-arms, I must 
 observe, that the two first were slightly 
 wounded, and, as the ship had received 
 various shots under the water, and one of 
 the pumps being shot away, the carpenter 
 expressed his fears that she would sink, 
 and the other two concluded that she was 
 sinking, which occasioned the gunner to 
 run aft on the poop, without my knowl- 
 edge, to strike the colors. Fortunately for 
 me, a cannon-ball had done that before, by 
 carrying away the ensign-staff; he was 
 therefore reduced to the necessity of sink- 
 ing, as he supposed, or of calling for quar- 
 ter, and he preferred the latter. 
 
 All this time the Bon Homme Richard 
 had sustained the action alone, and the 
 enemy, though much superior in force, 
 would have been very glad to have got 
 clear, as appears by their own acknowledg- 
 ments, and by their having let go an an- 
 chor the instant that I laid them on board, 
 by which means they would have escaped, 
 had I not made them fast to the Bon 
 Homme Richard. 
 
 At last, at half-past nine o'clock, the Al> 
 
38 
 
 FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 
 
 liance appeared, and I now thought the 
 battle at an end ; but, to my utter aston- 
 ishment, he discharged a broadside full 
 into the stern of the Bon Homme Richard. 
 We called to him for God's sake to forbear 
 firing into the Bon Homme Richard; yet 
 they passed along the off side of the ship, 
 and continued firing. There was no pos- 
 sibility of his mistaking the enemy's ship 
 for the Bon Homme Richard, there being 
 the most essential difference in their ap- 
 pearance and construction. Besides, it was 
 then full moonlight. The Bon Homme 
 Richard received various shots under wa- 
 ter from the Alliance ; the leak gained on 
 the pumps, and the fire increased much on 
 board both ships. Some officers persuaded 
 
 me to strike, of whose courage and good 
 sense I entertain a high opinion. My 
 treacherous master-at-arms let loose all my 
 prisoners without my knowledge, and my 
 prospects became gloomy indeed. I would 
 not, however, give up the point. The ene- 
 my's mainmast began to shake, their firing 
 decreased fast, ours rather increased, and 
 the British colors were struck at half an 
 hour past ten o'clock. 
 
 This prize proved to be the British ship- 
 of-war, the Serapis, a new ship of forty- 
 four guns, built on the most approved con- 
 struction, with two complete batteries, one 
 of them of eighteen-pounders, and com- 
 manded by the brave Commodore Richard 
 Pearson. 
 
THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 39 
 
III. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 1780. 
 
 The Northern States wrapt in a Dense Black Atmosphere for Fifteen Hours. The Day of Judgment 
 Supposed to have Come. Cessation of Labor. Religious Devotions Resorted to. The Herds 
 Retire to their Stalls, the Fowls to their Roosts, and the Birds Sing their Evening Songs at Noonday. 
 Science at Loss to Account for the Mysterious Phenomenon. One of Nature's Marvels. Redness of 
 the Sun and Moon. Approach of a Thick Vapor. Loud Peals of Thunder. Sudden and Strange 
 Darkness. Alarm of the Inhabitants. End of the World Looked For. Dismay of the Brute Crea- 
 tion. An Intensely Deep Gloom. Difficulty in Attending to Business. Lights Burning in the 
 Houses. Vast Extent of the Occurrence. Condition of the Barometer. Change in the Color of 
 Objects. Quick Motion of the Clouds. Birds Suffocate and Die. The Sun's Disc Seen in Some 
 Places. Oily Deposit on the Waters. Impenetrable Darkness at Night. Incidents and Anecdotes. 
 Ignorant Whims and Conjectures. An Unsolved Mystery. 
 
 " The Dark Day in northern America was one of those wonderful phenomena of nature which will always be read of with interest, but 
 which philosophy' is at a loss to explain." HBRSCHKL. 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF TRAVELING. 
 
 LMOST, if not altogether alone, as the most 
 mysterious and as yet unexplained phenome- 
 non of its kind, in nature's diversified range of 
 events, during the last century, stands the 
 Dark Day of May Nineteenth, 1780, a most 
 unaccountable darkening of the whole visible 
 heavens and atmosphere in New England, 
 which brought intense alarm and distress to 
 multitudes of minds, as well as dismay to the 
 brute creation, the fowls fleeing, bewildered, to 
 their roosts, and the birds to their nests, and 
 the cattle returning to their stalls. Indeed, 
 thousands of the good people of that day be- 
 came fully convinced that the end of all things 
 terrestrial had come ; many gave up, for the 
 time, their secular pursuits, and betook them- 
 selves to religious devotions ; while many others regarded 
 the darkness as not only a token of God's indignation 
 against the various iniquities and abominations of the age 
 but also as an omen of some future destruction that might 
 overwhelm the land as in the case of the countries men- 
 tioned in biblical history, unless speedy repentance at>d 
 
THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 41 
 
 reformation took place. The ignorant in- 
 dulged in vague and wild conjectures as 
 to the cause of the phenomenon; and 
 those profounder minds, even, that could 
 "gauge the heavens and tell the stars," 
 were about equally at loss for any rational 
 explanation of the event. It is related 
 that the Connecticut legislature was in 
 session at this time, and that, so great was 
 the darkness, the members became terri- 
 fied, and thought that the day of judg- 
 ment had come ; a motion was conse- 
 quently made to adjourn. At this, Mr. 
 Davenport arose and said: "Mr. Speaker, 
 It is either the day of judgment, or it 
 is not. If it is not, there is no need of 
 adjourning. If it is, I desire to be found 
 doing my duty. I move that candles be 
 brought, and that we proceed to business." 
 The time of the commencement of this 
 extraordinary darkness was between the 
 hours of ten and eleven in the forenoon of 
 Friday, of the date already named; and it 
 continued until the middle of the follow- 
 ing night, but with different appearances 
 at different places. As to the manner of 
 its approach, it seemed to appear first of 
 all in the south-west. The wind came 
 from that quarter, and the darkness ap- 
 peared to come on with the clouds that 
 came in that direction. The degree to 
 which the darkness arose varied in differ- 
 ent localities. In most parts, it became so 
 dense, that people were unable to read 
 common print distinctly, or accurately de- 
 termine the time of day by their clocks or 
 watches, or dine, or manage their domes- 
 tic affairs conveniently, without the light 
 of candles. In some places, the degree of 
 darkness was just about equal to prevent- 
 ing persons seeing to read ordinary print 
 in the open air, for several hours together. 
 The extent of this darkness was also very 
 remarkable. It was observed at the most 
 easterly regions of New England; west- 
 ward, to the furthest parts of Connecticut, 
 and at Albany ; to the southward, it was 
 observed all along the sea coasts ; and to 
 the north, as far as the American settle- 
 ments extended. It probably far exceeded 
 these boundaries, but the exact limits were 
 
 never positively known. With regard to 
 its duration, it continued in the neighbor- 
 hood of Boston for at least fourteen or fif- 
 teen hours ; but it was doubtless longer or 
 shorter in some other places. The appear- 
 ance and effects were such as tended to 
 make the prospect extremely dull, gloomy, 
 and unnatural. Candles were lighted up 
 in the houses; the birds, in the midst 
 of their blithesome forenoon enjoyments, 
 stopped suddenly, and, singing their even- 
 ing songs, disappeared, and became si- 
 lent; the fowls retired to their roosts; the 
 cocks were crowing in their accustomed 
 manner at the break of day; objects could 
 not be distinguished at a comparatively 
 slight distance; and everything bore the 
 aspect and gloom of night, to say noth- 
 ing of the effect upon the minds of the 
 people, which, indeed, was quite inde- 
 scribable. 
 
 The above general facts concerning this 
 strange phenomenon were ascertained, 
 after much painstaking inquiry, soon 
 after its occurrence, by Prof. Williams, of 
 Harvard College, who also collected to- 
 gether some of the more particular ob- 
 servations made in different parts of the 
 country, relative to the remarkable event. 
 From these data it appears that, with re- 
 gard to the state of the atmosphere pre- 
 ceding this uncommon darkness, it was 
 noticed in many sections, for several days 
 before, that the air seemed to be of a 
 smoky and vaporous character. The sun 
 and the moon exhibited an unusual led- 
 ness in their color, and divested of their 
 usual brightness and lucid aspect; and 
 this obscuration increased as they ap- 
 proached nearer to the horizon. This 
 was ascertained to have been the case in 
 almost all parts of the New England 
 states, for four or five days preceding the 
 nineteenth of May. The winds had been 
 variable, but chiefly from the south-west 
 and north-east. The thermometer indi- 
 cated from forty to fifty-five degrees. The 
 barometer showed a somewhat higher range 
 than usual. The weather had been fair 
 and cool for the season. 
 
 As to the state of the atmosphere when 
 
42 
 
 THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 the darkness came on, it was observable 
 that the weight or gravity of it was grad- 
 ually decreasing, the greater part of the 
 4ay. According to the observations made 
 at Cambridge, Mass., tho mercury in the 
 barometer was found, at twelve o'clock, to 
 stand at twenty-nine inches, seventy ; in 
 half an hour after, the mercury had fallen 
 the one-hundredth part of an inch ; at one 
 o'clock, it was twenty-nine inches, sixty- 
 seven ; at three o'clock, it was at twenty- 
 nine inches, sixty-five; at eight minutes 
 past eight, it was at twenty-nine inches, 
 sixty-four. A similar course of barometri- 
 cal observations made, at the same time, 
 in another part of the state, showed as fol- 
 lows : at six o'clock in the morning, the 
 mercury in the barometer was found to be 
 at twenty-nine inches, eighty-two ; as soon 
 as the darkness began to appear uncom- 
 mon, that is, at ten minutes past ten, the 
 mercury was found at twenty-nine inches, 
 sixty-eight ; at quarter before eleven the 
 time of the greatest degree of darkness in 
 that part of the country the mercury was 
 at twenty-nine inches, sixty-seven, the 
 darkness continuing in the same degree 
 for an hour and a half ; at fifteen minutes 
 past twelve, the mercury had fallen to 
 twenty-nine inches, sixty-five, and, in a 
 few minutes after this, the darkness began 
 to abate ; the mercury remained in this 
 state during the whole evening, without 
 any sensible alteration. At half-past 
 eight, it seemed to have fallen a little, but 
 so small was the alteration, that it was at- 
 tended with some uncertainty, nor did it 
 appear to stand any lower three hours 
 later. 
 
 From these observations, it is certain 
 that, on the day when the darkness took 
 place, the weight or gravity of the atmos- 
 phere was gradually decreasing through 
 the whole day. Both of the barometers 
 in use were instruments of superior work- 
 manship, and consequently to be depended 
 on as to the accuracy of their indications. 
 
 The color of objects that day, is another 
 point of interest. It is mentioned, in the 
 record of observations made with reference 
 to this feature of the phenomenon, that 
 
 the complexion of the clouds was com- 
 pounded of a faint red, 3 r ellou' and brown, 
 that, during the darkness, objects which 
 commonly appear green, were of the deep- 
 est green, verging to blue, and that those 
 which appear white, were highly tinged 
 with yellow. This was the character of 
 the observations, as given by almost every 
 one who made any record of the day's ap- 
 pearance. But Prof. Williams states that, 
 to him, almost every object appeared tinged 
 with yellow, rather than with any other 
 color; and this, whether the thing wa? 
 near, or remote from the eye. 
 
 Another element of peculiarity, in this 
 remarkable scene, was the nature and ap- 
 pearance of the vapors that were then in 
 the atmosphere. Early in the morning, 
 the weather was cloudy ; the sun was but 
 just visible through the clouds, and ap- 
 peared of a deep red, as it had for several 
 days before. In most places thunder was 
 heard a number of times in the morning. 
 The clouds soon began to rise from the 
 south-west, with a gentle breeze, and there 
 were several small showers before eight 
 o'clock ; in some places there were showers 
 at other hours, throughout the day. The 
 water that fell was found to have an un- 
 usual character, being thick, dark, and 
 sooty. One observer, in tho eastern part 
 of Massachusetts, states, in this connec- 
 tion, that the strange appearance and 
 smell of the rain-water which people had 
 saved in tubs, was the subject of universal 
 and wondering remark. On examining 
 tho water, there was found a light scum 
 upon it, which, on being rubbed between 
 the thumb and finger, seemed to resemble 
 the black ashes of burnt leaves ; the water 
 also gave the same strong, sooty smell, 
 which characterized the air. A similar 
 appearance, in this respect, manifested 
 itself in other localities ; it was especially 
 exhibited on the Merrimac river, large 
 quantities of black scum being seen float- 
 ing upon the surface of that stream, dur- 
 ing the day. In the night, the wind 
 veered round to the north-east, and drove 
 this substance towards the south shore ; 
 when the tide fell, the matter lay for 
 
THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 43 
 
 many miles along the shore, the width of 
 the deposit being some four or five inches. 
 An examination of a considerable quantity 
 of this substance, in several places, failed 
 to show anything of a sulphurous nature, 
 either in its taste, color, or smell. Prof. 
 Williams states that, being apprehensive 
 as to whether there was not some uncom- 
 mon ingredient in the air that day, he put 
 out several sheets of clean paper in the air 
 and rain. When they had been out four or 
 five hours, he dried them by the fire. They 
 were much sulued, and became dark in 
 their color, and felt as if they had been 
 rubbed with oil or grease ; but, upon burn- 
 ing them, there could not be detected any 
 sulphurous or nitrous particles. 
 
 The motion and situation of the cur- 
 rents or bodies of vapor in the atmosphere 
 likewise exhibited some striking peculiar- 
 ities. In most places, it was very evident 
 that the vapors were descending from the 
 higher parts of the atmosphere towards 
 the surface of the earth. A gentleman 
 who made some special observations bear- 
 ing upon this point, mentions a very curi- 
 ous circumstance, as to their ascent and 
 situation, namely, that at about nine 
 o'clock in the morning, after a shower, 
 the vapors rose from the springs in the 
 low lands, in great abundance. Notice 
 was taken of one large column that as- 
 cended, with great rapidity, to a consid- 
 erable height above the highest hills, and 
 soon spread into a large cloud, then moved 
 off a little to the westward. A second 
 cloud was formed in the same manner, 
 from the same springs, but did not ascend 
 BO high as the first; and a third was 
 formed from the same places, in less than 
 a quarter of an hour after the second. 
 About three-quarters of an hour after 
 nine o'clock, these clouds exhibited a very 
 striking appearance. The upper cloud 
 wore a peculiar reddish hue ; the second 
 showed in some places or parts a green, in 
 others a blue, and in others an indigo 
 color ; while the surface of the third cloud 
 was almost white. 
 
 Of a somewhat singular nature, also, is 
 the fact, as related by another, that, while 
 
 tlie darkness continued, the clouds were in 
 quick motion, interrupted, skirted one over 
 another, so as to form at least to the eye 
 of the beholder a considerable number of 
 strata, the lower stratum being of an uni- 
 form height as far as visible ; but this height 
 was conceived to be very slight, from the 
 small extent of the horizon that could be 
 seen, and from this circumstance observed 
 in the evening. A lighted torch, hold by 
 a person passing along the street, occa- 
 sioned a reflection of a faint red or copper- 
 tinged light similar to a faint aurora 
 borealis, the apparent height at which 
 the reflection was made, being some twenty 
 to thirty feet. And it was generally re- 
 marked, that the hills might be seen at a 
 distance in some directions, while the in- 
 termediate spaces were greatly obscured 
 or darkened. 
 
 It would thus appear, from the state- 
 ments now cited, as if the vapors, in some 
 places, were ascending ; in most, descend- 
 ing ; and, in all, very near to the surface 
 of the earth. To this it may be added, 
 that, during the darkness, objects seem- 
 ingly cast a shade in every direction, and, 
 in many instances, there were various 
 appearances or corruscations in the atmos- 
 phere, not unlike the aurora borealis, 
 though it is not stated that any uncom- 
 mon exhibitions of the electric fire were 
 witnessed during the day. In some ac- 
 counts, however, it is mentioned that a 
 number of small birds were found suffo- 
 cated by the vapor ; some were found dead, 
 and some flew affrighted, or stupefied, into 
 the houses. 
 
 In New Haven, Conn., there was a 
 shower of rain, with some lightning and 
 thunder, about daybreak in the morning, 
 the rain continuing, with intervals, until 
 after sunrise. The morning was cloudy 
 and darkish ; and the sun, rising towards 
 the zenith, gave no increase of light, as 
 usual, but, on the contrary, the darkness 
 continued to increase until between eleven 
 and twelve o'clock, at which time there 
 was the greatest obscurity in that place. 
 What little motion of the air there was 
 just at this period, was nearly from the 
 
44 
 
 THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 south ; though the atmosphere was as calm 
 as the blandest summer morning. There 
 was something more of a luminous appear- 
 ance in the horizon, than in the hemi- 
 sphere in general ; also, a most marked 
 liveliness of tint to the grass and other 
 green vegetation ; and a very noticeable 
 yellowness in the atmosphere, which made 
 clean silver nearly resemble the color of 
 brass. At about twelve o'clock, noon, the 
 singular obscuration ceased; the greatest 
 darkness, at any particular time, was at 
 least as dense a what is commonly called 
 'candlelighting,' in the evening. In the 
 town of Hartford, and the neighboring 
 villages, the phenomenon was observed 
 with all its distinctive peculiarities ; and, 
 by some persons, the disc of the sun was 
 seen, at the time of the greatest deficiency 
 of light. 
 
 such buildings. At twelve, the darkness 
 was greatest, and a little rain fell ; in the 
 street, the aspect was like that at the be- 
 ginning of evening, as lights were seen 
 burning fn all the houses. The clouds 
 were thinnest at the north ; at the north- 
 east, the clouds were very thick, and so 
 low that hills could not be seen at the dis- 
 tance of half a mile ; south-westerly, hills 
 might bo clearly seen at the distance of 
 twenty miles, though the intermediate 
 space was ?o shaded that it was impossi- 
 ble to distinguish woodland from pasture. 
 At half-pa ;t twelve, the clouds, having 
 been hitherto detached, began to concen- 
 trate at such an height, that all the hills 
 became visible, and the country around 
 exhibited a most beautiful tinted verdure ; 
 at one, the clouds became uniformly 
 spread, and the darkness was not greater 
 
 CHANGE OF SCENE AFTEK THE DAKK DAY. 
 
 In Middlesex county, Mass , the peals 
 of thunder were loud and frequent at six 
 o'clock in the morning, attended with 
 heavy rain ; at seven o'clock, the rain and 
 thunder had ceased, but the sky contin- 
 ued cloudy. Between nine and ten o'clock, 
 the clouds were observed to thicken, and 
 to receive continual accessions from the 
 low lands. Before ten, the darkness had 
 sensibly increased, till it became difficult 
 to read an almanac in a room having two 
 windows ; at eleven o'clock, candles were 
 lighted, and at half -past eleven the dark- 
 ness was so great in the meeting-house, 
 where a court was then sitting, that it 
 was difficult to distinguish countenances 
 at the smallest distance, notwithstanding 
 the large number of windows usual in 
 
 than is usual on a cloudy day. The same 
 weather continued through the whole 
 afternoon, except that the sun was seen 
 for a few minutes, in some places, about 
 three o'clock. At eight in the evening, 
 the darkness was so impenetrably thick, 
 as to render traveling positively imprac- 
 ticable ; and, although the moon rose 
 nearly full about nine o'clock, yet it did 
 not give light enough to enable a person 
 to distinguish between the heavens and 
 the earth. 
 
 In the account of this phenomenon given 
 by Dr. Tenney, of New Hampshire, an in- 
 telligent observer and writer, are some 
 interesting details, gathered by him while 
 on a journey to Pennsylvania, from the 
 east. He repeats and confirms the state- 
 
THE WONDERFUL DAEK DAY. 
 
 45 
 
 ment made by others, that, previously to 
 the commencement of the darkness, the 
 sky was overcast with the common .kind 
 of clouds, from which there was, in some 
 places, a moderate fall of rain. Between 
 tlie.se and the earth, there intervened an- 
 other stratum, apparently of great thick- 
 ness ; as this stratum advanced, the dark- 
 ness commenced, and increased with its 
 progress till it came to its height, which 
 did not take place till the hemisphere 
 was a second time overspread the uncom- 
 mon thickness of this second stratum bo- 
 ing probably occasioned by two strong cur- 
 rents of wind from the southward and 
 westward, condensing the vapors and 
 drawing them to the north-east. 
 
 The result of Dr. Tenney's journey, 
 during which he made the best use of his 
 opportunities for information, was, that 
 the darkness appeared to be most gross in 
 Essex county, Massachusetts, the lower 
 part of the state of New Hampshire, and 
 in portions of what was then the province 
 of Maine. In Rhode Island and Connect- 
 icut it was not so great, and still less in 
 New York; in New Jersey, the second 
 stratum of clouds was observed, but it was 
 not of any great thickness, nor was the 
 darkness very uncommon ; in the lower 
 parts of Pennsylvania, no extraordinary 
 scene was noticed. 
 
 Through the whole extent of country 
 referred to, the lower cloud-stratum had 
 an uncommon brassy hue, while the earth 
 and trees were adorned with so enchant- 
 ing a verdure as could not escape notice, 
 even amidst the unusual atmospheric 
 gloom that accompanied it. The dark- 
 ness of the following evening was proba- 
 bly as denp and dense as ever had been ob- 
 served since the Almighty fiat gave birth 
 to light ; it wanted only palpability to ren- 
 der it as extraordinary as that which over- 
 spread the land of Egypt, in the days of 
 Moses. If every luminous body in the 
 universe had been shrouded in impenetra- 
 ble shades, or struck out of existence, it 
 was thought the darkness could not have 
 been more complete. A sheet of whit's 
 paper, held within a few inches of the 
 
 eyes, was equally invisible with the black- 
 est velvet. And, considering the small 
 quantity of light that was transmitted 
 by the clouds, during the day, it is not 
 surprising that, at night, a sufficient quan- 
 tity of rays should not be able to penetrate 
 the same strata, brougl-J back by tha shift- 
 ing of the winds, to afford the most ob- 
 scure prospect even of the best reflecting 
 bodies. The deiiseness of this evening 
 darkness was a fact universally observed 
 and recorded. 
 
 In view of all the information contained 
 in the various accounts of this day, it ap- 
 pears very certain that the atmosphere 
 was charged with an unprecedented quan- 
 tity of vapor, from what primary cause 
 has never been satisfactorily determined; 
 and as the weather had been clear, the air 
 heavy, and the winds small and variable 
 for many days, the vapors, instead of dis- 
 persing, must have been constantly rising 
 and collecting in the air, until the atmos- 
 phere became highly charged with them. 
 
 A large quantity of the vapors, thus 
 collected in the atmosphere, on the day in 
 question, was floating near the surface of 
 the earth. Wheresoever the specific grav- 
 ity of any vapor is less than the specific 
 gravity of the air, such a vapor will, by 
 the law of fluids, ascend in the air; where 
 the specific gravity of a vapor, in the at- 
 mosphere, is greater than that of the air, 
 sucli a vapor will descend ; and where the 
 specific gravity of the vapor and air are 
 the same, the vapor will then be at rest, 
 floating or swimming in the atmosphere, 
 without ascending or descending. From 
 the barometrical observations, it appears 
 that the weight or gravity of the atmos- 
 phere was gradually growing less, from 
 the morning of the nineteenth of May, 
 until the evening; and hence the vapors, 
 in most places, were descending from the 
 higher parts of the atmosphere, toward* 
 the surface of the earth. According to 
 one of the observations cited, the vapors 
 were noticed to a cend, until they rose to 
 a height where the air was of the same 
 specific gravity a height not much above 
 the adjacent hills, and here they in- 
 
46 
 
 THE WONDERFUL DARK DAY. 
 
 stantly spread, and floated in the atmos- 
 phere. From these data, the conclusion 
 is drawn, that the place where the vapors 
 were balanced must have been very near 
 the surface of the earth. 
 
 Reasoning from the premises thus set 
 forth, Prof. Williams was of the opinion 
 that such a large quantity of vapor, float- 
 ing in the atmosphere, near the earth's 
 surface, might be sufficient to produce all 
 the phenomena that made the nineteenth 
 of May, 1780, so memorable. Thus, the 
 direction in which the darkness came on 
 would be determined by the direction of 
 the wind, and this was known to be from 
 the south-west; the degree of the dark- 
 ness would depend on the density, color, 
 and situation of the clouds and vapor, and 
 the manner in which they would transmit, 
 refl< ct, refract, or absorb the rays of light; 
 the extent of the darkness would be as 
 great as the extent of the vapor ; and the 
 duration of it would continue until the 
 gravity of the air became so altered that 
 the vapors would change their situation, 
 by an ascent or descent; all of which 
 particulars, it is claimed, agree with the 
 observations that have been mentioned. 
 Nor does the effect of the vapors, in dark- 
 ening terrestrial objects, when they lay 
 near the surface of the earth, appear to 
 have been greater than it was in darken- 
 ing the sun and moon, when their situa- 
 tion was higher in the atmosphere. 
 
 It being thus evident that the atmos- 
 pnere was, from some peculiar cause (per- 
 haps great fires in distant woods) charged, 
 in a high degree, with vapors, and that 
 these vapors were of different densities 
 and occupied different heights, the de- 
 Auction is, that by this means the rays of 
 light falling on them must have suffered a 
 variety of refractions and reflections, and 
 thereby become weakened, absorbed, or so 
 reflected, as not to fall upon objects on the 
 earth in the usual manner; and as the 
 different vapors were adapted by their 
 nature, situation, or density, to absorb or 
 transmit the different kind of rays, so the 
 co'.ori of objects would appear to be af- 
 fected by the mixture or prevalency of 
 
 those rays which were transmitted through 
 so uncommon a medium. This was the 
 explanation suggested by Prof. Williams, 
 though not to the exclusion of other the- 
 ories. 
 
 But there were not wanting those and 
 a large number they were too who gave 
 play, in their minds, to the most strange 
 opinions concerning the cause of so mar- 
 velous an appearance. It was imagined 
 by some persons, that an eclipse of the 
 sun, produced of course by an interposition 
 of the moon, was the cause of the darkness 
 others attributed it to a transit of Venus 
 or Mercury upon the disc of the sun 
 others imputed it to a blazing star, which 
 they thought came between the earth and 
 the sun. So whimsical, indeed, were some 
 of the opinions which possessed men's 
 minds at this time, that even so bare a 
 vagary as that a great mountain obstructed 
 the rays of the sun's light during that 
 day, obtained advocates ! Whether they 
 thought that a new mountain was created 
 and placed between the earth and the sun, 
 or that a mountain from this globe had 
 taken flight and perched upon that great 
 luminary, does not appear. 
 
 That this darkness was not caused by 
 an eclipse, is manifest by the various posi- 
 tions of the planetary bodies at that time, 
 for the moon was more than one hundred 
 and fifty degrees from the sun all that 
 day, and, according to the accurate calcu- 
 lations made by the most celebrated as- 
 tronomers, there could not, in the order of 
 nature, be any transit of the planet Venus 
 or Mercury upon the disc of the sun that 
 year ; nor could it be a blazing star much 
 less a mountain, that darkened the at- 
 mosphere, for this would still leave unex- 
 plained the deep darkness of the following 
 night. Nor would such excessive noc- 
 turnal darkness follow an eclipse of the 
 sun; and as to the moon, she was at that 
 time more than forty hours' motion past 
 her opposition. 
 
 One of the theories, looking to a solution 
 of the mysterious occurrence, which found 
 defenders, was as follows : The heat of the 
 sun causes an ascent of numerous particles 
 
THE WONDERFUL DAKK DAY. 
 
 47 
 
 which consist of different qualities, such as 
 aqueous, sulphurous, bituminous, salinous, 
 etc. ; heuce the waters of the seas, rivers, 
 and ponds ; the fumes of burning volca- 
 noes, caused by subterraneous veins of 
 liquid fire; all the other kinds of smoke 
 fat, combustibles, oily matter from various 
 kinds of earth, the juice of trees, plants 
 and herbs ; salinous and nitrous particles 
 from salt, snow water, and kindred sources ; 
 these are exhaled into the regions of the 
 air, where their positions are subject to 
 various mutations or changes by reason of 
 the motion and compression of the air, 
 causing them to bo sometimes rarefied and 
 sometimes condensed. It was (according 
 to this theory,) a vast collection of such 
 particles that caused the day of darkness ; 
 that is, the particles, after being exhaled, 
 were driven together by certain winds 
 from opposite points of the compass, and 
 condensed to such a degree by the weight 
 of the earth's atmosphere, that they ob- 
 structed the appearance of the rays of the 
 sun by day, aid those of the moon by 
 night. 
 
 Having thus presented the facts and 
 circumstances pertaining to this notable 
 day in the history of the New England or 
 northern states, it may not be amiss to 
 add, that a similar day of mysterious dark- 
 ness occurred on October 21, 1716 ; the 
 day was so dark, that people were forced 
 to light candles to dine by, a darkness 
 which could not proceed from any eclipse, 
 a solar eclipse having taken place on the 
 f.uirth of that month. There was also a 
 remarkable darkness at Detroit and vicin- 
 ity, October 19, 1762, being almost total for 
 'he greater part of the day. It was dark 
 it Jay-break, and this continued until nine 
 o'clock, when it cleared up a little, and, for 
 the space of about a quarter of an hour, 
 the body of the sun was visible, it appear- 
 ing as red as blood, and more than three 
 
 times as large as usual. The air, all this 
 time, was of a dingy yellowish color. At 
 half-past one o'clock, it was so dark as to 
 necessitate the lighting of candles, in 
 order to attend to domestic duties. At 
 about three in the afternoon, the darkness 
 became more dense, increasing in intensity 
 until half-past three, when the wind 
 breezed up from the southwest and brought 
 on a slight fall of rain, accompanied with 
 a profuse quantity of fine black particles, 
 in appearance much like sulphur, both in 
 smell and quality. A sheet of clean paper, 
 held out in this rain, was rendered quite 
 black wherever the drops fell upon it ; but, 
 when held near the fire, it turned to a yel- 
 low color, and, when burned, it fizzed on 
 the paper, like wet powder. So black did 
 these powdery particles turn everything 
 upon which they fell, that even the river 
 was covered with a black froth, which, 
 when skimmed off the surface, resembled 
 the lather of soap, with this difference, that 
 it was more greasy, and its color as black 
 as ink. At seven, in the evening, the air 
 was more clear. This phenomenon was 
 observed throughout a vast region of coun- 
 try ; and, though various conjectures were 
 indulged in, as to the cause of so extraor- 
 dinary an occurrence, the same degree of 
 mystery attaches to it as to that of 1780, 
 confounding the wisdom even of the most 
 learned philosophers and men of science. 
 
 It may easily be imagined, that, as the 
 deep and mysterious darkness which cov- 
 ered the land on the memorable nineteenth 
 of May filled all hearts with wonder and 
 multitudes with fear, so, the return, at 
 last, of that brightness and beauty charac- 
 teristic of the month and of the season, 
 brought gladness again to the faces of the 
 young, and composure to the hearts of the 
 aged ; for never before did nature appear 
 clothed in so charming an attire of sun- 
 shine, sky and verdure. 
 
IV. 
 TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 1780. 
 
 Darkest Page in American Revolutionary History. Plot to Deliver West Point, the Gibraltar of Amer- 
 ica, Over to the British. Movements of the Guilty Parties. Discovery and Frustration of the Crime. 
 Major Andre, the British Spy, is Captured, and Swings from a Gibbet. Escape of Arnold to the 
 Enemy. Is Spurned and Isolated in England. Arnold's Unquestioned Bravery. Commended by 
 General Washington. Infamous Personal Transactions Reprimanded by his Chief Determines on 
 Revenge. Correspondence with the Foe Ingratiates Washington's Favor Again. Obtains Com- 
 mand of West Point. Midnight Conference with Andre. Andre Seized while Returning Astound- 
 ing Evidence Against Him. Attempts to Bribe His Captors. Carried to American Head-Quarters. 
 Arnold Apprised of the Event. A Hurried Farewell to His Wile. Quick Pursuit of the Traitor. 
 He Reaches a British Man-of-War. Washington's Exclamation at the News His Call on Mrf Ar- 
 nold Andre's Trial and Conviction. Arnold's Reward for His Crime. His Dnlamented Death. 
 
 " Providence, which has BO often and BO remarkably interposed in our favor, never morifested itself more conspicuously than in the timely 
 discovery of Arnold's horrid intention to surrender the post and garrison of West Point to the enemy." WASHIKOTOM. 
 
 AEK and tragical, indeed, is that page in the history of 
 the American revolutionary war, which records Benedict 
 Arnold's atrocious scheme of treason against his native 
 land, in its. struggle against British oppression. Equally 
 strange and startling is the story which narrates the dis- 
 ^ covery and frustration of so perfidious a plot. Around 
 ' the memory of the unfortunate Andre, pity still wreathes 
 
 _ her romantic chaplet ; while the name of Arnold will, 
 
 |Hg 5 =-'= ! ^yy^' : to the end of time, transfix every patriotic mind, as that 
 PRICE OP ARNOLD'S TREASON. o f the blackest among modern criminals. The treacher- 
 ous deed wa committed, too, in a year of deep depression on the part of the Americans. 
 Of Arnold, personally and professionally, it may be remarked, that he was born in 
 Norwich, Connecticut, in 1740, and began his business career at an early age, as a horse- 
 dealer, and not over-scrupulous. He was also for a time a druggist and bookseller in 
 New Haven. At the beginning of the war of the Eevolution he placed himself at the 
 head of a volunteer company, and soon distinguished himself ; was associated also with 
 General Montgomery in the expedition against Quebec. In this latter most disastrous 
 affair, undertaken in severe weather, his illustrious colleague lost his life, and Arnold, 
 who was severely wounded in the leg, displayed the highest abilities as a commander 
 and the greatest gallantry as a soldier, eliciting Washington's warmest esteem and ad- 
 miration. But, licentious and rapacious as he was brave and intelligent, he plundered 
 Montreal in his retreat, and by his misconduct exasperated the minds of the Canadians, 
 who previously were not hostile to the Revolution. After exhibiting great courage 
 and skill on Lake Champlain, at Fort Schuyler, and the battle of Stillwater, his leg 
 was shattered by a ball on the seventh of October, 1777, in a daring assault on 
 
TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 49 
 
 the English lines, which he penetrated, and 
 but for his wound would have carried. 
 Being thus unfitted for active service, he 
 was appointed commander of the garrison 
 at Philadelphia, but his dissipation, extor- 
 tion, and peculation, at last subjected him 
 to a trial by court martial, and to a repri- 
 mand from Washington, at the beginning 
 of 1779. This sentence was approved by 
 Congress, and carried into execution by 
 General Washington. Embarrassed in his 
 circumstances, disappointed in his expec- 
 tations, and exasperated by disgrace, he 
 formed the design of retrieving his misfor- 
 tunes and satisfying his revenge, by be- 
 traying his country. It was in this wise : 
 
 While the British army was in Phila- 
 delphia, in the spring of 1778, a grand 
 parting entertainment was given by the 
 royalists to Sir William Howe, the British 
 commander-in-chief. Major Andre, made 
 Adjutant-General of the army by Howe's 
 successor, was one of the chief managers 
 of the affair. Miss Shippen, a Philadel- 
 phia belle (and who subsequently became 
 Mrs. Arnold), figured conspicuously among 
 the actors of the entertainment, and she 
 and Andre kept up a correspondence after- 
 ward. Through this channel Arnold saw, 
 after his marriage with Miss Shippen, an 
 opportunity for communicating with Sir 
 Henry Clinton, the British commander at 
 New York. In other words, he deter- 
 mined to betray his country, being, in 
 this respect, an almost solitary instance, 
 Dr. Benjamin Church, of Massachusetts, 
 surgeon-general, being the other principal 
 offender. 
 
 Under fictitious names, and in the dis- 
 guise of mercantile business, Arnold was 
 even now in treacherous correspondence 
 with Sir Henry Clinton, through Major 
 Andre. To him the British general com- 
 mitted the maturing of Arnold's treason, 
 and, to facilitate measures for its execu- 
 tion, the sloop of war Vulture moved up 
 the North river, and took a station con- 
 venient for the purpose, but not so near as 
 to excite suspicion. An interview was 
 agreed on, and in the night of September 
 twenty-first, 1780, he was taken in a boat, 
 
 which was dispatched for the purpose, and 
 carried to the beach, without the posts of 
 both armies, under a pass for John Ander- 
 son. He met General Arnold at the house 
 of a Mr. Smith. 
 
 Yielding with reluctance to the urgent 
 representations of Arnold, Andre laid aside 
 his regimentals, which he had hitherto 
 worn under a surtout, putting on a suit of 
 ordinary clothes instead ; and now, receiv- 
 ing 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 in the evening of the twenty- 
 second, accompanied by Joshua Smith, and 
 passed the night at Crompond. The next 
 morning he crossed the Hudson to King's 
 Ferry on the east side. A little beyond 
 the Croton, Smith deeming him safe, bade 
 him adieu. Alone, and without having 
 excited the least suspicion, Andre passed 
 the American guards, and was silently 
 congratulating himself that he had passed 
 all danger, when, coming to a place whore 
 a small stream crossed the road and ran 
 into a woody dell, a man stepped out from 
 the trees, leveled a musket, and brought 
 him to a stand, while two other men, sim- 
 ilarly armed, showed themselves prepared 
 to second their comrades. The man who 
 at first stepped out wore a refugee uniform. 
 At sight of it, Andre's heart leapt, and he 
 felt himself secure. Losing all caution, 
 he exclaimed eagerly : 
 
 "Gentlemen, where do you belong? I 
 hope to our party ! " 
 
 " What party?" was their immediate 
 inquiry in response ; the trio consisting of 
 scouting militiamen, named Paulding, 
 Williams, and Vau Wart. 
 
 "The party below," meaning New 
 York, was the answer. 
 
 " We do," was the shrewd reply of the 
 three, as they now seized the bridle of the 
 unfortunate man's horse, and challenged 
 his business in that place. 
 
 Seeing, beyond all doubt, the hands he 
 had fallen into, Andre quickly shifted his 
 tactics by jocosely remarking that what he 
 
5U 
 
 TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 had first represented himself to be was 
 merely by way of badinage, and that he 
 was in reality a Continental officer, going 
 down to Dobbs Ferry to get information 
 from below ; so saying, he drew forth and 
 showed them the pass from General Arnold. 
 This in the first place would have sufficed, , 
 but his strange conduct and imprudent 
 speech had so thoroughly betrayed him, 
 that the three militiamen insisted on 
 searching his person. They therefore 
 obliged him to take off his coat and vest, 
 and found on him eighty dollars in Conti- 
 nental money, but nothing to warrant sus- 
 picion of anything sinister, and were about 
 to let him proceed, when one of them 
 
 marks on the works ; also other important 
 documents. 
 
 While dressing again, Andre endeavored 
 to ransom himself from his captors. He 
 would give any sum of money, if they 
 would let him go ; would give his horse, 
 saddle, bridle, gold watch, and one hundred 
 guineas, and would send them to any place 
 that might be fixed upon. 
 
 Williams asked, ironically, whether ht 
 would not give more than all that. 
 
 Andre replied, that he would give any 
 reward they might name either in goods 
 or money, and would remain with two of 
 'their party while one went to New Yorl' 
 to get it. 
 
 -r 
 
 CAPTURE OF ANDRE. 
 
 Paulding, a stout-hearted youngster ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Boys, I am not satisfied his boots 
 must come off." 
 
 At this Andre changed color. His 
 boots, he said, came off with difficulty, and 
 he begged he might not be subjected to 
 the inconvenience and delay. His remon- 
 strances were in vain. He was compelled 
 | to sit down ; his boots were drawn off and 
 the concealed papers discovered. Hastily 
 scanning them, Paulding exclaimed 
 
 "My God! He is a spy!" 
 
 The papers, which were in the hand- 
 writing of Arnold, contained exact returns 
 of the state of the forces, ordnance, and 
 defences of West Point, with critical re- 
 
 Here Paulding broke in and declared 
 with an oath, that if he would give ten 
 thousand guineas he should not stir one 
 step. 
 
 On the morning of the twenty-eighth of 
 September, Andre, in charge of Major 
 Tallmadge, was conveyed in a barge to 
 King's Ferry. Being both young, of equal 
 ra'nk, and prepossessing manners, a frank 
 and cordial intercourse grew up between 
 them. By a cartel, mutually agreed upon, 
 each might put to the other any question 
 not involving a third person. They were 
 passing below the rocky heights of West 
 Point and in full view of the frowning 
 fortress, when Tallmadge asked Andre 
 whether he would have taken an actrv* 
 
TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 part in the attack on it, should Arnold's 
 plan have succeeded. 
 
 Andre promptly answered this question 
 in the affirmative; pointed out a table of 
 land on the west shore, where he would 
 have landed a select corps, described the 
 route he would have taken up the moun- 
 tain to a height in the rear of Fort Put- 
 nam, overlooking the whole parade of 
 West Point "and this he did," writes 
 Tallmadge, " with much greater exactness 
 than I could have done. This eminence 
 he would have reached without difficulty, 
 as Arnold would have disposed of the gar- 
 rison in such manner as to be capable of 
 little or no opposition and then the key 
 
 public ear, and all hearts turned for relief 
 to the wisdom of Washington Unfortu- 
 nately for the ends of justice, Andre asked 
 permission of Colonel Jameson, as soon as 
 he was taken to the latter's custody, to 
 write to General Arnold, to inform him 
 that ' Anderson ' was detained. Not 
 knowing the rank of his prisoner nor the 
 magnitude of the plot, the letter was al- 
 lowed by Jameson to be sent, and Arnold, 
 being thus apprised, escaped. Colonel 
 Jameson also forwarded to General Wash- 
 ington the papers found on the prisoner, 
 and a statement of the manner in which 
 he was taken. 
 
 The papers sent to Washington missed 
 
 '\f the country would have been in his 
 hands, and he would have had the glory 
 of the splendid achievement." Tallmadge 
 ventured to ask Andre what was to have 
 been his reward had he succeeded. To 
 this the reply was : " Military glory was 
 all I sought The thanks of my general 
 and the approbation of my king would 
 have been a rich reward for such an under- 
 taking." Tallmadge also adds : " I think 
 he further remarked, that, if he had suc- 
 ceeded, he was to have been promoted to 
 the rank of a brigadier-general." 
 
 The news of Andre's arrest and Arnold's 
 treason fell like a thunderbolt upon the 
 
 him, as he did not return by the road he 
 went, but took the northern route to Fish- 
 kill, where, September twenty-fourth, he 
 arrived late in the afternoon, the very day 
 after Andre's capture, of which event 
 and of Arnold's treason he was wholly 
 unconscious. Stopping at Fishkill only a 
 short time, he pushed on for the quarters 
 of his brave general, Arnold, some eighteen 
 miles distant. He had gone, however, but 
 a mile or two, before he met the French 
 minister, Chevalier Luzerne, on his way to 
 Newport, to visit Rochambeau, the French 
 naval commander. The latter prevailed 
 on him to return to Fishkill for the night, 
 
52 
 
 TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 as he had matters of importance to com- 
 municate. 
 
 The next morning, Washington was 
 early in the saddle, having sent word be- 
 forehand to Arnold that he would break- 
 fast with him. It was a bright autumnal 
 morning, and the whole party in high 
 spirits pushed rapidly forward through the 
 gorges of the Highlands. As they came 
 opposite West Point, Washington, instead 
 of continuing on to Arnold's quarters, 
 which were on the same side, turned his 
 horse down a narrow road toward the 
 river. Lafayette observing this, ex- 
 claimed 
 
 " General, you are going in the wrong 
 direction ; you know Mrs. Arnold is wait- 
 ing breakfast for us, and that road will 
 take us out of the way." 
 
 Jameson, commanding at North Castle, 
 announcing the capture of Andre, and who 
 had been brought in to Jameson's post, by 
 three militiamen, Paulding, Williams, and 
 Van Wart, his captors, whom the gallant 
 but unfortunate man vainly endeavored to 
 bribe, in order to his release. They knew 
 him to be a spy, but were ignorant of his 
 military rank. 
 
 Merely remarking that his presence at 
 West Point was necessary, Arnold re- 
 quested the aids to say to Washington on 
 his arrival that he was unexpectedly called 
 over the river, and would be back soon. 
 Repairing to his wife's chamber, he sent 
 for her at the breakfast table, and told her 
 that he must instantly leave her and his 
 country forever, for death was his certain 
 doom if he did not reach the enemy before 
 
 WEST POINT IN 1780. 
 
 " Ah ! " replied Washington, laughingly, 
 " I know you young men are all in love 
 with Mrs. Arnold, and wish to get where 
 she is as soon as possible. You may go 
 and take breakfast with her, and tell her 
 not to wait for me. I must ride down and 
 examine the redoubts on this side of the 
 river, and will be there in a short time." 
 
 The officers preferring not to proceed 
 without him, two aids were dispatched to 
 tell Arnold not to wait breakfast. The 
 latter, therefore, with his family and the 
 two aids sat down to the table. While 
 they were conversing on indifferent topics, 
 a messenger entered and handed a letter 
 to Arnold, who opened and read it in pres- 
 ence of the company, without, of course, di- 
 vulging its contents. It was from Colonel 
 
 he was detected. Paralyzed by the sud- 
 den blow, she fell senseless at his feet. 
 Not daring to call for help, Arnold left her 
 in that state, and rapidly descending to the 
 door, mounted one of the horses belonging 
 to Washington's aids, and taking a 
 by-way pushed for the river, where his 
 barge was moored. Jumping in, he or- 
 dered his six oarsmen to pull for Teller's 
 Point. Stimulating them to greater 
 efforts by the promise of two gallons of 
 rum, he swept rapidly past Verplanck's 
 Point, and as he approached the British 
 ship Vulture, waved a white handkerchief, 
 and was soon on board. In the meantime, 
 Washington, 'having finished his survey, 
 rode on to Arnold's house. Taking a 
 hasty breakfast, and being informed that 
 
TREASON OF MAJOR-GENEKAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 53 
 
 Mrs. Arnold was in her room, unwell, he 
 said he would not wait for Arnold to 
 return, but cross over to West Point and 
 meet him there. As the boat swept over 
 the water, he remarked 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, I am glad on the 
 whole that General Arnold has gone before 
 us, for we shall now have a salute, and the 
 roaring of the cannon will have a fine 
 effect among these mountains." 
 
 At this moment an officer was seen 
 coming down the rocky hill-side, to 
 meet the barge. It was Colonel 
 Lamb, who looked Confounded on 
 seeing the commander-in-chief. He 
 commenced an apology, declaring 
 that he was wholly ignorant of his 
 excellency's intention to visit West 
 Point. 
 
 " How is this, sir," broke in Wash- 
 ington, " is not General Arnold here ? " 
 
 "No, sir," replied the colonel, "he has 
 not been here these two days, nor have I 
 heard from him in that time." 
 
 "This is extraordinary," replied Wash- 
 ington ; "he left word that he had crossed 
 the river. However, our visit must not 
 be in vain. Since we have come, we must 
 look around and see in what state things 
 are with you." 
 
 And now it was that Hamilton broke 
 the astounding news to his chief. The 
 latter, stunned and bewildered, ordered 
 Hamilton to mount a horse and ride as for 
 life to Verplanck's Point, and stop Arnold, 
 if possible ; he called in Knox and Lafay- 
 ette, and told them what had occurred, 
 merely remarking at the close, " Whom 
 can we trust now?" His countenance 
 was calm as ever, and being informed that 
 Arnold's wife was in a state bordering on 
 insanity, he went up to her room to soothe 
 her. In her frenzy she upbraided him 
 with being in a plot to murder her child. 
 One moment she raved, another she melted 
 into tears. Sometimes she pressed her 
 infant to her bosom and lamented its fate, 
 occasioned by the imprudence of its father, 
 in a manner that would have pierced in- 
 sensibility itself. It was four o'clock in 
 the afternoon when these disclosures of 
 
 Arnold's treason and Andre's capture were 
 made to Washington, and, an hour later, 
 dinner being announced, he said 
 
 "Come, gentlemen, since Mrs. Arnold 
 is unwell and the general is absent, let us 
 sit down without ceremony." 
 
 No one at the table but Knox and La- 
 fayette knew what had transpired, nor 
 did Washington exhibit any change 01 
 demeanor, except that he was more than 
 
 GENERAL AKXOLD'S HEAD-QOABTERS. 
 
 usually stern in his voice and manner. 
 But his mind, oppressed with nameless 
 fears, wandered far away from that dinner 
 table, and no sooner was the quiet repast 
 over than he addressed himself to the task 
 before him. He wrote rapidly, and cour- 
 iers were soon seen galloping in every di- 
 rection. 'He announced the treason to 
 Colonel Wade, commanding at West Point, 
 in the absence of Colonel JLamb, in the 
 single sentence, " General Arnold is gone 
 to the enemy." Having done all he could 
 to arrest the tremendous evils that threat- 
 ened to overwhelm him, Washington re- 
 tired late at night to his bed, fearful that 
 the sound of the enemy's cannon, under 
 the auspices of Arnold's treacherous 
 schemes, would awake him before day- 
 light. It happily did not prove so. 
 
 A court-martial, having condemned 
 Andre as a spy, Sir Henry Clinton, the 
 British general, put forth every effort to 
 avert the dreadful fate of his officer. He 
 sent three commissioners to reason and re- 
 monstrate with the officers of the court. 
 He appealed to Washington, while Arnold 
 wrote him a threatening letter, declaring 
 if Andre was hung he would revenge his 
 death on every American prisoner that fell 
 into his hands. Washington deigned no 
 reply to the letter, but tenderly forwarded 
 
54 
 
 TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 Mrs. Arnold and her baggage over to the 
 British side. 
 
 Washington, though his heart was filled 
 with the keenest sorrow for the fate of one 
 so universal!}' beloved, and posse>.-ed of 
 such noble qualities of heart and mind, 
 refused to arrest the course of justice. As 
 in all cases where great trouble came upon 
 him, so in this, he said but little, but 
 
 sternly and silently wrestled with it alone. 
 Arnold was made brigadier-general in the 
 British service, and put on an official level 
 with honorable men, who scorned, how- 
 ever, to associate with him. What golden 
 reward he was to have received had he 
 ;.succeeded in delivering West Point to the 
 enemy, is not known ; 3Q r 000, most prob- 
 ably. 
 
V. 
 
 CORNWALLIS SURRENDERS HIS SPLENDID ARMY TO 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 1781. 
 
 b'inal Catastrophe to British Arms in America. Consternation and Despair in the Cabinet of King 
 George Their Vaunted Wager of Battle Returns to Them with the Loss of their Fairest Possession. 
 Washington's Countrymen Everywhere Hail and Extol Him as their Deliverer. Last Act in the 
 Military Drama. Cornwallis Halts at Yorktown. Makes it His Defensive Post. Decoy Letter 
 Sent by Washington. The British Strongly Fortified. American and French Forces United. Their 
 Advance on the Enemy. Furious Bombardment. Redoubts Stormed by Lafayette. Both Sides 
 Confident of Triumph. British Efforts to Retreat. Cornwallis Prefers Death to Defeat. Reckless 
 Bravery of Washington. Ardor and Exultation of His Troops. Cornwallis Fails of Re-enforcements. 
 He Asks a Cessation of Hostilities. Forced to Yield the Struggle. Universal Rejoicing of Amer- 
 icans. Mortification of the English. Eloquence of Burke, Fox, and Pitt. They Demand that the 
 War Cease. The Voice of Parliament. Commemorative Action by Congress. 
 
 "Oh, God! It IB all over it ia all over rLoED NOBTU, PRIME MINISTER or ENGLAND, ON HEJLBIXQ or COKIT-VTALLIS'S SURRENDER. 
 
 T the head of a powerful army, with 
 which he had just established himself 
 in Virginia, Lord Cornwallis vaunt- 
 ingly wrote to General Clinton, his 
 superior, as follows : 
 
 "I have ventured, these last two 
 days, to look General Washington's 
 whole force in the face, in the posi- 
 tion on the outside of my works, and 
 have the pleasure to assure your Ex- 
 cellency that there is but one wish 
 throughout the army, which is, that 
 the enemy would advance." 
 
 Scarcely did Cornwallis have 
 time to awake from his day-dream 
 of security, when a courier was 
 thundering at the doors of the 
 Continental Congress, with the 
 following dispatch from General 
 Washington : " I have the honor to inform congress that a reduction of the British army, 
 under the command of Lord Cornwallis, is most happily effected. The unremitted ardor, 
 which actuated every officer and soldier in the combined army on this occasion, has 
 principally led to this important event, at an earlier period than my most sanguine 
 hopes had induced me to expect. The singular spirit of emulation, which animated the 
 whole army from the first commencement of our operations, has filled my mind with the 
 
 THE HOUSE WHKRE OOKJTWALLIS SURRENDERED. 
 
6ti 
 
 CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 highest pleasure and satisfaction, and had 
 given me the happiest presages of success." 
 
 A glorious event, one eliciting the 
 most unbounded demonstrations of joy 
 throughout the United States, and which 
 completely destroyed British military 
 power at the s;outh, thus setting the seal of 
 American success upon the contest with 
 the mother country, was the capture, as 
 announced in the above dispatch, of Lord 
 Cornwallis and his splendid army, at York- 
 town, Virginia, in October, 1781, by the 
 combined American and French forces 
 under General Washington and Counts de 
 Rochambeau and Grasse. 
 
 Jn the summer of 1781, Cornwallis had 
 taken possession of several places in the 
 south, and, in the latter part of July, de- 
 sirous of establishing himself firmly in 
 Virginia, he accordingly selected York- 
 town as a suitable defensive post and capa- 
 ble of protecting ships of the line. Little 
 did he think, as he began leisurely to for- 
 tify the place, that it was a net which 
 would entangle him in crushed hopes and 
 ruined fortunes. Yorktown is situated at 
 the narrowest part of the peninsula formed 
 by the York and James rivers, where the 
 distance across is but eight miles. By 
 placing his troops, therefore, around the 
 village, and drawing about them a range 
 of outer redoubts and field works calcu- 
 lated to command this peninsula, Cornwal- 
 lis had, as he thought, established himself 
 well. 
 
 Lafayette, with an inferior number of 
 troops, was at this time at Williamsburg, 
 but was unable to make successful engage- 
 ments with the superior force of the Brit- 
 ish. Seeing, at once, the importance of 
 putting some check upon the progress of 
 Cornwallis at the south, Washington de- 
 termined to unite the American and French 
 forces, then in the neighborhood of New 
 York, and join Lafayette at Williamsburg. 
 This junction was effected on the four- 
 teenth of September, Washington being at 
 the head of the American troops, and the 
 Count de Rochambeau at the head of the 
 French forces. At the same time the 
 Count de Grasse, with his fleet, entered 
 
 the Chesapeake, after a slight engagement 
 with Admiral Graves off the capes, and 
 was joined by the squadron of the Count 
 de Barras from Newport. Three thou- 
 sand men, under the Marquis St. Simon, 
 were also added to the troops under La- 
 ' f fayette's command ; and these combined 
 forces then moved toward Yorktown and 
 Gloucester, where Corwallis was sta- 
 tioned. 
 
 The British general had been expecting 
 aid from Sir Henry Clinton at the north, 
 but so adroitly had Washington withdrawn 
 his troops, that Sir Henry scarcely sus- 
 pected his design, till it was too late to 
 frustrate it. On the thirteenth of Septem- 
 ber, ths allied army occupied the outer 
 lines of Cornwallis, which that general 
 had abandoned without a struggle. York- 
 town was in a short time completely 
 invested; the American army occupying 
 the right, and the French the left, forming 
 a semi-circle with each wing resting upon 
 the river. On the night of the sixth of 
 October the besieging army broke ground 
 within six hundred yards of the British 
 lines; and the first parallel was completed 
 with little loss. On the ninth and tenth, 
 guns were mounted on the works, and the 
 batteries began to play, with visible effect, 
 on the lines of the enemy. Many of their 
 guns were soon silenced, and their works 
 damaged. By the eleventh, the enemy 
 scarcely returned a shot. The shells and 
 red-hot balls of the besiegers reached the 
 shipping in the harbor, and set the Charon 
 frigate cf forty-four guns, and several 
 large transports on fire, which were en- 
 tirely consumed. On the night of the 
 eleventh, the second parallel was begun 
 within three hundred yards of the British 
 lines. The working parties were not dis- 
 covered until day-light, when the trenches 
 were in a situation to cover the men. 
 
 But there were two redoubts in particu- 
 lar, in front of the British lines and which 
 flanked the second parallel of the Ameri- 
 cans, that gave great annoyance to the 
 latter, and it was deemed necessary to 
 carry them by storm. To prevent national 
 jealousy, however^ ar.d to keep alive the 
 
CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 57 
 
 spirit of emulation which animated the co- 
 operating armies, the attack of one was 
 assigned to tho American troops, and that 
 of the other to the French. Lafayette 
 commanded the American detachment and 
 the Baron de Yiominet the French. 
 Colonel Hamilton, who through this cam- 
 paign commanded a battalion of light in- 
 fantry, led the advanced corps of the 
 Americans to the assault, while Colonel 
 Laurens turned the redoubt and attacked 
 
 in his confidence of triumph, had so recently 
 written to his superior, Sir Henry Clinton. 
 Having failed in his sortie, and knowing 
 that his position had become untenable, 
 the British general took the desperate res- 
 olution of crossing over to Gloucester 
 Point in the night, and cutting his way 
 through the blockading force there then, 
 mounting his men ou whatever horses he 
 could seize, make a rapid march northward 
 and join Sir Henry Clinton ! By this 
 
 COJUiWALLlS'S BUttKKKDEB. 
 
 in the rear, to prevent the retreat of the 
 garrison. Without giving time for the 
 abattis to be removed, and without firing 
 a gun, the Americans gallantly assaulted, 
 and instantly carried the works, with a 
 small loss of men on either side. The re- 
 doubt attacked by the French being more 
 strongly garrisoned made greater resist- 
 ance, and was overcome with a much heav- 
 ier loss. The success of these movements 
 was a stunning blow to Cornwallis, who, 
 
 movement he would abandon his sick anu 
 baggage; but he would save himself the 
 disgrace of a surrender. Boats were se- 
 cretly procured, and the first embarkation 
 reached the point safely and unperceived ; 
 but, at this juncture, a violent storm arose, 
 which drove the boats down the river. 
 The tempest continuing until day-light, 
 the enterprise was necessarily given up, 
 and the troops that had passed over gladly 
 re-crossed to the southern field. 
 
58 
 
 CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 In the mortification and anguish of his 
 soul, (Jornwallis shed tears, and expressed 
 his preference for death rather than the 
 ignominy of a surrender. But there was 
 no resource the handwriting on the wall 
 was against him the fate of war must be 
 accepted. The siege had continued close 
 for more than two weeks, and, notwith- 
 standing the losses in killed, wounded, and 
 missing, that had been sustained, the Brit- 
 ish army showed a handsome force of be- 
 tween seven and eight thousand trained 
 fighting men, of unquestioned bravery, but 
 who were soon to capitulate to the besieg- 
 ing forces, numbering, in all, some sixteen 
 thousand men, less disciplined, perhaps, 
 but determined and indomitable. 
 
 Of Washington, the central character 
 and actor in this great drama, every 
 American heart engrossingly thinks. 
 Knowing that Sir Henry Clinton had 
 written to Cornwallis, bidding him to 
 strengthen his position at Yorktown, and 
 promising him the immediate aid of both 
 land and naval forces, Washington had, 
 seasonably and with shrewd forecast, writ- 
 ten a letter to Lafayette, then in Virginia, 
 which he caused to be intercepted. In this 
 letter he remarked that he was pleased 
 with the probability that Earl Cornwallis 
 would fortify either Portsmouth or Old 
 Point Comfort, for, were he to fix upon 
 Yorktoivn, from its great capabilities of 
 defense, he might remain there snugly and 
 unharmed, until a superior British fleet 
 would relieve him with strong re-enforce- 
 ments, or embark him altogether. 
 
 This decoy letter quieted the apprehen- 
 sions of the British commander-in-chief as 
 to the danger of Cornwallis, and produced 
 those delays in the operations of Sir Henry, 
 which, as will have been seen, tended so 
 materially to the success of the allies and 
 the surrender of Yorktown. Thus it was 
 that Washington by his pen, laid the 
 train of success so well. Nor less so with 
 his sword. In the simultaneous attack 
 upon the redoubts, made by the combined 
 American and French army, Washington 
 was an intensely-excited spectator. He 
 had dismounted from his horse the mag- 
 
 nificent charger, named Nelson, and put 
 him in the care of a servant, while the 
 general himself took his stand in the grand 
 battery with his two chief generals, Lin- 
 coln and Knox, and their aids, and here 
 he exposed himself to every danger. 
 
 When all was over, at this critical junc- 
 ture, -the redoubts being taken, and 
 Washington's intense anxiety so happily 
 relieved, the general drew a long breath, 
 and looking at Knox with an expression 
 of extreme satisfaction, remarked, briefly, 
 " The work is done, and icell done ! " 
 Motioning to his faithful servant, who was 
 quickly in his presence, he said, "William, 
 bring me my horse," mounting which, the 
 chieftain proceeded to make sure that the 
 success which had attended the first par- 
 allel was followed up energetically until 
 no loop-hole was left, through which Corn- 
 wallis might escape. No such loop-hole 
 was afforded, and Cornwallis's doom was 
 sealed. 
 
 It was a proud day for the war-worn 
 troops of America to see so fine an army 
 not only within their grasp, but, to all in- 
 tents and purposes, completely at their 
 disposal, waiting only those last formali- 
 ties which give solemn dignity to the de- 
 crees already made by the sword, and 
 they saw, in the coming event, the final 
 catastrophe of British rule in America, 
 the close of the Revolutionary drama, 
 the establishment of a free and independ- 
 ent republic. As already remarked, Corn- 
 wallis had hoped for succor to the last, but 
 the slaughter of his men became too seri- 
 ous to be any longer endured, and finally 
 the loud beat of the chamade was heard in 
 the intervals of the explosions of cannon, 
 and the firing ceased. Cornwallis then 
 sent a flag of truce requesting a cessation 
 of hostilities for twenty-four hours, to ar- 
 range the terms of capitulation. To this 
 Washington would not consent, fearing 
 that the arrival of the English fleet in the 
 meantime might alter the aspect of affairs, 
 and allowed him but two hours in which 
 to transmit his proposals. The full sur- 
 render took place the next day, October 19, 
 1781, the articles of capitulation being 
 
CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 signed by Cornwallis at the house of a Mr. 
 Moore. 
 
 At about 12 o'clock of that day, the 
 combined continental army was drawn up 
 in two lines more than a mile in length, 
 the Americans on the right side of the 
 road, and their French allies on the left. 
 Washington, mounted on a noble steed, 
 and attended by his staff, was in front of 
 the former; the Count de Rochambeau 
 and his suite, of the latter. The French 
 troops, in complete uniform, and well 
 equipped, made a brilliant appearance, and 
 had marched to the ground with a band of 
 music playing, which was a novelty in the 
 American service. The American troops, 
 but part in uniform, and all in garments 
 much the worse for wear, yet had a spirited 
 soldier-like air, and were not the worse in 
 the eyes of their countrymen for bearing 
 the marks of hard service and great priva- 
 tions. The concourse of spectators drawn 
 from all the neighboring country to witness 
 a scene so thrilling and momentous, was 
 almost equal in number to the military, 
 but silence and order prevailed unbroken. 
 
 The enthusiasm throughout ^he country, 
 on the surrender of Cornwallif, was un- 
 bounded. " Cornwallis is taken, I " was 
 the message which sped itself with the 
 wings of the wind to every city, tovn and 
 village, and was shouted by every mouth. 
 But the mortification of Cornwallis vas 
 intense, and the British cabinet, on hear- 
 ing the news, turned pale with despair. 
 Lords Germain, Walsingham, and Stor- 
 mount, proceeded to Lord North's house, 
 and there, at midnight, announced to him 
 the portentous dispatch. The haughty 
 premier was astounded and humbled. In 
 the words of Lord Germain, in answer to 
 the inquiry how Lord North received the 
 aews? "As he would have received a ball 
 in his breast ; for he opened his arms, ex- 
 claiming wildly as he paced up and clown 
 the apartment, ' Oh God ! It is all over 
 it is all over!'" King George III. was at 
 Kew, and the intelligence was forwarded 
 to him at that place. He exhibited no loss 
 of eelf-control, it is said, notwithstanding 
 the hopes which had been centered in Corn- 
 
 wallis and his army, to give triumph to 
 the British arms. 
 
 It is well known that, during the month 
 of November, the accounts received by the 
 British government, of Lord Cornwallis's 
 embarrassments, gave great anxiety to the 
 cabinet. Lord George Germain, in partic- 
 ular, conscious that on the prosperous or 
 adverse result of Cornwallis's movements 
 hinged the result of the whole American 
 contest, as well as his own political fate 
 and probably the duration of the ministry 
 itself, expressed to his friends the strong- 
 est uneasiness on the subject. The meet- 
 ing of parliament stood fixed for the 27th 
 of that month. On the 25th, the official 
 intelligence of the unconditional surrender 
 of the British forces of Yorktown, arrived 
 at Lord Germain's house. Lord Walsing- 
 ham, who, previous to his father, Sir Wil- 
 liam de Grey's elevation to the peerage, 
 had been under-secretary of state in that 
 department, and who was to second the 
 address in the house of lords, happened to 
 be theie whet, the messenger brought the 
 news. Without communicating it to any 
 unofficial person, Lord George, for the 
 purpose of dispatch, immediately got with 
 him into a hackney-coacb. and drove to 
 Lord Stormount's residence in Portland 
 Place. Having imparted the disastrous 
 informat'on to him, they determii ed, after 
 a short consultation, to lay the ir> telligence 
 themselves in person before Lord North, 
 wiih what result has already been stated 
 on the authority of a writer in Blackwood's 
 Magazine. 
 
 The next picture is that of a cabinet 
 council in terror. When the first agitation 
 had subsided, the four ministers discussed 
 the question, whether it might not be ex- 
 pedient to prorogue the meeting of parlia- 
 ment for a few days ; but as scarcely an 
 interval of forty-eight hours remained be- 
 fore the appointed time of meeting, and as 
 many members of both houses had arrived 
 in London, or were on their way, the prop- 
 osition was abandoned. It became, how- 
 ever, indispensable to alter, and almost 
 remodel, the king's speech. This was 
 done without delay, and at the same time 
 
60 
 
 CORNWALL1S' SURRENDER. 
 
 Lord George, as secretary for the American 
 department, sent off a dispatch to the 
 king, then at Kew, acquainting him with 
 Cormvallis's fate. 
 
 One who was intimate in the circle of 
 court actors and secrets at that time says : 
 I dined that day at Lord George's, and 
 although the information which had 
 reached London in the course of the morn- 
 ing from France, as well as from the offi- 
 cial report, was of a nature not to admit of 
 long concealment, yet it had not been 
 communicated to me or any other individ- 
 ual of the company when I got to Pall 
 Mall, between five and six o'clock. Lord 
 Walsingham, who also dined there, was 
 then the only person, except Lord George, 
 officially knowing to the fact. The party, 
 nine in number, sat down to the table. I 
 thought the master of the house appeared 
 serious, though he manifested no discom- 
 posure. Before dinner was over, a letter 
 was brought from the king, by the messen- 
 ger who had been dispatched to him with 
 the startling intelligence. Lord Walsing- 
 ham simply indulged in the observation : 
 "The king writes just as he always docs, 
 except that I perceive he has neglected to 
 mark the hour and minute of his writing 
 with his usual precision." This remark, 
 though calculated to awaken some interest, 
 excited no comment; and while the ladies, 
 Lord George's three daughters, remained 
 in the room, all manifestation of curiosity 
 was repressed. But they had no sooner 
 withdrawn, than Lord George having com- 
 municated the fact that information had 
 just arrived from Paris of the old Count 
 Maurepas, first minister of the French 
 cabinet, lying at the point of death, the 
 remark was made by one of the party 
 
 " It would grieve me to finish my career, 
 however far advanced in years, were I first 
 minister of France, before I had witnessed 
 the termination of this great contest be- 
 tween England and America." 
 
 "He has survived to see that event," at 
 once replied Lord George Germain, with 
 some agitation. 
 
 The conversation was continued, until, 
 on the more particular mention of the Vir- ' 
 
 ginia campaign, the minister disclosed 
 the full bearing of the intelligence he had 
 received, saying 
 
 "The army has surrendered, and you 
 may peruse the particulars of the capitula- 
 tion in that paper." 
 
 The paper was taken from his pocket, 
 and read to the company. The next ques- 
 tion was one of rather an obtrusive kind, 
 to learn what the king thought on the 
 subject. In reply to this, the minister's 
 remark did the highest credit to his maj- 
 esty's firmness, fortitude and consistency. 
 The minister even allowed the king's bil- 
 let to be read, and it was as follows : 
 
 ' I have received, with sentiments of the 
 deepest concern, the communication which 
 Lord George Germain has made to me, of 
 the unfortunate result of the operations to 
 Virginia. I particularly lament it, on 
 account of the consequences connected with 
 it and the difficulties which it may produce 
 in carrying on the public business, or in 
 repairing such a misfortune. But I trust 
 that neither Lord Germain, nor any other 
 member of the cabinet, will suppose that it 
 makes the smallest alteration in those 
 principles of my conduct, which have di- 
 rected me in the past time, which will al- 
 ways continue to animate me under every 
 event, in the prosecution of the present 
 contest.' 
 
 The cabinet, strengthened by the royal 
 determination, now recovered courage ; 
 they met parliament at the appointed time, 
 and fought their battle there with unusual 
 vigor. Perhaps in all the annals of sena- 
 torial struggle, there never was a crisis 
 which more powerfully displayed the 
 talents of the Commons. Burke, Fox, and 
 Pitt, were at once seen pouring down the 
 whole fiery torrent of declamation on the 
 government. 
 
 But at all events, the success of the 
 siege of Yorktown, it is generally under- 
 stood, decided the revolutionary war. 
 " The infant Hercules," said Dr. Franklin, 
 "has now strangled the two serpents, that 
 attacked him in his cradle." AH the world 
 agree that no expedition was <:\er better 
 planned or better executed. For the 
 
CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 61 
 
 " great glory and advantage " of Cornwal- 
 lis's subjection, Washington afterwards 
 acknowledged himself chiefly indebted to 
 the French alliance. And in the proceed- 
 ings of congress upon the matter, it was 
 amongst other things: 'Resolved, that 
 congress cause to be erected at Yorktown 
 a marble column, adorned with emblems of 
 the alliance between the United States 
 and France, and inscribed with a succinct 
 narrative of the siege, and capitulation.' 
 Special thanks were also tendered by that 
 body's vote, to each commander engaged 
 in the siege ; and to Washington were 
 presented two stands of colors taken from 
 the enemy, and two pieces of field ordnance 
 to Counts Rochambeau and de Grasse. 
 
 Tha next day after the surrender -was 
 the Sabbath, and Washington ordered 
 special divine service in each of the brig- 
 ades of the American army. He also by 
 public proclamation congratulated the 
 allied armies on the auspicious victory, 
 awarding high praise to the officers and 
 troops, both French and American, for 
 their conduct during the siege, and speci- 
 fying by name several of the generals and 
 other officers who had especially distin- 
 guished themselves. All those of his army 
 who were under arrest were pardoned and 
 set free. 
 
 News of this glorious victory sped like 
 lightning over the land. Washington dis- 
 patched at once one of his aids, Colonel 
 Tilghman, to congress, then sitting in 
 Philadelphia. The swift rider dashed on 
 a gallop into the city at midnight the 
 clatter of his horse's hoofs the only sound 
 that broke the silence of the deserted 
 streets, as he pressed straight for the house 
 of McKean, then president of congress. 
 Thundering at the door as though he 
 would force an entrance, he roused the 
 sleeping president, saying, " Cornwallis is 
 taken ! " The watchmen caught the words, 
 and when they called " One o'clock," they 
 added, "and Cornwallis is taken!" As 
 they moved slowly on their nightly rounds, 
 windows were flung open and eager coun- 
 tenances were everywhere scanning the 
 streets. A hum, like that of au awaken- 
 
 ing hive, immediately pervaded the city. 
 The inhabitants went pouring into the 
 streets, while shout after shout rose on the 
 midnight air. The old bellman was roused 
 from his slumbers, and soon the iron 
 tongue of the bell at the state-house rang 
 out, as of old, " Proclaim liberty through- 
 out all the land to all the inhabitants 
 thereof." The dawn was greeted with the 
 booming of cannon ; and salvos of artillery, 
 and shouts of joy, and tears of thanksgiving, 
 
 accompanied the glad news as it traveled 
 exultingly over the length and breadth of 
 the land. Every voice was loud in its 
 praise of General Washington, and of his 
 gallant ally, the Count de Rochambeau. 
 
 It is stated as an interesting fact in the 
 history of this great event and the charac- 
 ter of the two chief commanders, that, on 
 the day after the surrender, Cornwallis 
 went in person to pay his respects to Gen- 
 eral Washington and await his orders. 
 The captive chief was received with all the 
 courtesy due to a gallant and unfortunate 
 foe. The elegant manners, together with 
 the manly, frank, and soldierly bearing of 
 Cornwallis, soon made him a prime favor- 
 ite at head-quarters, and he often formed 
 part of the suite of the commander-in- 
 chief in his rides to inspect the leveling of 
 the works previous to the retirement of the 
 combined American and French armies 
 from before Yorktown. At the grand din- 
 ner given at the head-quarters to the offi- 
 cers of the three armies, Washington filled 
 his glass, and, after his favorite toast, 
 whether in peace or war, of "All out 
 
62 
 
 CORNWALLIS' SURRENDER. 
 
 friends," gave " The British army," with 
 some complimentary remarks upon its 
 chief, his proud career in arms, and his 
 gallant defense of Yorktown. When it 
 came to Cornwallis's turn, he prefaced his 
 toast by saying that the war was virtually 
 at an end, and the contending parties' 
 would soon embrace as friends ; there 
 might be affairs of posts, but nothing on 
 a more enlarged scale, as it was scarcely 
 
 to be expected that the ministry would 
 send another army to America. Then 
 turning to Washington, his lordship con- 
 tinued 
 
 " And when the illustrious part that 
 your excellency has borne in this long and 
 arduous contest becomes matter of history, 
 fame will gather your brightest laurels 
 rather from the banks of the Delaware 
 than from those of the Chesapeake." 
 
VI. 
 ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. 1783. 
 
 Affecting Interviews and Parting Words between the Great Chieftain and His Comrades-in-Arms. 
 Solemn Farewell Audience with Congress. In Its Presence He Voluntarily Divests Himself of His 
 Supreme Authority, Returns His Victorious Sword, and Becomes a Private Citizen. History of the 
 Election of a Military Leader. America's Destiny in His Hands. Appointment of George Wash- 
 ington The Army at Cambridge, Mass. He Immediately Takes Command. Is Enthusiastically 
 Greeted. Leads Its Fortunes Seven Years. Record of His Generalship. Ends the War in Tri- 
 umph. Scheme to Make Him King. Indignantly Rebukes the Proposal. Last Review of His 
 Troops. His Strong Attachment for Them. Intention to Leave Public Life. Congress Informed of 
 this Fact. Embarkation from New York. Homage Paid Him Everywhere Arrival at Annapo- 
 lis. Proceeds to the Halls of Congress. Impressive Ceremonial There. Rare Event in Human 
 History. 
 
 Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the theater of action, and, bidding an offertionate farewell to thli augnit body t 
 under whoie orders I have BO long acted. I here offer my commission, and UVe my leave of all the employments of public life."-Wism!<tt- 
 ' 
 
 TOW'S RETIREMENT AS REVOLUTIONARY LEADER. 
 
 fHAT momentous object for which the War of Independence was for 
 seven long years waged, under the supreme leadership of General 
 Washington, having been achieved by the unconditional acknowledg- 
 ment of that independence on the part of Great Britain, a cessation 
 of hostilities was formally announced by congress to a rejoicing 
 people. Washington's military course having thus honorably and 
 successfully terminated, he, Cincinnatus-like, sheathed his sword, 
 and surrendered his high commission to that power which had in- 
 vested him. with its authority. It will, therefore, not only be appro- 
 priate, hut of peculiar interest, to link together, in one narrative, the 
 circumstances attending his appointment to the responsible office of 
 commander-in-chief of the revolutionary army, and that last great 
 act the Eeturu of his Commission in the stupendous drama of 
 which he was the central figure. 
 
 To that sterling old patriot, John Adams, the credit of the wisdom 
 of selecting Washington as military chieftain principally belongs. 
 It was a question, on the decision of which hung the fate of the rev- 
 olutionary cause ; and in all parts of the country, among the people 
 at large as well as in the more immediate circles of congress, by 
 whom the great question was finally to be determined, the discussion 
 as to who should be chosen as the nation's leader in the councils of 
 WASHINGTON'S swoBD. war and on the battle-field, was universal. Mr. Adams states that 
 in regard to this election, there was in congress a southern party against a north- 
 ern, and a jealousy against a New England army under the command of a 
 
64 
 
 ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 New England general ; but whether this 
 jealousy was sincere, or whether it was 
 mere pride and ambition the ambition of 
 furnishing a southern general to command 
 the northern army, was a matter of 
 doubt. The intention, however, was very 
 visible that Colonel Washington was their 
 object. 
 
 The military ability which had been dis- 
 played, on different occasions, by Colonel 
 Washington, were well understood, and, 
 from the conspicuous positions in which 
 he had thus been placed, and the saga- 
 cious judgment which was known to have 
 characterized him in important emergen- 
 cies, he had, for a long time past, enjoyed 
 a fine reputation throughout the colonies, 
 as a gallant and successful officer. He was 
 only in a moderate sense a partisan, in 
 the difficulties and discussions which had 
 arisen between his own and the mother 
 country ; but, from the very first, he ex- 
 hibited sufficient repugnance to any atti- 
 tude of vassalage, on the part of his coun- 
 trymen, to show that he would be no will- 
 ing subject of coercion, should the preten- 
 sions of the British be attempted to be car- 
 ried out by threats, or by recourse to arms. 
 
 When congress had assembled, Mr. 
 John Adams arose in his place, and in as 
 short a speech as the subject would admit 
 represented the state of the colonies, the 
 uncertainty in the minds of the people, 
 their great expectation and anxiety, the 
 distresses of the army, the danger of its 
 dissolution, the difficulty of collecting an- 
 other ; and the probability that the Brit- 
 ish army would take advantage of these 
 delays, march out of Boston, and spread 
 desolation as far as they could go. He 
 concluded with a motion, in form, that 
 congress would adopt the army at Cam- 
 bridge, and appoint a general ; that though 
 this was not the proper time to nominate a 
 general, yet as there existed reasons for 
 believing this to be the greatest difficulty, 
 he had no hesitation to declare that there 
 was but one gentleman in his mind for 
 that important office, and that was a gen- 
 tleman from Virginia one of their own 
 number, and well known to them all, a 
 
 gentleman whose skill and experience as an 
 officer, whose independent fortune, great 
 talents, and excellent general character, 
 would command the approbation of all 
 America, and unite the cordial exertions 
 of all the colonies better than any o'her 
 person in the Union. 
 
 Mr. Washington, who happened to sit 
 near the door, as soon as he heard this al- 
 lusion to himself, with his usual modesty, 
 darted into the library room. 
 
 The subject came under debate, and 
 several gentlemen declared themselves 
 against the appointment of Mr. Washing- 
 ton, not on account of any personal objec- 
 tion against him, but because the army 
 were all from New England, had a general 
 of their own, appeared to be satisfied with 
 him, and had proved themselves able to 
 imprison the British army in Boston. 
 Mr. Pendleton, of Virginia, and Mr. 
 Sherman, of Connecticut, were very ex- 
 plicit in declaring this opinion. Mr. 
 Gushing and others more faintly expressed 
 their opposition, and their fears of discon- 
 tent in the army and in New England. 
 Mr. Paine expressed a great opinion of 
 General Ward, and a strong friendship 
 for him, having been his classmate at col- 
 lege, or, at least, his contemporary ; but 
 gave no opinion on the question. The 
 subject was postponed to a future day. In 
 the meantime, pains were taken out of 
 doors to obtain a unanimity, and the voices 
 were generally so clearly in favor of Wash- 
 ington, that the dissenting members were 
 persuaded to withdraw their opposition, 
 and Mr. Washington was nominated by 
 Mr. Thomas Johnson, of Maryland, unan- 
 imously elected, and the army adopted. 
 
 His official commission was at once 
 drawn up and presented to him ; a copy of 
 which most interesting document is given 
 below : 
 
 " In Congress. We the delegates of the 
 United Colonies of New Hampshire, Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay, Rhode Island, Connecticut, 
 New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
 New Castle, Kent, and Sussex on Dela- 
 ware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, 
 and South Carolina, 
 
ADIEU TO THE AKMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 65 
 
 To Qdorge Washington, Esquire : 
 
 We, reposing special trust and confi- 
 dence in your patriotism, conduct, and 
 fidelity, do by these presents constitute and 
 appoint you to be GENERAL and COM- 
 MANDER-IN-CHIEF of the army of the 
 United Colonies, and of all the forces 
 raised or to be raised by them, and of all 
 others who shall voluntarily offer their 
 services and join the said army for the de- 
 fense of American liberty, and for repelling 
 every hostile invasion thereof. And you 
 are hereby invested with full power and 
 authority to act as you shall think for the 
 good and welfare of the service. 
 
 And we do hereby strictly charge and 
 require all officers and soldiers under your 
 command to be obedient to your orders, 
 and diligent in the exercise of their several 
 duties. 
 
 And we do also enjoin and require you 
 to be careful in executing the great trust 
 reposed in you, by causing strict discipline 
 and order to be observed in the army, and 
 that the soldiers are duly exercised and 
 provided with all convenient necessaries. 
 
 And you are to regulate your conduct in 
 every respect by the rules and discipline 
 of war, (as herewith given you,) arid punc- 
 tually to observe and follow such direc- 
 tions, from time to time, as you shall re- 
 ceive from this or a future Congress of the 
 said United Colonies, or a Committee of 
 Congress for that purpose appointed. 
 
 This commission to continue in force till 
 revoked by this or a future Congress. 
 By order of Congress. 
 
 JOHN HANCOCK, President. 
 Dated, Philadelphia, June 19, 1775. 
 Attest, CHARLES THOMSON, Secretary." 
 
 On the second day of July, 1775, Wash- 
 ington arrived in Cambridge, Massachu- 
 setts, accompanied by Major-General Lee, 
 his next in command, and other officers, 
 establishing his head-quarters at the man- 
 sion subsequently occupied by Longfellow, 
 the elegant scholar and poet. At about 
 nine o'clock on the morning of the next 
 day, Washington, attended by a suitable 
 escort, proceeded from his head-quarters to 
 a great elm tree one of the majestic na- 
 
 tives of the forest, near Harvard College, 
 and where the continental forces were 
 drawn up in military order. Under the 
 shadow of that wide-spreading tree, Wash- 
 ington, moving forward a few paces, drew 
 his sword as commander-in-chief of the 
 American army, declaring that it should 
 
 THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
 
 never be sheathed until the liberties of hia 
 country were established. The record of 
 his services is the history of the whole 
 war. Joining the army in Juty, 1775, he 
 compelled the British to evacuate Boston 
 in March, 1776; he then followed the 
 British to New York, fighting the battle 
 of Long Island on the twenty-seventh of 
 August, and that of White Plains on the 
 twenty-eighth of October. On the twenty- 
 fifth of December he made the memorable 
 passage of the Delaware, and soon gained 
 the victories of Trenton and Princeton. 
 The battle of Brandywine was fought on 
 the eleventh of September, 1777, and that 
 of Germantown, October fourth. Febru- 
 ary twenty-eighth, 1778, witnessed his 
 " glorious and happy day," as he himself 
 termed it, at Monmouth. In 1779 and 
 1780 he conducted the military operations 
 in the vicinity of New York ; after which, 
 in 1781, he marched to Virginia to watch 
 the movements of Lord Cornwallis, whom 
 he forced to surrender at Yorktown, in 
 October, by which great achievement he 
 put an end to the active operations of the 
 revolutionary struggle, and secured peace 
 and independence to his country. 
 
 With the return of peace, and the 
 achievement of independent nationality, 
 
CO 
 
 ADIEU TO THE AKMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 tlie wisdom and patriotism of Washington 
 were to be severely tested, and in a most 
 unexpected manner, in connection with the 
 form of government to be adopted by the 
 United States. The English government 
 was regarded by many of the strongest 
 American minds as, in most respects, a 
 model one ; and by many persons the En- 
 glish form of a constitutional monarchy 
 was decided, especially by some of the 
 army officers, to be the most promising, 
 and thus far the most successful, experi- 
 ment in government, and the oi< most 
 
 this scheme called a secret meeting, and 
 finally determined on the title of KING, 
 and Washington was informed of the fact. 
 He spurned the gilded bribe of a king's 
 crown, and promptly and sternly rebuked 
 the abettors of the scheme in the following 
 'letter addressed to their leader : 
 
 "Sir, With a mixture of great sur- 
 prise and astonishment, I have read with 
 attention the sentiments you have sub- 
 mitted to my perusal. Be assured, sir, 
 no occurrence in the course of this war has 
 given me more painful sensations than 
 
 likely to be adopted by America upon due 
 deliberation. Universal dissatisfaction was 
 felt with the proceedings and conduct of 
 congress as a governing power, and there- 
 fore some agency superior to that, and of 
 controlling prerogative, was proposed, a 
 head, like the English sovereign, with 
 proper safeguards against usurpation. 
 Circumstances, of course, indicated Wash- 
 ington as that head, and the next ques- 
 tion naturally arose under what official 
 title should such a head rule ? The c fficers 
 around Xewburgh who were associated in 
 
 your information of there being such ideas 
 existing in the army as you have expressed, 
 and which I must view with abhorrence 
 and reprehend with severity. For the 
 present, the communication of them will 
 rest in my own bosom, unless some further 
 agitation of the matter shall make a dis- 
 closure necessary. I am much at a loss to 
 conceive what part of my conduct could 
 have given encouragement to an address 
 which to me seems big with the greatest 
 mischiefs that can befall my country. If 
 I am not deceived in the knowledge of 
 
ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 67 
 
 myself, yon could not have found a person 
 to whom your schemes are more disagree- 
 able. At the same time, in justice to my 
 own feelings, I must add, that no man 
 possesses a more serious wish to see ample 
 justice done to the army than I do ; and, 
 as far as my power and influence, in a con- 
 stitutional way, extend, they shall be em- 
 ployed to the utmost of my abilities to 
 effect it, should there be any occasion. 
 Let me conjure you, then, if you have any 
 regard for your country, concern for your- 
 self or posterity, or respect for me, to 
 banish these thoughts from your mind, and 
 never communicate, as from yourself or 
 any one else, a sentiment of the like na- 
 ture." 
 
 In perfect keeping with the spirit in 
 which Washington treated the dazzling 
 offer thus so unexpectedly set before him, 
 was the simplicity of his conduct in bid- 
 ding adieu to his comrades-in-arms, and 
 then presenting himself before congress, 
 there to deliver up his sword, and volunta- 
 rily divest himself of the supreme com- 
 mand ; in the serene and thoughtful 
 phraseology of his own words, " to address 
 himself once more, and that for the last 
 time, to the armies of the United States, 
 however widely dispersed the individuals 
 who compose them may be, and to bid them 
 an affectionate and a long farewell." 
 
 For the last time, he assembled them at 
 Newburgh, when he rode out on the field, 
 and gave them one of those paternal ad- 
 dresses which so eminently characterized 
 his relationship with his army. To the 
 tune of " Roslin Castle," the soldier's 
 dirge, his brave comrades passed slowly 
 by their great leader, and filed away to their 
 respective homes. It was a thrilling scene. 
 There were gray-headed soldiers, who had 
 grown old by hardships and exposures, and 
 too old to begin life anew ; tears coursed 
 freely the furrowed cheeks of these veter- 
 ans. Among the thousands passing in 
 review before him were those, also, who 
 had done valorous service when the destiny 
 of the country hung tremblingly in the 
 balance. As Washington looked upon 
 them for the last time, he said, " I am 
 
 growing old in my country's service, and 
 losing my sight ; but I never doubted its 
 justice or gratitude." Even on the rudest 
 and roughest of the soldiery, the effect of 
 his parting language was irresistible. 
 
 On the fourth of December, 1783, by 
 Washington's request, his officers, in full 
 uniform, assembled in Fraunces's tavern, 
 New York, to take a final leave of their 
 commander-in-chief. On entering the 
 room, and finding himself surrounded by 
 his old companions-in-arms, who had 
 shared with him so many scenes of hard- 
 ship, difficulty, and danger, his agitated 
 feelings overcame his usual self-command. 
 Every man arose with eyes turned towards 
 him. Filling a glass of wine, and lifting it 
 to his lips, he rested his benignant but sad- 
 dened countenance upon them, and said, 
 
 "With a heart full of love and grati- 
 tude, I now take leave of you. I most de- 
 voutly wish that your latter days may be 
 as prosperous as your former ones have 
 been honorable and glorious." Having 
 drunk, he added, " I cannot come to each 
 of you to take my leave, but shall be 
 obliged to you, if each of you will come 
 and take me by the hand." A profound 
 silence followed, as each officer gazed on 
 the countenance of their leader, while the 
 eyes of all were wet with tears. He then 
 expressed again his desire that each of 
 them should come and take him by the 
 hand. The first, being nearest to him, 
 was General Knox, who grasped his hand 
 in silence, and both embraced each other 
 without uttering a word. One after an- 
 other followed, receiving and returning the 
 affectionate adieu of their commander, 
 after which he left the room in silence, 
 followed by his officers in procession, to 
 embark in the barge that was to convey 
 him to Paulus's Hook, now Jersey City. 
 As he was passing through the light in- 
 fantry drawn up on either side to receive 
 him, an old soldier, who was by his side 
 on the terrible night of his march to 
 Trenton, stepped out from the ranks, and 
 reaching out his arms, exclaimed, "Fare- 
 well, my dear general, farewell! " Wash- 
 ington seized his hand most heartily, when 
 
68 
 
 ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 the soldiers forgot all discipline, rushed 
 towards their chief, and bathed him with 
 their tears. The scene was like that of a 
 good patriarch taking leave of his children, 
 and going on a long journey, from whence 
 he might return no more. 
 
 Having entered the barge, he turned to 
 the weeping company upon the wharf, and 
 waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. 
 They stood with heads uncovered, until 
 the barge was hidden from their view, 
 when, in silent and solemn procession, they 
 returned to the place where they had as- 
 sembled. Congress was at this time in 
 session at Annapolis, Maryland, to which 
 place Washington now proceeded, greeted 
 along his whole route with enthusiastic 
 homage, for the purpose of formally resign- 
 ing his commission. He arrived on the 
 nineteenth of December, 1783, and the 
 next day he informed congress of the pur- 
 pose for which he had come, and requested 
 to know whether it would be their pleas- 
 ure that he should offer his resignation in 
 writing, or at an audience. A committee 
 was appointed by congress, and it was de- 
 cided that on Tuesday, December twenty- 
 third, the ceremonial should take place as 
 follows : 
 
 The president and members are to be 
 seated and covered, and the secretary to 
 be standing by the side of the president ; 
 the arrival of the general to be announced 
 by the messenger to the secretary, who is 
 thereupon to introduce the general, at- 
 tended by his aids, into the hall of con- 
 gress ; the general, being conducted to a 
 chair by the secretary, is to be seated, with 
 an aid on each side standing, and the 
 secretary is to resume his place. After a 
 proper time for the arrangement of spec- 
 tators, silence is to be ordered by the sec- 
 retar}', if necessary, and the president ii to 
 address the general in the following 
 words : " Sir, The United States in con- 
 gress assembled are prepared to receive your 
 communications." Whereupon the gen- 
 eral is to arise and address congress ; after 
 which he is to deliver his commission and 
 a copy of his address to" the president. 
 The general having resumed his place, the 
 
 president is to deliver the answer of con- 
 gress, which the general is to receive 
 standing; the president having finished, 
 the secretary is to deliver the general a 
 copy of the answer, and the general is then 
 to take his leave. When the general rises 
 to make his address, and also when he 
 retires, he is to bow to congress, which 
 they are to return by uncovering without 
 bowing. 
 
 When the hour arrived, the president, 
 General Mifflin, informed him that that 
 body was prepared to receive his commu- 
 nications. With a native dignity, height- 
 ened by the solemnity of the occasion, the 
 general rose. In a brief and appropriate 
 speech he offered his congratulations on 
 the termination of the war, and having 
 alluded to his object in appearing thus in 
 that presence, that he might resign into 
 the hands of congress the trust committed 
 to him, and claim the indulgence of retir- 
 ing from the public service, he concluded 
 with those affecting words, which drew 
 tears from the eyes of all in that vast as- 
 sembly : 
 
 " I consider it an indispensable duty to 
 close this last act of my official life, by 
 commending the interests of our dearest 
 country to the protection of Almighty 
 God, and those who have the superintend- 
 ence of them, to his holy keeping. Having 
 now finished the work assigned me, I 
 retire from the theater of action, and, 
 bidding an affectionate farewell to this 
 august body, under whose orders I have so 
 long acted, I here offer my commission, 
 and take my leave of all the employments 
 of public life." 
 
 After advancing to the chair, and deliv- 
 ering his commission to the president, he 
 returned to his place, and remained stand- 
 ing, while General Mifflin replied, review- 
 ing the great career thus brought to a 
 close, and saying, in conclusion : 
 
 " The glory of your virtues will not ter- 
 minate with your military command ; it 
 will continue to animate the remotest ages. 
 We join with you in commending the in- 
 terests of our country to Almighty God, 
 beseeching Him to dispose the hearts and 
 
ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY WASHINGTON. 
 
 69 
 
 minds of its citizens to improve the op- 
 portunity afforded them of becoming 
 a happy and respectable nation. And 
 for you, we address to Him our warm- 
 est prayers, that a life so beloved may 
 
 be fostered with all His care, that your 
 days may be as happy as they have been 
 illustrious, and that He will finally give 
 you that reward which this world cannot 
 bestow." 
 
i 
 
 VII. 
 
 APPOINTMENT OF THE FIRST MINISTER PLENIPOTEN- 
 TIARY, FROM THE NEW REPUBLIC TO THE 
 
 ENGLISH COURT. 1785. 
 
 John Adams, America's Sturdiest Patriot, and the Foremost Enemy of British Tyranny, Fills this 
 High Office. Interview between Him and King George, His Late Sovereign. Their Addresses, 
 Temper, Personal Bearing, and Humorous Conversation. The Two Men Rightly Matched Against 
 Each Other. Old Animosities Unhealed Mutual Charges of False Dealing. Settlement Demanded 
 by the United States. What Adams's Mission Involved. Dismemberment of the British Realm. 
 Loss of the Fairest Possession. Bitter Pill for the King. His Obstinacy Forced to Yield. Humilia- 
 tion of the Proud Monarch. All Europe Watches the Event Mr. Adams Presented at Court Pa- 
 triot and King Face to Face. Official Address by the Minister. Reply of King George. His Visi- 
 ible Agitation. Adams's Presence of Mind. Pays His Homage to the Queen Her Majesty's Re- 
 sponse Civilities by the Royal Family. Results of this Embassy. Pitiable Position of George the 
 Third. Fatal Error of Great Britain. 
 
 M I murt BYOW to your majesty, I haye no attachment but to my own country." JOHW ADAMS TO KINO GEOBGB. 
 " An honeat man will have no other." THS Ki.vo's lysTAirr RBPLT. 
 
 O deep-seated and festering were 
 the old animosities between Amer- 
 = ica and the mother country, that, 
 scarcely had the war of the revo- 
 - lution terminated, when the two 
 nations reciprocally charged each 
 other with violating the treaty of 
 peace. The United States were 
 accused of having infringed those 
 articles which contained agree- 
 ments respecting the payment of 
 debts, the confiscation of property, 
 and prosecution of individuals for the part taken by them during the war. On the 
 other hand, the English were charged with violating that article which stipulated 
 against the destruction or carrying away of any description of American property; 
 the king was also complained of, for still retaining possession of the posts on the 
 American side of the great lakes, thus influencing the Indian tribes to hostility; 
 and, above all other sources and causes of complaint, in the conduct of Great Britain, 
 was her rigorous and restrictive commercial system. 
 
 These growing misunderstandings between the two countries, discussed with such 
 angry vehemence on both sides, threatened such serious consequences should their adjust- 
 ment be much longer delayed, that congress determined upon the important step of 
 
 AMITV BETWEEN ENGLAND AND AMERICA. 
 
FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 71 
 
 appointing, after the mcinner of independ- 
 ent nations, a Minister Plenipotentiary to 
 the court of Great Britain! 
 
 In February, 1785, John Adams was 
 duly accredited ambassador, to represent 
 the United States at that court. 
 
 That George the Third was as obstinate 
 a man as ever ruled a kingdom, no histo- 
 rian has ever questioned. Having struck 
 at the rights and liberties of America, in 
 order to add to the riches of his coffers, 
 nothing could turn him from his determin- 
 
 ation to rule, or to ruin and destroy. To 
 the suggestion that the king's rule over 
 the colonies might be slightly softened or 
 modified, Lord North despairingly replied : 
 "It is to no purpose the making objec- 
 tions, for the king will have it so." But 
 in no more forcible phrase could the king's 
 arbitrary temper concerning his colonies 
 be shown, that in that which fell from his 
 own lips, in the presence of the new en- 
 voy, namely, " / was the last man in the 
 kingdom, sir, to consent to the independ- 
 ence of America." 
 
 Of all the opponents of British misrule, 
 in the western world, John Adams was 
 the earliest, ablest, most intrepid and un- 
 tiring. It was John Adams, who, in 
 
 1775, in the memorable continental con- 
 gress, at Philadelphia, suggested George 
 Washington as commander-in-chief of the 
 army that was to wage war against Great 
 Britain and, even before this crowning 
 act, had sent across the Atlantic, ringing 
 into the ears of the haughty monarch, the 
 epithets tyrant and usurper. 
 
 The kingly ceremony of acknowledging 
 the colonies independent took place, in con- 
 formity with previous arrangements, on 
 the fifth of December, 1782, in the house 
 of lords. The scene was one which 
 drew together an immense and won- 
 dering crowd of spectators, conspicu- 
 ous among whom was the celebrated 
 admiral Lord Howe, who had just re- 
 turned from a successful relief of 
 Gibraltar, and who had now elbowed 
 himself exactly in front of the throne, 
 to listen, sadly, to his country's hu- 
 miliation. The ladies of the nobility 
 occupied the lords' seats on the wool- 
 sacks, so called, as an emblem of the 
 power and wealth of old England, 
 because it had been mainly derived 
 from wool. The lords were standing 
 here and there promiscuously. It 
 was a dark and foggy day, and the 
 windows being elevated and con- 
 structed in the antiquated style, with 
 leaden bars to contain the diamond- 
 cut panes of glass, augmented the 
 gloom. The walls were also hung 
 with dark tapestry, representing the de- 
 feat of the great Spanish armada. The 
 celebrated American painters, West and 
 Copley, were in the throng, with some 
 American ladies, also a number of dejected- 
 looking American royalists. After a 
 tedious suspense of nearly two hours, the 
 approach of the king was announced by a 
 tremendous roar of artillery. He entered 
 by a small door on the left of the throne, 
 and immediately seated himself in the chair 
 of state, in a graceful attitude, with his 
 right foot resting on a stool. He was 
 clothed in the magnificent robes of British 
 majesty. Evidently agitated, he drew 
 slowly from his pocket a scroll containing 
 his humbling speech. The commons were 
 
72 
 
 FIEST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 summoned, and, after the bustle of their 
 entrance had subsided, the thrilling mo- 
 ment arrived, when the speech was to be 
 read. After some general remarks, usual 
 on public occasions, he said : 
 
 " I lost no time in giving the necessary 
 orders to prohibit the further prosecution 
 of offensive war upon the continent of 
 North America. Adopting, as my inclin- 
 ation will always lead me to do, with de- 
 cision and effect, whatever I collect to be 
 the sense of my parliament and my people, 
 I have pointed all my views and measures, 
 in Europe, as in North America, to an 
 entire and cordial reconciliation with the 
 colonies. Finding it indispensable to the 
 attainment of this object, I did not hesi- 
 tate to go to the full length of the power 
 vested in me, and therefore I now declare 
 them " here he paused, in evident agita- 
 tion, either embarrassed in reading his 
 speech, by the darkness of the room, or 
 affected by a very natural emotion, but, 
 recovering himself in a moment by a 
 strong convulsive movement, he added 
 "free and independent states. In thus 
 admitting their separation from the crown 
 of this kingdom, I have sacrificed every 
 consideration of my own, to the wishes and 
 opinions of my people. I make it my 
 humble and ardent prayer to Almighty 
 God, that Great Britain may not feel the 
 evils which might result from so great a 
 dismemberment of the empire, and that 
 America may be free from the calamities 
 which have formerly proved, in the mother 
 country, how essential monarchy is to the 
 enjoyment of constitutional liberty. Re- 
 ligion, language, interests, and affection 
 may, and I hope will, yet prove a bond of 
 permanent union between the two coun- 
 tries." 
 
 It was universally remarked of King 
 George, that, though celebrated for read- 
 ing his speeches in a distinct, composed, 
 and impressive manner, he was on this 
 occasion painfully lacking in his usual 
 self-possession ; he hesitated, choked, and 
 executed the high but humbling duties of 
 the occasion, in a manner which showed 
 that he was deeply mortified. 
 
 Mr. Adams was at Paris when he re- 
 ceived information of his appointment, in 
 1785, to confront his late king and royal 
 master. In an account given by Mr. 
 Adams himself, of his movements at this 
 time, he says : At Versailles, the Count 
 de Vergennes said he had many felicita- 
 tions to give me upon my appointment to 
 England. I answered that I did not 
 know but it merited compassion more than 
 felicitation. " Ay, why ? " " Because, as 
 you know, it is a species of degradation, in 
 the eyes of Europe, after having been ac- 
 credited to the king of France, to be sent 
 to any other court." 
 
 "But permit me to say," replies the 
 count, "it is a great thing to be the first 
 ambassador from your country to the 
 country you sprang from. It is a mark." 
 
 One of the foreign ambassadors said to 
 me 
 
 " You have been often in England." 
 
 " Never, but once in November and De- 
 cember, 1783." 
 
 " You have relations in England, no 
 doubt." 
 
 " None at all." 
 
 " None, how can that be ? you are of 
 English extraction." 
 
 "Neither my father or mother, grand- 
 father or grandmother, great grandfather 
 or great grandmother, nor any other rela- 
 tion that I know of, or care a farthing for, 
 has been in England these one hundred 
 and fifty years ; so that you see I have not 
 one drop of blood in my veins but what is 
 American." 
 
 " Ay, we have seen proof enough of 
 that." 
 
 In the month of May, Mr. Adams trans- 
 ferred himself and family to the other side 
 of the channel, prepared to undertake the 
 new duties to which he had been ap- 
 pointed. The first thing to be done was 
 to go through the ceremony of presenta- 
 tion to the sovereign ; to stand face to face 
 with the man whom he had for the first 
 forty years of his life habitually regarded 
 as his master, and who never ceased to 
 regard him, and the rest of his country- 
 men, as no better than successful rebels 
 
FIEST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 against his legitimate authority. In his 
 dispatch to Mr. Jay, then American secre- 
 tary of foreign affairs, Mr. Adams gave 
 the following very interesting account of 
 this meeting : 
 
 At one o'clock on Wednesday, the first 
 of June, 1785, the master of ceremonies 
 called at my house, and went with me to the 
 secretary of state's office, in Cleveland Row, 
 where the Marquis of Carmarthen received 
 and introduced me to Mr. Frazier, his 
 under secretary, who had been, as his 
 
 attended by the master of ceremonies, the 
 room was very full of ministers of state, 
 bishops, and all other sorts of courtiers, aa 
 well as the next room, which is the king's 
 bed-chamber. You may well suppose I 
 was the focus of all eyes. I was relieved, 
 however, from the embarrassment of it, by 
 the Swedish and Dutch ministers, who 
 came to me and entertained me with a very 
 agreeable conversation during the whole 
 time. Some other gentlemen, whom I 
 had seen before, came to make their com- 
 
 FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. RECKPTION OF JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 lordship said, uninterruptedly in that office, 
 through all the changes in administration, 
 for thirty years. After a short conversa- 
 tion, Lord Carmarthen invited me to go 
 with him in his coach to court. When we 
 arrived in the ante-chamber, the master of 
 ceremonies introduced him, and attended 
 me while the secretary of state went to 
 take the commands of the king. While I 
 stood in this place, where it seems all min- 
 isters stand upon such occasions, always 
 
 pliments to me, until the Marquis of Car- 
 marthen returned and desired me to go with 
 him to his majesty. I went with his 
 lordship through the levee room into the 
 king's closet. The door was shut, and I 
 was left with his majesty and the secretary 
 of state alone. I made the three rever- 
 ences : one at the door, another about half- 
 way, and another before the presence, 
 according to the usage established at this 
 and all the northern courts of Europe, and 
 
74 
 
 FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 then I addressed myself to his majesty in 
 the following words : 
 
 "SiRE: The United States have ap- 
 pointed me minister plenipotentiary to 
 your majesty, and have directed me to 
 deliver to your majesty this letter, which 
 contains the evidence of it. It is in obe- 
 
 dience to their express commands, that I 
 have the honor to assure your majesty of 
 their unanimous disposition and desire to 
 cultivate the most friendly and liberal in- 
 tercourse between your majesty's subjects 
 and their citizens, and of their best wishes 
 for your majesty's health and happiness, 
 and for that of your family. 
 
 The appointment of a minister from the 
 United States to your majesty's court will 
 form an epoch in the history of England 
 and America. I think myself more fortu- 
 nate than all my fellow-citizens, in having 
 the distinguished honor to be the first to 
 stand in your majesty's royal presence in 
 a diplomatic character, and I shall esteem 
 myself the happiest of men, if I can be 
 instrumental in recommending my country 
 more and more to your majesty's royal 
 benevolence, and of restoring an entire 
 esteem, confidence, and affection ; or, in 
 better words, ' the old good nature and the 
 good old humor,' between people who, 
 though separated by an ocean, and under 
 different governments, have the same lan- 
 guage, a similar religion, a kindred blood. 
 I beg your majesty's permission to add, 
 
 that, although I have sometimes before 
 been instructed by my country, it was 
 never in my whole life in a manner so 
 agreeable to myself." 
 
 The king listened to every word I said, 
 with dignity, it is true, but with apparent 
 emotion. Whether it was my visible agi- 
 tation, for I felt more than I could ex- 
 r ' 
 
 press, that touched him, I cannot say ; 
 but he was much affected, and answered 
 me with more tremor than I had spoken 
 with, and said 
 
 " SIR : The circumstances of this audi- 
 ence are so extraordinary, the language 
 you have now held is so extremely proper, 
 and the feelings you have discovered so 
 justly adapted to the occasion, that I not 
 only receive with pleasure the assurance 
 of the friendly disposition of the United 
 States, but I am glad the choice has fallen 
 upon you to be their minister. I wish you, 
 sir, to believe, that it may be understood 
 in America, that I have done nothing in 
 the late contest but what I thought myself 
 indispensably bound to do, by the duty 
 which I owed my people. I will be frank 
 with you. I was the last to conform to 
 the separation ; but the separation having 
 become inevitable, I have always said, as I 
 now say, that I would be the first to meet 
 the friendship of the United States as an 
 independent power. The moment I see 
 such sentiments and language as yours 
 prevail, and a disposition to give this 
 country the preference, that moment I 
 shall say, let the circumstances of lan- 
 guage, religion, and blood, have their nat- 
 ural, full effect." 
 
 The king then asked me whether I 
 came last from France ; upon my answer- 
 ing in the affirmative, he put on an air of 
 familiarity, and, smiling, or rather laugh- 
 ing, said 
 
 " There is an opinion among some peo- 
 ple that you are not the most attached of 
 all your countrymen to the manners of 
 France." 
 
 " That opinion, sir, is not mistaken ; 1 
 must avow to your majesty, I have no at~ 
 tachment but to my own country." 
 
 The king replied as quick as lightning 
 
FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 75 
 
 "An honest man will have no other." 
 
 The king then said a word or two to 
 the secretary of state, which, being be- 
 tween them, I did not hear, and then 
 turned round and bowed to me, as is 
 customary with all kings and princes 
 when they give the signal to retire. I 
 retreated, stepping backwards, as is the 
 etiquette, and making my last reverence 
 at the door of the chamber. 
 
 Mr. Adams was yet to pay his first 
 court of homage to the queen. He was 
 presented to her on the ninth of June, 
 by Lord Allesbury, her lord-chamber- 
 lain, having first been attended to his 
 lordship and introduced to him by the 
 master of the ceremonies. The queen 
 was accompanied by her ladies-in-wait- 
 ing, and Mr. Adams made his compli- 
 ments to her majesty in the following 
 words : 
 
 "MADAM, Among the many circum- 
 stances which have rendered my mission 
 to his majesty desirable to me, I have 
 ever considered it a principal one, that I 
 should have an opportunity of paying 
 my court to a great queen, whose royal 
 virtues and talents have ever been ac- 
 knowledged and admired in America, as 
 well as in all the nations of Europe, as 
 an example to princesses and the glory of 
 her sex. 
 
 Permit me, madam, to recommend to 
 your majesty's royal goodness a rising em- 
 pire and an infant virgin world. 
 
 Another Europe, madam, is rising in 
 America. To a philosophical mind, like 
 your majesty's, there cannot be a more 
 pleasing contemplation, than the prospect 
 of doubling the human species, and aug- 
 menting, at the same time, their prosper- 
 ity and happiness. It will, in future ages, 
 be the glory of these kingdoms to have 
 peopled that country, and to have sown 
 there those seeds of science, of liberty, of 
 virtue, and permit me, madam, to add, of 
 piety, which alone constitute the prosper- 
 ity of nations and the happiness of the 
 human race. 
 
 After venturing upon such high insinu- 
 ations to your majesty, it seems to be 
 
 descending too far, to ask, as I do, your 
 majesty's royal indulgence to a person who 
 is indeed unqualified for courts, and who 
 owes his elevation to this distinguished 
 honor of standing before your majesty, not 
 to any circumstances of illustrious birth, 
 fortune, or abilities, but merely te an 
 ardent devotion to his native country, and 
 some little industry and perseverance in 
 her service." 
 
 To this address of Mr. Adams, the 
 queen answered, in the accustomed royal 
 brevity, as follows : 
 
 " I thank you, sir, for your civilities to 
 me and my family, and am glad to see 
 you in this country." 
 
 The queen then asked Mr. Adams if he 
 had provided himself with a house, to 
 which question answer was made that he 
 had agreed for one that morning. She 
 then made her courtesy, and the envoy 
 made his reverence, retiring at once into 
 the drawing-room, where the king, queen, 
 princess royal, and the younger princess, 
 her sister, all spoke to the new minister 
 very courteously. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the memorable 
 historical bearings of this mission of the 
 great American statesman, as first ambas- 
 sador of the new-born republic, to his late 
 august sovereign, a mission which riveted 
 the attention of the civilized world, and 
 although George the Third had submitted 
 with dignity to the painful necessity of 
 such a meeting, the embassy was attended 
 with no permanently favorable result either 
 to America or to Mr. Adams. Indeed, of 
 the many humiliations which befell the 
 unhappy George, perhaps few were felt so 
 bitterly as this almost compulsory inter- 
 view with the representative of a people, 
 once his subjects, afterwards rebels, and 
 now free. 
 
 Well and truthfully has the historian 
 said, that, in the conduct of the king, 
 on this occasion, the obvious wisdom of 
 conciliating the young and rising nation 
 on the western side of the Atlantic was 
 forgotten, and the error of supercilious 
 neglect was preferred. Throughout the 
 whole political history of Great Britain 
 
76 
 
 FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. 
 
 this marked fault may be traced in its 
 relations with foreign nations, but it 
 never showed itself in more striking col- 
 ors than during the first half century 
 
 after the independence of the United 
 States. The effects of the mistake then 
 committed have been perceptible ever 
 since. 
 
VIII. 
 
 FORMATION AND ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTI- 
 TUTION. 1787. 
 
 The United States no Longer a People Without a Government. Establishment of the Republic on a 
 Permanent Foundation of Unity, Organic Law and National Polity. Dignity, Learning, and Elo- 
 quence of the Delegates. Sublime Scene on Signing the Instrument. Extraordinary Character of 
 the Whole Transaction. State of Things After the War. Financial Embarrassment. Despondency 
 of the People. Grave Crisis in Public Affairs. A Grand Movement Initiated. Plan of Government 
 to be Framed. All the States in Convention. Washington Chosen to Preside. Statesmen and Sages 
 in Council. The Old Compact Abrogated. New Basis of Union Proposed. Various Schemes Dis- 
 cussed. Jealousy of the Smaller States. Angry Debates, Sectional Threats. Bad Prospects of the 
 Convention. Its Dissolution Imminent. Franklin's Impressive Appeal. Compromise and Concilia- 
 tion. Final System Agreed Upon. Patriotism Rules all Hearts. Ratification by the States. Na- 
 tional Joy at the Decision. 
 
 " Should the states reject thii excellent Constitution, the probability is that an opportunity will never again be offered to cancel another in 
 peace the next will be drawn in blood." REMARK OF WASHINGTON OK SIGNING TUB CONSTITUTION. 
 
 ESROLLIXO THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 HOUGH the close of the 
 war of independence 
 resulted in the establish- 
 ment of a free national- 
 ity, it nevertheless 
 brought anxious solici- 
 tude to every patriot's 
 mind, and this state of 
 apprehension and disqui- 
 etude increased with each 
 succeeding year. The 
 state debts which had 
 been incurred in anticipation of prosperous times, operated severely, after a while, on 
 all classes in the community; to meet the payment of these debts, at maturity, was 
 impossible, and every relief-act only added to the difficulty. This, and kindred 
 troubles, financial and governmental, impressed the people with the gloomy conviction 
 that the great work of independence, as contemplated in the revolutionary struggle, 
 was only half done. It was felt that, above all things, a definite and organic form 
 of government reflecting the will of the people should be fixed upon, to give energy 
 to national power, and success to individual and public enterprise. So portentous a 
 crisis as this formed another epoch for the display of the intellectual and political 
 attainments of American statesmen, and the ordeal was one through which they passed 
 with the highest honor, and with ever-enduring fame, at home and abroad. New men 
 appeared on the stage of legislative council and action, and it was found that the quan- 
 
78 
 
 FOKMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 tity of talent and information necessary in 
 the formation period of a new republic 
 had greatly increased in the various states. 
 But, in especial, the great minds that 
 achieved the revolution beheld with deep 
 concern their country impoverished and 
 distracted at home, and of no considera- 
 tion among the family of nations. 
 
 A change was now to be wrought, the 
 grandeur of which would be acknowledged 
 throughout all lands, and its importance 
 reach forward to the setting of the sun of 
 time. The same hall which had resounded 
 with words of patriotic defiance that shook 
 the throne of King George and proclaimed 
 to an astonished world the Declaration of 
 Independence, that same hall in which 
 congress had continued to sit during the 
 greater part of the momentous period in- 
 tervening, in the state house at Phila- 
 delphia, was soon to witness the assem- 
 bling of such a body of men as, in point of 
 intellectual talent, personal integrity, and 
 lofty purpose, had perhaps never before 
 been brought together. The curious stu- 
 dent of this page in modern history has 
 sometimes plausibly but speciously attrib- 
 uted to mere chance instead of to that 
 Providence which rules in the affairs of 
 men this timely and grand event. Thus, 
 General Washington, having contemplated 
 with great interest a plan for uniting the 
 Potomac and the Ohio rivers, and by this 
 means connecting the eastern and western 
 waters, made a journey of six hundred and 
 eighty miles on horseback, taking minute 
 notes of everything which could be subserv- 
 ient to this project. His influence, and 
 the real importance pf the design, induced 
 the legislatures of Virginia and Maryland 
 to send commissioners to Alexandria to 
 deliberate on the subject. They met in 
 March, 1785, and having spent some time 
 at Mount Vernon, determined to recom- 
 mend another commission, which might 
 establish a general tariff on imports. The 
 Virginia legislature not only agreed, but 
 invited the other states to send deputies 
 to meet at Annapolis. In September, 
 1786, they had arrived from five only, and 
 with too limited powers. A number of 
 
 able statesmen, however, were thus assem- 
 bled, who, feeling deeply the depressed 
 and distracted state of the country, became 
 sensible that something on a much greater 
 scale was necessary to raise her to pros- 
 perity, and give her a due place among 
 the nations. They therefore drew up a 
 report and address to all the states, 
 strongly representing the inefficiency of 
 the present federal government, and earn- 
 estly urging them to send delegates to 
 meet at Philadelphia in May, 1787. Con- 
 gress responded to this proceeding in Feb- 
 ruary, by the passage of resolutions rec- 
 ommending the proposed measure, but of 
 which, perhaps, they did not then contem- 
 plate all the momentous results. 
 
 On the day appointed for the meeting 
 of the convention, May fourteenth, 1787, 
 only a small number of the delegates had 
 arrived in Philadelphia. The delibera- 
 tions did not commence, therefore, until 
 May twenty-fifth, when there were pres- 
 ent twenty-nine members, representing 
 nine states. Others soon after came in, 
 till the whole number amounted to fifty- 
 five. Never, perhaps, had any body of 
 men combined for so great a purpose to 
 form a constitution which was to rule so 
 numerous a people, and probably during 
 so many generations. The members, con- 
 sisting of the very ablest men in America, 
 were not unworthy of, nor unequal to, so 
 high a trust. 
 
 Towering above all these men of might, 
 in his world-wide fame and in the genius 
 of his personal ascendency, was Washing- 
 ton, intrusted by the commonwealth of 
 Virginia with the work of cementing to- 
 gether the sisterhood of states in one in- 
 dissoluble bond of mutual interest, co-ope- 
 ration, and renown. And there was Eufus 
 King, from Massachusetts, young in years, 
 but mature in wisdom and brilliant in ora- 
 tory; Langdon, from New Hampshire, 
 strong in his understanding and readily 
 mastering the most intricate details ; El- 
 bridge Gerry, of Massachusetts, exhibiting 
 the utmost zeal and fidelity in the per- 
 formance of his official duties; Caleb 
 Strong, from the same state, plain in his 
 
FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 79 
 
 CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA, 1787. 
 
 appearance, but calm, firm, intelligent, and 
 well-balanced; Ellsworth, from Connecti- 
 cut, elegant in his manners, and distin- 
 guished for his energy of mind, clear 
 reasoning powers, and effective eloquence ; 
 Sherman, his colleague, a statesman and 
 jurist whose fame has extended far beyond 
 the western world; Hamilton, from New 
 York, spare and fragile in person, but 
 keen, active, laborious, transcendent in 
 his abilities and of unsullied integrity; 
 Livingston, from New Jersey, of scholarly 
 tastes, uncompromisingly republican in his 
 politics, and fearless in the expression of 
 his opinions; Franklin, from Pennsylvania, 
 one of the profoundest philosophers in the 
 world, and, though now rising of four- 
 score years, capable of grasping and throw- 
 ing light upon the most recondite ques- 
 tions relating to the science of govern- 
 ment ; Kobert Morris, from Pennsylvania, 
 the great financier, of whom it has been 
 said, and with much truth, that 'the 
 Americans owed, and still owe, as much 
 acknowledgment to the financial operations 
 of Eobert Morris, as to the negotiations of 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, or even to the arms 
 of George Washington ; ' Gouverneur 
 Morris, from the same state, conspicuous 
 for his accomplishments in learning, his 
 fluent conversation, and sterling abilities 
 in debate ; Clymer, distinguished among 
 the sons of Pennsylvania, as one of the 
 first to raise a defiant voice against the 
 arbitrary acts of the mother country ; 
 Mifflin, another delegate from the land of 
 Penn, ardent almost beyond discretion, in 
 zeal for his country's rights and liberties ; 
 Dickinson, from New Jersey, a patriot, 
 who, though the only member of the con- 
 tinental congress opposed to the Declara- 
 tion of Independence, on the ground of its 
 being premature, was nevertheless the only 
 member of that body who immediately 
 shouldered his musket and went forth to 
 face the enemy ; Wythe, from Virginia, 
 wise, grave, deeply versed in the law, and 
 undaunted in the defense of liberty for the 
 the people; Madison, also from Virginia, 
 talented, thoughtful, penetrating, one of 
 the brightest ornaments of his state and 
 nation; Martin, from Maryland, a jurist 
 
80 
 
 FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 of vast attainments and commanding 
 powers; Davie, from North Carolina, of 
 splendid physique, one of the master-minds 
 of the country ; Rutledge, from South Car- 
 olina, pronounced by Washington *o be 
 the finest orator in the continental con- 
 gress; Pinckney, from the same state, 
 a soldier and lawyer of unrivaled abili- 
 ties; and thus the record might go on, 
 until it embraced all the names of this 
 eminent assemblage of America's noblest 
 patriots and most illustrious historic char- 
 acters, "all, all, honorable men." 
 
 On proceeding with the organization of 
 the convention, George Washington was 
 nominated by Robert Morris to preside 
 over its deliberations, and was unanimously 
 elected. The standing rules were then 
 adopted, one of these being that nothing 
 spoken in the house be printed or other- 
 wise published, or made known in any 
 manner, without special permission. And 
 in this connection, the following little epi- 
 sode, which has come to light, will doubt- 
 less be read as a refreshing reminiscence 
 of the " secret " doings among those grave 
 old worthies : 
 
 One of the members of the Georgia del- 
 egation was Mr. , a gentleman, the 
 
 zeal of whose legislative mind and efforts 
 sometimes quite ate up his attention to 
 mere extraneous matters. Like all the 
 rest of his associates in the assembly, he 
 had been furnished with a schedule of the 
 principal points of debate, or subjects of 
 consideration, which were to be brought 
 before the convention as constituting its 
 business, and, in accordance with the par- 
 liamentary usage of secrecy, this pro- 
 gramme of the convention's duties and 
 deliberations was with especial care to be 
 kept from disclosure during the period of 
 '*;s sittings. It happened, however, that 
 one of the delegates unfortunately lost his 
 copy of this official schedule or orders of 
 the day. General Mifflin, one of the del- 
 egates from Pennsjdvania, by good chance 
 discovered the stray document, and, ex- 
 plaining the circumstances to Washing- 
 ton, placed it in the latter's hands, who, 
 in silence and gravity, deposited it among 
 
 his own papers. At the close of that day's 
 proceedings, and just previously to the 
 convention's rising, Washington, as pre- 
 siding officer, called the attention of the 
 assembly to the matter in question, in the 
 following characteristic remarks : 
 
 " Gentlemen, I am sorry to find that 
 some one member of this body has been so 
 neglectful of the secrets of this convention, 
 as to drop in the state house a copy of 
 their proceedings which, by accident, was 
 picked up and delivered to me this morn- 
 ing I must entreat gentlemen to be 
 more careful, lest our transactions get into 
 the newspapers, and disturb the public 
 repose by premature speculations. I know 
 not whose paper it is, but there it is 
 (throwing it down on the table) ; let him 
 who owns it take it." 
 
 But to proceed with the historical 
 sketch of this most august body of modern 
 legislators. 
 
 They had been appointed merely with a 
 view to the revision or improvement of the 
 old articles of confederation, which still 
 held them precariously together as a na- 
 tion ; yet they had not deliberated long, 
 when they determined that the existing 
 compact or system of government must be 
 swept away. The question, however, as to 
 what should be substituted in its place, was 
 one of extreme difficulty. Mr. Randolph, of 
 Virginia, opened the great discussion by a 
 speech in which he laid bare the defects of 
 the confederation, and then submitted a 
 series of resolutions embodying the sub- 
 stance of a plan of government the same, 
 in character, as that contained in letters 
 written by Mr. Madison to Mr. Jefferson, 
 Mr. Randolph, and General Washington, 
 a few months previous. 
 
 The plan in question proposed the form- 
 ation of a general government, consti- 
 tuted as follows : The national legislature 
 to consist of two branches the members 
 of the first branch to be elected by the 
 people of the several states, and the 
 members of the second branch to be elected 
 by the first branch, out of a proper number 
 nominated by the state legislatures; the 
 national legislature to have a negative on 
 
FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 81 
 
 all the state laws contravening the articles 
 of union, and to have power to legislate in 
 all cases where the states were incompe- 
 tent ; the right of suffrage in the legisla- 
 ture to be proportioned to the quota of 
 contribution, or to the number of free in- 
 habitants; a national executive to be 
 chosen by the national legislature ; a na- 
 tional judiciary, to consist of one or more 
 supreme tribunals and inferior ones, the 
 judges to be chosen by the national legis- 
 lature ; the executive, and a convenient 
 number of the national judiciary, to com- 
 
 FKASKLIX PLEAD1XG FOB PACIFICATION. 
 
 pose a council of revision to examine every 
 act of the national legislature before it 
 should operate, and every act of a particu- 
 lar legislature before a negative thereon 
 should be final ; provision to be made for 
 the admission of new states to the Union ; 
 a republican form of government to be 
 administered in each state ; provision to 
 be made for amendments to the articles of 
 union ; the legislative, executive, and judi- 
 ciary powers, or officials, of the several 
 states, to be bound by oath to support the 
 
 articles of union. 
 
 6 
 
 A good degree of favor was shown to 
 Mr. Randolph's plan, but not sufficient to 
 prevent other projects, conspicuous among 
 these being one by Mr. Patterson, of New 
 Jersey, and another by Alexander Hamil- 
 ton, from being brought forward and urged 
 by their respective friends, all of these 
 being republican in their general features, 
 but differing in their details. 
 
 For some days, angry debates occurred 
 which, but for the timely and healing 
 wisdom of Dr. Franklin, the Mentor of 
 the convention, would have ended in the 
 breaking up of the body. As soon 
 as there was an opening for him to 
 speak, the doctor rose, and in a most 
 impressive manner, said, among 
 ether things : 
 
 " It is to bo feared that the mem- 
 bers of this convention are not in a 
 temper, at this moment, to approach 
 the subject on which we differ, in 
 a candid spirit. I would therefore 
 propose, Mr. President, that, without 
 proceeding further in this business 
 at this time, the convention shall 
 adjourn for three days, in order to let 
 the present ferment pass off, and to 
 afford time for a more full, free, and 
 dispassionate investigation of the 
 subject ; and I would earnestly rec- 
 ommend to the members of this con- 
 vention, that they spend the time of 
 this recess, not in associating with 
 their own party, and devising new 
 arguments to fortify themselves in 
 their old opinions, but that they mix 
 with members of opposite senti- 
 ments, lend a patient ear to their reason- 
 ings, and candidly allow them all the 
 weight to which they may be entitled ; 
 and when we assemble again, I hope it will 
 be with a determination to form a consti- 
 tution ; if not such an one as we can indi- 
 vidually, and in all respects, approve, yet 
 the best which, under existing circum- 
 stances, can be obtained." (Here the 
 countenance of Washington brightened, 
 and a cheering ray seemed to break in 
 upon the gloom of the assembly.) The 
 doctor continued : 
 
82 
 
 FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 "Before I sit down, Mr. President, I 
 will suggest another matter ; and I am 
 really surprised that it has not been pro- 
 posed by some other member, at an earlier 
 period of our deliberations. I will sug- 
 gest, Mr. President, the propriety of nom- 
 inating and appointing, before we separate,; 
 a chaplain to this convention, whose duty 
 it shall be uniformly to assemble with us, 
 and introduce the business of each day by 
 imploring the assistance of Heaven, and 
 its blessing upon our deliberations." 
 
 The doctor sat down, and never did a 
 countenance appear at once so dignified 
 and so delighted as that of Washington, 
 at the close of this address. The motion 
 for appointing a chaplain was instantly 
 seconded and carried. The convention 
 also chose a committee, by ballot, consist- 
 ing of one from each state, to sit during the 
 recess, and then adjourned for three days. 
 
 The three days were spent in the 
 manner advised by Doctor Franklin. On 
 re-assembling, the chaplain appeared and 
 led the devotions of the assembly, and the 
 minutes of the last sitting were read. All 
 eyes were now turned to the venerable 
 doctor. He rose, and in a few words 
 tated, that during the recess he had list- 
 ened attentively to all the arguments, pro 
 and con, which had been urged by both 
 sides of the house; that he had himself 
 said much, and thought more, on the sub- 
 ject ; he saw difficulties and objections, 
 which might be urged by individual states, 
 against every scheme which had been pro- 
 posed; and he was now, more than ever, 
 convinced that the constitution which they 
 were about to form, in order to be just and 
 equal, must be formed on the basis of 
 compromise and mutual concession. With 
 such views and feelings, he would now 
 move a reconsideration of the vote last 
 taken on the organization of the senate. 
 The motion was seconded, the vote carried, 
 the former vote rescinded, and by a suc- 
 cessive motion and resolution, the senate 
 was organized on the present plan. 
 
 On the seventeenth of September, the 
 final debate closed, the last amendment was 
 adopted, and the result of the convention's 
 
 labors was the formation of a constitution 
 establishing a national government on the 
 following prescribed principles : That the 
 affairs of the people of the United States 
 were thenceforth to be administered, not 
 by a confederacy, or mere league of friend- 
 ship between the sovereign states, but by 
 a government, distributed into the three 
 great departments legislative, judicial, 
 and executive ; that the powers of govern- 
 ment should be limited to concerns per- 
 taining to the whole people, leaving the 
 internal administration of each state, in 
 time of peace, to its own constitution and 
 laws, provided that they should be repub- 
 lican, and interfering with them as little 
 as possible in case of war ; that the legis- 
 lative power of this government should be 
 divided between the two assemblies, one 
 representing directly the people of the 
 separate states, and the other their legisla- 
 tures ; that the executive power of this 
 government should be vested in one person 
 chosen for four years, with certain quali- 
 fications of age and nativity, and invested 
 with a qualified negative upon the enact- 
 ment of the laws; and that the judicial 
 power should consist of tribunals inferior 
 and supreme, to be instituted and organ- 
 ized by congress, the judges removable 
 only by impeachment. 
 
 Thus, finally amended, the constitution 
 was signed by all the members present, 
 except by Messrs. Randolph and Mason, of 
 Virginia, and Gerry, of Massachusetts. 
 The scene is described as one of historic 
 solemnity, rising almost to the sublime. 
 When Washington, whose turn came first, 
 was about to sign the instrument ordained 
 to be henceforth if ratified by the several 
 states the palladium of his country's na- 
 tional existence, and the formation of 
 which he had watched over with such 
 anxious solicitude, he rose from his seat, 
 and holding the pen in his hand, after a 
 short pause, pronounced these words : 
 
 " Should the states reject this excellent 
 Constitution, the probability is that an op- 
 portunity, will never again be offered to 
 cancel another in peace the next will be 
 drawn in blood" 
 
FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 83 
 
 And when, following the example of 
 their illustrious leader, the other members 
 of the convention appended their signa- 
 tures, Doctor Franklin, with his eye fixed 
 upon the presiding officer's seat, in the 
 rear of which was the picture of a halo or 
 sun, made the characteristic remark: 
 
 " I have often and often, in the course 
 of the session, and in the vicissitudes of 
 my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked 
 at that sun behind the president, without 
 being able to tell whether it was rising or 
 sinking; at length I have the happiness 
 to know it is a rising and not a setting 
 sun." 
 
 The convention, however, which framed 
 the constitution, was not clothed with leg- 
 islative power, nor was the congress of the 
 confederation competent to accept it or 
 reject the new form of government. It 
 was referred by them to the several states, 
 
 represented by conventions of the people; 
 and it was provided in the instrument it- 
 self, that it should become the supreme 
 law of the land, when adopted by nine 
 states. It was not till the summer of 
 1788 that the ratification of nine states 
 was obtained, beginning with Delaware, 
 some by large, and some by very small 
 majorities. The violence of the opposition 
 party was in some sections very great, re- 
 sulting, in New York, in tumultuous riots. 
 Of the thirteen original states, Ehode 
 Island was the last to accept the constitu- 
 tion, which she did in May, 1790. 
 
 The year of suspense, while the Ameri- 
 can people were debating the great question 
 whether to accept or reject the constitu- 
 tion offered them by Washington and his 
 associate compatriots, was, on the an- 
 nouncement of the result, succeeded by a 
 national jubilee. 
 
IX. 
 
 FIRST ELECTION AND INAUGURATION OF A PRESIDENT 
 OF THE UNITED STATES. 1789. 
 
 Washington, " First in War, First in Peace, and First in the Hearts of his Countrymen," the Nation's 
 Spontaneous, Unanimous Choice. His Triumphal Progress from Home, and Solemn Induction into 
 Office. Jubilee throughout the Republic, over the August Event. Auspicious Commencement of 
 the National Executive Government Requirements of the Constitution A President to be Chosen. 
 Four Years the Term of Service. All Eyes Fixed Upon Washington. His Reluctance to Accept. 
 Reasons Given for this Course. Urgent Appeals to Him. The Result of the Election One 
 Voice and One Mind He Bows to the People's Will. Joy Produced by His Decision. Departs at 
 Once from Mount Vernon. Farewell Visits to His Mother. Inauguration Appointed for March 
 Fourth. Postponement to April Thirtieth. Order of Ceremonies. New Spectacle in the Western 
 World. Distinguished Celebrities Present. Washington's Elegant Appearance. Dignity when 
 Taking the Oath. Reverentially Kisses the Bible. Curious Customs Initiated. 
 
 *' Where shall the eye rest, weary of gazing on the great, 
 where find a glory that ti not criminal, a pomp that IB not con- 
 temptible? Yea, there is a man, the first, the last, the best of 
 all, the Cinclnnatus of the West, whom envy itself does not 
 hate. The name of Washington is bequeathed to us to make 
 humanity blush that such a man is alone in history " LORD 
 BTRON. 
 
 CCORDETO to the terms of the new 
 federal constitution, which had now 
 been assented to and ratified by the 
 
 WASHINGTON'S INAUGURATION BIBLE. requisite number of states, a President 
 
 of the United States was required to be elected for a term of four years ; and, amidst 
 all the discordances of political opinion respecting the merits of the constitution itself, 
 there was but one sentiment throughout the country as to the man who should admin- 
 ister the affairs of the government. All eyes were directed to WASHINGTON, and at an 
 early period his correspondents endeavored to prepare his mind to gratify the expecta- 
 tions of the people. Mr. Johnson, a distinguished patriot of Maryland, wrote him, 
 "We can not do without you." Indeed, he alone was believed to fill so pre-eminent a 
 place in the public esteem, that he might be called to the head of the nation without 
 exciting envy ; and he alone possessed in so unlimited a degree the confidence of the 
 masses, that, under his auspices, the friends of the new political system might hope to 
 see it introduced with a degree of firmness which would enable it to resist the open 
 assaults and secret plots of its many enemies. 
 
 By almost all who were on terms of intimacy with Washington, fears were enter- 
 tained that his earnest desire for private life and the improvement of his vast and long- 
 neglected plantations, would prevail over the wishes of the public, an acquiescence 
 in which wishes was believed to be absolutely essential to the completion of that great 
 work, the Constitution, on which the grandeur and happiness of America was deemed to 
 
FIRST ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 85 
 
 depend. The struggle, on his part, be- 
 tween inclination and duty, was long and 
 severe, as is evident by the letters which he 
 wrote on the subject, in response to the ap- 
 peals and importunities constantly made by 
 his friends. Colonel Lee, then a distin- 
 guished member of congress, communicat- 
 ing to Washington the measures which that 
 body were adopting to introduce the govern- 
 ment just ordained, thus alludes to the 
 presidency : " Without you, the govern- 
 ment can have but little chance of success ; 
 and the people, of that happiness which 
 its prosperity must yield." So, also, Mr. 
 Gouverneur Morris, a patriot who had been 
 one of the most valuable members of con- 
 gress during a great part of the war, and 
 who had performed a splendid part in the 
 general convention, wrote : " I have ever 
 thought, and have ever said that you must 
 be the president; no other man can fill 
 that office." The great Hamilton likewise 
 urged him to accept the office, and thus 
 yield to the general call of the country in 
 relation to its new and untried govern- 
 ment. " You will permit me to say," 
 wrote Hamilton, " that it is indispensable 
 you should lend yourself to its first opera- 
 tions. It is to little purpose to have in- 
 troduced a system, if the weightiest influ- 
 ence is not given to its firm establishment 
 at the outset." Such arguments and en- 
 treaties as these poured in upon Washing- 
 ton from all quarters of the broad land, 
 that he should consent to assume the pres- 
 idential chair. 
 
 But the election had taken place, in 
 obedience to the fundamental law ; and at 
 length, the votes for the president and 
 vice-president of the United States were, 
 as prescribed in the constitution, opened 
 and counted in the senate. The result 
 showed, that neither the animosity of par- 
 ties, nor the activity of the enemies of the 
 newly-formed government, could deprive 
 General Washington of a single vote in 
 the electoral college. By the voluntary 
 and spontaneous voice of a great people, 
 he was called to the chief magistracy of 
 the nation. The second number of votes 
 was given to Mr. John Adams, of Massa- 
 
 chusetts. George Washington and John 
 Adams were therefore declared to be duly 
 elected president and vice-president of the 
 United States, to serve for four years from 
 the fourth of March, 1789. 
 
 At Mount Vernon, on the fourteenth of 
 April, 1789, the appointment of General 
 Washington as supreme executive of the 
 republic was officially announced to him. 
 This commission was performed by Mr. 
 Charles Thomson, secretary of the late 
 congress, who presented to him a certifi- 
 cate signed by John Langdon, president 
 pro tempore of the senate, stating that he 
 was unanimously elected. 
 
 Accustomed to respect the wishes of his 
 fellow-citizens, Washington did not think 
 himself at liberty to decline an office con- 
 ferred upon him by the unsought suffrage 
 of an entire people. His acceptance of it, 
 and the expressions of gratitude he in- 
 dulged in for this fresh proof of the esteem 
 and confidence of his country, were min- 
 gled with declarations of extreme diffidence 
 in himself. " I wish," he said, " that there 
 may not be reason for regretting the 
 choice, for, indeed, all I can promise is, 
 to accomplish that which can be done by 
 an honest zeal." In this spirit of devoted 
 self-sacrifice, and realizing that the ur- 
 gency of public affairs must require the 
 immediate attendance of the president at 
 the seat of government, he hastened his 
 departure ; on the sixteenth of April, 
 therefore, the second day after receiving 
 the certificate of his election, he bade 
 adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life, 
 and to domestic felicity, and, in company 
 with Mr. Thomson and Colonel Hum- 
 phreys, proceeded to New York, where 
 congress was then in session, to assume 
 the administration of the new gorernment. 
 But, notwithstanding the weight of anxi- 
 ety upon his mind concerning the public 
 business, he did not omit to pay a parting 
 visit to his venerable mother. Embracing 
 his mother, Washington bowed his head 
 upon her shoulder and wept, murmuring 
 at the same time something of a hope that 
 they should meet again. "No, George," 
 she replied, "this is our last parting; my 
 
86 
 
 FIRST ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 days to come are few. But go, fulfill your 
 high duties, and may God bless and keep 
 you." She was then afflicted with a 
 
 town, where the whole population turned 
 out to do him honor. And thus it was, 
 that, notwithstanding Washington wished 
 
 cancer, of which she died in her eighty- 
 second year. 
 
 Leaving Alexandria, he was accompa- 
 nied by a throng of citizens to George- 
 
 to make a private journey, his desire could 
 not be gratified. The public feelings were 
 too strong to be suppressed. Crowds 
 flocked around him enthusiastically wher- 
 
FIKST ELECTION OF A PKESIDENT. 
 
 87 
 
 ever he stopped; and corps of militia, and 
 processions of citizens, attended him 
 through their respective states. At Phil- 
 adelphia, he was received by a concourse 
 of the most distinguished personages of 
 the city and state, and followed by thou- 
 sands of people to a grand banquet, pre- 
 pared for the occasion, where addresses 
 and sentiments were interchanged, while 
 the air was filled with the shouts of popu- 
 lar exultation, and with one universal 
 acclaim, invoking blessings upon him. As 
 he crossed the Schuylkill, a civic crown of 
 laurel Vi - as, unperceived by him, let down 
 upon his head by a youth who was con- 
 cealed in the arch of evergreen which dec- 
 orated the bridge. At night, the whole 
 town was brilliantly illuminated, and all 
 classes and ages spontaneously united in 
 the happy festivities. 
 
 The next day, at Trenton, he was wel- 
 comed in a manner exceedingly novel and 
 touching. In addition to the usual dem- 
 onstrations of respect and attachment, 
 which were given by the discharge of 
 cannon, by military corps, and by private 
 persons of distinction, the gentler sex pre- 
 pared, in their own taste, a most unique 
 tribute of their regard, indicative of the 
 grateful recollection in which they held 
 their deliverance twelve years before from 
 an insulting enemy. On the bridge ex- 
 tending across the stream which passes 
 through the town, the place where Wash- 
 ington, at one time, made so gallant a sur- 
 prise on the enemy of his country, and at 
 another, so important a stand, and a re- 
 treat worth more than a victory, a tri- 
 umphal arch was erected, with evergreen 
 and floral adornments, and supported by 
 thirteen pillars similarly enwreathed. On 
 the front was inscribed, in large golden 
 letters : ' THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTH- 
 ERS WILL BE THE PROTECTOR OF THE 
 
 DAUGHTERS.' Over this, in the center of 
 the arch, above the inscription, was a 
 dome or cupola of evergreens and flowers 
 encircling the dates of two memorable 
 events, one of these being the bold and 
 judicious stand made by the American 
 troops, by which the progress of the Brit- 
 
 ish army was arrested on the evening pre- 
 ceding the battle of Princeton ; the other 
 was the date of Washington's glorious 
 victory at Trenton, when nine hundred 
 Hessians were made prisoners, and the 
 horizon of American affairs was illumined 
 by a radiance which never again wholly 
 forsook it. On the summit of the arch a 
 large sun-flower, as always pointing to the 
 sun, was designed to express this motto, 
 'To You ALONE.' The ladies had ar- 
 ranged themselves on the side of the 
 street, between the arch and the town, 
 with their daughters in front, to a very 
 considerable number, all dressed in white, 
 and decorated with floral wreaths and 
 chaplets. Six of these held baskets of 
 flowers in their hands, and, as soon as the 
 general had passed under the arch, the 
 beautiful choristers advanced, singing a 
 sonnet composed for the occasion ; as they 
 sung the last lines they strewed the flowers 
 before the general. 
 
 At Brunswick, he was joined by Gov- 
 ernor William Livingston, of New Jersey, 
 who accompanied him to Elizabethtown 
 Point. On the road, the committee of 
 congress received and attended him with 
 much military parade to the point where 
 he was to embark for New York. The 
 embarkation took place in a magnificently- 
 decorated barge, manned and rowed by 
 thirteen branch pilots, attired in white. 
 There were also other barges, filled with 
 eminent dignitaries from all parts of the 
 land. 
 
 Arriving at New York, the president 
 was received by the governor of the state, 
 and by an immense concourse of citizens, 
 headed by the military. Multitudes of his 
 old and faithful officers and fellow-patriots 
 pressed around him to offer their congrat- 
 ulations, and to express the joy which 
 glowed in their bosoms at seeing the man 
 in whom all confided, at the head of the 
 nation's affairs. 
 
 Thus it appears that the president's first 
 arrival at the seat of government was a 
 national ovation which showed, by its 
 spontaneousness, enthusiasm, and unanim- 
 ity, that all hearts and voices were united 
 
88 
 
 FIRST ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 in his faror. It was an occasion which 
 excited the great heart of the people be- 
 yond all powers of description ; the hand 
 of industry was suspended, and the various 
 pleasures of the capital were centered in a 
 single and universal enjoyment. Many 
 aged patriots were heard to say that they 
 should now die contented, having had a 
 sight of the Father of his Country. 
 
 L MANSION, 1789. 
 
 The fourth of March was the day which 
 had been appointed for the new national 
 government to commence operations, but 
 so many impediments occurred that it was 
 not until the thirtieth of April that this 
 took place. 
 
 Vice-president Adams arrived in New 
 York, escorted by a troop of horse, on the 
 twenty-first of April, and, two days before 
 Washington's arrival, took his seat as the 
 constitutional presiding officer of the 
 senate. On doing this, lie addressed that 
 body in a dignified speech adapted to the 
 occasion, and warmly eulogistic of the 
 new-born republic and its illustrious chief 
 magistrate. 
 
 On Thursday, the thirtieth of April, 
 1789, the ceremony of Inaugurating the 
 First President of the United States took 
 place in New York, which at that time 
 was the federal capital. Long before the 
 hour arrived, the town swarmed with 
 people; every tavern and boarding-house 
 was full, and private residences teemed 
 with guests and lodgers. Many persons 
 are said to have slept in tents on 'the 
 Common.' The Hudson was studded with 
 boats bearing visitors, and long caravans 
 of carts began to arrive before daybreak, 
 from Westchester, Long Island, and the 
 Jerseys. The ceremony of the day was 
 
 ushered in by a salute fired from the bat- 
 tery. This was about six o'clock in the 
 morning, and, even at this early hour, the 
 streets were fast filling up. At nine, the 
 church bells rang out a merry peal ; at ten 
 they summoned the worshipers to church, 
 each pastor devoting the occasion to im- 
 ploring Heaven's blessing upon the nation 
 and the first president. General Wash- 
 ington had now been in the city a week, 
 having arrived on the twenty-third. He 
 was living in a private house, the prop- 
 erty of Mr. Osgood, on the corner of 
 Cherry street and Franklin square; but 
 his household arrangements had not yet 
 been perfected, as Mrs. Washington did 
 not arrive for some little time, remaining 
 at Mount Vernon until affairs were in a 
 state of readiness for her presence at the 
 new presidential mansion. 
 
 At eight o'clock, on this memorable 
 morning, the sky was overcast, and the 
 appearance was that of a gathering storm. 
 Everybody noticed, however, that the mo- 
 ment the bells began to ring the sky 
 cleared, and by the close of divine service 
 the weather was serene and beautiful. At 
 noon, the procession that was to conduct 
 the president to Federal hall assembled 
 in due style opposite his residence in 
 Cherry street. There were the usual mil- 
 itary companies a troop of horse, one or 
 two companies of grenadiers, a company of 
 Highlanders, in kilts, all the chief mu- 
 nicipal officers, the congressional commit- 
 
 PBESIDENTIAL MANSION, 1876. 
 
 tees, and the new cabinet, multitudes of 
 distinguished citizens bringing up the 
 rear. By this assemblage the new presi- 
 dent was escorted to Federal hall, which 
 stood at the head of Broad street, in Wall, 
 
FIRST ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 b9 
 
 where the custom-house was subsequently 
 built. The old building had been put in 
 repair at a considerable expense, but it 
 was still so rickety that cautious persons 
 looked forward to the ceremony with un- 
 easiness. The procession having arrived, 
 and the hall occupied according to the pro- 
 gramme, nothing remained but to proceed 
 with the solemn formalities ; and, when it 
 is remembered that there was no precedent 
 in history for the inauguration of a repub- 
 lican president, one can not but admire the 
 striking dignity which characterized the 
 whole occasion. At the door of the senate 
 chamber, to which the eyes of the whole 
 vast multitude were intensely directed, the 
 vice-president met General Washington, 
 and with consummate but unaffected ease 
 and grace of manner said 
 
 '' Sir, the senate and house of represent- 
 atives of the United States are ready to 
 attend you to take the oath required by 
 the Constitution, which will be adminis- 
 tered to you by the chancellor of the state 
 of New York." 
 
 " I am ready to proceed," was Washing- 
 ton's reply, made with his accustomed 
 elegant dignity. 
 
 The vice-president now led the way to 
 the outside gallery ; the president fol- 
 lowed, with as many of the high function- 
 aries as could find room, and all were pres- 
 ently gathered on the balcony fronting on 
 Wall street. Of the group, perhaps the 
 most striking person was Chancellor Liv- 
 ingston, in a full suit of black, and, like 
 Washington, one of the finest-looking men 
 anywhere to be seen. Secretary Otis car- 
 ried the Bible on a crimson cushion, and 
 near him were Generals Knox and St. 
 Clair, Roger Sherman, Hamilton, and 
 other noted persons of revolutionary fame. 
 At the proper moment, the chancellor ad- 
 ministered the oath, with great delibera- 
 tion and emphasis, to Washington, who, 
 bowing down, seized the book, kissed it, 
 and exclaimed, with closed eyes and much 
 emotion 
 
 "I swear, so help me God!" 
 
 "It is done," the chancellor declared, 
 and, turning to the crowd exclaimed, 
 
 " Long live George Washington, President 
 of the United States ! " 
 
 This last-named declaration, on the part 
 of the chancellor, was in imitation of mo- 
 narchical custom. The error of this prac- 
 tice was, however, soon exposed and 
 abandoned; but at this time, the crowd 
 thought of nothing but the exciting solem- 
 nity of the scene, and many who demon- 
 stratively waved their hats were too 
 overcome by emotion to join in the huzzas. 
 
 Of course, Washington was the observed 
 of all observers in that mighty crowd, and 
 his grandly-commanding figure made this 
 both natural and easy, and so too did the 
 construction of the balcony, conspicuously 
 fronting the edifice, where the remarkable 
 ceremony was performed. He was dressed 
 in a complete suit of dark brown broad- 
 cloth, of American production, white silk 
 long stockings, silver shoe-buckles upon 
 his polished shoes, a steel-hilted dress 
 sword, and his hair dressed and powdered 
 according to the style then in vogue, and 
 gathered up in a bag. This attire, it may 
 be remarked, was Washington's personal 
 choice. On the occasion of his second in- 
 auguration, however, Washington was 
 dressed precisely as Stuart has painted 
 him in Lord Lansdowne's full-length por- 
 trait in a full suit of the richest black 
 velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and 
 square silver buckles set upon shoes ja- 
 panned with the most scrupulous neatness, 
 black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the 
 breast and wrists, a light dress-sword; his 
 hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so 
 as to project at the sides, and gathered be- 
 hind in a silk bag, ornamented with a 
 large rose of black ribbon. He held his 
 cocked hat, which had a large black cock- 
 ade on one side of it, in his hand, while 
 standing, but laid it on the table when he 
 sat down. 
 
 Washington, on taking the oath, as ad- 
 ministered by Chancellor Livingston, is 
 said to have laid his hand upon that page 
 of the Bible containing the fiftieth chapter 
 of Genesis, opposite to which were two 
 illustrations of the text, one being a pic- 
 ture of ' The Blessing of Zebulon,' and tho 
 
90 
 
 FIEST ELECTION OF A PRESIDENT. 
 
 other of ' The Prophecy of Issachar.' That 
 memorable volume, of such peculiar his- 
 torical associations, now belongs to one of 
 the masonic lodges in New York. Upon 
 each of the two outside surfaces of the vol- 
 ume, there is engraved in golden letters a 
 commemorative record of the interesting 
 circumstances attaching to it ; and on the 
 inside, beautifully written upon parch- 
 ment, in ornamental style, surmounted by 
 an engraved portrait of Washington, is 
 the following statement : 
 
 ' On this Sacred Volume, on the 30th day 
 of April, 1789, in the city of New York, 
 was administered to GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 the first President of the United States of 
 America, the oath to support the Constitu- 
 tion of the United States. This important 
 ceremony was performed by the Most 
 Worshipful Grand Master of Free and 
 Accepted Masons of the state of New 
 York, the Honorable Robert R Livings- 
 ton, Chancellor of the state.' 
 
 The inaugural address delivered by 
 Washington, and which, like all the early 
 inaugurals, possessed the merit of brevity, 
 was pronounced in the senate chamber. It 
 was considered, in those days, a speech to 
 congress and not to the people ; and both 
 houses felt it incumbent on them follow- 
 ing the usage of monarchies, to present 
 replies to the president, at his residence. 
 
 From the senate chamber, the president 
 was escorted to St. Paul's church, where 
 he heard an appropriate religious service, 
 conducted by Dr. Prevost; and thence 
 home to his house. In the evening the 
 whole city was one blaze of illumination, 
 all classes participating in this attractive 
 
 feature of the general jubilee. Many of 
 the illuminations were very beautiful 
 none more so than those of the French and 
 Spanish ministers, who both lived in 
 Broadway, near the Bowling Green ; and 
 the whole scene was unique, animated, and 
 enchanting. General Washington him- 
 self went 'down town,' that is to say, 
 toward the Battery, to see the spectacle, of 
 , which he expressed the warmest admira- 
 tion ; returning about ten o'clock on foot, 
 the crowd being too dense for a carriage 
 to pass. 
 
 As the supreme head of the nation, 
 President Washington at once endeavored 
 to acquaint himself fully with the state of 
 public affairs, and for this purpose, he 
 called upon those who had been the heads 
 of departments under the confederation, to 
 report to him the situation of their respec- 
 tive concerns. He also, having consulted 
 with his friends, adopted a sj'Stem for the 
 order of his own household, for the regu- 
 lation of his hours of business, and of in- 
 tercourse with those who, in a formal 
 manner, visited him as the chief magis- 
 trate of the nation. But he publicly an- 
 nounced that neither visits of business nor 
 of ceremony would be expected on Sunday, 
 as he wished to reserve that day sacredly 
 to himself. One of the most important 
 and delicate of the president's duties was 
 to fill those departments which congress at 
 an early day had established to aid the 
 executive in the administration of the 
 government. His judgment and prudence 
 were consistently exhibited in this respect, 
 by his selecting such able men for his 
 cabinet. 
 
X. 
 
 GREATEST DEFEAT AND VICTORY OF AMERICAN ARMS 
 
 THE INDIAN WARS. 1791. 
 
 Headlong Flight and Destruction of St. Clair's Army, in 1791, Before the Trained Warriors of "Lit- 
 tle Turtle." This Mortifying Disaster Retrieved by Wayne's Overwhelming Triumph in 1794. Final 
 and Crushing Blow Dealt by Jackson, in 1814. The Question of Power Between the Two Races For- 
 ever settled in Favor of the Whites. Old Feuds Between the Races Ilarmer's Expedition to the 
 North-west. Powerless in Ambush Warfare. Repeated and Bloody Reverses. St. Clair put in Com- 
 mand. Warning Words of Washington. Sudden Attack by the Miamis. Terrible Slaughter of the 
 Whites. Overthrow of the Whole Campaign. Washington's Reception of the News. His Appall- 
 ing Wrath. Sketcli of St. Clair's Conqueror. His Fame at Home and Abroad. General Wayne 
 Sent to the Field. Unsuccessfully Proffers Peace. Instantly Prepares for Battle. Great Army of 
 Indian Warriors Their Sagacious Choice of Position. Desperate Fury of the Conflict. Wayne's 
 Prowess Irresistible. Death Knell of the Savages. Their Confederacy Shattered. 
 
 " Nothing but lamentable Bounds was heard. 
 Nor aught was seen but ghastly views of death 
 Infectious horror ran from face to face, 
 And pale despair." 
 
 LL historians agree in declaring that the 
 defeat of General St. Clair, in 1791, by 
 the Indians of the north-west territory, 
 
92 
 
 GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WARS. 
 
 was the most signal and disastrous ever 
 sustained by the American army, in its 
 battles with the warriors of the forest. 
 
 On the other hand, this defeat the 
 news of which fell like a thunderbolt upon 
 the then struggling and distracted govern- 
 ment, was retrieved by a most complete 
 and decisive victory, under General 
 Wayne, over these same tribes, collected 
 together in a vast and powerful horde, at 
 the rapids of the Maumee, in 1794 ; a vic- 
 tory which, taken in connection with the 
 subsequent overwhelming triumph of Gen- 
 eral Jackson, in his campaign against the 
 Creeks, gave the finishing stroke to the 
 power of the Indian race in North Amer- 
 ica, settling forever the long struggle 
 that had been carried on between the white 
 man and the red man, in favor of the 
 former, though the warlike propensities of 
 the savages occasionally broke out in sub- 
 sequent years, as in 1811, under Tecum- 
 seh; the Creek war, of 1814, under 
 Weatherford ; the terrible Seminole cam- 
 paign ; the Cherokee contest ; the hostili- 
 ties of the Sacs, Foxes, and Winnebagoes, 
 under Black Hawk ; the renowned Flor- 
 ida war, of 1835, under Micanopy and Os- 
 ceola; etc. These later wars tasked, to 
 the utmost, the military skill of such 
 trained soldiers as Jackson, Harrison, 
 Worth, Harney, Jessup, Clinch, Thomp- 
 son, Dade, Atkinson, Gaines, Taylor. Red 
 Jacket, and Cornplanter, were prominent 
 chieftains in the wars of the Senecas. 
 
 In the month of September, 1790, Gen- 
 eral Harmer was intrusted with the import- 
 ant duty of looking after the fierce tribes 
 on the Miami and Wabash, between whom 
 and the Kentuckians there had long waged 
 a relentless war. The general went for- 
 ward with a body of three hundred and 
 twenty regulars, who, being re-enforced by 
 the militia of Pennsylvania and Kentucky, 
 formed a corps of one thousand four hun- 
 dred and fifty-three men. The Indians, 
 on his approach, set fire to their villages ; 
 but this was nothing, unless they could be 
 brought to an engagement. Harmer, 
 however, instead of advancing himself, 
 with the main body, sent forward Colonel 
 
 Hardin, with two hundred and ten men, 
 of whom only thirty were regulars. They 
 were attacked ; the militia fled ; the others 
 were nearly cut off. The general then 
 sent forward Hardin, with three hundred 
 men, who speedily encountered another 
 large body. After a brave contest, in 
 which this party lost nearly half their 
 number, they retreated on the main body. 
 'Thus disaster followed disaster, and the 
 nation became sore and mortified under 
 such repeated humiliations. 
 
 One of the last measures, therefore, 
 adopted by the United States congress, 
 the ensuing year, 1791, was to augment 
 the national military force, to a suitable 
 degree of power, and to place in the hands 
 of President Washington more ample 
 means for the protection of the frontier, as 
 the Indians on the north-west side of the 
 Ohio still continued their hostilities. A 
 new expedition against the belligerent 
 tribes had, in consequence, been projected; 
 and General St. Clair, then governor of 
 the territory west of the Ohio, was ap- 
 pointed commander of the forces to be em- 
 ployed. Washington had been deeply 
 chagrined by the mortifying disasters of 
 General Harmer's expedition to the Wa- 
 bash, resulting from Indian ambushes. 
 In taking leave, therefore, of his old mili- 
 tary comrade, St. Clair, he wished him 
 success and honor, and added this solemn 
 warning : 
 
 " You have your instructions from the 
 secretary of war. I had a strict eye to 
 them, and will add but one word, Be- 
 ware of a surprise ! You know how the 
 Indians fight. I repeat it Beware of a 
 surprise ! " 
 
 With these warning words sounding in 
 his ear, fresh with Washington's awful 
 emphasis, St. Clair departed. 
 
 On the fourth of November, while the 
 main body of St. Glair's army were en- 
 camped in two lines on rising ground, 
 some fifteen miles south of the Miami vil- 
 lages on one of the tributaries of the Wa- 
 bash, and the militia upon a high flat on 
 the other side of the stream, they were 
 surprised and terribly attacked by an In- 
 
GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WAES. 
 
 93 
 
 dian force which lay concealed in the 
 woods. General St. Glair, who was suffer- 
 ing severely from gout, was unable to 
 mount his horse, and had to be carried 
 about in a litter, from -vhich he gave his 
 orders with discretion and the most perfect 
 coolness. The battle raged fearfully for 
 nearly three hours, and after nearly half 
 of his army had been slaughtered, St. Glair 
 beat a headlong retreat. Thus were all 
 the plans, hopes and labors of President 
 Washington, congress, and the cabinet, in 
 reference to the Indian campaign, utterly 
 and deplorably overthrown in a single 
 day ! This result is stated to have arisen 
 thus : On the third of November, St. Clair 
 formed his force into two lines ; the first, 
 under the command of General Butler, 
 composed the right wing, and lay with a 
 creek immediately in their front. The 
 left wing, commanded by Colonel Darke, 
 formed the second, and lay with an inter- 
 val of about seventy yards between them 
 and the first line. The militia were ad- 
 vanced beyond the creek, about a quarter 
 of a mile in front. About half an hour 
 before sunrise the next morning, just after 
 the troops had been dismissed from the 
 parade, an unexpected attack was made 
 upon the militia, who fled in the utmost 
 confusion, and rushing into camp through 
 ths first line of regular troops, which had 
 
 been formed the instant the first gun was 
 discharged, threw them too into disorder. 
 Such was the panic, and so rapid and irreg- 
 ular the flight, that the exertions of the 
 officers to recall the men to their senses 
 and to duty were quite unavailing. 
 
 It was soon perceived that the American 
 fire could produce, on a concealed enemy, 
 no considerable effect, and that the only 
 hope of victory was in the bayonet. At 
 the head of the second regiment, which 
 formed the left of the left wing, Darke 
 made an impetuous charge upon the 
 enemy, forced them from their ground 
 with some loss, and drove them about four 
 hundred yards. He was followed by that 
 whole wing ; but the want of a sufficient 
 number of riflemen to press this advan- 
 tage, deprived him of its benefit, and, as 
 soon as he gave over the pursuit, the In- 
 dians renewed the attack. In the mean- 
 time, General Butler was mortally 
 
 WAYNE'S DEFEAT OK THK INDIANS. 
 
94 
 
 GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WARS. 
 
 wounded, the left of the right wing was 
 broken, the artillerists almost to a man 
 killed, the guns seized, and the camp pen- 
 etrated by the enemy. Orders were given 
 to again charge with the bayonet; this 
 was done with spirit and momentary suc- 
 cess, the Indians being driven out of the 
 camp, and the artillery recovered. 
 
 To save the remnant of the army was 
 all that now remained to be done; and, 
 about half-past nine in the morning, Gen- 
 eral St. Clair ordered Colonel Darke, with 
 the second regiment, to charge a body of 
 Indians who intercepted their retreat, and 
 to gain the road. Major Clarke, with his 
 battalion, was directed to cover the rear. 
 These orders were executed, and then a 
 disorderly flight commenced. The pursuit 
 was kept up about four miles, when, fortu- 
 nately for the surviving Americans, the 
 victorious savages, eager for plunder, 
 stopped at the camp of their vanquished 
 foes, to divide the spoils. The routed 
 troops continued their flight to Fort Jef- 
 ferson some thirty miles, throwing 
 away their arms along the road. At this 
 place they met the detached regiment, and 
 leaving their wounded at Fort Jefferson, 
 the army continued its retreat to Fort 
 Washington, the site of the present city 
 of Cincinnati. 
 
 Poor St. Glair's defeat has been aptly 
 paralleled with that of Braddock. No 
 doubt, when he realized the terrible havoc 
 that had been made, he thought sadly of 
 Washington's parting words, " Beware of 
 a surprise ! " The manner in which the 
 news of this disaster affected Washington 
 is thus described by Mr. Rush : 
 
 Towards the close of a winter's day, in 
 December, an officer in uniform was seen 
 to dismount in front of the president's 
 house in Philadelphia, and, giving the 
 bridle to his servant, knock at the door of 
 the mansion. Learning from the porter 
 that the president was at dinner, he said 
 he was on public business, having dis- 
 patches which he could deliver only to the 
 commander-in-chief. A servant was sent 
 into the dining-room to give the informa- 
 tion to Mr. Lear, the president's private 
 
 secretary, who left the table and went into 
 the hall, where the officer repeated what 
 he had said. Mr. Lear replied that, as 
 the president's secretary, he would take 
 charge of the dispatches and deliver them 
 at the proper time. The officer made 
 answer that he had just arrived from the 
 western army, and his orders were explicit 
 to deliver them with all promptitude, and 
 'to the president in person ; but that he 
 would wait his directions. Mr. Lear re- 
 turned, and in a whisper imparted to the 
 president what had passed. General 
 Washington rose from the table and went 
 to the officer. He was back in a short 
 time, made a word of apology for his ab- 
 sence, but no allusion to the cause of it. 
 He had company that day. Everything 
 went on as usual. Dinner over, the gen- 
 tlemen passed to the drawing-room of Mrs. 
 Washington, which was open in the even- 
 ing. The general spoke courteously to 
 every la"dy in the room, as was his custom. 
 His hours were early, and by ten o'clock 
 all the company had gone. Soon Mrs. 
 Washington left the room, and the general 
 and Mr. Lear remained. The chief now 
 paced the room in hurried strides, and 
 without speaking, for several minutes. 
 Then he sat down on a sofa by the fire, 
 telling Mr. Lear to sit down. He rose 
 again, and, as he walked backward and 
 forward, Mr. Lear saw a storm gathering. 
 In the agony of his emotion, he struck his 
 clenched hands with fearful force against 
 his forehead, and in a paroxysm of anguish 
 exclaimed 
 
 "It's all over! St. Clair's defeated 
 routed; the officers nearly all killed the 
 men by wholesale that brave army cut to 
 pieces the rout complete ! too shocking to 
 think of and a surprise in the bargain ! " 
 
 He uttered all this with great vehe- 
 mence. Then he paused, and walked 
 about the room several times, agitated, but 
 saying nothing. Near the door he stopped 
 short and stood still a few seconds ; then, 
 turning to the secretary, who stood amazed 
 at the spectacle of Washington in all his 
 terrors, the general, in his wrath, again 
 broke out, saying, 
 
GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WARS. 
 
 95 
 
 " Yes, sir, HERE, in this very room, on 
 this very spot, I took leave of him; I 
 wished him success and honor. ' You 
 have your instructions,' I said, 'from the 
 secretary of war; I had a strict eye to 
 them, and will add but one word beware 
 of a surprise ! I repeat it beware of a 
 surprise ! You know how the Indians 
 fight us.' He went off with that as my 
 last solemn warning thrown into his ears. 
 And yet, to suffer that army to be cut to 
 pieces, hacked by a surprise the very 
 thing I guarded him against ! God ! 
 O God ! he's worse than a murderer ! 
 How can he answer it to his country ? 
 The blood of the slain is upon him the 
 curse of widows and orphans the curse of 
 heaven ! " 
 
 This torrent came out in tone appalling. 
 His very frame shook. " It was awful t " 
 
 said Mr. Lear. More than once he threw 
 his hands up as he hurled imprecations 
 upon St. Glair. Mr. Lear remained speech- 
 less awed into breathless silence. Pres- 
 ently the roused chief sat down on the 
 sofa once more. He seemed conscious of 
 his passion, and uncomfortable. He was 
 silent; his wrath began to subside. He 
 at length said, in an altered voice, 
 
 " This must not go beyond this room." 
 Another pause followed a longer one 
 when he said, in a tone quite low, 
 
 "General St. Clair shall have justice. 
 I looked hastily through the dispatches 
 
 saw the whole disaster, but not all the par- 
 ticulars. I will hear him without preju- 
 dice ; he shall have full justice ; yes, long, 
 faithful, and meritorious services have 
 their claims." 
 
 Washington was now perfectly calm. 
 Half an hour had gone by ; the storm of 
 indignation and passion was over, and no 
 sign of it was afterward seen in his con- 
 duct or heard in his conversation. His 
 wrath on this occasion was perhaps never 
 before aroused to so great a pitch, except 
 when he confronted Lee, when the latter 
 was retreating at the battle of Monmouth. 
 St. Clair was succeeded by the brave 
 General Wayne, whose successes retrieved 
 the misfortunes of his predecessor, as the 
 following stirring record will show. It 
 will be interesting, however, to have some 
 account of the character and personal ap- 
 pearance of Michikiniqua, or 
 " Little Turtle," the Missesago 
 chief, who conquered St. Clair, 
 for in no recorded battle did the 
 sons of the forest ever show 
 themselves better warriors, or 
 achieve more renown at home 
 and abroad. 
 
 Notwithstanding his name, 
 Little Turtle was at this time at 
 least six feet high, strong, mus- 
 cular, and remarkably dignified 
 in his manners, though of a very 
 sour and morose countenance, 
 and apparently very crafty and 
 subtle. He was the son of a 
 Miami chief, and was forty-five 
 years of age when he led his warriors 
 against poor St. Clair. His warlike train- 
 ing was of that stern and hardening kind 
 which was never omitted in his nation. 
 
 It was on the banks of the Miami, or 
 Mautnee, in 1794, that General Anthony 
 Wayne, the successor of St. Clair in the 
 command of the American army in the 
 Miami country, dealt a retributive and 
 staggering blow to the power of the In- 
 dians in that vast and magnificent region, 
 a blow from which they never recovered. 
 Realizing the terrible shock which the 
 nation received by the defeat of St. Clair, 
 
96 
 
 GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WARS. 
 
 the brave Wayne " mad Anthony," as he 
 was commonly called, on account of his 
 reckless courage, at once made the best 
 of his way to the theater of action, for it 
 was easy to foresee, what indeed immedi- 
 ately ensued, that, under the encourage- 
 ment of the successes against Harmer and 
 St. Clair, all the treaties would be dis- 
 
 solved, and a general savage confederacy 
 formed against the United States. 
 
 On the eighth of August, 1794, Wayne 
 had reached the confluence of the Au 
 Glaize and the Miamis of the lakes, with- 
 out opposition. The richest and most 
 extensive settlements of the western In- 
 dians were here. Halting at this place, 
 a few days, the Americans threw up some 
 works of defense. A fort had also been 
 built on the St. Mary, twenty-four miles 
 in advance of Fort Recovery. 
 
 Unwilling to lose time, or to be in any 
 way outwitted, Wayne moved forward on 
 the fifteenth of August, and on the six- 
 teenth met his messenger returning from 
 the Indians, and bearing word from them, 
 that, if the Americans would wait ten days 
 at Glaize, they, the Indians, would decide 
 for peace or war. Wayne's only notice of 
 this evasive message was to march straight 
 on, arriving, on the eighteenth, at the 
 rapids ; here they halted, and labored the 
 next day in erecting works for the protec- 
 tion of their baggage. At eight, on the 
 morning of the twentieth, the American 
 army moved down the north bank of the 
 
 Maumee ; Wayne's legion was on the 
 right, its flank covered by the Maumee; 
 one brigade of mounted volunteers was on 
 the left, under Brigadier-General Todd; 
 and the other was in the rear, under Brig- 
 adier-General Barbee. A selected battal- 
 ion of mounted volunteers moved in front 
 of the legion, commanded by Major Price, 
 who was directed to keep sufficiently ad- 
 vanced, so as to give timely notice for the 
 ''troops to form in case of action, it being 
 yet undetermined whether the Indians 
 would choose peace or war. 
 
 Wayne says, in his official dispatch, 
 that, after advancing about five miles, 
 Major Price's corps received so severe a 
 fire from the enemy, who were secreted in 
 the woods and high grass, as to compel 
 them to retreat. The legion was immedi- 
 ately formed into two lines, principally in 
 a close thick wood, which extended for 
 miles on the left, and for a very consider- 
 able distance in front ; the ground was 
 covered with old fallen timber, probably 
 occasioned by a tornado, which rendered it 
 impracticable for the cavalry to act with 
 effect, and afforded the enemy the most 
 favorable covert for their mode of warfare. 
 The savages were formed in three lines, 
 within supporting distance of each other, 
 and extending for nearly two miles at 
 right angles with the river. Wayne soon 
 discovered, from the weight of the fire and 
 the extent of their lines, that the enemy 
 were in full force in front, in possession 
 of their favorite ground, and endeavoring 
 to turn the American left flank. He there- 
 fore gave orders for the second line to 
 advance and support the first, and directed 
 Major-General Scott to gain and turn the 
 right flank of the savages, with the whole 
 of the mounted volunteers, by a circuitous 
 route; at the same time, the front line was 
 ordered to advance and charge with trailed 
 arms, and rouse the Indians from their 
 coverts at the point of the bayonet, and 
 when up to deliver a close and well-directed 
 fire on their backs, followed by a brisk 
 charge, so as not to give them time to 
 load again. 
 
 All these orders were obeyed with spirit 
 
GREATEST BATTLES IN THE INDIAN WARS. 
 
 97 
 
 and promptitude ; but such was the im- 
 petuosity of the charge by the first line of 
 infantry, that the Indians and Canadian 
 militia and volunteers were driven from 
 their coverts in so short a time, that, 
 although every possible exertion was used 
 
 LITTLE TURTLE. 
 
 by the officers of the second line of the 
 legion, and by Generals Scott, Todd, and 
 Barbee, of the mounted volunteers, to gain 
 their proper positions, only a part of each 
 could get up in season to participate in the 
 action, the enemy being driven, in the 
 course of one hour, more than two miles, 
 through the thick woods, by less than one- 
 half their numbers. Thus did this power- 
 ful horde of savages, who had assumed to 
 dictate terms and throw down the gauntlet 
 to the American nation, abandon them- 
 selves to flight, and flee in terror and dis- 
 may, before Wayne and his victorious 
 army. They were compelled to sue for 
 peace on the conqueror's own terms ; their 
 7 
 
 confederacy was shattered into fragments ; 
 their power was forever annihilated. On 
 the return of Wayne to Philadelphia, then 
 the nation's capital, there was a cessation 
 of all business, as on some great holida}* ; 
 the military turned out in legions to meet 
 him; the bells rang out their merriest 
 peals, cannon boomed from every hill-top, 
 and the plaudits of the multitude attended 
 him at every step. General Harrison's 
 defeat of the Indians under Tecumseh, at 
 Tippecauoe, in 1811, was another victory 
 of similar brilliancy and importance, de- 
 serving of mention here. 
 
 It only remains to add to this chapter, 
 General Jackson's crowning achievement 
 in the work of grinding to powder the mil- 
 itary prestige of the Indian race in North 
 America. The Creeks and Seminoles had 
 long disputed the intrusion of the white 
 race, and, though dreadfully cut to pieces 
 in the battles of Talluschatches, Talladega, 
 Emuckfaw, Enotochopco, and others, de- 
 termined to make one more great and final 
 struggle in the field. Accordingly, with 
 consummate sagacity and skill, they se- 
 lected a position at the great bend of the 
 Tallapoosa, called by them Tohopeka, and 
 by the whites Horseshoe Bend. Here, 
 strongly fortified, were collected together 
 the proudest, fiercest, most victorious war- 
 riors, of all that race and region. On the 
 27th of March, 1814, Jackson advanced 
 and attacked them with tremendous en- 
 ergy, the troops leaping over the walls of 
 the fort, and engaging in a hand-to-hand 
 combat with the savages, the latter fight- 
 ing with characteristic fury and despera- 
 tion. Of the nine hundred warriors, the 
 flower of their tribes, who defended the 
 fort, seven hundred and fifty were killed 
 or drowned ; for, seeing no chance of 
 escape, and scorning to surrender, they 
 fought with bloody energy until nearly all 
 were slain. 
 
XI. 
 
 WHITNEY'S EXTRAORDINARY COTTON-GIN INVEN- 
 TION. 1793. 
 
 Amazing Impetus Given to the Culture, Uses and Consumption of Cotton. Revolution in the In- 
 dustrial Prospects and Political Power of the South. How Cotton Became " King." Its Relation to 
 the Great Themes and Events in American History. Ingratitude to Whitney. His Brilliant Change 
 of Fortune in Another Sphere. Whitney's Obscure Circumstances. His Early Mechanical Genius. 
 Determined to Get an Education. Goes to the South as a Teacher. Change of Pursuits. Be- 
 friended by General Greene's Widow. Amateur Inventive Efforts. Low State of Southern In- 
 dustry. Objection to Cotton-Raising. 
 Mrs. Greene's Apt Suggestion. Whit- 
 ney's Characteristic Resolve Secret and 
 Persevering Toil. Exciting Rumors as 
 to His Purpose. Great Expectations En- 
 tertained. Triumphant Success. En- 
 thusiasm of the Cotton-Growers. His 
 Machine Stolen from Him. Infringe- 
 ments upon His Patent. Law-Suits, but 
 no Redress for Him. His Pathetic Let- 
 ter to Fulton. He Invents a Valuable 
 Firearm. Southern Strides in Wealth. 
 
 " What Peter the Great did to make Russia dominant, 
 Eli Whitney's invention of the Cotton-Gin ha* more than 
 qualed in its relation to the progress and power of the 
 United state*." I, GBP MACAULAY. 
 
 RESULTS OF THE COTTON-GIN. 
 
 BEYOND all doubt or question, the 
 invention of the cotton-gin, just at 
 the close of the eighteenth century, 
 was an event which most wonder- 
 fully accelerated the high career of 
 the United States, in an industrial point of view, and, indeed, revolutionized, hy an 
 extraordinary impetus, the manufactures and commerce of the world. It tnay be re- 
 garded, in a word, as the first key which was applied to the unlocking of those won- 
 ilrous natural capabilities of the new-born republic, the continued development of 
 whicl has given her such a foremost place, in respect to material and political 
 power, among the nations of the earth. So direct is its identity with the facts and 
 causes which have led to the country's prodigious progress during the hundred years 
 of its national history, that he who would trace to their primary source with even 
 ordinary philosophical acuteness of judgment those momentous events, whether 
 material, political, military, or social, which have distinguished the greater part of 
 that century, may well pause longest and take his latitude at this point. Such, in- 
 deed, is the great national consequence accorded by historians to this machine, that, ot 
 
COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 
 
 the thousands upon thousands of inven- 
 tions and discoveries recorded in the 
 patent office at Washington, many of 
 them, of course, of almost incalculable 
 value, only some half a dozen, or less, 
 are comprised in the ' chronology of 
 important dates,' in the New American 
 Cyclopedia, that marvelous portrayal of 
 man and civilization during the known 
 ages. First among the triumphs of Amer- 
 ican ingenuity thus made conspicuously 
 historical, is the invention and introduc- 
 tion of the cotton-gin, in 1793, which is 
 the subject of this article. That it should 
 have a place among the few of its kind 
 capable of coming within the plan and 
 scope of this volume, will be at once ap- 
 parent. 
 
 Before entering into the more elaborate 
 details pertaining to this remarkable ma- 
 chine and its bearing upon American 
 industry and commerce, it may be useful 
 to give, in the first place, a sketch in brief 
 of the career of Eli Whitney, whose genius 
 gave to his country, and to mankind, this 
 great boon. At an early age, he gave in- 
 dications of that mechanical and inventive 
 talent, for which he was afterwards so 
 greatly celebrated. His father was a 
 farmer in Westborough, Massachusetts, a 
 village where only the ordinary advantages 
 of a common-school education were availa- 
 ble. But Mr. Whitney was desirous of 
 the benefits of a more complete course of 
 instruction, and at the age of twenty-three 
 entered the college in New Haven. He 
 received the honors of this institution in 
 1792, and soon after went to Georgia, in 
 the expectation of opening a private 
 school, and devoting himself to that profes- 
 sion. In this expectation he was disap- 
 pointed, for, on arriving at the place of his 
 destination, he was informed that another 
 tutor was already filling the station he ex- 
 pected to occupy. 
 
 Having traveled from the north, to Sa- 
 vannah, in company with Mrs. Greene, the 
 widow of the revolutionary general and 
 hero of that name, he received from that 
 lady a courteous invitation to make her 
 house his home, while engaged in his 
 
 course of studies preparatory to entering 
 the legal profession. This most favorable 
 offer, so timely in view of his shattered 
 health and scanty means, he gratefully 
 availed himself of. 
 
 It was on the occasion of a social gath- 
 ering of some neighbors and others, one 
 afternoon, at the residence of Mrs. Greene, 
 a party including several planters of 
 distinction, a few of whom had served as 
 officers under General Greene's command, 
 that Whitney first resolved to rouse his 
 genius to its utmost accomplishment. 
 Among other remarks made by the gentle- 
 men present, on the occasion referred to, 
 was one in regard to the depressed condi- 
 tion of the agricultural interests of Geor- 
 gia, namely, that since all the lands in 
 that region, not suitable for the cultivation 
 of rice, were eminently favorable for the 
 production of heavy cotton-crops, it was 
 exceedingly to be regretted that no means 
 existed of cleansing the green seed-cotton, 
 or of separating it from its seed, in a 
 manner sufficiently thorough to make it 
 profitable, it being almost useless, in the 
 absence of such a method or contrivance, 
 to undertake to grow cotton-crops for sale, 
 because only a pound of this green seed- 
 cotton could be cleaned and made mer- 
 chantable, per day, by a single laborer, 
 and the price obtainable for it, when thug 
 prepared, was but a few cents per pound. 
 
 In response to these suggestions, Mrs. 
 Greene, with true womanly perceptions, 
 and knowing Whitney's ingenious turn of 
 mind in the sphere of mechanics, naively 
 remarked, " Well, gentlemen, apply to my 
 young friend, Mr. Whitney, he can make 
 anything ; " and, suiting the action to the 
 word, she led them into the room where 
 her tambour or embroidery-frame was 
 kept, together with some other ingenious 
 contrivances, and exhibited them to the 
 company as evidences of Whitney's sin- 
 gular skill. On being introduced to these 
 gentlemen, and entering into conversation 
 with them on the subject, Mr. Whitney 
 was obliged to inform them that he had 
 never seen cotton nor cotton-seed in his 
 life! 
 
COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 
 
 101 
 
 In a few months, he had advanced so 
 far and so successfully with his machine, 
 as to leave no doubt of his having achieved 
 a complete triumph. In acknowledgment 
 of Mrs. Greene's many and valued atten- 
 tions to him during his labors, and her 
 steadfast interest in his fortunes, the grat- 
 ifying privilege was accorded her, on a 
 day duly appointed, of exhibiting to an 
 invited assembly of guests, principally 
 planters, a model of the saw-gin that was 
 to produce sucli a mighty change. Their 
 astonishment was almost unbounded, 
 when, on examining the principle and 
 working of the instrument, they found 
 that more cotton could be separated from 
 the seed in one day by the labor of a single 
 hand, than could be done, in the usual 
 manner, in many months. Enthusiasm 
 over such a result, and in view of such a 
 prospect, was very natural. 
 
 The report of Mr. Whitney's invention 
 spread very rapidly throughout the South, 
 exciting intense interest, and the planters 
 in especial were eager to see a machine 
 that promised such incalculable benefits to 
 themselves and to the nation. For a time, 
 however, Whitney declined showing the 
 gin, as it was not entirely perfected, and 
 because it might be imitated by others, 
 and he be deprived in that way of his 
 right to a patent. But, so great was the 
 excitement to which the people had been 
 wrought up, and so tempting was the 
 chance which presented itself to the un- 
 principled, to appropriate to themselves 
 the fruits of other men's toils, that the 
 building in which Whitney carried on his 
 labors was actually broken into, one night, 
 by a party of lawless individuals, and the 
 instrument secretly carried off. Thus it 
 was that several machines were constructed 
 on the basis of Whitney's invention, and 
 indeed varying but little from the original, 
 though it was artfully attempted to have 
 the deviation sufficiently obvious to escape 
 the penalties of imitation. 
 
 It may well be supposed that the vari- 
 ous lawsuits growing out of the infringe- 
 ments upon his rights, was an exhausting 
 draft upon Mr. Whitney's funds. But, in 
 
 addition to this drawback upon his enter- 
 prise, there befell him the successive 
 calamities of prolonged sickness, the 
 destruction of his manufacturing estab- 
 lishment by fire, and, worse than all, the 
 assertion on the part of certain unfriendly 
 persons, that the use of the machine ought 
 to be abandoned, because it greatly in- 
 jured the fiber of the cotton. The testi- 
 mony of some of the British manufacturers 
 was industriously circulated, to the effect 
 that the old roller-gin, which ground the 
 seed to impalpability, was preferable to 
 that which separated the seed from the 
 staple, at the sacrifice of its quality ! And 
 here it may be of interest to state, that, in 
 order to overcome the difficulty of separat- 
 ing the seed from the wool by hand, a 
 rude hand-mill, or roller-gin, was at an 
 early period substituted, in some parts of 
 India and China, by which from forty to 
 sixty-five pounds could be cleaned in a 
 day. After this, the cotton was further 
 cleaned from dirt and knots by 'Lowing.' 
 A large bow being placed in a heap of 
 cotton, the string was made to vibrate pow- 
 erfully, thus dispersing and cleaning the 
 heap. These means, employed from re- 
 mote times in eastern countries, were also 
 formerly used by American growers. 
 Much of the sea-island cotton is still sepa- 
 rated from its seeds by rollers constructed 
 on a large scale, and worked by horses, 
 steam, or water. These rollers are of 
 wood, and revolve rapidly in contact with 
 each other ; as they do so, a sort of comb 
 with iron teeth acts on the cotton as it 
 passes between them, and detaches the 
 seeds, which flj- off like sparks in all direc- 
 tions. Particles of seeds which escape and 
 pass through with the cotton, are removed 
 by hand. The cotton is then whisked 
 about in a light wheel, and, when well 
 winnowed, it is conveyed to the packing- 
 house, and forced into bags by means of 
 screws, until each bag contains the requi- 
 site number of pounds. But short-stapled 
 cotton cannot be properly cleaned by this 
 process ; the seeds are so firmly attached 
 to the wool, that a more powerful machine 
 is needed, and here the utilty of the saw- 
 
102 
 
 COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 
 
 gin over the roller-contrivance is manifest. 
 The cotton is put into a long and narrow 
 hopper, one side of which is formed by a 
 grating of strong parallel wires, one-eighth 
 of an inch apart. Close to the hopper is a 
 roller set with circular saws, an inch and a 
 half apart. These, as they revolve, pass 
 within the grating of the hopper to a cer- 
 tain depth, and seize by their teeth on the 
 locks of cotton, dragging them through the 
 wires, which are not wide enough apart to 
 allow the seeds to pass also. The cotton 
 is afterwards swept from the saws b}' a 
 revolving cylindrical brush. Thus the 
 separation is effected in a cheap, easy, and 
 rapid manner. At first, Whitney used 
 bent wires or teeth, like those of the 
 common card, but much larger and 
 stronger, and these were placed in rows on 
 a revolving cylinder. The cotton was 
 separated from this cylinder by a frame of 
 parallel wires; as the cylinder revolved, 
 the teeth extending through the wire- 
 frame caught the cotton and drew it 
 through the grating, but the seeds being 
 too large to pass between the wires, were 
 of course separated from the fiber. These 
 teeth, however, being found too weak to 
 pull the cotton from the seed without be- 
 coming bent or broken, Whitney substi- 
 tuted a circular saw in their place. The 
 teeth of the saw being large, and shaped 
 like the beak of a bird, had more strength 
 and were equally effective. 
 
 So serious an objection as that brought 
 by the British manufacturers, namely, that 
 the operation of this machine injured the 
 quality of the cotton, was a most disheart- 
 ening one to Mr. Whitney and his part- 
 ner, Mr. Miller, for, on its truth or falsity, 
 their fortune and fate depended. For a 
 time, the process of patent ginning was 
 quite at a stand ; and, indeed, little was 
 heard of it by the originators, except the 
 condolence of a few real friends, who ex- 
 pressed their regret that so promising an 
 invention had entirely failed. Of the in- 
 ventor's state of mind, as well as the con- 
 dition of his purse, at this time, some idea 
 may be formed from a letter written by 
 Whitney, in the autumn of 1797, in which 
 
 he says : ' The extreme embarrassments 
 which have for a long time been accumu- 
 lating upon me are now become so great 
 that it will be impossible for me to strug- 
 gle against them many days longer. It 
 has required my utmost exertions to exist) 
 
 without making the least progress in our 
 business. I have labored hard against the 
 strong current of disappointment, which 
 has been threatening to carry us down the 
 cataract ; but I have labored with a shat- 
 tered oar, and struggled in vain, unless 
 some speedy relief is obtained. Life is 
 but short, at best, and six or seven yeara 
 out of the midst of it is, to him who makes 
 it, an immense sacrifice. My most unre- 
 mitted attention has been directed to our 
 business. I have sacrificed to it other 
 objects, from which, before this time, I 
 might certainly have gained twenty or 
 thirty thousand dollars. My whole pros- 
 pects have been embarked in it, with the 
 expectation that I should, before this time, 
 have realized something from it.' Against 
 all opposition, the machine finally became 
 appreciated according to its merits, and, 
 though the country was flooded with imi- 
 tations, against the manufacturers of 
 which, it seemed almost impossible to 
 obtain any redress or protection in the 
 courts of law, a large demand set in, and 
 
COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 
 
 103 
 
 Whitney's golden visions appeared likely 
 to be realized. 
 
 At the suggestion made to them by 
 some of their business friends, Miller and 
 Whitney were induced, in view of the 
 public benefit that would accrue to the 
 cotton-growing states, by the general and 
 inexpensive introduction of the saw-gin, to 
 offer the exclusive disposal of the machine 
 in South Carolina to the legislature of 
 that state, which offer was finally accepted; 
 the sum paid to the inventors, for this 
 privilege, being fifty thousand dollars. 
 Though this sum was only one-half of that 
 which had originally been fixed upon by 
 the patentees, it seems to have given quite 
 a zest to Mr. Whitney's feelings and an- 
 ticipations, for he wrote in relation to the 
 new arrangement : ' The use of the machine 
 here (in South Carolina) is amazingly ex- 
 tensive, and the value of it beyond all 
 calculation. It may, without exaggera- 
 tion, be said to have raised the value of 
 seven-eighths of all the three southern 
 states from fifty to one hundred per cent. 
 We get but a song for it in comparison 
 with the worth of the thing; but it is se- 
 curing something. It will enable Miller 
 and Whitney to pay all their debts, and 
 divide something between them. It es- 
 tablishes a precedent that will be valuable 
 as respects our collections in other states, 
 and I think there is now a fair prospect 
 that I shall in the event realize property 
 enough to render me comfortable, and, in 
 some measure, independent.' It was not, 
 however, without much trouble and litiga- 
 tion, that Whitney realized the fulfillment 
 of this contract. 
 
 But the expense involved in numerous 
 suits at law against the encroachers upon 
 his patent, was more than the profits 
 yielded by the sales, and these struggles 
 and expenditures, and constantly-recurring 
 discouragements, sent Mr. Miller to a pre- 
 mature grave, at the close of 1803. In the 
 year 1812, Mr. Whitney applied to con- 
 gress for a renewal of his patent, in the 
 hope of still receiving some substantial 
 benefit from his invention. But the 
 southern delegation generally though 
 
 with some honorable exceptions were op- 
 posed to it ; which was of course the more 
 unexpected, as well as wounding, in view 
 of the immense advantage of the machine 
 to that part of the United States. In 
 regard to this last-mentioned point, no tes- 
 timony could be more weighty or emphatic 
 in the affirmative than that by Judge 
 Johnson, an eminent South Carolinian, 
 and, at the time of speaking, a judge of 
 the United States supreme court : ' The 
 whole interior of the southern states (these 
 are the words of Judge Johnson, as judi- 
 cially uttered) was languishing, and its 
 inhabitants emigrating for want of some 
 object to engage their attention, and em- 
 ploy their industry, when the invention of 
 this machine at once opened views to them 
 which set the whole country in active 
 motion. From childhood to age, it has 
 presented to us a lucrative employment. 
 Individuals who were depressed with pov- 
 erty, and sunk in idleness, have suddenly 
 risen to wealth and respectability. Our 
 debts have been paid off. Our capitals 
 have increased, and our lands trebled 
 themselves in value. We cannot express 
 the weight of the obligation which the 
 country owes to this invention. The ex- 
 tent of it cannot now be seen. Some faint 
 presentiment may be formed from the re- 
 flection that cotton is rapidly supplanting 
 wool, flax, silk, and even furs, in manufac- 
 tures, and may one day profitably supply 
 the use of specie in our East India trade. 
 Our sister states also participate in the 
 benefits of this invention ; for, beside af- 
 fording the raw material for their manu- 
 facturers, the bulkiness and quantity of 
 the article afford a valuable employment 
 for their shipping.' 
 
 Such was the testimony borne by the 
 highest possible authority, in regard to 
 the wonderful value and effect of this in- 
 vention. And yet, though full a dozen 
 years had elapsed since Whitney had 
 staked his all upon the machine, and was 
 even now pleading for redress against the 
 piracies committed upon his rights and 
 property, he was actually a poor man, 
 struggling against remorseless fate. Mr. 
 
104 
 
 COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 
 
 Whitney, in a letter almost pathetic in its 
 rehearsal of his wrongs, addressed to 
 Robert Fulton, the inventor of the first 
 successful steamboat, remarks, that 'the 
 difficulties with which he had to contend 
 originated, principally, in the want of a 
 disposition in mankind to do justice. The 
 invention was new and distinct from every 
 other ; it stood alone. It was not inter- 
 woven with anything before known ; and 
 it can seldom happen that an invention is 
 so strongly marked, and can be so clearly 
 and specifically identified ; and I have 
 always believed that I should have had no 
 difficulty in causing my rights to be re- 
 spected, if it had been less valuable, and 
 been used only by a small portion of the 
 community. But the use of this machine 
 being immensely profitable to almost every 
 planter in the cotton districts, all were in- 
 terested in trespassing upon the patent 
 right, and each kept the other in counte- 
 nance. Demagogues made themselves 
 popular by misrepresentation and un- 
 founded clamors, both against the right, 
 and the law made for its protection. 
 Hence there arose associations and combi- 
 nations to oppose both. At one time, few 
 men in Georgia dared to come into court 
 and testify to the most simple facts within 
 their knowledge, relative to the use of the 
 machine. In one instance, I had great 
 
 difficulty in proving that the machine had 
 been used in Georgia, although, at the 
 same moment, there were three separate 
 sets of this machinery in motion within 
 fifty yards of the building in which the 
 court sat, and all so near that the rattling 
 of the wheels was distinctly heard on the 
 steps of the court-house.' Surely, few 
 men of genius have rendered so great ben- 
 efits to their country, by means of an in- 
 vention, who have been so heartlessly 
 treated and so poorly remunerated. De- 
 spairing of ever realizing an adequate 
 return, therefore, for his cotton-gin, "Whit- 
 ney applied his inventive skill to the im- 
 proved manufacture of firearms, in which 
 he was very successful, and, having ob- 
 tained valuable contracts from the govern- 
 ment for his improved muskets, he 
 ultimately acquired a fortune, a strange 
 but most deserved sequel to his hitherto 
 checkered career. 
 
 The progress and value of the cotton 
 production in the United States, under the 
 impetus given to it by Whitney's inven- 
 tion, may be characterized as simply 
 prodigious ; and, in the mind of the philo- 
 sophic statesman and student, the story of 
 the cotton-gin will forever weave itself, 
 most intimately and wonderfully, with 
 those great themes and events which make 
 up the nation's history. 
 
XII. 
 
 THE FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYL- 
 VANIA. 1794. 
 
 Violent Resistance to the United States Excise Laws. Monster Meetings and Inflammatory Appeals 
 Officials and Loyal Citizens Whipped, Branded, Tarred, and Feathered. Intense Excitement in all 
 the States. Washington Declares that the Union is in Peril and Heads an Army to Meet the Crisis. 
 Precipitate Flight of the Armed Rebels. Congressional Tax on Spirits. Cry of " Tyranny ! " from 
 Distillers. Western Pennsylvania in a Blaze. Extent of her Whiskey Interests. Ambitious Politi- 
 cians at Work. A Revolt Incited by Them. Bradford the Chief Desperado. Reign of Terror 
 Inaugurated. Tax-Collectors Roughly Handled. The Incendiary's Torch." Tom the Tinker's " 
 Ruffianism Fury of the Factionists. Firm Courage of Loyal Men. Perplexity of the United States 
 Government. Presidential Proclamation. Law and Order to be Maintained. Troops Summoned 
 into Service. Prompt and Patriotic Response The Olive Branch vs. the Sword. Bradford Scorns 
 Conciliation. Washington's Mind Made Up. Prevents the Effusion of Blood. 
 
 ** Here's to your fery goot health, 
 And tamn ta whusky duty 1 " SONG or THl TIMJIS. 
 
 HE year 1794 is distinguished in American history by a remark- 
 able revolt among a portion of the inhabitants of Pennsylvania, 
 and which is known as the Whiskey Insurrection. In 
 1791, congress had enacted laws laying excise duties upon 
 spirits distilled within the United States. This tax excited 
 great and general opposition, but nowhere else was such vio- 
 lence exhibited in resisting the execution of the law, as in the 
 western counties of Pennsylvania, where the crops of grain 
 were so over-abundant, that, in the absence of an adequate 
 market for its sale, an immense quantity of the cereal was 
 distilled into whiskey, the far-famed " Monongahela," so 
 called from the name of the principal river of the region where 
 the manufacture was carried on. It was insisted upon, by 
 these people, that an article produced so exclusively, by an 
 
 CAUSES OF THE WHISKEY IN- . - J J 
 
 SUBKECTION IN PENH. isolated community, as their sole and necessary dependence, 
 ought not to be taxed for the support of the federal government ; and this opinion 
 they adhered to as the following pages will be found to show with a tenacity 
 worthy of a better cause, notwithstanding the day of temperance societies had not 
 then dawned. 
 
 Public meetings were held in all the chief towns, at which the action of congress 
 was loudly denounced as oppression to be battled against to the very last extremity ; 
 
106 
 
 FAMOUS WHISKEY INSUEREC1ION 
 
 declaring, too, i.iat any 
 person who had accepted 
 or might accept an office 
 under government, in or- 
 der to carry the law into 
 effect, should be regarded 
 as an enemy of his country, 
 to be treated with contempt 
 and total non-intercourse, 
 official and personal. The 
 federal government was 
 scoffed at, its coercive 
 authority disavowed; thus., 
 with the motto, "Liberty 
 and No Excise ! " the ball 
 of rebellion rolled on. 
 
 It was at this stage in 
 the progress of affairs, and 
 < only one day preceding the 
 3 assembling of an import- 
 tj ant meeting of malcon- 
 | tents of Pittsburg, that 
 the tax collector for the 
 5 counties of Alleghany and 
 I Washington made his ap- 
 S pearance. Aware of his 
 i business, a party of men, 
 g armed and disguised, way- 
 " laid him at a place on 
 I Pigeon Creek, in Washing- 
 sj ton county, seized, tarred 
 and feathered him, cut off 
 q his hair, and deprived him 
 * of his horse, obliging him 
 to decamp on foot in that 
 ludicrous and painful con- 
 dition. In attempting to 
 serve legal processes upon 
 the perpetrators of this out- 
 rage, the marshal's deputy 
 was also seized, whipped, * 
 tarred and feathered ; and, 
 after havin g his money and 
 horse taken from him, the 
 ruffians blindfolded and led 
 him into the depths of the 
 forest, where he was tied 
 and left to his fate. He 
 was fortunately discovered 
 in season, and rescued, by 
 some friends. 
 
FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 
 
 107 
 
 Not long after, a person of the name of 
 Roseberry underwent the humiliating pun- 
 ishment of tarring and feathering, with 
 some attendant aggravations, for having 
 in conversation hazarded the very natural 
 and just, but unpalatable remark, that the 
 inhabitants of a county could not reasona- 
 bly expect protection from a government 
 whose laws they so strenuously opposed. 
 So great, too, was the audacity of the per- 
 petrators of these outrages, that an armed 
 banditti of them ventured to seize and 
 carry off two persons who were witnesses 
 against the rioters in the case of Wilson, 
 in order to prevent their giving testimony 
 in a court then sitting, or about to sit. 
 
 On the part of the executive, such open 
 defiance of the laws, and of the authority 
 of the government, was believed to imperi- 
 ously require that the strength and effi- 
 ciency of those laws should be tried, by 
 the governing power. Accordingly, Wash- 
 ington issued his proclamation, emphati- 
 cally condemning the lawless acts and pro- 
 ceedings, warning all to return at once to 
 their allegiance, and assuring them that 
 the laws should be executed at any hazard. 
 Against the leaders in some of the out- 
 rages which had been committed, bills of 
 indictment were found in a court of the 
 United States, upon which process was 
 directed to issue, and, at the same time, 
 process was also issued against a great 
 number of non-complying distillers. 
 
 This proclamation not producing the 
 desired effect, President Washington next 
 endeavored to prevent the necessity of 
 having recourse to active military meas- 
 ures, by making it the interest of the dis- 
 tillers to pay the duty. To this end, in 
 addition to the prosecutions instituted 
 against delinquents, the spirits distilled in 
 the counties opposing the law were ordered 
 to be seized on their way to market, by 
 the officers of the revenue, and the con- 
 tractors for the army were directed to 
 purchase only the spirits on which the 
 duties had been paid. But, whatever were 
 the inclinations of the distillers or some 
 of them, the fear of an infuriated popu- 
 lace prevented a compliance with these 
 
 orders ; and the factionists continued to 
 take encouragement from the lenity of the 
 executive, in the expectation of ultimate 
 success. By violent threats they still 
 kept the marshal from serving his precepts, 
 committed numerous outrages upon the 
 friends of government, and perfected their 
 organization into military bands, to resist 
 any force that might be sent to subject 
 them to the laws. They styled their acts, 
 " mendiny the still." 
 
 It is not to be doubted that this inflamed 
 state of the public mind was greatly ag- 
 gravated by the ambitious designs and 
 intemperate speeches of a few leading 
 men. Conspicuous among the friends of 
 the malcontent^ were Bradford, Marshall, 
 Smilie, Brackenridge, Husbands, Findley, 
 and Gallatin. The first-named, David 
 Bradford, was the chief agitator, and led 
 in person the desperate bands, in their 
 career of violence. He was an old settler 
 in Washington county, had accumulated a 
 large fortune, and, being bold and unscru- 
 pulous in his politics, wielded a powerful 
 influence over a certain class. Those asso- 
 ciated with him were men of decided abil- 
 ity, being of Scotch or Irish birth, and 
 possessing their dominant characteristics 
 of nationality. 
 
 In the early part of 1794, the hostility 
 of the law-breakers seemed to become more 
 implacable and demonstrative. William 
 Richmond, who had given information 
 against some of the rioters, in the affair 
 of Wilson, had his barn burnt, with all its 
 valuable contents ; and the same thing 
 happened to Robert Shawan, a distiller, 
 who had been among the first to comply 
 with the law, and who had always spoken 
 favorably of it. These instances were 
 multiplied. The law-abiding inhabitants 
 were dogged and pursued by disorderly 
 persons, their houses and distilleries 
 broken into, property destroyed, conflagra- 
 tions kindled, machinery disabled, life 
 threatened. 
 
 June being the month for receiving an- 
 nual entries for stills, endeavors were used 
 to open offices in Westmoreland and 
 Washington, where it had hitherto been 
 
108 
 
 FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 
 
 found impracticable. With much pains 
 and difficulty, places were at last procured 
 for the purpose. 
 
 That in Westmoreland was repeatedly 
 attacked by armed men, in the night, who 
 frequently fired upon it ; but it was de- 
 fended with so much determination and 
 perseverance, as to have been maintained 
 during the remainder of the month. That 
 in Washington, after repeated attempts, 
 was suppressed. 
 
 Charging himself with the service of the 
 processes officially intrusted to him, the 
 marshal repaired in person to the country 
 which was the scene of these disorders. 
 He continued unmolested in the perform- 
 ance of this duty, until, being seen in 
 company with General John Neville, in- 
 spector of the county and a zealous advo- 
 cate of the tax, they were assaulted on the 
 road by a body of armed men, who fired, 
 but without doing any injury. Early the 
 next morning, a party attacked the house 
 of General Neville, the inspector, but he 
 defended himself bravely and successfully. 
 
 Apprehending, however, that the busi- 
 ness would not terminate here, Neville 
 made application by letter to the judges, 
 generals of militia, and sheriff of the 
 county, for protection. A reply to his 
 application, from John Wilkins, Jr., and 
 John Gibson, magistrates and militia-offi- 
 cers, informed him that the laws could not 
 be executed, so as to afford him the pro- 
 tection to which he was entitled, owing to 
 the too general combination of the people 
 in that part of Pennsylvania to oppose the 
 revenue law ; adding, that they would take 
 every step in their power to bring the 
 rioters to justice, and would be glad to 
 receive information relative to the individ- 
 uals concerned in the attack on his house, 
 that prosecutions might be commenced 
 against them at the same time expressing 
 regret that, should the citizens of the 
 county be ordered out, in support of the 
 civil authority, very few could be gotten 
 who were not of the party of the rioters. 
 
 The day following, the insurgents re- 
 assembled with a considerable augmenta- 
 tion of numbers, amounting to at least 
 
 five hundred, and, on the seventeenth of 
 July, renewed their attack upon the house 
 of the inspector, who, in the interval, had 
 taken the precaution of calling to his aid 
 a small detachment from the garrison of 
 Fort Pitt, which, at the time of the attack, 
 consisted of eleven men, who had been 
 joined by Major Abraham Kirkpatrick, a 
 friend and connection of the inspector. 
 The leader of the insurgents was a despe- 
 rado named John Holcroft, or " Tom the 
 Tinker," as he was familiarly called. 
 
 There being scarcely a prospect of ef- 
 fectual defense against so large a number 
 as then appeared, and as the inspector had 
 everything to apprehend for his person, if 
 taken, it was judged advisable that he 
 should withdraw from the house to a place 
 of concealment ; Major Kirkpatrick gen- 
 erously agreeing to remain with the eleven, 
 intending, if practicable, to make a capit- 
 ulation in favor of the property, or, if un- 
 successful, to defend it as long as possible. 
 
 A parley took place, under cover of a, 
 flag, which was sent by the insurgents to 
 the house, with a demand that the inspec- 
 tor should come forth, renounce his office, 
 and stipulate never again to accept an 
 office under the same laws. To this it was 
 replied, that the inspector had left the 
 house upon their first approach, and that 
 the place to which he had retired was un- 
 known. They then declared that they 
 must have whatever related to his office; 
 to which, answer was made they might 
 send persons, not exceeding six, to search 
 the house, and take away whatever papers 
 they could find, pertaining to the office. 
 But, not satisfied with this, they insisted, 
 unconditionally, that the armed men who 
 were in the house for its defense, should 
 march out and ground their arms. Major 
 Kirkpatrick peremptorily refused, consid- 
 ering it and representing it to them as a 
 proof of a design to destroy the property ; 
 and this refusal put an end to the parley. 
 
 Brisk firing now took place between the 
 insurgents and the party in the house, 
 lasting for about an hour, till the assail- 
 ants, having set fire to the neighboring 
 and adjacent buildings, eight in number, 
 
FAMOUS WHISKEY INSUEEECTION. 
 
 109 
 
 the intenaeness of the heat, and the danger 
 of an immediate communication of fire 
 to the house, obliged the brave Kirkput- 
 rick and his small party to come out and 
 surrender themselves. 
 
 Desirous of ascertaining their full 
 strength, and also to discover any secret 
 enemies that might remain unsuspected in 
 the midst of these treasonable movements, 
 Bradford and his comrades proceeded with 
 a, high and unsparing hand. Monster 
 meetings of friends and sympathizers were 
 
 DAVID BRADFORD. 
 
 appointed, to determine the first question ; 
 and, to obtain satisfaction in regard to the 
 second, the mail between Pittsburg and 
 Philadelphia was stopped by armed men, 
 who cut it open, and took out the letters 
 which it contained. In some of these 
 letters, a direct disapprobation of the vio- 
 lent measures which had been adopted 
 was openly avowed. Upon acquiring thus 
 the names of their opponents, messengers 
 were sent to Pittsburg, where the writers 
 of the offensive letters resided, demanding 
 the banishment of the offenders. A 
 prompt obedience to these demands was 
 unavoidable. Another plan was, for seiz- 
 ing the United States military stores at 
 Pittsburg, and using them in carrying on 
 the revolt. In order to accomplish . this, a 
 mammoth gathering of the anarchists was 
 appointed to be held on Braddock's field, 
 August first. This call was made in the 
 form usual for militia musters, and all 
 were notified to come armed and equipped. 
 Seven thousand men answered to this call, 
 and Bradford, assuming the office of major- 
 general, reviewed the dense mass of troops. 
 The main purpose, however, of this assem- 
 blage, namely, to march upon Pittsburg, 
 
 take possession of Fort Pitt and the 
 United States arsenal, and then form an 
 independent state, or sovereignty, com- 
 posed of the counties west of the Alleghany 
 range, had been divulged to few, and, 
 upon farther consultation, it was found 
 that the desperation of some of the leaders / 
 failed them at this point, and the project 
 was abandoned. But it was determined to 
 march to Pittsburg at any rate, a march 
 that was attended by a wholesale intimi- 
 dation of the disaffected, the robbing of 
 houses, and the burning of buildings. But 
 the greatest popular demonstration made 
 of the law-breakers' strength, was the 
 meeting at Parkinson's Ferry, where there 
 assembled representatives of the whole 
 vast region in insurrection, and, in the 
 mad enthusiasm of the hour, pledged them- 
 selves to follow, sixteen thousand strony, 
 under the banner of Bradford, in resisting 
 and overturning the government. There 
 were at this meeting many able men, but 
 the attendant throng was of a far different 
 class. 
 
 The president had now, for three years, 
 patiently awaited the effect of conciliatory 
 measures, but these had only continued to 
 render the opposition more desperate. He 
 therefore had only to choose between the 
 alternative of permitting the prostration 
 of the government, or to call out its force 
 in support of the laws. It was not in the 
 nature of Washington to allow the former. 
 
 The subject, in all its momentous con- 
 sequences, was laid by President Wash- 
 ington before the cabinet, for final action, 
 and General Mifflin, the governor of Penn- 
 sylvania, was on this occasion called into 
 the council. Their unanimous desire was 
 to avoid, if possible, a resort to arms and 
 bloodshed, and they therefore advised that 
 commissioners should be sent to the insur- 
 gents to warn them of their danger, and to 
 offer a pardon of past offenses, on condi- 
 tion of future obedience to the laws. It 
 was also advised that a proclamation 
 should be issued, in conformity to the act 
 of congress, commanding the insurgents 
 to disperse by a given day. All agreed 
 that a crisis had arrived which was testing 
 
110 
 
 FAMOUS WHISKEY INSUKRECTIOK 
 
 the strength and practicability of republi- 
 can institutions. 
 
 The president did not hesitate to do his 
 duty. He could no longer see the laws 
 prostrated, and the authority of the United 
 States defied, without exerting the means 
 of prevention. He resolved, therefore, to 
 issue the proclamation, which, by law, was 
 to precede the employment of force. This 
 proclamation, issued August seventh, con- 
 tained a brief but distinct recapitulation 
 of the measures which had been adopted 
 by the government, as well as the pro- 
 ceedings on the part of the insurgents, and 
 the preparatory steps which had been 
 taken to authorize the executive to employ 
 coercion and which, though with the 
 deepest regret, he had determined to do, 
 in the interests of national preservation 
 and social order ; and commanding all 
 persons being in the position of insurgents, 
 and all others whom it might concern, on 
 or before the first day of the ensuing 
 month of September, to disperse and re- 
 tire peaceably to their homes. 
 
 On the same day of this proclamation, 
 a requisition was made on the governors 
 of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, 
 and Virginia, for their several quotas of 
 militia to compose an army of twelve or 
 fifteen thousand men, who were to be im- 
 mediately organized and prepared to march 
 at a minute's warning. 
 
 While the necessary steps were being 
 taken to bring this force into the field, a 
 last attempt was made to render its em- 
 ployment unnecessary. To this end, the 
 attorney-general of the United States, who 
 was also a citizen of Pennsylvania, to- 
 gether with Judge Yates, of the superior 
 court, and Senator Boss of Pennsylvania, 
 who was particularly popular in the west- 
 ern section, were deputed by the govern- 
 ment to be the bearers of a general 
 amnesty for past offenses, on the sole con- 
 dition of future obedience to the laws. 
 
 It having been deemed advisable that 
 the executive of the state in which the 
 insurrection was rampant should act in 
 concert with that of the United States, a 
 proclamation, similar in tone and spirit to 
 
 that of the president, was now issued by 
 Governor MifHin, and commissioners were 
 appointed by him to unite with those of 
 the general government. 
 
 But Bradford, whose sway over his fol- 
 lowers was well nigh despotic, inspiring 
 them with slavish terror, laughed at the 
 government proclamation and measures, 
 claimed that he could marshal an army 
 that would scatter the federal force to the 
 four winds, and, under the banner of 
 " Liberty and No Excise No Asylum for 
 Cowards and Traitors ! " the insurgent 
 spirit waxed fiercer and more bold. At- 
 tempts were made to embark the adjacent 
 counties of Virginia in their cause, and 
 their violence was extended to Morgan- 
 town, at which place an inspector resided, 
 who only saved himself by flight, and pro- 
 tected his property by advertising, on his 
 own door, that he had resigned his office. 
 Similar excursions were made into the 
 eastern counties of Pennsylvania. 
 
 The great convention of malcontents at 
 Parkinson's Ferry had, under the advice 
 of Brackenridge, Marshall, Gallatin, and 
 some others, appointed a committee of 
 safety, of sixty members, who chose fifteen 
 of their body to confer with the commis- 
 sioners of the United States, and of Penn- 
 sylvania. This committee was to receive 
 proposals, but neither offer nor accept 
 terms of settlement. 
 
 In their report of the conference thus 
 held, the committee expressed themselves 
 in favor of accepting the accommodation 
 offered by the government. But, though 
 many of the insurgents, trembling at the 
 extent of the conflagration they had kin- 
 dled, were now disposed to yield, a vast 
 number still continued, under Bradford's 
 fiery lead, to go on in their revolutionary 
 violence, and so the last door to reconcilia- 
 tion was shut. Meanwhile, the president's 
 call for troops was being responded to in 
 overwhelming numbers, under the patriotic 
 lead of Governor Mifflin. 
 
 The president issued a second proclama- 
 tion, September 25, describing in terms of 
 great energy the obstinate and perverse 
 spirit with which the government's lenient 
 
FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 
 
 Ill 
 
 propositions had been received, and de- 
 claring his fixed determination, in virtue 
 of the high and imperative duty imposed 
 upon him by the constitution to " take care 
 that the laws be faithfully executed," to 
 reduce the refractory to obedience. 
 
 On every side, the signals of war were 
 now displayed ! The troops of New Jersey 
 and Pennsylvania were directed to ren- 
 dezvous at Bedford, and those of Maryland 
 and Virginia at Cumberland, on the Poto- 
 mac. The command of the expedition was 
 given to General Henry Lee, of Virginia; 
 and the governors of New Jersey and 
 Pennsylvania commanded, under him, the 
 militia of their respective states. The 
 president, in person, pushed on for Phila- 
 delphia, through deep roads and a three 
 days' drenching rain, visiting, as com- 
 mander-in-chief, each of the two grand 
 divisions into which he had divided the 
 forces. He had intended to continue to 
 lead the army solely himself; but, ascer- 
 taining that this would not be called for, 
 and feeling confident that the force em- 
 ployed must break down all resistance, he 
 left General Hamilton, as his deputy, 
 giving directions to Lee to marcn each 
 
 division across the Alleghany mountains, 
 meet on the other side, and act against the 
 insurgents as circumstances might require. 
 But, as had been sagaciously foreseen, the 
 
 GEN. HENRY LEE. 
 
 greatness of the force prevented the effu- 
 sion of blood. The rebellious hordes fled 
 before such a demonstration, the clemency 
 of the government was solicited, and sub- 
 mission to every law freely promised. 
 Some of the more evil disposed were ar- 
 rested and tried, but pardon was ultimately 
 extended to all. Bradford escaped to 
 Spanish territory. And thus, in the 
 words of Washington, was decided "the 
 contest, whether a small proportion of the 
 United States shall dictate to the whole 
 Union." 
 
XIII. 
 
 FOUNDING AND ESTABLISHMENT OF THE NATIONAL 
 
 CAPITAL. 1799. 
 
 Bitter Sectional Contest in Deciding the Location. First "Compromise" in Congress between the 
 North and the South. Final Kemoval of the Government and its Archives to Washington. Official 
 Observance of the Event. Magnificent Site and Plan of the City. Splendor of its Public Build- 
 ings. Congress First Sits in Philadelphia. Need of a Permanent Capital. National Dignity Involved. 
 Violent Agitation of the Subject. Philadelphia and New York Proposed. They are Objected to by 
 the South. Northern Disunion Threats. Schemes of Conciliation. How the Question was Settled. 
 Sweetening Two Bitter Pills. Jefferson's Graphic Account. General Washington's Preference. 
 His Site on the Potomac Adopted. Some Rather Personal Anecdotes. Work of Laying Out the City. 
 Its Original Aspect and Condition Early Trials of the President's Wife. Construction of the Cap- 
 itol. Its Corner-Stone Laid by Washington. Congress in its New Halls. Growth of the Metropolis. 
 The New Corner-Stone of 1851. 
 
 * Where peeped the hut the palace toweni 
 Where skimmed the bark the war-ship lower* | 
 Joy Raily carol* whore was ulencerune ; 
 And cultured thou&anda throujf the tolitudfi. 
 
 in importance to the founding of a free and independent 
 nationality, and the inauguration of a supreme legislative and 
 executive government, was the act of establishing a permanent 
 capital, one on a scale, and of a character, commensurate with 
 the dignity and prospects of the new republic. Indeed, from as early a period as June, 
 1783, when congress was virtually driven from its halls in Philadelphia by the mutiny 
 of a part of the Pennsylvania line, the necessity was very evident of some place being 
 fixed upon where the government of the Union might at least be secure from violence 
 and insult. As this remarkable and untoward circumstance was, perhaps, one of the 
 most notable in its bearing upon subsequent events, in this connection, it may be worth 
 while to recite some of its chief features. While the patriot army, encamped under 
 the eye of Washington, bore their hardships and privations without flinching, and, at 
 the close of the struggle, in 1783, returned quietly, though poor and unpaid, to their 
 homes, some of the newly-recruited soldiers of Pennsylvania, stationed at Lancaster, 
 suddenly mutinied and set off in a body for Philadelphia, to demand redress of fancied 
 grievances from the legislature of the state. Arriving at that city, they were joined 
 by a force from the barracks, and proceeded on the second of June with beat of drum 
 and fixed bayonets to the state house, where congress and the supreme executive council 
 of Pennsylvania were both holding their sessions. After placing sentinels at all the 
 doors, they sent in a written message, threatening the president and the council of the 
 state to let loose an enraged soldiery upon them, if their demands were not acceded to 
 in twenty minutes. Although the resentments of this banditti were not directed par- 
 
FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 113 
 
 ticularly against congress, the government 
 of the Union was grossly insulted, ami 
 those who administered it were blockaded 
 for several hours in the discharge of their 
 duties, by an armed band. Fearing lest 
 the authorities of Pennsylvania might not 
 be able to furnish adequate protection, it 
 adjourned to meet within a few days at 
 Princeton, sending information, in the 
 meantime, to Washington, of this outbreak. 
 The latter immediately sent fifteen hun- 
 dred men under General Howe to suppress 
 the mutiny ; but before the detachment 
 could reach Philadelphia, the mutiny was 
 in a great degree subdued, and fortunately 
 without bloodshed. 
 
 When once the subject of definitely 
 fixing upon a location for the seat of gov- 
 ernment was before congress and the 
 people, the question seemed to overshadow 
 all others. Being in session at Princeton, 
 under the circumstances above narrated, it 
 was resolved by congress that a building 
 for the national legislature be erected near 
 the Falls of the Delaware. 
 
 The commissioners to lay out a town on 
 the Delaware reported their proceedings 
 to congress, but no further steps were 
 taken to carry the resolution into effect. 
 Some were very strenuous for New York, 
 others proposed some convenient place on 
 the banks of the Susquehanna. To the 
 latter proposition, southern members, 
 among whom was Mr. Madison, were un- 
 alterably opposed. All admitted the im- 
 portance of the step to be taken, involving, 
 perhaps, the perpetuity of the government 
 itself. 
 
 At length, a compact respecting the 
 temporary and permanent seat of govern- 
 ment was entered into between the friends 
 of Philadelphia, and the Potomac, whereby 
 it was stipulated that congress should 
 hold its sessions in Philadelphia, for ten 
 years, during which time, buildings for 
 the accommodation of the government 
 should be erected at some place, to be se- 
 lected, on the Potomac, and which latter 
 should become, on the expiration of the 
 ten years, the permanent capital of the 
 nation. This compromise having united 
 
 tho representatives of Pennsylvania and 
 Delaware with the friends of the Potomac, 
 in favor both of the temporary and perma- 
 nent locality which had 'been mutually 
 agreed on between them, a majority was 
 thus finally secured in favor of the project, 
 and a bill which was brought into the 
 senate in conformity with this arrange- 
 ment, passed both houses by small major- 
 ities, though, according to Judge Marshall, 
 these majorities would have been larger, 
 if necessary. 
 
 But, as the final compromise briefly re- 
 corded above shows, the die was cast, at 
 last, to mutual satisfaction. How this was 
 brought about, Jefferson's graphic, and, 
 it may be, highly-colored portraiture of the 
 closing hour and result of the struggle will 
 give some idea : ' The eastern members 
 particularly, who, with Smith from South 
 Carolina, were the principal gamblers in 
 these scenes, threatened secession and dis- 
 solution. Hamilton was in despair. As 
 I was going to the president's, one day, I 
 met him in the street. He walked me 
 backwards and forwards before the presi- 
 dent's door for half an hour. He painted 
 pathetically the temper into which the 
 legislature had been wrought ; the disgust 
 of those who were called the creditor 
 states ; the danger of the secession of their 
 members, and the separation of the states. 
 He observed that the members of the ad- 
 ministration ought to act in concert ; that 
 though this question was not of my de- 
 partment, yet a common duty should make 
 it a common concern ; that the president 
 was the center on which all administration 
 questions ultimately rested, and that all of 
 us should rally around him, and support, 
 with joint efforts, measures approved by 
 him ; and that the question having been 
 lost by a small majority only, it was prob- 
 able that an appeal from me to the judg- 
 ment and discretion of some of my friends, 
 might effect a change in the vote, and the 
 machine of government, now suspended, 
 might be again set into motion. I told him 
 that I was really a stranger to the whole 
 subject ; that not having yet informed my- 
 self of the system of finance adopted, I 
 
114 
 
 FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 knew not how far this was a necessary se- 
 quence ; that undoubtedly, if its rejection 
 endangered a dissolution of our Union at 
 this incipient stage, I should deem that 
 the most unfortunate of all consequences, 
 to avert which all partial and temporary 
 evils should be yielded. I proposed to 
 him, however, to dine with me the next 
 day, and I would invite another friend or 
 two, bring them into conference together, 
 and I thought it impossible that reasona- 
 ble men, consulting together coolly, could 
 fail, by some mutual sacrifices of opinion, 
 to form a compromise which was to save 
 the Union. The discussion took place. I 
 could take no part in it but an exhortatory 
 one, because I was a stranger to the cir- 
 cumstances which should govern it. But 
 it was finally agreed, that whatever im- 
 portance had been attached to the rejection 
 of this proposition, the preservation of the 
 Union and of concord among the states, 
 was more important, and that, therefore, 
 it would be better that the vote of rejec- 
 tion should be rescinded, to effect which 
 some members should change their votes. 
 But it was observed that this pill would be 
 peculiarly bitter to the southern states, 
 and that some concomitant measure should 
 be adopted to sweeten it a little to them. 
 There had before been projects to fix the 
 seat of government either at Philadelphia, 
 or at Georgetown on the Potomac ; and it 
 was thought that, by giving it to Phila- 
 delphia for ten years, and to Georgetown 
 permanently afterwards, this might, as an 
 anodyne, calm in some degree the ferment 
 which might be excited by the other meas- 
 ure alone. So two of the Potomac mem- 
 bers (White and Lee, but White with a 
 revulsion of stomach almost convulsive) 
 agreed to change their votes, and Hamilton 
 undertook to carry the other point. In 
 doing this, the influence he had established 
 over the eastern members, with the agency 
 of Robert Morris with those of the middle 
 states, effected his side of the engagement.' 
 Thus it was that the assumption-bill was 
 passed, and thus it was that the far more 
 important measure was enacted, which 
 provided 
 
 " That a district of territory on the 
 river Potomac, at some place between the 
 mouths of the eastern branch and the 
 Connogocheague, be, and the same is 
 hereby, accepted, for the permanent seat 
 of the government of the United States." 
 In enduring honor of the father of his 
 country, the name given to the projected 
 city was WASHINGTON. 
 
 From the beginning, General Washing- 
 ton advocated the site which was finally 
 fixed upon, and its establishment there 
 was due in a large measure to his counsels 
 and influence. It is related, though some- 
 what questionable, that during the hot and 
 angry discussion on the subject, in con- 
 gress, pending the determination of a 
 locality, a person who was in company 
 with Washington remarked, one day, 
 
 "I know very well where the federal 
 city ought to be." 
 
 " Where then would you put it, sir ? " 
 was the serene inquiry of Washington. ' 
 
 " It ought to be located in Philadelphia," 
 was the reply. 
 
 " Why are you sure it should be there ? " 
 
 " For the most satisfactory of all rea- 
 sons," was the sinister answer ; " because 
 nearly the whole of my property lies there 
 and in the neighborhood." 
 
 In stern silence did Washington fasten 
 his eye upon the man who thus dared the 
 insolent insinuation that the president 
 favored the location of the capital in its 
 present site because it was near his Mount 
 Vernon estates ; and the offender soon 
 vanished out of sight. 
 
 Another little anecdote in this connec- 
 tion will be here given, as showing that 
 " no sea is free from ripples." It was for 
 many years traditional in the federal capi- 
 tal, that one man was found not awed by 
 the presence of the great founder of that 
 city. While the president was procuring 
 the ground which was to be the seat of 
 government, he had but little difficulty in 
 obtaining the necessary releases, except in 
 one instance. Mr. James Byrnes was the 
 owner of a lot or tract which it was advis- 
 able should be included in the plan. The 
 general had various conferences with Mr. 
 
FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 115 
 
 Byrnes, who was especially obstinate, and, 
 highly prizing, as he did, the tract ill ques- 
 tion, flatly resisted all the reasonings and 
 persuasions of the great man. Unused to 
 opposition, Washington at last turned 
 upon him and said, as only he could say 
 it, 
 
 " Mr. James Byrnes ! what would your 
 land have been worth if I had not placed 
 this city on the Potomac ? " 
 
 Byrnes was not at all crushed by this 
 peculiar flanking argument on the part of 
 the general ; but, undismayed, coolly 
 turned to him and said, 
 
 "George Washington, what would you 
 have been worth if you had not married 
 the widow Custis ?" 
 
 It will not do to judge of the nation's 
 metropolis at that day by what it is now. 
 At that time it was desolate in the ex- 
 treme, with its long unimproved avenues 
 and streets, its deep morasses, and its vast 
 area covered with trees instead of houses. 
 Mrs. Adams, the wife of President John 
 Adams, who first occupied the White 
 House, in writing to a friend regarding 
 the city and the presidential mansion at 
 that period, says : ' In the city are build- 
 ings enough, if they were compact and 
 finished, to accommodate congress and 
 those attached to it, but as they are, I see 
 no great comfort in them. The river, 
 which runs up to Alexandria, is in full 
 view of my window, and I can see the 
 vessels as they pass and re-pass. The 
 house is upon a grand and superb scale, 
 requiring about thirty servants to attend 
 and keep the apartments in proper order, 
 and perform the ordinary business of the 
 house and stables ; an establishment very 
 well proportioned to the president's salary. 
 The lighting the apartments, from the 
 kitchen to the parlors and chambers, is a 
 tax indeed; and the fires we are obliged 
 to keep, to secure us from daily agues, is 
 another very cheering comfort. To assist 
 us in this great castle, and render less at- 
 tendance necessary, bells are wholly want- 
 ing, not one being hung through the 
 whole house, and promises are all we can 
 obtain. This is so great an inconvenience 
 
 that I know not what to do, or how to do. 
 If they will put me up some bells, and let 
 me have wood enough to keep fires, I de- 
 sign to be pleased. I could content my- 
 self anywhere three months, but sur- 
 rounded by forests, can you believe that 
 wood is not to be had, because people can 
 not be found to cut and cart it ? Briesler 
 entered into a contract with a man to 
 supply him with wood. A small part, a 
 few cords only, has he been able to get. 
 Most of that was expended to dry the walls 
 of the house before we came in, and yes- 
 terday the man told him it was impossible 
 for him to procure it to be cut and carted. 
 He has had recourse to coals; but we can 
 not get grates made and set. We have 
 indeed come into a new country.' These 
 and kindred inconveniences were naturally 
 incident to the new order of things ; they 
 were only temporary. 
 
 As has already appeared, it was reserved 
 to Washington's immediate successor in 
 the presidential office, to be the first occu- 
 pant of the executive mansion. Neverthe- 
 less, the superintending mind and hand of 
 Washington are broadly identified with 
 the conception ' not only of that elegant 
 building, but of the capitol and other gov- 
 ernment structures. On the fifteenth day 
 of April, 1791, the Hon. Daniel Carroll 
 and Dr. David Stewart superintended the 
 fixing of the first corner-stone of the Dis- 
 trict of Columbia, at Jones's Point, near 
 Alexandria ; it was laid with all the usual 
 masonic ceremonies, an address being also 
 delivered on the occasion by Rev. James 
 Muir. " May this stone," said the orator, 
 " long commemorate the goodness of God 
 in those uncommon events which have 
 given America a name among nations. 
 Under this stone may jealousy and selfish- 
 ness be forever buried. From this stone 
 may a superstructure arise whose glory, 
 whose magnificence, whose stability, shall 
 astonish the world." The south-east 
 corner-stone of the capitol was laid by 
 President Washington, September eight- 
 eenth, 1793, with appropriate services, 
 principal among which was the act of the 
 commissioners, in their official capacity, 
 
116 
 
 FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 N-, D. O., IS 1876. 
 
 when they delivered to President Wash- 
 ington, who deposited it in the stone, a 
 silver plate, inscribed as follows : 
 
 "This south-east corner-stone of the 
 Capitol of the United States of America, 
 in the city of Washington, was laid on the 
 18th day of September, 1793, in the eight- 
 eenth year of American Independence, in 
 the first year of the second term of the 
 presidency of George Washington, whose 
 virtues in the civil administration of his 
 country have been as conspicuous and 
 beneficial as his military valor and pru- 
 dence have been useful in establishing her 
 liberties, and in the year of Masonry 5793, 
 by the President of the United States, in 
 concert with the Grand Lodge of Mary- 
 land, several lodges under its jurisdiction, 
 and Lodge No. 22 from Alexandria, Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 In the summer of 1800, the archives of 
 the government were removed from Phila- 
 delphia to Washington, and, the ensuing 
 November, the north wing of the capitol 
 was ready for the first sitting of congress 
 in the new metropolis. John Cotton 
 
 Smith, a distinguished member of this con- 
 gress from Connecticut, speaking of the 
 new city on his arrival there, says : 'I 
 can not sufficiently express my admiration 
 of its local position.' 
 
 It was at this session that formal recog- 
 nition was made of the great national 
 event of the founding and establishment 
 of the national capital, by mutual congrat- 
 ulatory addresses between the chief mag- 
 istrate of the republic on the one part, and 
 the senate and house of representatives on 
 the other. 
 
 A more beautiful site for a large city 
 could scarcely have been selected. On a 
 level plain some three miles in length, and 
 varying from a quarter to two miles wide, 
 and extending from the banks of the 
 Potomac to a range of hills bounding 
 the plain on the east, the new city was 
 laid out. The idea of General Washington 
 was that the capitol should be the center 
 of the city, and that avenues should radi- 
 ate from it at equi-distant points. To 
 complete his plan, the metropolis should 
 have a million of inhabitants, instead of 
 
FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 11' 
 
 its present very moderate fraction of that 
 number. Though not a seven-hilled city, 
 Washington has, as well as Rome, its Ca- 
 pitoline Hill, commanding views scarcely 
 
 KATIOXAL CAPITOL IX 1876. 
 
 less striking than those of the Eternal 
 City. The general altitude of the city- 
 plot is forty feet above the river, but this 
 is diversified by irregular elevations, which 
 serve to give variety and commanding 
 sites for the public buildings. The plot is 
 slightly amphitheatrical, the president's 
 house on the west standing on one of 
 the sides, and the capitol on the other, 
 while the space between verges towards a 
 point near the river. The president's 
 house and the capitol stand centrally with 
 regard to the whole, though situated at 
 the distance of one mile from each other, 
 the former forty-four feet above the Poto- 
 mac, and the latter seventy-two feet. All 
 the public buildings are on a scale of mag- 
 nificence worthy of a great nation ; and 
 the munificence of congress in this respect, 
 as well as in regard to all that pertains to 
 the city, as the seat of government of the 
 United States, is evident on every side. 
 This is as it should be, and betokens the 
 destined splendor, in point of architecture, 
 avenues and parks, institutions of art, 
 science and education, of the federal cap- 
 ital. 
 
 Starting from the capitol, the streets 
 run from north to south and from east to 
 west, their width varying from ninety to 
 one hundred and ten feet. There are be- 
 side twenty avenues, named after the 
 
 older states of the Union, which cross the 
 streets at various angles and connect the 
 most important points of the city, forming 
 at their intersection with the streets and 
 with each other numerous open 
 spaces. These grand avenues are 
 from one hundred and thirty to 
 one hundred and sixty feet uni- 
 form width; the principal of these 
 is called in honor of the state of 
 Pennsylvania, and extends from 
 Georgetown to the Anacostia, a 
 distance of four miles. It forms 
 the main avenue of communication 
 between the capitol and the presi- 
 dent's house and the chief offices 
 of government. The capitol com- 
 mands Maryland, Delaware, New 
 Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maine, and 
 Missouri avenues; the president's house, 
 Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, and 
 Connecticut avenues. The effect of this 
 arrangement, taken in connection with 
 the natural advantages of the site, is 
 exceedingly fine one of the finest in 
 the world, for a city. From the hill, in 
 especial, on which stands the capitol, the 
 
 SYS1HOL1C STATUE OF AMERICA 8UBMODHT1KQ 
 THE U. S. CAPITOL. 
 
 most noble view presents itself to the eye 
 of the beholder that the imagination can 
 conceive. On the fourth of July, 1851, 
 
118 
 
 FOUNDING OF THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. 
 
 the corner-stone of that magnificent ex- 
 tension of the capitol which has rendered 
 it the most superb structure of its kind in 
 the world, was laid with splendid ceremo- 
 nial, including a commemorative oration 
 by President Fillmore, assisted by Daniel 
 Webster, secretary of state. In the stone 
 was also deposited a record of the event, 
 with the following impressive statement 
 and invocation : 
 
 " If, therefore, it shall be hereafter the 
 will of God that this structure shall fall 
 from its base, that its foundation be up- 
 turned, and this deposit brought to the 
 eyes of men, be it then known that on 
 this day the union of the United States of 
 America stands firm, that their Constitu- 
 
 tion still exists unimpaired and with all 
 its original usefulness and glory, growing 
 every day stronger and stronger in the 
 affections of the great body of the Amer- 
 ican people, and attracting more and more 
 the admiration of the world. And all 
 here assembled, whether belonging to 
 public life or to private life, with hearts 
 devoutly thankful to Almighty God for 
 the preservation of the liberty and happi- 
 ' ness of the country, unite in sincere and 
 fervent prayer that this deposit, and the 
 walls and arches, the domes and towers, 
 the columns and entablatures, now to 
 be erected over it, may endure forever ! 
 GOD SAVE THE UNITED STATES OF 
 AMERICA 1 " 
 
XIV. 
 DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 1799. 
 
 His Sudden and Brief Illness, Last Hours, and Dying Words Fortitude and Serenity Through all 
 His Sufferings. He Calmly Announces His Approaching Dissolution Without a Murmur. The 
 Whole World Does Honor, by Eulogy and Lamentations, to His Exalted Worth and Immortal Fame. 
 He Anticipated an Early Death. His Invariably Good Health. Exposure in a Snow-Stonu. 
 Takes a Fatal Cold. Last Letter Written by His Hand. Reads the Papers in the Evening. Char- 
 acteristic Reply to His Wife. Passes a Restless Night. Alarming Condition the Next Day. Medi- 
 cal Treatment of no Avail. Calls for His Two Wills, Burns One. Affecting Scene at His Bedside. 
 
 Last Words, " 'Tis Well ! "Only One Day's Sickness. 
 Acute Laryngitis His Disease. Burial in the Old Family 
 Vault. Tidings of His Death. Tributes from Peoples and 
 Kings. A Man Without a Parallel Last Page in His 
 Journal. Re-entombment in 1837. Appearance of His 
 Remains. 
 
 ' Posterity will talk of Washington with reverence, an the founder of a great 
 empire, when my name shall be lost in the vortex of revolutioo."-NjipOLKOi Bo- 
 
 i ASIIIXGTON is dead!" were the appalling words which, with the 
 fading out of the eighteenth century, brought home to every American heart the solemn 
 lesson of the flight of time, and that " all men are mortal." Totally unprepared as 
 was his idolizing country for such an event, no intelligence of the slightest illness of 
 the great chieftain having preceded the bald announcement of his death and burial, 
 the tidings moved the nation's heart to profound amazement and sorrow, and deep an- 
 swered unto deep, in the universal wail of a bereaved and stricken republic. If a 
 nation's prayers could have prevailed, Washington Columbia's most honored, venerated, 
 and renowned son, would have been immortal on earth. But the ordinance of divine 
 wisdom is, that the great boon of immortality shall be attained by man only through 
 the portals of the grave, and to this decree the illustrious and the humble are alike sub- 
 ject. Thus it was that Washington, the great Christian warrior and statesman the 
 greatest of good men and the best of great men paid the debt of nature when he had 
 scarcely reached the allotted period of three-score years and ten. 
 
 The last end of so illustrious a personage as Washington, is fraught with an interest 
 so profound and memorable, as never to lose its freshness and value to successive 
 generations. It appeared to be the will of heaven that, so soon as the circum- 
 stances of his country enabled it to dispense with the services of the man who, above 
 all others, was its founder and leading head, he should be summoned away from 
 the scenes of earth. That he was one who was accustomed to consider the brevity of 
 life and the ?jncertainty of human affairs, is evident from the tenor of his conduct 
 and conversation, and from occasional passages in his correspondence. Thus, to the 
 Hon. James M'Henry, secretary of war, he wrote, but a few months prior to his 
 decease : " My greatest anxiety is to have all these concerns in such a clear and distinct 
 
120 
 
 DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 form, that no reproach may attach itself to 
 me when I have taken my departure for 
 the land of spirits." He had also been 
 making arrangements, just before the at- 
 tack of illness which terminated in his 
 death, for the construction of an improved 
 family tomb, and in speaking of his plans 
 to a relative at his side, he remarked, 
 " This change, I shall make the first of all, 
 for I may require it before the rest." He 
 had also been heard to say, " I am of a 
 short-lived family, and cannot expect to 
 remain very long upon the earth." 
 
 The month of December, 1799, found 
 him in the enjoyment of excellent health. 
 Indeed, Major Lewis, his nephew, writing 
 of him as he appeared to himself and a 
 friend at that time, says, " The clear and 
 healthy flush on his cheek and his 
 sprightly manner brought the remark from 
 both of us, that we had never seen the 
 general look so well." On the tenth of 
 December, he completed the draught of an 
 elaborate plan for the management of his 
 lands, laying down the rotation of the 
 crops for a succession of years in advance. 
 The morning of that day was clear and 
 calm, but the afternoon was lowering. 
 The next day, the eleventh, was bluster- 
 ing and rainy ; and at night, as Washing- 
 ton recorded in his diary, "there was a 
 large circle round the moon." The morn- 
 ing of the twelfth was overcast. Wash- 
 ington's last letter was written that 
 morning it was to Hamilton, and princi- 
 pally on the subject of a military academy. 
 The events of that day, and of the two 
 days following, are most minutely narrated 
 by an eye-witness Mr. Tobias Lear, 
 who was Washington's private secretary 
 as well as valued friend ; and with Mr. 
 Lear's statement, are incorporated some 
 facts from the pen of Washington's favor- 
 ite kinsman, Mr. Custis : 
 
 On Thursday, December twelfth, the 
 general rode out to his farms about ten 
 o'clock, and did not return home till past 
 three. Soon after he went out, the weather 
 became very ba'd, rain, hail, snow falling 
 alternately, with a cold wind. When he 
 came in, I carried some letters to him to 
 
 frank, intending to send them to the post- 
 office in the evening. He franked the 
 letters, but said the weather was too bad 
 to send a servant to the office that even- 
 ing. I observed to him, that I was afraid 
 he had got wet. He said, No, his great 
 coat had kept him dry. But his neck ap- 
 peared to be wet, and the snow was 
 hanging upon his hair. He came to din- 
 ner, which had been waiting for him, 
 without changing his dress. In the even- 
 ing he appeared as well as usual. 
 
 A heavy fall of snow took place on 
 Friday, which prevented the general from 
 riding out as usual. He had taken cold, 
 undoubtedly from being so much exposed 
 the day before, and complained of a sore 
 throat. He, however, went out in the 
 afternoon into the ground between the 
 house and the river to mark some trees, 
 which were to be cut down in the improve- 
 ment of that spot. As was usual with 
 him, he carried his own compass, noted 
 his observations, and marked the ground. 
 He had a hoarseness, which increased in 
 the evening, but he made light of it. 
 
 Between two and three o'clock, on Sat- 
 urday morning, December fourteenth, he 
 awoke Mrs. Washington, and told her that 
 he was very unwell, and had had an ague. 
 She observed that he could scarcely speak, 
 
 and breathed with difficulty, and would 
 have got up to call a servant. But he 
 would not permit her, lest she should take 
 a cold. As soon as the day appeared, the 
 
DEATH OF GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 121 
 
 woman (Caroline) went into the room to 
 make a fire, and Mrs. Washington sent 
 her immediately to call me. I got up, 
 put on my clothes as quickly as possible, 
 and went to his chamber. Mrs. Washing- 
 ton was then up, and related to me his 
 being ill as before stated. I found the 
 general breathing with difficulty, and 
 hardly able to utter a word intelligibly. 
 He desired Mr. Rawlins (one of the over- 
 seers) might be sent for, to bleed him be- 
 fore the doctor could arrive. I dispatched 
 a servant instantly for Kawlins, and an- 
 other for Dr. Craik, and returned again to 
 the general's chamber, where I found him 
 in the same situation as I had left him. 
 
 A mixture of molasses, vinegar, and 
 butter, was prepared, to try its effects in 
 the throat; but he could not swallow a 
 drop. Whenever he attempted it, he ap- 
 peared to be distressed, convulsed, and al- 
 most suffocated. Rawlins came in soon 
 after sunrise, and prepared to bleed him. 
 When the arm was ready, the general, ob- 
 serving that Eawlins appeared to be agi- 
 tated, said, as well as he could speak, 
 " Don't be afraid." And when the incision 
 was made, he observed, " The orifice is not 
 large enough." However, the blood ran 
 pretty freely. Mrs. Washington, not 
 knowing whether bleeding was proper or 
 not in the general's situation, begged that 
 much might not be taken from him, lest it 
 should be injurious, and desired me to 
 stop it ; but, when I was about to untie 
 the string, the general put up his hand to 
 prevent it, and, as soon as he could speak, 
 he said, " More, more." Mrs. Washing- 
 ton being still very uneasy, lest too much 
 blood should be taken, it was stopped after 
 taking about half a pint. Finding that no 
 relief was obtained from bleeding, and 
 that nothing would go down the throat, I 
 proposed bathing it externally with sal 
 volatile, which was done, and in the opera- 
 tion, which was with the hand, and in the 
 gentlest manner, he observed, "It is very 
 sore." A piece of flannel dipped in sal 
 volatile, was put around his neck, and his 
 feet bathed in warm water, but without 
 affording any relief. 
 
 In the meantime, before Dr. Craik ar- 
 rived, Mrs. Washington desired me to 
 send for Dr. Brown, of Port Tobacco, 
 whom Dr. Craik had recommended to be 
 called, if any case should ever occur that 
 was seriously alarming. 
 
 Dr. Dick came about three o'clock, and 
 Dr. Brown arrived soon after. Upon Dr. 
 Dick's seeing the general, and consulting 
 a few minutes with Dr. Craik, he was bled 
 again. The blood came very slow, was 
 thick, and did not produce any symptoms 
 of fainting. Dr. Brown came into the 
 chamber soon after, and upon feeling the 
 general's pulse, the physicians went out 
 together. Dr. Craik returned soon after, 
 The general could now swallow a little. 
 Calomel and tartar emetic were adminis- 
 tered, but without any effect. 
 
 The weather became severely cold, 
 while the group gathered nearer to the 
 couch of the sufferer. He spoke but little. 
 To the respectful and affectionate inquir- 
 ies of an old family servant, as she 
 smoothed down his pillow, how he felt 
 himself, he answered, " I am very ill." 
 To Mrs. Washington he said, " Go to my 
 desk, and in the private drawer you will 
 find two papers bring them to me." 
 They were brought. Upon looking at 
 them he observed, " These are my wills 
 preserve this one and burn the other;" 
 which was accordingly done. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon he ap- 
 peared to be in great pain and distress, 
 from the difficulty of breathing, and fre- 
 quently changed his posture in the bed. 
 On these occasions I lay upon the bed and 
 endeavored to raise him, and turn him 
 with as much ease as possible. He ap- 
 peared penetrated with gratitude for my 
 attentions, and often said, " I am afraid I 
 shall fatigue you too much ;" and upon my 
 assuring him that I could feel nothing but 
 a wish to give him ease, he replied, 
 
 " Well, it is a debt we must pay to each 
 other, and I hope, when you want aid of 
 this kind, you will find it." 
 
 He asked when Mr. Lewis and Wash- 
 ington Custis would return. (They were 
 then in New Kent.) I told him about the 
 
122 
 
 DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 DEATH OF WASHINGTON, DEC. 14, 1799. 
 
 20th of the month. , raised him up. He the 
 
 The general's serv- 
 ant, Christopher, 
 was i' 1 t' le room dur- 
 ing the day ; and in the afternoon, the 
 general directed him to sit down, as he had 
 been standing almost the whole day. He 
 did so. About eight o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, he had expressed a desire to get up. 
 His clothes were put on, and he was led to 
 a chair by the fire ; he found no relief 
 from that position, and lay down again 
 about ten o'clock. About five o'clock, Dr. 
 Craik came again into the room, and, 
 upon going to the bedside, the general said 
 to him, 
 
 " Doctor, I die hard, but I am not afraid 
 to go. I believed, from my first attack, 
 that I should not survive it. My breath 
 can not last long." 
 
 The doctor pressed his hand, but could 
 not utter a word. He retired from the 
 bedside, and sat by the fire absorbed in 
 grief. Between five and six o'clock, Dr. 
 Dick and Dr. Brown came into the room, 
 and with Dr. Craik went to the bed, when 
 Dr. Craik asked him if he could sit up in 
 the bed. He held out his hand, and I 
 
 said to the physicians, 
 
 " I feel myself going ;\ 
 I thank you for your\ 
 attentions ; but I pray you to take no more 
 trouble about me. Let me go off quietly. 
 I cannot last long." 
 
 About ten o'clock he made several at- 
 tempts to speak to me before he could 
 effect it. At length he said, 
 
 "I am just going. Have me decently 
 buried; and do not let my body be put 
 into the vault in less than three days after 
 I am dead." 
 
 I bowed assent, for I could not speak. 
 He then looked at me again and said, 
 
 " Do you understand me ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied. 
 
 "'Tis WELL," said he; the last words 
 which he ever uttered on earth. 
 
 With surprising self-possession he pre- 
 pared to die composing his form at full 
 length, and folding his arms on his bosom. 
 
 About ten minutes before he expired 
 
 (which was between ten and eleven o'clock 
 
 Saturday evening), his breathing became 
 
 easier. He lay quietly ; he withdrew his 
 
 | hand from mine, and felt his own pulse. 
 
DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 123 
 
 I saw his countenance change. I spoke to 
 Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came 
 to the bedside. The general's hand fell 
 from his wrist. I took it in mine, and 
 pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put 
 his hands over his eyes, and he expired 
 without a struggle or a sigh, December 
 fourteenth, 1799, in the sixty-eighth year 
 of his age, after an illness of twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 While we were fixed in silent grief, 
 Mrs. Washington, who was sitting at the 
 foot of the bed, asked with a firm and 
 collected voice, " Is he gone ? " I could 
 not speak, but held up my hand as a signal 
 that he was no more. " 'Tis well," said 
 she, in the same voice, " all is now over ; 
 I shall soon follow him ; I have no more 
 trials to pass through." 
 
 The disease of which Washington died 
 was what is now technically called "acute 
 laryngitis," a disease of very rare occur- 
 rence. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, AS COLONEL. 
 
 About twelve o'clock, the body was car- 
 ried down stairs, and laid out in the large 
 drawing-room ; the burial taking place the 
 next Wednesday, December 18th, his 
 mprtal remains being deposited in the 
 family vault at Mount Vernon. The 
 sudden tidings of his death fell like a do- 
 mestic sorrow upon the hearts of the 
 people ; lamentations and solemn obsequies 
 filled the land, and, throughout the whole 
 world, the event was heard with the deep- 
 est emotion. 
 
 Nearly forty years after Washington's 
 
 death and burial, his remains, together 
 with those of his wife, were re-entombed, 
 in order to their being placed in the 
 marble coffins which had been generously 
 offered for that purpose by a patriotic citi- 
 zen of Philadelphia, to the legal represen- 
 tatives of the departed chieftain. This 
 was in 1837. At the time of Washing- 
 ton's interment, December 18, 1799, his 
 body was placed in a mahogany coffin lined 
 with lead, soldered at the joints, with a 
 cover of lead to be soldered on after the 
 body should be in the vault. The coffin 
 was put into a case, lined and covered 
 with black cloth. 
 
 On entering the tomb and examining 
 the coffin, on the occasion in question, it 
 was found that the lid had become dis- 
 placed and broken, and the silver shield 
 which had originally surmounted the lid 
 had dropped down into the case. At the 
 request of Major Lewis, who was one of 
 the family group to witness the re-entomb- 
 ment, the fractured part of the lid was 
 turned over on the lower part, exposing to 
 view a head and breast of large dimen- 
 sions, which appeared, by the dim light of 
 the candles, to have suffered but little 
 from the effects of time. The eye-sockets 
 were large and deep, and the breadth 
 across the temples, together with the fore- 
 head, appeared of unusual size. There 
 was no appearance of grave-clothes ; the 
 chest was broad, the color was dark, and 
 there was the appearance of dried flesh 
 and skin adhering closely to the bones. 
 
 The ancient family vault, in which 
 Washington's remains first reposed, was 
 situated under the shade of a small grove 
 of forest trees, a short distance from the 
 family mansion of Mount Vernon, and 
 near the brow of the precipitous bank of 
 the Potomac. Diminutive and unadorned, 
 this humble sepulchre stood in a most 
 romantic and picturesque spot, and, on ac- 
 count of its prominent locality, could be 
 distinctly seen by travelers, as they passed 
 in steamboats up and down the river. 
 
 But the ashes of the father of his coun- 
 try were in course of time removed from 
 that place, to a lot near the corner of a 
 
124 
 
 DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 beautiful enclosure, where the river is con- 
 cealed from view. This site was selected 
 by Washington himself, in the later years 
 of his life, for a tomb. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to cite the opin- 
 ions held by the illustrious men of Amer- 
 ica concerning Washington. Those opin- 
 ions, held and shared by all, from the 
 highest to the humblest citizen, may all 
 be summed up in that grand apotheosis of 
 eulogy, namely, that he was "FiKST IN 
 WAR, FIRST IN PEACE, FIRST IN THE 
 HEARTS OF His COUNTRYMEN." It will 
 be of interest, however, in this place, 
 to glance at the estimate of Washing- 
 ton held by some of the great historic 
 characters of the old world, kings, queens, 
 nobles, and orators. 
 
 When Napoleon was about to embark 
 for Egypt, some American gentlemen who 
 happened to be at Toulon, being anxious 
 for an interview with the mighty Corsi- 
 can, obtained an introduction to him. 
 Scarcely were the customary salutations 
 exchanged, when he eagerly asked 
 
 " How fares your countryman, the great 
 Washington ? " 
 
 " He was very well, general, when we 
 left America," replied the travelers. 
 
 "Ah, gentlemen," rejoined the man of 
 destiny, " Washington can never be other- 
 wise than well. The measure of his fame 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, GENERAL U. 8. A. 
 
 is full. Posterity will talk of him with 
 reverence as the founder of a great empire, 
 when my name shall be lost in the vortex 
 of revolutions." 
 
 Marie Antoinette, queen, of France, was 
 
 a great admirer of the heroism and per- 
 sonal character of Washington, though 
 not in sympathy with his political princi- 
 ples. Wishing to send to him a royal 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 gift in token of her appreciation of his 
 great merits, she consulted Lafayette as to 
 the form of presentation, citing the terms 
 used on similar occasions, in addressing 
 kings and other monarchs. Lafayette 
 mildly objected to those terms, as being 
 not altogether suitable in the present case, 
 saying: "They, madam, were only kings. 
 Washington is the General of a free na- 
 tion," a sentiment to which the gentle- 
 mannered queen at once yielded a most 
 gracious assent, in deference to the ac- 
 knowledged pre-eminence of Washington. 
 Lord Erskine, in writing to Washington 
 from London, said : " I have taken the 
 liberty to introduce your august and im- 
 mortal name in a short sentence, which is 
 to be found in a book I send you. I have 
 a large acquaintance among the most val- 
 uable and exalted classes of men ; but you 
 are the only human being for whom I have 
 ever felt an awful reverence. I sincerely 
 pray God to grant you a long and serene 
 evening to a life so gloriously devoted to 
 the universal happiness of the world." 
 
DEATH OF GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 In the year 1780, Frederick the Great, 
 king of Prussia, presented General Wash- 
 ington with a picture of his majesty taken 
 to the life, and inscribed underneath with 
 the words 
 
 "From the oldest general in Europe, to 
 the greatest general on earth." 
 
 Charles James Fox, the renowned Brit- 
 ish premier, declared of Washington, in 
 the presence of parliament : " How infi- 
 nitely wiser must appear the spirit and 
 principles manifested in his late addresses 
 to congress than the policy of modern Eu- 
 ropean courts ! Illustrious man ! deriving 
 honor less from the splendor of his situa- 
 tion than from the dignity of his mind; 
 before whom all borrowed greatness sinks 
 into insignificance, and all the potentates 
 of Europe excepting the members of our 
 own royal family become little and con- 
 temptible. I can not, indeed, help admir- 
 ing the wisdom and fortune of this great 
 man. A character, of virtues so happily 
 tempered by one another, and so wholly 
 unalloyed by any vices, is hardly to be 
 found on the pages of history. For him it 
 has been reserved to run the race of glory, 
 without experiencing the smallest inter- 
 ruption to the brilliancy of his career." 
 
 When the news of Washington's death 
 reached France, Napoleon announced the 
 event to his army, and ordered black crape 
 to be suspended from all the flags and 
 standards in the French service for ten 
 days ; and, on the eighth of February, 
 1800, M. DeFontanes, by direction of Na- 
 poleon, pronounced a funeral oration in 
 honor of Washington, in the presence of 
 Bonaparte and the great dignitaries of the 
 realm, in which oration the illustrious de- 
 ceased was declared to be " a character 
 worthy the best days of antiquity." 
 
 Of Washington's personal appearance, 
 little further need be remarked than that 
 it comported entirely with the solid gran- 
 deur of his character. In respect to phy- 
 sique, no man could have been better 
 formed for command. A stature some- 
 what exceeding six feet, a full but admir- 
 ably-proportioned frame, calculated to 
 sustain fatigue, without that heaviness 
 
 which generally attends great muscular 
 strength and abates active exertion, dis- 
 played bodily power of no mean standard. 
 A light gray eye and full, firm forehead, 
 Roman nose ; his mouth was peculiar of its 
 
 TOMB OF WASHIKGTOJT. 
 
 class the lips firm, and the under jaw 
 seeming to grasp the upper with force, as 
 if its muscles were in full action when he 
 sat still. It was Washington's habit to 
 fasten his eyes calmly and steadily upon 
 those who were ushered into his presence, 
 whether friend or foe, nor was it a slight 
 ordeal thus to meet his penetrating gaze. 
 His limbs were long, large, and sinewy, 
 and his frame was of equal breadth from 
 the shoulders to the hips ; his joints were 
 large, as were also his feet, and the great 
 size of his hand never failed to attract 
 attention. His gait and tread was that of 
 a practiced soldier ; his deportment inva- 
 riably grave and reserved ; his speech 
 sparing and deliberate. At home he wore 
 the usual dress of a citizen ; on state occa- 
 sions, he dressed in a full suit of the rich- 
 est black velvet, with diamond knee- 
 buckles, and square silver buckles set 
 
126 
 
 DEATH OF GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 upon shoes japanned with the most scru- 
 pulous neatness, black silk stockings, his 
 shirt ruffled at the breast and wrists, a 
 light dress sword, his hair profusely pow- 
 dered, fully dressed, so as to project at the 
 sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag, 
 
 ornamented with a large rose of black 
 ribbon. In the prime of life, Washington 
 stood six feet two inches, and weighed 
 nearly two hundred and twenty pounds ; 
 he measured precisely six feet when at- 
 tired for the grave. 
 
XV. 
 
 FATAL DUEL BETWEEN MR. BURR AND GENERAL 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 1804. 
 
 Fall of Hamilton at First Fire. His Death in Thirty Hours. Profound Sensation and Solemn Obse- 
 quies in all Parts of the Land. Mourned as one of the Founders of the Republic. Indictment of the 
 Assassin for the Crime of Murder. Hamilton's Brilliant Public Life. Washington's Right-hand Man. 
 Champion of the Federalists. Burr's Career in the Revolution. His Notorious Debauchery. Fi- 
 nally Dismissed by Washington. Becomes Vice-President in 1800. Deadly Personal Hatreds. 
 Criticisms on Burr by His Opponents. Challenge Sent to Hamilton. Pacific Explanations Spurned. 
 Forced to Meet Burr. Makes His Will in Anticipation Sings at a Banquet the Day Before. 
 Arrival of the Fatal Hour. Hamilton's Mortal Wound. What He Said of the Event. Conversation 
 Before Dying. Partakes of the Communion. His Testimony Against Dueling. Heartless Conduct 
 of Burr. A Fugitive and an Outlaw. 
 
 Citsar to Antony : "Let the old ruffian know 
 
 I have many other ways to die; meantime. 
 
 Laugh at his challenge." ANT. & CLIO., ACT. 4, So. 1. 
 
 Y far the most exciting personal transac- 
 tion that occurred among the first genera- 
 tion of American statesmen and politi- 
 cians, was the duel fought in July, 1804, 
 between Colonel Aaron Burr, at that time 
 vice-president of the United States, and 
 General Alexander Hamilton, formerly 
 secretary of the treasury, during the ad- 
 ministration of "Washington ; and in which 
 duel Hamilton fell mortally wounded, his 
 country being thus deprived of its most 
 brilliant ornament. 
 
 Of transcendent abilities and unsullied 
 official integrity, it may be said of the 
 victim in this murderous tragedy, that no 
 one labored more efficiently than he, in the 
 organization of the present federal govern- 
 ment. At the age of nineteen he entered 
 the revolutionary army, and in 1777 was 
 appointed aid-de-camp of General Wash- 
 ington, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 MONCMENT To~Z5xAXDER HAMiLToiJT In this capacity he served during the re- 
 
 mainder of the war, and at the siege of Yorktown led in person the detachment 
 that carried by assault one of the British outworks. When his military services 
 were no longer required, he commenced the study of the law, entered into its prac- 
 
128 
 
 BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 tice in New York, and soon rose to dis- 
 tinction. In 1782, he was chosen a 
 member of congress ; in 1787, a member of 
 the convention that framed the federal 
 constitution. Of this work, as profound as 
 any, and more generally intelligible than 
 most, that have been written on the science 
 of government, the larger portion pro- 
 ceeded from the pen of Hamilton. In 
 political life, he was one of the strongest 
 champions of the party which had Wash- 
 ington at its head. In 1789, he was placed 
 in the cabinet, as secretary of the treasury, 
 and while in this position rendered the 
 most efficient service to his country, by 
 the establishment of an admirable system 
 of national finance. During the insurrec- 
 tion in Pennsylvania, when the people of 
 the western counties took up arms against 
 the general government, Hamilton was 
 placed at the head of the government force 
 destined to act against them ; the disturb- 
 ances being quelled without bloodshed, ho 
 resigned his post. His last appearance in 
 military character was again by the side 
 
 Aaron Burr was one year the senior ol 
 Hamilton, in point of age. His father was 
 the Rev. Aaron Burr, the learned and d& 
 vout president of Princeton college, and 
 
 of Washington, in 1798, as second in com- 
 mand of the army, which was to be called 
 into service in case of hostilities with 
 France. 
 
 his mother the daughter of that eminent 
 divine, Jonathan Edwards. Before Burr 
 had reached his third year, however, he 
 was an orphan. When twelve years of 
 age he entered college, graduating at six- 
 teen with the highest reputation. In 
 1775, while a student of law, he joined the 
 American army under Washington, and 
 such was his ardor in his country's cause, 
 that lie joined Arnold as a volunteer in 
 the expedition against Quebec. After his 
 arrival there he was appointed aid-de-camp 
 to Montgomery, and was by the side of 
 that brave officer when he fell. Subse- 
 quently, in 1776, he was received by 
 Washington as one of his military family, 
 but was soon cast off by that stern moral- 
 ist in consequence of his debauchery. 
 This act of Washington, Burr never for- 
 gave. His unquestioned military talents; 
 however, secured for him the high position 
 of lieutenant-colonel in 1777, which he re- 
 tained until 1779, when he was obliged to 
 relinquish it on account of ill-health. De- 
 voting himself to law, he early became one 
 of the greatest lawyers in New York, of 
 which state he was made attorney-general 
 in 1789. From 1791 to 1797, he was a 
 United States senator. In 1800, he was a 
 
BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 129 
 
 candidate for the presidency, and received 
 the same number of votes as Thomas Jef- 
 ferson ; the choice thus went to congress, 
 which, on the thirty-sixth ballot, elected 
 Jefferson' president and Burr vice-presi- 
 dent. In his personal appearance, Burr 
 is described as having been, in the prime 
 of his manhood, a small but well-formed, 
 fair-complexioned, fascinating man; his 
 face was handsome, by some described as 
 striking, and eyes jet-black and uncom- 
 monly brilliant and piercing. In public 
 lie had an air of eminent authority, but in 
 the drawing-room his manner was singu- 
 larly graceful, gentle, and winning. He 
 was a wit, a beau, a good scholar, a pol- 
 ished gentleman, an unscrupulous lawyer 
 and politician, and a libertine in morals. 
 But whoever would read, in all its varied 
 detail, the life of this wonderful man, 
 must consult the biographies of him by 
 Parton and Davis. 
 
 The animosity between Burr and Ham- 
 ilton, as the leaders, respectively, of the 
 two great political parties, was very bitter. 
 The history of this quarrel, in its immedi- 
 ate bearing upon the fatal rencontre in 
 which it finally culminated, is somewhat 
 differently characterized by various biogra- 
 phers, and perhaps not always impartially. 
 Reviewing the matter from the date of 
 Washington's death, the fact is brought to 
 notice, that such was the number of seced- 
 ers from the federal party after that un- 
 looked-for event, that their opponents re- 
 solved to adopt the bold policy of running 
 two presidential candidates, in order thus 
 to secure at least the election of a vice- 
 president, and in this way, although a 
 choice by the electoral colleges was not 
 effected, the two candidates of the demo- 
 cratic party were brought before the house 
 of representatives with claims apparently 
 equal. In the vote of this body by states, 
 it soon appeared that the federal members 
 had it in their power to determine which 
 of the two, Jefferson or Burr, should be 
 president. Many violent federal parti- 
 sans were inclined to throw a brand of 
 discord into the republican party, by con- 
 ferring the dignity on Burr; and he is 
 
 accused of intriguing with them for the 
 purpose. 
 
 It is believed that Burr, from this time 
 forth, became Hamilton's mortal foe, and 
 watched for an occasion to get rid of such 
 a rival. In the careful account given by 
 Hildreth, of the subsequent progress of 
 this feud, a portion of which is here cited. 
 he mentions, primarily, the two well- 
 known letters written by Dr. Cooper, a 
 zealous partisan, in one of which it is 
 alleged that Hamilton had spoken of Burr 
 as a dangerous man, who ought not to be 
 trusted with the reins of government. In 
 the other letter, after repeating the above 
 statement, Cooper added that he could de- 
 tail a still more despicable opinion which 
 General Hamilton had expressed of Mr. 
 Burr. 
 
 Upon this latter passage, the historian 
 asserts, Burr seized as the means of forcing 
 Hamilton into a duel. For his agent and 
 assistant therein he selected William P. 
 Van Ness, a young lawyer, one of his most 
 attached partisans, and not less dark, de- 
 signing, cool, and implacable than himself. 
 Van Ness was sent to Hamilton with a 
 copy of Cooper's printed letter, and a note 
 from Burr, insisting upon a prompt and 
 unqualified acknowledgment or denial of 
 the use of any expressions which would 
 warrant Cooper's assertions. 
 
 Hamilton expressed a perfect readiness to 
 avow or disavow any specific opinion which 
 he might be charged with having uttered ; 
 but added that he never would consent to be 
 interrogated generally as to whether he had 
 ever said anything in the course of fifteen 
 years of political competition to justify in- 
 ferences which others might have drawn, 
 thus exposing his candor and sincerity te 
 injurious imputations on the part of all 
 who might have misapprehended him. 
 
 " More than this," said Hamilton in the 
 conclusion of his letter to Burr, " can not 
 fitly be expected of me; especially, it can 
 not be reasonably expected that I shall 
 enter into any explanations upon a basis 
 so vague as that you have adopted. I 
 trust, on more reflection, you will see the 
 matter in the same light. If not, I can 
 
130 
 
 BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 only regret the circumstance, and must 
 abide the consequences." 
 
 Burr's curt, rude, and offensive reply 
 began with intimating that Hamilton's 
 ;etter was greatly deficient in that sincer- 
 ity and delicacy which he professed so 
 much to value. The epithet in question, 
 in the common understanding of it, im- 
 plied dishonor. It having been affixed to 
 Burr's name upon Hamilton's authority, 
 he was bound to say whether he had au- 
 thorized it, either directly, or by uttering 
 expressions or opinions derogatory to 
 Burr's honor. 
 
 It was apparent from this letter, and it 
 was subsequently distinctly stated by Van 
 Ness, that what Burr required was a gen- 
 eral disavowal on the part of Hamilton, of 
 any intention, in any conversation he 
 might ever have held, to convey impres- 
 sions derogatory to the honor of Burr. 
 Desirous to deprive Burr of any possible 
 excuse for persisting in his murderous 
 designs, Hamilton caused a paper to be 
 transmitted to him, through Pendleton, a 
 brother lawyer, who acted as his friend in 
 this matter, to the effect that, if properly 
 addressed for Burr's second letter was 
 considered too insulting to admit of a reply 
 he should be willing to state that the 
 conversation alluded to by Dr. Cooper, so 
 far as he could recall it, was wholly in re- 
 lation to politics, and did not touch upon 
 Burr's private character ; nor should he 
 hesitate to make an equally prompt avowal 
 or disavowal as to any other particular and 
 specific conversation concerning which he 
 might be questioned. 
 
 But as Burr's only object was to find a 
 pretext for a challenge, since he never 
 could have expected the general disavowal 
 he demanded, this offer was pronounced 
 unsatisfactory and evasive; and again, a 
 second time, disavowing in the same breath 
 the charge made against him of predeter- 
 mined hostility, Burr requested Van Ness 
 to deliver a challenge. 
 
 The eleventh of July, at seven in the 
 morning, was the time mutually agreed 
 upon for the duel ; the place, Weehawken, 
 New Jersey, opposite the city of New York ; 
 
 the weapons to be pistols, and the distance 
 ten paces. In the meantime, Hamilton and 
 Burr met once more at the convivial board, 
 namely, at the annual banquet of the Soci- 
 ety of the Cincinnati, of which Hamilton 
 was president and Burr a member. It is 
 related that on this occasion Hamilton was 
 cheerful, and at times merry. He was 
 urged, as the feast wore away, to sing the 
 only song he ever sang or knew, the 
 famous old ballad of "The Drum." It 
 was thought afterward, that he was more 
 reluctant than usual to comply with the 
 company's request ; but after some delay, 
 he said, " Well, you shall have it," and 
 sang it in his best manner, greatly to the 
 delight of the old soldiers by whom he 
 was surrounded. Burr, on the contrary, 
 was reserved, and mingled little with the 
 company, and held no intercourse what- 
 ever with the president. He was never a 
 fluent man, and was generally, in the soci- 
 ety of men, more a listener than a talker. 
 On this occasion, his silence was, there- 
 fore, the less remarked; yet it was re- 
 marked. It was observed, too, that he 
 paid no attention to Hamilton's conversa- 
 tion, nor, indeed, looked toward him, until 
 he struck up his song, when Burr turned 
 toward him, and, leaning upon the table, 
 looked at the singer until the song was 
 done. 
 
 The fatal morning came. Colonel Burr 
 arrived first on the ground, as had been 
 previously agreed. He deliberately took 
 off his coat, surveyed the ground, and 
 then cleared away the bushes, limbs of 
 trees, etc. When General Hamilton ar- 
 rived, the parties exchanged salutations, 
 and the seconds proceeded to make their 
 arrangements. They measured the dis- 
 tance, full ten paces, and cast lots for the 
 choice of position, as also to determine by 
 whom the word should be given, both of 
 which fell to the seconds of Hamilton. 
 They then proceeded to load the pistols in 
 each other's presence, after which the 
 parties took their stations. 
 
 The gentleman who was to give the 
 word now explained to the parties the 
 rules which were to govern them in firing, 
 
BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 131 
 
 SCENE OF THB BURR AND HAMILTON DCEL, WEEHAWKEN. 
 
 which were as follows : ' The parties being 
 placed at their stations, the second who 
 gives the word shall ask them whether 
 they are read}' ; being answered in the 
 affirmative, he shall say Present; after 
 this, the parties shall present and tire 
 when they please. If one fires before 
 the other, the opposite second shall say, 
 One, two, three, fire ; and he shall then 
 fire, or lose his fire.' He then asked if 
 they were prepared ; being answered in 
 the affirmative, he gave the word Present, 
 as had been agreed on, and both parties 
 presented and fired in succession. The 
 fire of Burr took effect ; Hamilton sprang 
 upon his toes with a convulsive movement, 
 
 reeled a little toward the heights, at which 
 moment he involuntarily discharged his 
 pistol, and then fell headlong upon his face, 
 and remained motionless upon the ground. 
 His ball rustled among the branches, seven 
 feet above the head of his antagonist, and 
 four feet wide of him. Burr heard it, 
 looked up, and saw where it had severed a 
 twig. Looking at Hamilton, he beheld 
 him falling, and advanced towards him 
 with a manner and gesture that appeared 
 to be expressive of regret, but without 
 speaking turned about and withdrew, 
 being urged from the field by his friend. 
 No further communication took place be- 
 tween the principals, and the barge that 
 
132 
 
 BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 carried Colonel Burr immediately left the 
 Jersey shore for New York. 
 
 Hamilton was at once borne away ten- 
 derly in the arms of Pendleton, and his 
 necessities ministered to by Dr. Hosack. 
 He had, at this moment, just strength 
 enough to say, " This is a mortal wound, 
 doctor ; " when he sank away, and became 
 to all appearance lifeless. " My vision is 
 indistinct," were his first words. Soon 
 after recovering his sight, he happened to 
 cast his eye upon the case of pistols, and 
 observing the one he had used lying on 
 the outside, he said : 
 
 " Take care of that pistol ; it is undis- 
 charged, and still cocked; -it may go off 
 and do harm ; Pendleton knows (attempt- 
 ing to turn his head towards him) that I ! 
 did not intend to fire at him." 
 
 " Yes, I have already made Dr. Hosack 
 acquainted with your determination as to 
 that," replied Pendleton. 
 
 On approaching the shore, he said, " Let 
 Mrs. Hamilton be immediately sent for ; 
 let the event be gradually broken to her ; 
 but give her hopes." His friend, Mr. 
 Bayard, stood on the wharf in great agita- 
 tion, and, on seeing Hamilton lying in the 
 bottom of the boat, he threw up his arms 
 and burst into a flood of tears and lamen- 
 tation. Hamilton alone appeared tranquil 
 and composed. On being put to bed, a 
 consultation of physicians was held, who 
 united in the opinion that there was no 
 chance of his recovery. General Key, the 
 French consul, also had the goodness to 
 invite the surgeons of the French frigates 
 then in New York harbor, as they had had 
 much experience in gun-shot wounds, to 
 render their assistance. They immedi- 
 ately came, but their opinion was unani- 
 mous as to the hopelessness of the case. 
 The ball had struck the second or third 
 false rib, and fractured it about the middle ; 
 it then passed through the liver and 
 the diaphragm, and as far as was sub- 
 sequently ascertained, lodged in the first 
 or second lumbar vertebra, the latter being 
 considerably splintered, so that the spic- 
 alse we- perceptible to the touch of the 
 finger. 
 
 The news of Hamilton's fall, and prob- 
 ably speedy death, by a duel with the vice- 
 president of the United States, paralyzed 
 the whole nation, as the shocking intelli- 
 gence sped itself over the country. In 
 New York, especially, bulletins, hourly 
 changed, kept the city in agitation. All 
 the circumstances of the catastrophe were 
 told, and re-told, at every corner. The 
 thrilling scenes that were passing at the 
 bedside of the dying man, the consultation 
 of the physicians, the arrival of the stricken 
 family, Mrs. Hamilton's overwhelming 
 sorrow, the resignation and calm dignity 
 of the illustrious sufferer, his broken slum- 
 bers during the night, the piteous specta- 
 cle of the seven children entering together 
 the awful apartment, all these produced 
 an impression on the public that can only 
 he imagined. 
 
 At General Hamilton's request, Bishop 
 Moore and Kev. Dr. Mason visited him at 
 his bedside. To the former he said : " My 
 dear sir, you perceive my unfortunate sit- 
 uation, and no doubt have been made 
 acquainted with the circumstances which 
 led to it. It is my desire to receive the 
 communion at your hands. I hope you 
 will not conceive there is any impropriety 
 in my request. It has for some time past 
 been the wish of my heart, and it was my 
 intention to take an early opportunity of 
 uniting myself to the church by the recep- 
 tion of that holy ordinance." Bishop 
 Moore observed to him, that he must be 
 very sensible of the delicate and trying 
 situation in which, as a minister, he was 
 then placed; that however desirous he 
 might be to afford consolation to a fellow 
 mortal in distress, still it was his duty as 
 an ambassador of the gospel, to hold up the 
 law of God as paramount to all other law, 
 and that, therefore, he must unequivocally 
 condemn the practice which had brought 
 him to his present unhappy condition. 
 Hamilton acknowledged the propriety of 
 these sentiments, and added, " / have no 
 ill-will against Colonel Burr. I met him 
 with a fixed determination to do him no 
 harm. I forgive all that happened." 
 After some other religious conversation 
 
BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL. 
 
 133 
 
 incident to the occasion, he received the 
 sacrament with great devotion, expressing 
 strong confidence in divine mercy. In his 
 interview with Dr. Mason, he exhibited 
 the same spiritual conviction, and repeated 
 the emphatic testimony he had given to 
 Bishop Moore, against the barbarous 
 custom of dueling. 
 
 The next day, Thursday, at eleven 
 o'clock, being about thirty hours after 
 receiving the fatal wound, Hamilton em- 
 braced his wife for the last time, then 
 calmly composed himself to die, and ex- 
 pired without a shudder or a groan, in the 
 prime of his manhood, being forty-seven 
 years of age. 
 
 The deatli of this most illustrious states- 
 man was universally deplored, as a na- 
 tional calamity second only to the death of 
 Washington himself; and, indeed, on ac- 
 count of the tragical circumstances under 
 which the great patriot was brought to 
 his end, the excitement produced through- 
 out the country was, if possible, more 
 startling and profound than that which 
 followed the announcement of Washing- 
 ton's decease. In the city of New York, 
 the most imposing funeral ceremony ever 
 witnessed in America revealed the unex- 
 ampled grief that burdened the public 
 mind. All business was suspended, the 
 bells tolled in solemn requiem, public meet- 
 ings of the various societies were held, the 
 ships in the harbor hoisted their flags at 
 half-mast, and sorrow was depicted on 
 every countenance. 
 
 The indignation against Burr knew no 
 bounds. His fixed determination to bring 
 Hamilton within range of his pistol, feel- 
 ing "sure of being able to kill him," 
 caused his act to be branded as willful 
 murder, and an indictment was duly found 
 against him ; but in a few days he fled, an 
 outlaw and an outcast, and thus eluded 
 justice. Burr's execrable heartlessness 
 may be judged of, by the note written by 
 him to Mr. Allston, his son-in-law, in which 
 
 he said: "General Hamilton died yester- 
 day. The malignant federalists or tories, 
 and the embittered Clintonians, unite in 
 endeavoring to excite public sympathy in 
 his favor and indignation against his an- 
 tagonist. Thousands of absurd falsehoods 
 are circulated with industry. The most 
 illiberal means are practiced in order to 
 produce excitement, and for the moment 
 with effect." 
 
 One week before the time fixed upon for 
 the duel, Hamilton prepared a letter to his 
 wife, to be handed to her in case of his 
 death. In this affecting epistle, he assures 
 her that he had striven by all honorable 
 means to avoid the meeting, and expects 
 to fall in it; he entreats her forgiveness 
 for the calamity his death would bring 
 upon her, and conjures her to meet the 
 blow in calm submission to providence. 
 
 Hamilton's widow, a woman of rare 
 excellence and dignity, survived him some 
 fifty years. Once only did she see her 
 husband's murderer, the circumstances of 
 this occasion being related as follows : In 
 the year 1822, she was traveling from 
 New York to Albany, on one of the 
 boats plying the Hudson. The com- 
 pany had been summoned to dinner. 
 When Mrs. Hamilton had almost reached 
 her seat in the dining-saloon, on rais- 
 ing her eyes she perceived Aaron Burr 
 standing directly opposite to her, with 
 only the narrow width of the table between 
 them. The shock was too much for her 
 system, she uttered a loud scream, fell, 
 and was carried in a fainting state from 
 the apartment. As soon as she recovered, 
 she insisted on being set on shore at the 
 first landing-place, refusing to journey 
 further in the same vessel with Burr. It 
 is said, that, after the removal of Mrs. 
 Hamilton from the dining saloon, Burr 
 deliberately sat down and ate a hearty 
 dinner with the utmost composure. This 
 story, however, wears an air of improba- 
 bility. 
 
XVI. 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE AT MID-DAT. 1806. 
 
 The Darkness of Night Falls upon the Earth. Stars and Planetg in Full Radiance Magnificent Spec- 
 tacle of the Glittering Corona around the Moon and the Brilliant Rosy Protuberances Flaming from 
 the Sun. Splendor of the Returning Night. Similar Eclipse in 1869. Millions of Faces Turned 
 Upward The Phenomenon Viewed with Curiosity, Wonder, and Absorbed Delight Remarkably 
 Fine Weather. Serene and Cloudless Heavens. Business Pursuits Abandoned. The Moon Crossing 
 the Sun. Distinctness of the Lunar Orb. Grand, Dark, Majestic, Mighty. Total Obscurity Some 
 Fire Minutes. Appearance of Nature. Sensations Produced in the Mind. Involuntary Exclama- 
 tions. Effect on Birds and Animals. Triumphs of Astronomical Science. Exquisitely-Constructed 
 Instruments. Revelations of the Spectroscope. Great Thermometrical Changes. Spots on the Sun 
 Examined. Openings in the Moon. Peculiar Color of that Body. Its Dark and Dismal Shadows. 
 Search for New Stars. Meteors 'mid Earth and Moon. Climax of the Impressive Scene. 
 
 "The un'i rim dip* t the sUn rush out I 
 
 With one stride come* the d*rk I " COLKBIDOI. 
 
 IMPLE and well known though the fact may be, according to the ex- 
 planations of astronomical science, that a solar eclipse is caused by the 
 intervention of the moon between the sun and the earth during the 
 daytime, and that the effect of such interposition is to obstruct the 
 sun's rays the light being turned into darkness while the phenome- 
 non lasts a total solar eclipse is, without doubt, the most sublime and awe-inspiring 
 spectacle upon which the eye of man is permitted to gaze. By far the most remarkable 
 exhibition of this kind, was that which occurred June 16, 1806, when the sun in the 
 northern states was totally eclipsed nearly five minutes, about half an hour before noon, 
 the width of the moon's shadow being about one hundred and fifty miles, or about 
 seventy-five on each side of the central line. Since 1806, only one total eclipse of the 
 sun occurred in the Atlantic States, namely in South Carolina and Georgia, November 
 30, 1834; but the eclipse of June 16, 1806, is regarded by astronomers as the most 
 memorable ever known in the United States, that of August 7, 1869, being the next 
 in grandeur and interest. 
 
 The accounts given by Chancellor De Witt, of New York, Dr. Bowditch, of Massa- 
 chusetts, and others, of the phenomenon of 1806, show that its approach was most anx- 
 iously watched, and, as it was to be seen all over Europe and North America, the gaze 
 of the people of both hemispheres was, on that day, simultaneously directed toward the 
 great luminary and center of the physical system. Some of the most remarkable observ- 
 ations made by Dr. Bowditch, of Salem, Mass., will here be given. 
 
 Fortunately for the interests of science, the day was one of remarkably fine weather, 
 scarcely a cloud being visible in any part of the heavens. An assistant was seated 
 
TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 135 
 
 near the doctor, who counted the seconds 
 from the chronometer, thus enabling Dr. 
 Bowditch to mark down with a pencil the 
 time when the first impression was made 
 on the sun's limb, without taking his eye 
 from the telescope till four or five seconds 
 had elapsed, and the eclipse had sensibly 
 increased. As the eclipse advanced, there 
 did not appear to be so great a diminution 
 of the light as was generally expected, and 
 it was not until the sun was nearly cov- 
 ered, that the darkness was very sensible. 
 At thirty-seven minutes and thirty seconds 
 past eleven o'clock, the sun's surface was 
 wholly covered. The last ray of light from 
 the sun's limb disappeared instantaneously. 
 The whole of the moon was then seen sur- 
 rounded by a luminous appearance of con- 
 siderable extent, such as had generally 
 been noticed in total eclipses of the sun. 
 This luminosity, with a twilight bright- 
 ness round the horizon, prevented the 
 darkness from being any greater than it 
 was, during the time that the sun's sur- 
 face remained wholly covered. The de- 
 gree of light can be estimated, on such an 
 occasion, by the number of stars visible to 
 the naked eye ; those noticed at this time 
 were Capella, Aldebaran, Sirius, Procyon, 
 the three bright stars in the belt of Orion, 
 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE IN 1806. 
 
 nd the star a in its shoulder. Venus 
 and Mars were also visible. A candle had 
 been provided to assist in reading off the 
 seconds from the chronometer, but, though 
 it was not found necessary in the garden 
 where these observations were made, it 
 would have been in the house adjoining. 
 
 As the time drew near for witnessing the 
 end of the total darkness, there was no- 
 ticed a visible increase of light in the at- 
 mosphere for about two seconds before any 
 part of the sun's limb was visible in the 
 telescope ; but at thirty-two minutes and 
 eighteen seconds past eleven o'clock the 
 time noted as that of the end of total 
 darkness, the light burst forth with 
 great splendor. After this, the light ap- 
 peared to increase much faster than it 
 had decreased, and in a short time it 
 was as light as in a common cloudy day, 
 the degree of light continually increas- 
 ing, of course, as the eclipse drew to a 
 close. 
 
 The impressions made by such an exhi- 
 bition, upon different minds, are not the 
 least interesting points, in a narrative like 
 this. Mr. Cooper, the novelist, though 
 but a youth at the time of the eclipse, was 
 so enthusiastic an observer of the specta- 
 cle, that, twenty-five years after the event, 
 he wrote a minute account of what he 
 saw and how he felt during the wonderful 
 occurrence. Mr. Cooper states that, as he 
 and the other spectators in his company 
 first discerned, through their glasses, the 
 oval form of the moon darkening the 
 sun's light, an exclamation of delight, al- 
 most triumphant, burst involuntarily from 
 the lips of all. Gradually, and at first 
 quite imperceptibly to the sight, that dark 
 and mysterious sphere gained upon the 
 orb of light. As yet (continues Mr. 
 Cooper), there was no change perceptible 
 in the sunlight falling upon lake and 
 mountain ; the familiar scene wore its 
 usual smiling aspect, bright and glowing 
 as on other days of June. The people, 
 however, were now crowding into the 
 streets, their usual labors were abandoned 
 forgotten for the moment, and all faces 
 were turned upward. Gradually a fifth, 
 and even a fourth, of the sun's disc be- 
 came obscured, and still the unguarded 
 eye could not endure the flood of light. 
 The noonday heat, however, began to 
 lessen, and something of the coolness of 
 early morning returned to the valley. 
 Soon, a somber, yellowish, unnatural color- 
 
136 
 
 TOTAL SOLAE ECLIPSE. 
 
 ing was shed over the country. A great 
 change had taken place. The trees on the 
 distant heights had lost their verdure and 
 their airy character, and were taking the 
 outline of dark pictures graven upon an 
 unfamiliar sky. 
 
 The startling effect of such an abnormal 
 transition in nature, upon animals and 
 
 PROGRESS OF THE SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 fowls, and even upon human beings, has 
 sometimes been described in such a 
 manner as to excite well-grounded suspi- 
 cions of exaggeration, in the minds of 
 those persons to whom has been denied 
 the opportunity of personal observation. 
 But Mr, Cooper states that "all living 
 creatures seemed thrown into a state of 
 agitation. The birds were fluttering to 
 and fro, in great excitement; they seemed 
 to mistrust that this was not the gradual 
 approach of evening, and were undecided 
 in their movements. Even the dogs be- 
 came uneasy, and drew closer to their mas- 
 ters. The eager, joyous look of interest 
 and curiosity, which earlier in the morning 
 had appeared in almost every countenance, 
 was now changed to an expression of won- 
 der, or anxiety, or thoughtfulness, accord- 
 ing to the individual character. Every 
 house now gave up its tenants. As the 
 light failed more and more with every pass- 
 ing second, the children came flocking 
 about their mothers in terror. The women 
 themselves were looking about uneasily for 
 their husbands. The men were very gen- 
 erally silent and grave. Many a laborer 
 left his employment to be near his wife 
 and children, as the dimness and darkness 
 
 increased. It was one of those entirely un- 
 clouded days, less rare in America than in 
 Europe. The steadily-waning light, the 
 gradual approach of darkness, became the 
 more impressive as we observed this abso- 
 lutely transparent state of tho heavens. The 
 birds, which a quarter of an hour earlier 
 had been fluttering about in great agita- 
 tion, seemed now to bo convinced that 
 night was at hand. Swallows were dimly 
 seen dropping into the chimneys, the 
 martins returned to their little boxes, the 
 pigeons flew homo to their dove-cots, and 
 through the open door of a small barn we 
 saw the fowls going to roost. The usual 
 flood of sunlight had now become so much 
 weakened, that we could look upward long, 
 and steadily, without the least pain. The 
 sun appeared like a young moon of three 
 or four days old, though of course with a 
 larger and more brilliant crescent. One 
 after another, tho stars came into view, 
 more rapidly than in the evening twilight, 
 until perhaps fifty stars appeared to us, in 
 a broad dark zone of the heavens, crown- 
 ing the pines on the western mountain. 
 This wonderful vision of the stars, during 
 tha noontide hours of day, filled the spirit 
 with singular sensations. Suddenly, one 
 of my brothers shouted aloud, "The 
 moon ! " Quicker than thought, my eye 
 turned eastward again, and there floated 
 the moon, distinctly apparent, to a degree 
 that was almost fearful. The spherical 
 fona, the character, the dignity, the sub- 
 stance of the planet, were clearly revealed, 
 as I have never beheld them before, or 
 since. It looked grand, dark, majestic, 
 and mighty. Darkness like that of early 
 night now fell upon the village. A few 
 cows, believing that night had overtaken 
 them, were coming homeward from the 
 wild open pastures ; the dew was falling 
 perceptibly, and the thermometer must 
 have fallen many degrees from the great 
 heat of the morning. The lake, the hills, 
 and the buildings of the little town, were 
 swallowed up in the darkness. All labor 
 had ceased. The plaintive note of the 
 whippowil was distinctly heard. A bat 
 came flitting about our heads. Many stars 
 
TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 137 
 
 were now visible. At twelve minutes past 
 eleven, the moon stood revealed in its 
 greatest distinctness a vast black orb, so 
 nearly obscuring the sun that the face of 
 the great luminary -was entirely and abso- 
 lutely darkened, though a corona of rays 
 of light appeared beyond. The gloom of 
 night was upon us. A breathless intensity 
 of interest was felt by all. A group of 
 silent, dusky forms stood near me; one 
 emotion appeared to govern all. Three 
 minutes of darkness, all but absolute, 
 elapsed. They appeared strangely length- 
 ened by the intensity of feeling, and the 
 flood of overpowering thought which filled 
 the mind." Mr. Cooper concludes this 
 record of his pleasing recollections, by 
 stating some of the appearances accompa- 
 nying the restoration of light, and the 
 joyous manifestations on the part of those 
 who witnessed it. 
 
 The calculations made and recorded by 
 Bowditch, show that the beginning of the 
 eclipse was at six minutes and twenty-four 
 seconds past ten o'clock ; the beginning of 
 total darkness was at twenty-five minutes 
 and twenty-six seconds past eleven, and 
 it ended at thirty minutes and fourteen 
 seconds past eleven; the eclipse ended 
 at fifty minutes and forty-two seconds 
 past twelve ; duration of the eclipse, two 
 hours, forty-four minutes, eighteen sec- 
 onds ; duration of the total darkness, four 
 minutes and forty-eight seconds. In the 
 engraved representation of this magnifi- 
 cent and solemn spectacle, the luminous 
 ring round the moon is exactly as it ap- 
 peared in the middle of the eclipse. The 
 edge of the moon was strongly illumin- 
 ated, exhibiting the brilliancy of polished 
 silver. 
 
 But, though the eclipse of 1806 was, at 
 least in the duration of its totality, mem- 
 orable above all precedent, to American 
 observers, the total eclipse of August sev- 
 enth, 1869, was destined to be more im- 
 portant in a scientific point of view, and to 
 fill a more prominent place in history, on 
 account of the great progress in astronomi- 
 cal knowledge and the corresponding im- 
 provement in all the instruments of tele- 
 
 scopic observation, characterizing the lapse 
 of more than three-score years. 
 
 Beginning in the Pacific ocean, just east 
 of Yeddo, the capital of Japan, at sunrise 
 there, the shadow's central point first 
 struck the earth in the Altair mountain 
 range in Eussian Asia, one hundred and 
 sixty-five and a half degrees west from 
 Washington, then passing in a northward 
 curve still, entered United States territory 
 in Alaska, near Prince William's sound, 
 at the hour of noon. Thence it rapidly 
 traversed British Columbia, hit the center 
 of Montana's northern line, struck the 
 Mississippi river near Sioux City, Iowa, 
 passed through Illinois just north of 
 Springfield, shaded segments of Indiana, 
 Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, and North 
 Carolina, and ended its totality in mid- 
 ocean. The course of the eclipse was in 
 the form of an ellipse, and the extreme 
 limits of the obscuration embraced nearly 
 one-half the earth's circumference ; while 
 the central circular patch of darkness was 
 about one hundred and fifty-six miles in 
 diameter. 
 
 Never were more extensive preparations 
 made by governments and men of science, 
 to have thorough observations of a solar 
 
 TOTAL ECLIPSE IN 1869. 
 
 eclipse, than at this time, and never was 
 the weather more propitious for such an 
 event to be noted, in all its phenomena. 
 
 At Springfield, Illinois, one of the most 
 available spots for observation, Professor 
 Peirce, of Harvard College, was in attend- 
 ance. When the total obscuration took 
 place, the heavens and earth presented a 
 
138 
 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 scene of awful sublimity. A brilliant 
 amber-colored corona appeared around the 
 sun and inooii, shooting rays of light out- 
 ward in all directions, when the whole hori- 
 zon was illuminated with light of the same 
 color. The planets Mercury and Venus, and 
 a number of fixed stars, were distinctly visi- 
 ble, but no planetary orbs between Mercury 
 and the sun were discovered. A brilliant 
 rose-colored flame, or protuberance, was 
 noticed on the western limb of the sun dur- 
 ing the period of total obscuration. The 
 phenomenon, known as Bailey's beads, was 
 also distinctly witnessed. According to 
 Prof. Peirce, the last-named appearance is 
 occasioned by the refraction of light, and 
 the corona, or halo, at the time of totality, 
 by the sun's atmosphere. 
 
 Des Moines, Iowa, afforded another most 
 favorable locality for the presence of 
 astronomers, a slight haze only interfering 
 to prevent satisfactory search for the plan- 
 ets supposed to exist inside the orbit of 
 Mercury. Professor Safford's observations 
 showed that the first contact occurred at 
 three o'clock, forty-three minutes, forty- 
 three seconds ; the commencement of the 
 total obscurity was at four o'clock, forty- 
 five minutes, thirty seconds, and its end 
 was at four o'clock, forty-eight minutes, 
 twenty-two seconds ; the last contact was 
 at five o'clock, forty-five minutes, eleven 
 seconds. 
 
 The points of time thus noted by Pro- 
 fessor Safford, were from six to twenty- 
 two seconds later than calculated, according 
 to Washington ; E. P. Hiinenas and Pro- 
 fessor Hillyard observing it. A discrep- 
 ancy was also noticed between the calcu- 
 lation and observation of the corona. It 
 was nearly rhomboidal in form, and very 
 distinct and extended, at some points half 
 a degree beyond the edge of the sun's 
 disc. The rose-colored protuberances ap- 
 peared to the number of five or six, the 
 greatest being on the sun's south-western 
 quarter. Professor Harkness's observa- 
 tions of the protuberances, in the spectro- 
 scope, showed a different spectra for each. 
 But a single band was thrown by the cor- 
 ona. Professor Eastman's observations of 
 
 the thermometer showed a fall of thirteen 
 degrees in the temperature, during the 
 progress of the eclipse. Venus and Mer- 
 cury could be plainly seen, and the dark- 
 ness exceeded that of the night. But the 
 most interesting feature in the aspect of 
 the sun was the protuberances or beads. 
 The largest one was semi-circular in shape, 
 with a finger extending about one-eighth 
 -part of the sun's diameter, directly down- 
 ward as one looked. Another right limb 
 was shaped much like two horns cf an ante- 
 lope. The greatest length of the corona 
 was in the direction of the elliptic. Valu- 
 able observations were also made here by 
 Professors Peters, Eraser, Eogers, Norton, 
 and Lane. 
 
 Professors Hough and Murray made 
 some valuable observations at Mattoon, 
 Illinois, one of their instruments being pro- 
 vided with means for accurately measuring 
 the diversions of the protuberances on the 
 sun or corona. When the sun became 
 totally obscured, the darkness was equal to 
 that of a moonlight night, and the temper- 
 ature was forty-two degrees cooler than one 
 hour before. Six spots were visible on the 
 surface of the sun before the eclipse, two 
 of which were very prominent, and the 
 others much less. The cusps on the moon 
 had a ragged and blurred appearance, and, 
 near them, Bailey's beads were seen by all 
 observers, extending through an arc of 
 fifty degrees. The moment the eclipse 
 became total, the flame-like protuberances 
 were seen with wonderful distinctness, one 
 very large on the lower limb of the sun, 
 and three nearly as large on the upper 
 limbs, while at least seven or eight of 
 them in all were visible. The one on the 
 right hand, or lower limb, had somewhat 
 the appearance of a full-rigged ship with 
 sails set. In its part nearest the moon 
 were two or three jet black spots. To the 
 naked eye, it seemed as though there were 
 openings in the moon, two on the-east side 
 and one on the south-west side. Just after 
 the total obscurity, through the openings, 
 the lurid glow of the sun was plainly visi- 
 ble. The corona was not, as generally 
 described, a halo of light surrounding the 
 
TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 139 
 
 moon, but appeared iu the shape of five 
 forked prongs on the upper circumference 
 of the moon. These points presented a 
 radiant appearance. The generally-re- 
 ceived theory regarding this corona that 
 it is the atmosphere of the sun did not 
 seem to be sustained by the observations 
 made at this point. Although search was 
 made, no planetary bodies were observed 
 between Mercury and the sun. During the 
 totality phase, Mercury, Venus, Regulus, 
 Mars, Saturn, Denebata, and other stars, 
 appeared in full view. The temperature 
 in the shade, at the beginning of the 
 eclipse, was seventy-seven degrees ; during 
 the totality, forty-five degrees ; and at the 
 end of the eclipse, it had risen to seventy 
 degrees. At three o'clock and forty min- 
 utes, in the sun, on the grass, the ther- 
 mometer was at one hundred degrees. At 
 a few minutes after four, it rose to one 
 hundred and two degrees, while during the 
 totality it fell to sixty, but subsequently 
 rose to eighty. 
 
 Dr. B. A. Gould and Professor Coffin 
 had charge of the observations made at 
 Burlington, Iowa, by direction of the 
 United States government, with whom 
 were also associated Professors Morton, 
 Mayer, Hines, watson, Merriman, Van 
 Fleck, Johnson, and others, either as ob- 
 servers or visitors. Two points were paid 
 special attention to at this place, namely, 
 a search for those planets which Leverrier 
 supposed to exist between the sun and 
 Mercury, and the character of the corona. 
 
 For this purpose, a telescope of peculiar 
 construction was employed, being of the 
 least magnifying power combined with the 
 greatest intensity of light possible. The 
 attempts at measuring the corona were 
 necessarily vague, but its height above the 
 edge of the moon was computed at full six- 
 teen minutes, some four hundred and 
 forty thousand miles, while the stream- 
 ers, or longer projections of its light, 
 extended some thirty minutes beyond the 
 surface, the whole diameter of the sun 
 being thirty-two minutes. The color of 
 the moon during the total obscuration was 
 observed, and decided to be not jet black, 
 
 as represented by some, but a dark slat 
 color. The corona was an exquisitely pure 
 white, which, as it faded into the dark 
 background of the sky, became gray. It 
 was visible one minute and twenty-six 
 seconds before totality, and one minute 
 after, and was extremely variable in sym- 
 metry of form. Three sketches were 
 taken in less than three minutes of the 
 duration, in which the corona showed 
 marked change of outline. The protuber- 
 ances commonly called rosy, by observers 
 at other places, here looked white to the 
 naked eye, with an opera-glass slightly ro- 
 seate, and with the telescope red. At the 
 moment of totality, the planets were visi- 
 ble, ranged in perfect brilliancy ; Mercury, 
 ruddy as Mars, and Arcturus and Regulus, 
 fixed stars of the first magnitude, were 
 plain to the unassisted eye. The right 
 protuberance on the sun's lower limb had 
 a cellular or honey-combed appearance, not 
 like a flame. 
 
 In the search made at Burlington for 
 intra-mercurial planets, the light was shut 
 off of the corona by means of occulting 
 circles, and the region was carefully stud- 
 ied. Search was made for the star Pi Le- 
 onis, a fixed star of five and eight-tenths 
 magnitude, fifty minutes distance from the 
 sun, and it was actually seen, yet so faint, 
 that, if it had not been known to be there, 
 it could not have been discovered. II 
 there were any star of the fifth or sixth 
 magnitude there, it would have been 
 observed ; but no such star could be 
 detected. 
 
 Great preparations were made at Shel- 
 byville, Kentucky, for a complete observ- 
 ance of the phenomenon. One of the 
 most interesting discoveries made here, by 
 Professor Winlock, at the spectroscope, 
 was that of eleven bright lines in the 
 spectrum of the protuberances of the sun, 
 instead of the smaller number hitherto 
 determined. He also observed a shower 
 of meteors between the earth and moon. 
 The beautiful protuberances appeared as 
 red flames, and were seen by the naked 
 eye. Bailey's beads, as well as the dark 
 and dismal shadows of the moon, sailing 
 
140 
 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 away through the air, were noted. Mr. 
 Searle, whose specialty it was to search 
 for intra-mercurial planets, did not succeed 
 in finding any, reporting nothing fainter 
 than Regulus near the sun. Some mo- 
 ments before the total phase, the usual 
 phenomena of distraction among the birds 
 of the air and the cattle occurred. Six 
 minutes before totality, a deathly ashen 
 hue overspread the countenances of all, 
 
 ECLIPSE, AS SEEN IN BRAZIL. 
 
 and for a while the faint-hearted were 
 almost terrified. The general phenomena 
 at all the places where the eclipse was 
 complete, or nearly so, were the vacilla- 
 tion of the wind, the deep, strange shadow, 
 the yellowish pink atmosphere in the west, 
 the flickering and wavy appearance of the 
 sun's rays when the eclipse was at its 
 height, the chilly feeling, the disturbance 
 among the birds and fowls, and the sight 
 of certain planets with the naked eye. 
 
 At Newbern, North Carolina, the ther- 
 mometer fell ten and one-half degrees, 
 during the time from first contact to total 
 obscuration. The sky was intensely blue, 
 at totality, and studded with glittering 
 stars, while the north-west glowed with a 
 deep crimson orange hue. Around the 
 black body of the moon glowed a ring of 
 molten silver, whence radiated the corona, 
 an immense halo ; and, just as the last 
 rays of the sun disappeared, this halo, 
 with prominent projections like a huge 
 star, burst out all around the disc of the 
 moon, forming a most impressive climax 
 to the whole phenomenon ; directly at the 
 bottom, glowed with intense brilliancy a 
 
 rose-colored projection, visible to the naked 
 eye ; a few seconds more, and another 
 glittered at the extreme right and then 
 another, and, successively, six or more 
 pale ruby brilliants burned with dazzling 
 effulgence in their silver setting; a second 
 or two more, and the silvering on the right 
 melted into golden beads; another, and 
 the glorious sunlight flashed forth. The 
 corona disappeared. The northern sky 
 was radiant with a new day-break at six 
 o'clock in the afternoon, the dark shadow 
 of the moon swept southward, and the 
 chilly gloominess rolled away into the 
 southern sky. The small amount of light 
 that fell upon the trees and buildings, just 
 before and after the total obscuration, 
 lighted them up with a brilliancy most 
 peculiar; the light was more diffusive 
 than moonlight, and the shadows were 
 more distinctly marked and visible. It 
 was a pale golden light ; the edges of the 
 distant woods were more apparent than in 
 the full sunlight, each tree seeming to 
 stand out by itself, the nearest approach 
 to such a light being that known as the 
 calcium, the latter, however, being white 
 instead of pale golden. At the instant of 
 complete obscuration, when the corona 
 flashed around the dark disc of the moon, 
 there also flashed into view the larger stars 
 and planets. Venus, twice an evening 
 star in one day, hung half-way down from 
 the zenith ; near the sun glistened a star 
 of the first magnitude, Eegulus ; while 
 overhead the intense blue sky was full of 
 them. 
 
 Much scientific interest centered around 
 the expedition sent by government to the 
 new and distant territory of Alaska. This 
 expedition left Sitka, July 15th, in an 
 open boat, for the Chilkah river, but, in 
 consequence of bad weather, it was eleven 
 days in reaching the positions selected 
 only twenty miles from the central path of 
 totality. It was found impracticable to 
 carry the instruments and provisions over 
 Iron Mountain range, for the determina- 
 tion of the latitude and longitude and the 
 magnetic variation obtained, before the 
 date of the eclipse. The seventh of 
 
TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE. 
 
 141 
 
 August was the cloudiest day experienced, 
 but breaks in the clouds enabled the party 
 to watch different phases, and the begin- 
 ning of totality was accurately noted. In- 
 stantly after obscuration, rose-colored 
 flames were visible to the unassisted eye, 
 and their extent, position, elevation, and 
 approximity, measured on the south-east 
 and south-west parts of the sun's limb. 
 The corona was visible over a part of the 
 limb only. The end of the eclipse was not 
 seen, but the whole picture was magnifi- 
 cent. The phenomena of coming darkness 
 and growing light were very marked along 
 the course of the valley. The Hon. W. 
 H. Seward, and his accompanying tourists, 
 visited Professor Davidson's camp, and 
 watched with intense interest and solemn 
 delight the phases of the eclipse, particu- 
 larly the rose-colored flames and corona. 
 A party at the mouth of the river had the 
 best view of the totality ; the clouds broke, 
 and a large clear space enabled them to see 
 the flames and corona, in their marvelous 
 beauty, also the planet Mercury, and stars 
 of the fourth magnitude. At Sitka, the 
 eclipse was watched through broken 
 clouds. The Indians were fearfully 
 alarmed, and hid themselves in their 
 houses, or took to the bushes. 
 
 As usual, on the occurrence of such a 
 
 wonderful sight, some strange incidents 
 transpired. In his account of the observa- 
 tions made by Professor Watson, at Mount 
 Pleasant, Iowa, Professor Tyler narrates 
 the case of a good man who went round 
 the town for days beforehand, and de- 
 nounced the impiety of the scientific pro- 
 ceedings going on that the astronomers 
 were profanely attempting to pry into 
 God's secrets, and that he had veiled his 
 sun in order to baffle them. The cloudy 
 weather which continued up to the last 
 day seemed to give some support to his 
 declarations ; but, notwithstanding his 
 assertion that God would keep his rain 
 a-going, and prevent the use of their irre- 
 ligious telescopes, the day cleared off with 
 the utmost splendor. Another local 
 prophet announced that the eclipse was a 
 judgment upon the world for its abomina- 
 tions, and that the path of its shadow over 
 the earth would be marked by utter blight. 
 But these deluded prophets of evil were, 
 indeed, rare exceptions ; millions of man- 
 kind watched, with reverential and de- 
 lighted satisfaction, the obedience of the 
 two great luminaries to the eternal laws 
 which govern their existence ; and Science, 
 the hand-maid and interpreter of Nature, 
 gave new assurance of her sublime and 
 beneficent mission. 
 
XVII. 
 CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF AARON BURR. 1806. 
 
 Lawless Scheme of Conquest and Dominion at the South-west. A New Empire Contemplated, 
 with Burr as Sovereign. Seizure of His Flotilla and Dispersion of His Men when Ready 
 to Embark, by the Federal Forces. Capture and Arraignment of Burr for High Trea- 
 son. Reckless Character of Burr. His Unscrupulous Ambitions. Enlists Blennerhassett in 
 His Plans. Their Expedition Arranged Mexico the Ultimate Point. Discovery of the 
 Whole Plot. Its Complete Frustration. Burr Flees in Disguise. Scene at His Arrest. 
 Attempt to Escape. The Iron-hearted Man in Tears. His Social Fascination. Preparations 
 
 for l ' ie ^ ria '- I" Leg a ' an( ^ Forensic In- 
 terest. Acquittal on Technical Grounds. 
 Shunned as a Man of Infamy. Devotion of 
 His Daughter Theodosia. Lifelong and Un- 
 alterable Love. Her Mysterious Fate. 
 Burr's Anguish and Agony. A Moral 
 Wreck and Warning. 
 
 " His country's curse, his children's shame. 
 Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame." 
 
 S events proved, it remained for Aaron Burr to add one more 
 political crime to his corrupt career as a public man, and one 
 more dark chapter to his country's history. Staggering under the weight of ob- 
 loquy and disgrace brought down upon him by his cold-blooded disposal of Alex- 
 ander Hamilton, on the fatal plains of Weehawken, he still sought some means of 
 triumphing over his enemies and attaining distinction and power. Strong and 
 resolute in the operations of his ever-active mind, his ambition was equally restless 
 and far-reaching. Abandoned by his once-admiring political associates, he became an 
 exile, in one of the then far-off western states, his brain teeming with schemes of 
 wealth, conquest, and dominion. 
 
 In the autumn of 1806, President Jefferson learned that mysterious proceedings 
 were going on along the Ohio : boats preparing, stores of provisions collecting, and 
 a number of suspicious characters in movement. A confidential agent sent by the 
 government authorities to the spot, warned the president that Burr was the prime 
 mover; and General Wilkinson, who commanded near New Orleans, intimated that 
 propositions of a daring and dangerous import had been transmitted to him by 
 that personage. The ostensible pretext was, the forming of a large agricultural 
 settlement on the banks of the Washita in Louisiana, a tributary of the Mississippi ; 
 but the various preparations, the engagement for six months only, the purchase 
 and building of boats, the provision of muskets and bayonets, pointed to something 
 of a very different character either the formation of the western territory into a 
 separate government, or an expedition against Mexico, sought to be justified by a 
 
CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF BURR. 
 
 143 
 
 boundary difference that had arisen with 
 Spain. In fact, the erection of a new 
 empire, with Burr at its head. 
 
 Burr's chief associate in the plans which 
 he had thus formed was Harman Blenner- 
 hassett, and the story of their acquain- 
 tance, friendship and confederation, 
 borders strongly on the romantic. Blen- 
 nerhassett was one of the Irish patriots 
 who were compelled to flee from Ireland 
 after their attempt to liberate themselves 
 from the thralldom of England, and was 
 the classmate and friend of the celebrated 
 Thomas Addis Emrnett. He was pos- 
 sessed of a large amount of property, the 
 greater part of which he was fortunate 
 enough to render available in money 
 before his departure. Disgusted with the 
 corruption of courts, and glad to escape 
 the turmoil of politics, he sought retire- 
 ment in the western wilderness, on a beau- 
 tiful island in the Ohio, then on the 
 borders of civilization. Here he built a 
 princely mansion, and embellished it in a 
 most costly manner. Situated on the 
 borders of Virginia, Kentucky and Ohio, 
 he had access to very refined society, with 
 which it was his custom constantly to 
 intermingle and exchange civilities. His 
 hospitality was unbounded ; and, dealt out 
 as it was by his own chivalric courtesy 
 and the grace of his beautiful wife, his 
 island became the general resort for all 
 the country around, and it is even yet cel- 
 ebrated for the splendid revelries and 
 entertainments of which it was once the 
 scene. 
 
 Blennerhassett was a fine sample of a 
 polished Irish gentleman, and rendered 
 himself a very affectionate object of regard, 
 by the amenity of his manners and his 
 disposition. His lady was a woman of 
 rare beauty and accomplishments, which 
 were heightened by a pure and unimpeach- 
 able character. She reigned the queen of 
 this beautiful kingdom of taste and refine- 
 ment which Blennerhassett had created on 
 the Ohio ; and, according to contemporary 
 accounts, she deported herself with an ele- 
 gance and dignity that might have become 
 a throne. She was also a woman of high 
 
 spirit and ambition, and when Burr, aware 
 of her commanding influence over her hus- 
 band, confidentially intrusted her with his 
 plans, she was fired with the boldness and 
 intrepidity of his enterprise, and immedi- 
 ately determined to engage her husband as 
 an associate. Blennerhassett, being a 
 man of ductile temper, was easily induced 
 by the dazzling representations of prospec- 
 tive glory and honor which were set before 
 him, to become a participator with Burr. 
 He was, moreover, a liberalist of the 
 French school, of which fact Aaron Burr 
 was well aware ; and it would seem that 
 the gorgeous picture which Burr held up 
 to him, of Mexico redeemed from tyranny 
 by their united efforts, inspired his whole 
 nature, as he entered with enthusiasm into 
 what he was led to regard an honorable 
 and humane undertaking. 
 
 When once pledged to Burr, urder the 
 mastering genius of his wife, the exiled 
 patriot actively engaged in enlisting men, 
 building boats, and preparing the essen- 
 tials of his expedition. Many of the most 
 respectable citizens of the neighboring 
 country, being influenced by the flattering 
 promises held out, were induced to con- 
 tribute funds, and connect themselves with 
 the affair. The entertainments on the 
 island were, with the progress of events, 
 broken up, and its shores echoed only to 
 the muffled oar of the conspirators, as they 
 crossed from the adjacent banks, or to the 
 tramp of bold adventurers, as they congre- 
 gated on the beach to resolve and discuss 
 their plans. 
 
 Though somewhat anticipating the 
 thread of the narrative, it may here be 
 stated, as illustrating the character of a 
 truly brave woman and devoted wife, that 
 a large number of flat-boats had been built 
 on the Muskingum, and sent over to the 
 island, and everything was ripe for a 
 movement, when the plot becams known 
 to the public authorities. Blennerhassett 
 was very speedily deserted by his follow- 
 ers ; and Buell, who commanded the gov- 
 ernment militia, went over with a small 
 detachment to arrest Burr's great accom- 
 plice. He had hardly set his foot on the 
 
144 
 
 CONSPIRACY- AND TEIAL OF BURR. 
 
 island, before he was met by Mrs. Blen- 
 nerhassett, whose spirit seemed to rise with 
 the increasing desperation of her fortunes. 
 She had seen the party coming, and, 
 snatching up a pair of her husband's pis- 
 tols, she ran from the house to meet them. 
 Just as the militia-major stepped out of 
 the boat, she seized him by the shoulder, 
 and, thrusting him back, presented two 
 formidable pistols full in his face, cocked 
 and primed, saying in the most positive 
 tone, 
 
 " One step farther, and I will send you 
 into eternity; it is easier for me to do than 
 to say it ! " 
 
 Her splendid figure, drawn up to its 
 full height, her eye fixed with a strong 
 and determined gaze, her hands clenching 
 firmly the weapons which she held at 
 arm's length, these told the militia- 
 major, in language not to be mistaken, the 
 terms on which he might advance. It is 
 no disparagement of his military or manly 
 qualities to say, that the old soldier quailed 
 before the courageous woman and her trag- 
 ical determination, and was forced to turn 
 without his victim. 
 
 The frustration of Burr's scheme was 
 largely due to the revelations made by 
 General Wilkinson, in whom Burr had 
 confided so far as to communicate quite 
 fully the character and mode of the 
 proposed expedition. The tenor of this 
 communication was, that he, Burr, had ob- 
 tained funds, and had actually commenced 
 the enterprise, detachments from different 
 points and under different pretenses being 
 ready to rendezvous on the Ohio by the 
 first of November, to meet on the Missis- 
 sippi, Wilkinson to be second in com- 
 mand to Burr only, and to dictate the 
 rank and promotion of the officers. Burr 
 was to proceed westward with his daugh- 
 ter, whose husband would follow in Octo- 
 ber, with a company of choice spirits. 
 Wilkinson was also asked to send an intel- 
 ligent and confidential friend to confer 
 with Burr. bringing a list of all persons 
 known to lao general, west of the moun- 
 tains, likely to prove useful, together 
 with four or five commissions of Wilkin- 
 
 son's officers, to be borrowed upon some 
 pretense, and duly to Le returned. To 
 this was added the assurance, that already 
 had orders been given to the contractor, 
 to forward six months' provisions to points 
 Wilkinson should name this not to be 
 used until the last moment, and then 
 under proper injunctions. Burr stated his 
 plan of operations to be as follows : To 
 move down rapidly from the Falls on the 
 fifteenth of November, with the first five 
 hundred or one thousand men in light 
 boats, to be at Natchez between the fifth 
 and fifteenth of December, there to meet 
 Wilkinson and determine as to the expe- 
 diency of seizing on or passing by Baton 
 Rouge ; that the people of the country to 
 which the movement was directed were 
 ready to extend a cordial welcome, their 
 agents then with Burr declaring that, if 
 he would protect their religion and not 
 subject them to a foreign power, in three 
 weeks all would be settled. In concluding 
 his letter to Wilkinson, Burr in glowing 
 rhapsody said: 
 
 " The gods invite to glory and fortune 1 
 It remains to be seen whether we deserve 
 the boon. The bearer of this goes express 
 to you ; he will hand a formal letter of 
 introduction to you from Burr. He is a 
 man of inviolable honor and perfect dis- 
 cretion, formed to execute rather than to 
 project, capable of relating facts with fidel- 
 ity and incapable of relating them other- 
 wise ; he is thoroughly informed of the 
 plans and intentions of Burr, and will dis- 
 close to you as far as you inquire, and no 
 farther. He has imbibed a reverence for 
 your character, and may be embarrassed 
 in your presence ; put him at ease and he 
 will satisfy you." 
 
 It appeared to be Burr's plan, to make 
 Blennerhassett's island, in the Ohio river, 
 the place of rendezvous ; there to fit out 
 boats furnished with armed men, and send 
 them down the river. 
 
 Burr had counted too confidently upon 
 Wilkinson's becoming an accessory and 
 participant. The latter instantly resolved, 
 after reading the cipher-letter, to avail 
 himself of the reference it made to the 
 
CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF BURR. 
 
 145 
 
 bearer, Mr. Swartwout, and, in the course 
 of some days, drew from him the following 
 disclosure : That he had been dispatched 
 by Colonel Burr from Philadelphia ; had 
 passed through the states of Ohio and 
 Kentucky, and proceeded from Louisville 
 for St. Louis, expecting there to find Wil- 
 kinson ; but discovering that Wilkinson 
 had descended the river, he procured a 
 skiff, hired hands, and followed the gen- 
 eral down the Mississippi to Fort Adams, 
 and from thence set out for Natchitoches, 
 in company with Captains Spark and 
 Hooke, under the pretense of a disposition 
 to take part in the campaign against the 
 Spaniards, then pending. That Colonel 
 Burr, with the support of a powerful asso- 
 ciation extending from New York to New 
 Orleans, was levying an armed body of 
 seven thousand men from the western 
 states and territories, with a view to carry 
 an expedition against the provinces of 
 Mexico, and that five hundred men, under 
 the command of Colonel Swartwout and 
 a Colonel or Major Tyler, were to de- 
 scend the Alleghany, for whose accom- 
 modation light-boats had been built and 
 were ready. 
 
 In reply to Wilkinson's inquiry, as to 
 what course was to be pursued, answer 
 was made that the territory would be revo- 
 lutionized, where the people were ready to 
 join them ; that there would be some seiz- 
 ing, probably, at New Orleans ; that they 
 expected to be ready to march or embark 
 about the first of February, intending to 
 land at Vera Cruz, and to march from 
 thence to Mexico. General Wilkinson now 
 remarked, " There are several millions of 
 dollars in the bank of this place j" to 
 which reply was made, " We know it full 
 well." On the general's further observing 
 that he presumed they certainly did not 
 mean to violate private property, Burr's 
 agent said that they meant to borrow, and 
 would return it; that they must equip 
 themselves in New Orleans, that they 
 expected naval protection from Great Brit- 
 ain ; that the captains and officers of the 
 American navy were so disgusted with the 
 government, that they were ready to join ; 
 
 that similar disgusts prevailed throughout 
 the western country, where the people 
 were zealous in favor of the enterprise, 
 and that pilot-boat built schooners had 
 been contracted for along the southern 
 coast for their service. 
 
 Though determined to deceive him, if 
 possible, General Wilkinson avers not- 
 withstanding the charge which has been 
 brought against him of at one time favor- 
 ing and subsequently turning his back 
 upon Burr's scheme that he replied that 
 he could never dishonor his commission ; 
 that he also duped the agent by expressing 
 admiration of the plan, arid by observing, 
 that, although he could not join the expe- 
 dition, the engagements which the Span- 
 iards had prepared for him at the front 
 might prevent his opposing it. Yet, as 
 soon as General Wilkinson had fully 
 deciphered the letter, he declared his inten- 
 tion to oppose the lawless enterprise with 
 all the force at his command, and immedi- 
 ately informed President Jefferson. With 
 the exception of the attack on the frigate 
 Chesapeake, Commodore Barron, by the 
 British frigate Leopard, and the embargo 
 and non-intercourse measures against 
 England, few occurrences caused greater 
 anxiety to the president, during his eight 
 years' official term, than this of Burr. 
 
 Government spies had for some time 
 been on Burr's track, and, in view of his 
 supposed design to attempt a separation of 
 the western states from the federal union, 
 the governor of Ohio was authorized by 
 the legislature to proceed in such a manner 
 as he deemed best to check and break \ip 
 the movement. Accordingly, by the 
 middle of December, ten boats with stores 
 were arrested on the Muskingum, and in a 
 short time after, four more were seized by 
 the troops at Marietta. Blennerhassett, 
 Tyler, and about forty others, left the 
 island on the night of December tenth, 
 and sailed down the river, barely escaping 
 arrest by the military authorities of Ohio. 
 On the sixteenth, this party united with 
 one commanded by Davis Floyd, at the 
 Falls, and, ten days after, the whole force 
 joined Burr at the mouth of the Cumber- 
 
146 
 
 CONSPIRACY AND TEIAL OF BUKR. 
 
 BREAKING-HI' OF BURR'S EXPEDITION 
 
 BURR AXD 1113 DELUDED FOLLOWERS. 
 
 land ; on the twenty-ninth, the adventur- 
 ers passed Fort Massac. 
 
 In the meantime, the United States 
 government had not been inactive. Pres- 
 ident Jefferson's proclamation cautioned 
 all citizens against joining the enterprise, 
 and orders were issued to the United 
 States troops, then stationed along the 
 Ohio and Mississippi, to capture the boats 
 and make prisoners all on board of them, 
 including, of course, the chief conspirator. 
 Ample precaution had likewise been taken 
 by General Wilkinson, for the protection 
 and defense of New Orleans. On the 
 fourth of January, Burr was at Fort Pick- 
 ering, Chickasaw Bluffs ; and soon after at 
 Bayou Pierre. But as he approached 
 New Orleans, he found such a state of 
 things in respect to public sentiment and 
 military equipment, as to completely baffle 
 his plans. He accordingly proceeded to 
 the Tombigbee, on his way to Florida, 
 
 having landed with a single companion on 
 the banks of the Mississippi, in the middle 
 of January. 
 
 Close pursuit was made of Burr by 
 Lieutenant Edmund P. Gaines, at the 
 head of a file of mounted soldiers, and in a 
 short time they encountered the object of 
 their search, with his traveling companion. 
 Gaines rode forward, and accosting one of 
 the strangers, whom he suspected to be 
 the leader-in-chief, remarked 
 
 " I presume, sir, that I have the honor 
 of addressing Colonel Burr." 
 
 " I am a traveler," answered Burr, " and 
 in a strange land, and do not recognize 
 your right to ask such a question." 
 
 "I arrest you" responded Gaines, "at 
 the instance of the United States." 
 
 " By what authority do you arrest me, 
 a stranger, on the highway, on my own 
 private business ? " 
 
 " I am an officer of the United States 
 army, and hold in my hand the proclama- 
 tion of the president, as well as that of the 
 governor of the Mississippi territory, 
 directing your arrest." 
 
 " But you are a young man, and perhaps 
 not aware of the responsibility of thus 
 arresting a traveler." 
 
 " I am perfectly aware of my duties, in 
 the premises, and shall endeavor to per- 
 form them." 
 
 Burr now broke out in a stream of vehe- 
 ment denunciation of the proclamations. 
 
CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF BURR. 
 
 147 
 
 and warning Gaines that, in carrying out 
 their illegal requisitions, he would be in- 
 curring the most serious liabilities. His 
 manner was firm, his tone imperious, his 
 words keen and forcible ; but the resolute 
 young officer told him his mind was made 
 up, the prisoner must accompany him to 
 his quarters, where he would be treated 
 with all the respect due the ex-vice- 
 president of the United States, so long as 
 he made no attempt to escape. He was 
 then conducted to Fort Stoddart, and 
 thence was conveyed on horseback, in 
 charge of Captain Perkins, to Richmond, 
 Virginia, to be tried by the United States 
 on a charge of high treason, before Chief- 
 Justice Marshall, of the supreme federal 
 court. 
 
 Strange and rapid were Burr's vicissi- 
 tudes. From being vice-president of the 
 republic, the idol of a powerful and domi- 
 nant party, he had become the slayer of 
 America's greatest statesman, and then a 
 bold and disowned adventurer. Defeated 
 and pursued, he was indeed a hopeless 
 fugitive. When he fled from the authori- 
 ties in the Mississippi territory, he dis- 
 guised himself in a boatman's dress; his 
 pantaloons were of coarse, copperas-dyed 
 cloth, with a roundabout of inferior drab; 
 his hat, a flapping, wide-brim beaver, had, 
 in times long past, been white, but now 
 gave evidence of having encountered much 
 rough weather. He finally found himself 
 a prisoner, on his way to be arraigned be- 
 fore a jury of his country, for high crimes 
 and misdemeanors. Yet his fascinating 
 power over men's minds was not yet 
 extinguished. On being placed under 
 guard, to be conveyed to Richmond, it was 
 thought necessary by the directing officer, 
 to take every man composing the squad 
 aside, and obtain the most solemn pledges 
 that, upon the whole route, they would 
 hold no interviews with Burr, nor suffer 
 him to escape alive. His power of fasci- 
 nating and making strong impressions 
 upon the human mind, and attaching men 
 to him by association, could allow of no 
 familiarity. 
 
 A characteristic incident occurred on 
 
 the route to Richmond. On reaching the 
 confines of South Carolina, Captain Per- 
 kins watched Burr more closely than ever ; 
 for, in this state lived the son-in-law of 
 Burr, Colonel Allston, a gentleman of 
 talents, wealth and influence, and after- 
 wards governor of the state. Upon enter- 
 ing the frontiers of Georgia, Perkins 
 endeavored to convey his prisoner in 
 by-roads, to avoid the towns, lest he should 
 be rescued. The plan was attended with 
 difficulty ; they were often lost the march 
 impeded the highway again resumed. 
 Before entering the town of Chester, in 
 South. Carolina, the party halted. Two 
 men were placed before Burr, two on 
 either side, and two behind, and, in this 
 manner, they passed near a tavern on the 
 street, where many persons were standing, 
 and music and dancing were heard in the 
 house. Burr conceived it a favorable 
 opportunity for escape, and, suddenly dis- 
 mounting, exclaimed 
 
 "I am Aaron Burr, under military 
 arrest, and claim protection of the civil 
 authorities ! " 
 
 Perkins leaped from his horse, with 
 several of his men, and ordered him 
 instantly to re-mount. 
 
 "I will not!" replied Burr. 
 Not wishing to shoot him, Perkins 
 threw down his pistols, and, being a man 
 of prodigious strength, and the prisoner 
 rather small, seized him around the waist 
 and placed him in his saddle, as though he 
 was a child. One of the guards now 
 caught the reins of the bridle, slipped 
 them over the horse's head, and led him 
 rapidly on. The astonished citizens had 
 seen a party enter their village with a 
 prisoner; had heard him appeal to them 
 for protection ; had witnessed the feat of 
 Perkins; and the party vanished, before 
 they had time to recover from their confu- 
 sion for, when Burr dismounted, the 
 guards cocked their pistols, and the people 
 ran within the piazza to escape from 
 danger. Far off in the outskirts of the 
 village, the party again halted. Burr 
 was intensely agitated ; the hitherto iron- 
 hearted man was in tears! It was the 
 
148 
 
 CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF BURR. 
 
 first time any one had ever seen Aaron 
 Burr unmanned. 
 
 On trial, at last, the whole United 
 States waited the result with profoundest 
 interest. It was one of the most memora- 
 ble state occasions, in the history of human 
 governments. Upon the bench sat the 
 venerated Marshall, calm, dignified, 
 learned. For the prosecution, there ap- 
 peared District Attorney Hay and the 
 renowned William Wirt. For the defend- 
 ant, Luther Martin, Edmund Randolph, 
 John Wickham, Benjamin Botts, and, 
 rivaling all the rest, Burr himself. On 
 the jury were such men as John Randolph 
 and Littleton W. Tazewell. Among the 
 spectators were Commodore Truxton, Gen- 
 erals Eaton and Jackson, Washington 
 Irving, Winfield Scott, William B. Giles, 
 John Taylor. Burr was of course the cen- 
 tral figure in this master scene. After a 
 trial lasting three or four weeks in mid- 
 summer, during which the legal exertions 
 and forensic talent and power displayed on 
 both sides were indeed prodigious, the 
 jury returned a verdict, "that Aaron Burr 
 is not proved to be guilty, under the 
 indictment, by any evidence submitted to 
 us; we, therefore, find him not guilty." 
 The prosecution failed and broke do^n in 
 its legal proofs, and consequent:}* the 
 indictments against the other conspirators 
 were never pursued. 
 
 Blennerhassett found himself stripped 
 of his possessions, because of what he had 
 embarked in this calamitous expedition. 
 He went to England, in quest of an ap- 
 pointment to office, and to Ireland, to look 
 after some reversionary claims, but unsuc- 
 cessfully in both cases, and, bankrupt and 
 broken-hearted, he removed to the isle of 
 Guernsey, and there died in 1831. Mrs. 
 Blennerhassett died, a few years after, in 
 New York, in the most abject poverty, 
 and was buried by some Irish females. 
 
 Burr, without friends or fortune, became 
 an exile in Europe, where he lived in ex- 
 treme penury, and everywhere shunned as 
 a felon and outlaw. He was peremptorily 
 ordered by the government of England to 
 quit that realm, being regarded as a spy, 
 
 and, on going to France, was there kept 
 under the closest police surveillance. Re- 
 turning after some years of this kind of 
 life, to his native land, he resumed the 
 profession of the law, but the ban of soci- 
 ety rested upon him, and he was, as he 
 himself expressed it, severed from the rest 
 of mankind. 
 
 Yet there was one in the wide world 
 who never ceased to pour upon Aaron 
 Burr the richest treasures of woman's 
 adoring love. This was his daughter 
 Theodosia, the beautiful and accomplished 
 wife of Governor Allston, of South Caro- 
 lina. As has been truly said, by one of the 
 many eulogists of this marvelous woman, 
 her love for her father partook of the purity 
 of a better world, akin, indeed, to the affec- 
 tion which a celestial spirit might be sup- 
 posed to entertain for a parent cast down 
 from heaven, for sharing in the sin of the 
 ' Son of the Morning.' Thus it was, that, 
 when in the midst of his deepest cbloquy, 
 and when the whole world, as it were, 
 looked upon him, abhorrently, as a de- 
 praved monster, the loving and beloved 
 Theodosia could write : 
 
 "I witness your extraordinary fortitude 
 with new wonder at every new misfortune. 
 Often, after reflecting upon this subject, 
 you appear to me so superior, so elevated 
 
CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF BURE. 
 
 149 
 
 above all other men; I contemplate you 
 with such a strange mixture of humility, 
 admiration, reverence, love and pride, that 
 very little superstition would be necessary to 
 make me worship you as a superior being; 
 such enthusiasm does your character excite 
 in me. When I afterward revert to my- 
 self, how insignificant do my best qualities 
 appear. My vanity would be greater, if I 
 had not been placed so near you ; and yet 
 my pride is our relationship. I had rather 
 not live than not be the daughter of such a 
 man." 
 
 Never had the worthiest and most vir- 
 tuous of fathers so touching a tribute of 
 love and reverence from a child, as this 
 from the beautiful and gifted Theodosia, 
 to a parent whose very name was regarded 
 by men as the synonym of dishonor and 
 pollution. His love for her, too, was con- 
 stant and unbounded, a mutual, fervent, 
 enthusiastic love, between the two, that 
 almost passes belief, and which no descrip- 
 tion could adequately characterize. Yet 
 it was the destiny of this man to have 
 torn and swept from him the last and only 
 tie that kept him in sympathy with his 
 kind. Returning from his exile in Europe, 
 to the land where he was still regarded as 
 
 little else than a fiend in human shape, his 
 heart was buoyed with the expectation of 
 soon clasping to his arms her in whom his 
 earthly all-in-all centered. Alas ! he was 
 yet to drain the cup of its nether dregs. 
 Hastening to meet her father on his ar- 
 rival at New York, Theodosia took passage 
 from Charleston, on the 30th of December, 
 in 1812, in the small pilot schooner Patriot, 
 just from a privateering cruise. But, 
 though a fine sailer, with the best of offi- 
 cers, the vessel was never seen, nor heard 
 from, after leaving port. Whether the 
 vessel took fire and was thus destroyed 
 with all on board, or foundered in the gale 
 which occurred soon after she left Charles- 
 ton, or was taken by the pirates then 
 infesting the high seas, is unknown to this 
 day. It was a blow which brought inde- 
 scribable dismay and agony to Burr. 
 Utterly bereft and alone, shunned as a 
 murderer, and despised as a plotter against 
 his country, his wretched existence was 
 prolonged to past four-score years, when 
 he went down in loneliness to the grave, 
 "unwept, unhonored, and unsung." Of 
 his accomplished and affectionate daughter, 
 all tongues and pens have unitedly spoken 
 as " Theodosia the beloved." 
 
XVIII. 
 
 
 
 FULTON'S TRIUMPHANT APPLICATION OF STEAM TO 
 
 NAVIGATION. 180 T. 
 
 First Steam-boat Voyage on American Waters Under His Direction. Astonishment Produced by the 
 Exhibition. Great Era in National Development. The World at Large Indebted to American 
 
 Ingenuity and Enterprise for this Mighty Revolutionary Agent in Human Progress and Power. 
 
 The Whole Scale of Civilization Enlarged. Fulton's Early Mechanisms. His Inventive Projects 
 Abroad. Steam Propulsion the End Sought. Various Experiments and Trials. Livingston's 
 Valued Co-operation. Studying the Principle Involved. Its Discovery at Last. Legislative En- 
 couragement Asked. Public Ridicule of the Scheme. Construction of a Steamboat. The " Queer- 
 Looking Craft." Incidents at the Launch. Undaunted Confidence of Fulton. Sailing of the 
 " New-Fangled Craft." Demonstrations Along the Route. Complete Success of the Trip. First 
 Passage-Money. That Bottle of Wine. Opposition Lines, and Racing. First Steam-boat at the 
 West Amazing Subsequent Increase. Fulton's Checkered Fortunes. 
 
 "It ia to the undaunted perseverance and exertions of the American FULTON that Is due the everlasting honor of having produced this 
 resolution, both in naval architecture and navigation." JDRV RLPOKT OF THB EXHIBITION OF ALL NATIONS, LONDON, 185L, 
 
 iTEAM, in its application to the purposes of navigation, 
 was first successfully employed by Robert Fulton, a na- 
 tive of Little Britain, Pennsylvania. His peculiar genius 
 manifested itself at an early age, in an irrepressible taste 
 for producing drawings and various mechanisms. At the 
 age of twenty-one he was intimate with Franklin. He 
 had previously painted portraits and landscapes in Phila- 
 delphia, and derived considerable profit from the occupa- 
 tion. He subsequently sailed for England, with the view 
 of seeking Mr. West's aid in the prosecution of his art. 
 That great painter took him into his family, at once. In 
 ^ 1793, Mr. Fulton was actively engaged in a project to im- 
 FIRST STEAMS-BOAT ON THE prove j n ] an( j nav ig a ti O n. Even at that time he had con- 
 ceived the idea of propelling vessels by steam. In 1804 he had acquired much 
 valuable information upon the subject, and written it down, as well as much concern- 
 ing his own life, and sent many manuscripts from Paris to this country, but the 
 vessel was wrecked and most of the papers destroyed. About this period, the sub- 
 ject of canals seems to have been the principal object of his attention, although not 
 exclusively. In 1806, Mr. Fulton left Europe for New York, and on his arrival 
 in this country, he immediately commenced hij arduous exertions in the cause of 
 practical science. The fertility of his mind in this direction may be understood, 
 when it is stated that, in 1794, he had been engaged by the Duke of Bridgewater in 
 
FULTON'S F1KST STEAMBOAT. 
 
 151 
 
 canal projects, had adopted and patented 
 the system of inclined planes as a substi- 
 tute for locks, and had written a treatise 
 on canals. He also invented a mill for 
 sawing marble, patented several methods 
 of spinning flax and making ropes, and 
 constructed a torpedo to be used in war, 
 for the destruction of an enemy's vessels. 
 
 At what time Mr. Fulton's mind was 
 first directed to steam navigation, is not 
 definitely known; but even in, 1793, he 
 had matured a plan in which he reposed 
 great confidence. No one, previously to 
 Mr. Fulton, had constructed a steam-boat 
 
 L_ 
 
 in any other way, or with any other result, 
 than as an unsuccessful experiment ; and 
 although many have disputed his right to 
 the honor of the discovery, none have done 
 so with any semblance of justice. Miller's 
 experiments, which simply proved the 
 practicability of the principle of propelling 
 vessels by steam, were made in 1787, in 
 Scotland ; but Fulton's boat, which began 
 to navigate the Hudson in 1807, was cer- 
 tainly the first practical demonstration of 
 this application of steam, being five years 
 prior to the success of Henry Bell on the 
 Clyde, and nearly ten j'ears preceding the 
 first attempts on the Thames river, under 
 
 Brunei's direction. The incompleteness of 
 Fitch's plan is matter of history, though 
 his inventive ingenuity was very great. 
 
 Among those of Fnlton's own country- 
 men who had previously made unsuccessful 
 attempts to render the force of steam sub- 
 servient to practical and useful purposes, 
 was Chancellor Livingston, of New York. 
 As early as 1798, he believed that he had 
 accomplished his object, and represented 
 to the legislature of the state of New York, 
 that he possessed a mode of applying the 
 steam engine so as to propel a boat on 
 new and advantageous principles; but he 
 was deterred from carrying it into effect, 
 by the uncertainty and hazard of a very 
 expensive experiment, unless he could be 
 assured of an exclusive advantage from it, 
 should it be found successful. 
 
 The legislature in March, 1798, passed 
 an act vesting Mr. Livingston with the 
 exclusive right and privilege of navigating 
 all kinds of boats which might be propelled 
 by the force of fire or steam, on all the 
 waters within the territory or jurisdiction 
 of the state of New York, for a term of 
 twenty years from the passing of the act, 
 upon condition that he should within a 
 twelvemonth build such a hoat, the mean 
 of whose progress should not be less than 
 four miles an hour. 
 
 The bill was introduced into the house 
 of assembly by Dr. Mitchell, upon which 
 occasion the wags and the lawyers united 
 their powers in opposition to the bill in 
 such a manner that the good doctor had 
 to encounter all their jokes, and parry all 
 their blows. 
 
 According to Mr. Livingston's owi* 
 account of these most interesting circum- 
 stances, it appears that, when residing as 
 minister plenipotentiary of the United 
 States in France, he there met with Mr. 
 Fulton, and they formed that friendship 
 and connection with each other, to which 
 a similarity of pursuits naturally gives 
 birth. He communicated to Mr. Fulton 
 his views of the importance of steam-boats 
 to their common country ; informed him of 
 what had been attempted in America, and 
 of his resolution to resume the pursuit on 
 
FULTON'S FIRST STEAMBOAT. 
 
 his return; and advised him to turn his 
 attention to the subject. It was agreed 
 between them to embark in the enterprise, 
 and immediately to make such experi- 
 ments as would enable them to determine 
 how far, in spite of former failures, the 
 object was attainable. The principal 
 direction of these experiments was left to 
 Mr. Fulton. 
 
 On the arrival at New York of Mr. 
 Fulton, which was not till 1806, they im- 
 mediately engaged in building a boat of 
 us was then thought very considerable 
 dimensions, for navigating the Hudson. 
 This boat, named the Clermont, was of 
 one hundred and sixty tons burden, one 
 hundred and thirty feet long, eighteen 
 feet wide, and seven feet deep. The 
 diameter of the paddle-wheels was fifteen 
 feet, the boards four feet long and dipping 
 two feet in the water. She was a queer- 
 looking .craft, and, while on the stocks, 
 excited much attention and no small 
 amount of ridicule. When she was 
 launched, and the steam engine placed in 
 her, that also was looked upon as being of 
 a piece with the boat built to float it. A 
 few had seen one at work raising the Man- 
 hattan water into the reservoir back of 
 the almshouse ; but, to the people at large, 
 the whole thing wag a hidden mystery. 
 Curiosity was greatly excited. Nor will 
 the reader be at all surprised at the state- 
 ment made by an eye-witness and narrator 
 of these events, that, when it was an- 
 nounced in the New York papers that the 
 boat would start from Cortlandt street at 
 six and a half o'clock on Friday morning, 
 the fourth of August, and take passengers 
 to Albany, there was a broad smile on 
 every face, as the inquiry was made, if 
 imy one would be fool enough to go ? 
 One friend was heard to accost another in 
 ^he street with 
 
 "John, will thee risk thy life in such a 
 concern ? I tell thee she is the most fear- 
 ful wild fowl living, and thy father ought 
 to restrain thee ! " 
 
 When Friday morning came, the 
 wharves, piers, house-tops, and every 
 ' colyne de vantage ' from which a sight 
 
 could be obtained, was filled with specta- 
 tors. There were twelve berths, and 
 every one was taken through to Albany. 
 The fare was seven dollars. All the 
 machinery was uncovered and exposed to 
 view. The periphery of the balance- 
 wheels, of cast iron, some four or more 
 inches square, ran just clear of the water. 
 There were no outside guards, the balance- 
 wheels being supported by their respective 
 shafts, which projected over the sides of 
 the boat. The forward part was covered 
 by a deck, which afforded shelter to the 
 hands. The after-part was fitted up, in a 
 rough manner, for passengers., The en- 
 trance into the cabin was from the stern, 
 in front of the steersman, who worked a 
 tiller, as in an ordinary sloop. Black 
 smoke issued from the chimney; steam 
 issued from every ill-fitted valve and crev- 
 ice of the engine. Fulton himself was 
 there. His remarkably clear and sharp 
 voice was heard above the hum of the mul- 
 titude and the noise of the engine; his 
 step was confident and decided ; he heeded 
 not the tearfulness, doubts, or sarcasm of 
 those by whom he was surrounded. The 
 whole scene combined had in it an individ- 
 uality, as well as an interest, which comes 
 but once and is remembered forever. 
 
 Everything being ready, the engine was 
 set in motion, and the boat moved steadily 
 but slowly from the wharf : as she turned 
 up the river, and was fairly under way, 
 there arose such a huzza as ten thousand 
 throats never gave before. The passen- 
 gers returned the cheer, but Fulton stood 
 upon the deck, his eyes flashing with an un- 
 usual brilliancy as he surveyed the crowd. 
 He felt that the magic wand of success 
 was waving over him, and he was silent. 
 
 As the boat sailed or steamed by West 
 Point, the whole garrison was out, and 
 cheered most lustily. At Newburg, it 
 seemed as if all Orange county was col- 
 lected there; the whole side-hill city 
 seemed animated with life. Every sail- 
 boat and water-craft was out. The ferry- 
 boat from Fishkill was filled with ladies, 
 but Fulton was engaged in seeing a pas- 
 senger landed, and did not observe the 
 
FULTON'S FIEST STEAMBOAT. 
 
 boat until she bore up nearly alongside ; 
 the napping of a sail arrested his atten- 
 tion, and, as he turned, the waving of so 
 many handkerchiefs, and the smiles of so 
 
 In a letter to his friend and patron, Mr. 
 Barlow, Fulton says of this Clermont trial 
 trip : " My steam-boat voyage to Albany 
 and back has turned out rather more 
 
 many bright and happy faces, struck him 
 with surprise, and, raising his hat, he ex- 
 claimed, " That is the finest sight we have 
 seen yet." 
 
 favorable than I had calculated. The dis- 
 tance to Albany is one hundred and fifty 
 miles. I ran up in thirty-two hours and 
 down in thirty. The latter is just five 
 
154 
 
 FULTON'S FIRST STEAMBOAT. 
 
 miles 'in hour. I had a light breeze 
 against me the whole way, going and com- 
 ing, so that no use was made cf my sails, 
 and this voyage has been performed whol- 
 ly by the power of the steam engine. I 
 overtook many sloops and schooners beat- 
 ing to the windward, and passed them as 
 if they had been at anchor." Such was 
 the modest description of this greatest of 
 modern inventions. 
 
 Of peculiar interest and entertainment 
 is the following narrative connected with 
 this historic voyage, from the graphic pen 
 of one who was a personal actor in the 
 scene described : 
 
 I chanced to be at Albany on business 
 when Fulton arrived there in his unheard- 
 of craft, which everybody felt so much 
 anxiety to see. Being ready to leave, and 
 hearing that this craft was going to 
 return to New York, I repaired on board 
 and inquired for Mr. Fulton. I was 
 referred to the cabin, and there found a 
 plain, gentlemanly man, wholly alone, and 
 engaged in writing. 
 
 " Mr. Fulton, I presume." 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Do you return to New York, with this 
 boat ? " 
 
 " We shall try to get back, sir." 
 " Can I have a passage down ? " 
 "You can take your chance with us, 
 sir." 
 
 I inquired the amount to be paid, and, 
 after a moment's hesitation, a sum, I 
 think six dollars, was named. The amount, 
 in coin, I laid in his open hand, and, with 
 his eye fixed upon it, he remained so long 
 motionless, that I supposed it might be a 
 miscount, and said to him, " Is that right, 
 sir ? " This question roused him as from 
 a kind of reverie, and, as he looked up, the 
 big tear was brimming in his eye, and his 
 voice faltered as he said 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ; but memory was 
 busy as I contemplated this, the first 
 pecuniary reward I have ever received for 
 all my exertions in adapting steam to 
 navigation. I should gladly commemorate 
 the occasion over a bottle of wine with 
 you, but really I am too poor even for 
 
 that, just now; yet I trust we may meet 
 again, when this will not be the case." 
 
 Some four years after this (continues 
 the writer of this agreeable reminiscence), 
 when the Clermont had been greatly im- 
 proved and her name changed to the North 
 River, and when two other boats, viz., the 
 Car of Neptune and the Paragon had been 
 built, making Mr. Fulton's fleet consist of 
 three boats regularly plying between New 
 York and Albany, I took passage upon one 
 of these for the latter city. The cabin in 
 that day was below ; and, as I walked its 
 length to and fro, I saw I was very closely 
 observed by one I supposed a stranger. 
 Soon, however, I recalled the features of 
 Mr. Fulton; but, without disclosing this, 
 I continued my walk. At length, in. pass- 
 ing his seat, our eyes met, when he sprang 
 to his feet, and, eagerly seizing my hand, 
 exclaimed 
 
 " I knew it must be you, for your feafr- 
 ures have never escaped me ; and, although 
 I am still far from rich, yet I may venture 
 that bottle now ! " 
 
 It was ordered ; and during its discus- 
 sion Mr. Fulton ran rapidly, but vividly, 
 over his experiences of the world's cold- 
 ness and sneers, and of the hopes, fears, 
 disappointments, and difficulties, that were 
 scattered through his whole career of dis- 
 covery, up to the very point of his final, 
 crowning triumph, at which he so fully felt 
 he had arrived at last. And in reviewing 
 all these matters, he said 
 
 " I have again and again recalled the 
 occasion, and the incident, of our first 
 interview at Albany; and never have I 
 done so without renewing in my mind the 
 vivid emotion it originally caused. That 
 seemed, and does still seem, to me, the 
 turning point in my destiny the dividing 
 line between light and darkness, in my 
 career upon earth; for it was the first 
 actual recognition of my usefulness to my 
 fellow-men." 
 
 Even at this early period in the employ- 
 ment of so dangerous and slightly under- 
 stood a motive power as steam, the rivalry 
 and diversion of racing was indulged in. 
 I It was in the month of September, 1809, 
 
FULTON'S FIRST STEAMBOAT. 
 
 155 
 
 that the exciting and criminal scene of a 
 steam-boat race was first enacted. A com- 
 pany from Albany had been formed for 
 the purpose of competing with Fulton. 
 The first vessel of this opposition line was 
 advertised to leave Albany at the same 
 time as Fulton's. Parties ran high in the 
 hotels of Albany. The partisans of Fulton 
 were enrolled under Professor Kemp, of 
 Columbia College ; those of the opposition 
 under Jacob Stout. The victory was long 
 in suspense ; and it was not until after the 
 thirtieth hour of a hard struggle that the 
 result was proclaimed by Dr. Kemp, on 
 the taffrail of Fulton's vessel, and holding 
 out, in derision, a coil of rope to Captain 
 Stout, for the purpose, as he remarked in 
 so doing, of " towing him into port." 
 When the age, high standing, and sedate 
 character of these two gentlemen are con- 
 sidered, it is not surprising that, in course 
 of time, women at the West learned to 
 devote their bacon to feeding the furnace 
 fires of rival steam-boats. 
 
 The complete success attending steam 
 navigation on the Hudson and the neigh- 
 boring waters, previous to the year 1809, 
 turned the attention of the principal pro- 
 jectors to the idea of its application on the 
 western waters; and in the month of 
 April of that year, Mr. Roosevelt, of New 
 York, pursuant to an agreement with 
 Chancellor Livingston and Mr. Fulton, 
 visited those rivers, with the purpose of 
 forming an opinion whether they admitted 
 of steam navigation or not. Mr. Roosevelt 
 surveyed tho rivers from Pittsburg to 
 New Orleans, and, as his report was favor- 
 able, it was decided to build a boat at the 
 former place. This was done under his 
 direction, and in the year 1811 the first 
 boat was launched on the waters of the 
 Ohio. It was called the New Orleans. 
 
 Late at night, on the fourth day after 
 quitting Pittsburg, they arrived in safety 
 at Louisville, having been seventy hours 
 descending a distance of somewhat more 
 than seven hundred miles. The novel 
 appearance of the vessel, and the fearful 
 rapidity as it was then regarded with 
 which it made its passage, excited a mix- 
 
 ture of terror and surprise among many of 
 the settlers on the banks, whom the rumor 
 of such an invention had never reached. 
 
 Mr. Livingston's former associate in his 
 experiments with applying steam to this 
 purpose was Mr. John Stevens, of New 
 Jersey, who persevered independently of 
 Fulton and his patron, in various attempts 
 to construct steam-boats. In this enter- 
 prise he was aided by his son, and his 
 prospects of success had become so flatter- 
 ing, that he refused to renew his partner- 
 ship with Livingston, and resolved to trust 
 to his own exertions. Fulton's boat, how- 
 ever, was first ready, and thus secured the 
 grant of the exclusive privilege of the state 
 of New York. The Stevenses were but a 
 few days later in moving a boat with the 
 required velocity. Being shut out of the 
 waters of the state of New York, by the 
 priority of Livingston and Fulton, Stevens 
 conceived the bold design of conveying his 
 boat to the Delaware by sea ; and this 
 boat, which was so near reaping the honor 
 of first success, was the first to navigate 
 the ocean by steam. One of the most 
 efficient advocates of the new mode of nav- 
 igation by steam was DeWitt Clinton. 
 
 From the date of Fulton's triumph in 
 1807, steam navigation became a fixed fact 
 in the United States, and went on extend- 
 ing with astonishing rapidity. Nor could 
 a different result have been rationally 
 expected in such a country as America. 
 
 In person, Mr. Fulton was about six 
 feet high, slender form, but finely propor- 
 tioned. Nature had made him a gentle- 
 man, and bestowed upon him ease and 
 gracefulness. A modest confidence in his 
 own worth and talents, gave him an unem- 
 barrassed deportment in all his social 
 intercourse. He expressed himself with 
 energy, fluency, and correctness, and, as he 
 owed more to his own experience and 
 reflections than to books, his sentiments 
 were often interesting from their original- 
 ity. But what was most conspicuous in 
 his character, was his calm constancy, his 
 industry, and that indefatigable patience 
 and perseverance, which always enabled 
 him to overcome difficulties. 
 
XIX. 
 
 EXTENSIVE AND CALAMITOUS EARTHQUAKE AT THE 
 
 WEST. 1811. 
 
 Its Convulsive Force Felt all Over the Valley of the Mississippi and to the Atlantic Coast. The Earth 
 Suddenly Bursts Open and a Vast Region of Country is Sunk and Lost. Awful Chasms and 
 Upheavals. Ruin and Desolation Brought Upon the Inhabitants. llumboldt's Interesting Opin- 
 ion of the Western Earthquake. Its Central Point of Violence. Terrible Consternation Produced. 
 The Ground Swellings and Crackings. Great Agitation of the Waters. Houses Buried, Boats 
 Wrecked. Giant Forests Crushed. Purple Tinge of the Atmosphere. Thunder, Lightning, Flood, 
 Etc. A Mighty Struggle. Hills and Islands Disappear. Burial Grounds Engulfed. Nature's 
 Secrets Unbosomed. Lakes Drained, New Ones Formed. Present Aspect of the Country. 
 Account of the More Recent Earthquakes in California, their Characteristics and Destructiveness. 
 Most Serious in San Francisco. Lives and Property Lost. Women and Children Panic-Struck. 
 Direction of the Shocks. Indications of their Approach. Efiect in the Harbor and Bay. 
 
 " Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth 
 
 In strange eruptions ; and the teeming earth 
 
 Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd 
 
 By the imprisoning of unruly wimla 
 
 Within her womb ; which, for enlargement striving, 
 
 Shake th old beldame Earth, and topple down 
 
 Steeples and moss-grown towers." 
 
 AFTEB THE EARTHQUAKE. 
 
 AKTHQUAKES in the United States 
 I have been of comparatively rare occur- 
 rence, so far as any extensive destruction 
 | of life and property has been involved. 
 By far the most important of these, prior 
 to the disastrous California earthquakes in 
 1865 and 1868, was that which took place 
 at New Madrid, in Missouri, below St. 
 Louis, on the Mississippi, in 1811, and 
 which is always spoken of, in that section, 
 as " the great earthquake." Over a region 
 of country three hundred miles in length, 
 from the mouth of the Ohio to that of the 
 St Francis, the ground rose and sank in 
 great undulations, and lakes were formed, 
 and again drained. Humboldt remarks 
 that it presents one of the few examples of 
 an incessant quaking of the ground for 
 successive months far from any volcano. 
 
 The central point of violence in this 
 remarkable earthquake was thought to be 
 near the Little Prairie, twenty-five or 
 thirty miles below New Madrid; the vibra- 
 
EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 157 
 
 tions from which were felt all over the 
 valley of the Ohio, as high up as Pitts- 
 hurg. The first shock was felt on the 
 night of December sixteenth, 1811, and 
 was repeated at intervals, with decreasing 
 severity, into February following. New 
 Madrid, having suffered more than any 
 other town on the Mississippi from its 
 effects, was considered as situated near 
 the focus from whence the undulations 
 proceeded. 
 
 The water of the river, which the day 
 before was tolerably clear, being rather 
 low, changed to a reddish hue, and became 
 thick with mud thrown up from its bottom, 
 while the surface, lashed vehemently by 
 the convulsion of the earth beneath, was 
 covered with foam, which, gathering into 
 masses the size of a barrel, floated along 
 on the trembling surface. The earth on 
 the shores opened in wide fissures, and, 
 closing again, threw the water, sand and 
 mud, in huge jets, higher than the tops of 
 the trees. The atmosphere was filled with 
 a thick vapor or gas, to which the light 
 imparted a purple tinge, altogether differ- 
 ent in appearance from the autumnal haze 
 of an Indian summer, or that of smoke. 
 From the temporary check to the current, 
 by the heaving up of the bottom, the sink- 
 ing of the banks and sand-bars into the bed 
 of the stream, the river rose in a few min- 
 utes five or six feet ; and, impatient of the 
 restraint, again rushed forward with 
 redoubled impetuosity, hurrying along the 
 boats, now set loose by the panic-stricken 
 boatmen, as in less danger on the water 
 than at the shore, where the banks threat- 
 ened every moment to destroy them by the 
 falling earth, or carry them down in the 
 vortices of the sinking masses. Many 
 boats were overwhelmed in this manner, 
 and their crews perished with them. 
 Numerous boats were wrecked on the 
 snags and old trees thrown up from the 
 bottom of the Mississippi, where they had 
 quietly rested for ages, while others were 
 sunk or stranded on the sand-bars and 
 islands. At New Madrid, several boats 
 were carried by the reflux of the current 
 into a small stream that puts into the 
 
 river just above the town, and left on the 
 ground by the returning water a very con- 
 siderable distance from the Mississippi. 
 
 It is an interesting coincidence, that, at 
 this precise period, the first steam-boat 
 voyage ever made in western waters, added 
 the novelty of its occurrence to the con- 
 vulsions of nature in this region. The 
 name of the steam-boat in question was the 
 New Orleans, commanded by Mr. Roose- 
 velt. On arriving about five miles above 
 the Yellow Banks, near New Madrid, they 
 moored opposite to a vein of coal on the 
 Indiana side, the coal having been pur- 
 chased some time previously for the steam- 
 er's use. They found a large quantity 
 already quarried to their hand and con- 
 veyed to the shore by depredators, who, 
 however, had not means to carry it off; 
 and with this they commenced loading. 
 While thus engaged, the voyagers were 
 accosted in great alarm by the squatters in 
 the neighborhood, who inquired if they had 
 not heard strange noises on the river and 
 in the woods in the course of the preceding 
 day, and perceived the shores shake 
 insisting that they had repeatedly heard 
 the earth tremble. Hitherto, however, 
 nothing remarkable had been perceived, 
 and the following day they continued 
 their monotonous voyage in those vast sol- 
 itudes. The weather was oppressively 
 hot; the air misty, still and dull; and 
 though the sun was visible, like an 
 immense and glowing ball of copper, his 
 rays hardly shed more than a mournful 
 twilight on the surface of the water. 
 Evening drew nigh, and with it some 
 indications of what was passing around 
 them became evident, for they ever and 
 anon heard a rushing sound and violent 
 splash, and finally saw large portions of 
 the shore tearing away from the land and 
 lapsing into the watery abyss. An eye- 
 witness says : " It was a startling scene 
 one could have heard a pin drop on 
 deck. The crew spoke but little; they 
 noticed, too, that the comet, for some time 
 visible in the heavens, had suddenly dis- 
 appeared, and every one on board wa 
 thunderstruck." 
 
158 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 SCENE OF THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE IX THE WFST. 
 
 The second day after leaving the Yellow 
 Banks, the sun rose over the forests, the 
 same dim ball of fire, and the air was thick, 
 heavy, and oppressive, as before. The 
 portentous signs of this terrible natural 
 convulsion increased. Alarmed and con- 
 fused, the pilot affirmed he was lost as 
 he found the channel everywhere altered ; 
 and where he had hitherto known deep 
 water, there lay numberless trees with 
 their roots upward. The trees that still 
 remained were seen waving and nodding 
 on the banks, without a wind. The 
 adventurers had of course no choice but to 
 continue their route as best they could, 
 but towards evening they were at a loss 
 for a place of shelter. They had usually 
 brought to, under the shore, but at all 
 points they saw the high banks disappear- 
 ing, overwhelming many an unfortunate 
 craft, from which the owners had landed, 
 in the hope of effecting their escape. A 
 large island in mid-channel, which had 
 been selected by the pilot as the better 
 alternative, was sought for in vain, having 
 totally disappeared, and thousands of 
 acres constituting the surrounding coun- 
 try, were found to have been swallowed 
 up, with their gigantic growth of forest 
 and cane. , 
 
 Thus, in doubt and terror, they pro- 
 ceeded hour after hour, until dark, when 
 they found a small island, and rounded to, 
 mooring at the foot of it. Here they lay, 
 keeping watch on deck, during the long 
 night, listening to the sound of the waters 
 which roared and whirled wildly around 
 them hearing, also, from time to time, 
 the rushing earth slide from the shore, 
 and the commotion of the falling mass as 
 it became engulfed in the river. The 
 lady of the party was frequently awakened 
 from her restless slumber, by the jar of 
 the furniture and loose articles in the 
 cabin, as in the course of the night the 
 shock of the passing earthquake was com- 
 municated to the bows of the vessel. The 
 morning dawned and showed they were 
 near the mouth of the Ohio. The shores 
 and channel were now equally unrecogniz- 
 able everything seemed changed. About 
 noon that day they reached New Madrid. 
 Here the inhabitants were in the greatest 
 consternation and distress. Part of the 
 population had fled for their lives to the 
 higher grounds ; others prayed to be taken 
 on board the steamer, as the earth was 
 opening in fissures on every side, and their 
 houses hourly falling around them. Pro- 
 ceeding thence they found the Mississippi, 
 
EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 159 
 
 at all times a fearful stream, unusually 
 swollen, turbid, and full of trees, and after 
 many days of extreme danger, finally 
 reached Natchez. 
 
 After shaking the valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi to its center, the earthquake 
 vibrated along the courses of the rivers 
 and valleys, and, passing the primitive 
 mountain barriers, died away along the 
 shores of the Atlantic ocean. In the 
 region of its greatest force, and pending 
 the tremendous elemental strife which 
 finally ensued, the current of the Missis- 
 sippi was driven back from its source with' 
 appalling velocity for several hours, in con- 
 sequence of an elevation of its bed. But 
 the noble river was not thus to be stayed 
 in its course. Its accumulated waters 
 came booming on, and, overtopping the 
 barrier thus suddenly raised, carried every 
 thing before them with resistless power. 
 Boats, then floating on its surface, shot 
 down the declivity like an arrow from a 
 bow, amid roaring billows and the wildest 
 disorder. A few days' action of its power- 
 ful current sufficed to wear away every 
 vestige of the barrier thus strangely inter- 
 posed, and its waters moved on in their 
 wonted channel to the ocean, seemingly 
 rejoicing in their triumph over the oppos- 
 ing elements and forces. 
 
 The day that succeeded this night of 
 dread brought no solace in its dawn. 
 Shock followed shock ; a dense black cloud 
 of vapor overshadowed the land, through 
 which no struggling sunbeam found its 
 way to cheer the desponding heart of man. 
 The appearances that presented themselves 
 after the subsidence of the principal com- 
 motion were indeed staggering to the 
 beholder. Hills had disappeared, and 
 lakes were found in their stead ; numerous 
 lakes became elevated ground, over the 
 surface of which vast heaps of sand were 
 scattered in every direction ; while in 
 many places the earth for miles was sunk 
 below the general level of the surrounding 
 country, without being covered with water, 
 leaving an impression in miniature of a 
 catastrophe much more important in its 
 effects, which had, perhaps, preceded It 
 
 ages before. One of the lakes thus formed 
 is sixty or seventy miles in length, and 
 from three to twenty miles in breadth ; it 
 is also in some places very shallow, and in 
 others from fifty to one hundred feet deep, 
 which latter is much more than the depth 
 of the Mississippi river in that quarter. 
 In sailing over i*s surface, one is struck 
 with astonishment at beholding the gigan- 
 tic trees of the forest standing partially 
 exposed amid the waste of waters, branch- 
 less and leafless, like gaunt, mysterious 
 monsters. But this wonder is still further 
 increased on casting the eye on the dark- 
 blue profound, to witness cane-brakes cov- 
 ering its bottom, over which a mammoth 
 species of tortoise is occasionally seen drag- 
 ging its slow length along, while countless 
 millions of fish are sporting through the 
 aquatic thickets, the whole constituting 
 one of the most remarkable features in 
 American scenery and topography. 
 
 The lost hills or islands before men- 
 tioned are of various extent ; some twenty 
 or thirty miles in circumference, others 
 not so large, and some are even diminutive 
 in size, but of great altitude ; occasionally 
 furnished with fountains of living water, 
 and all well timbered. The low grounds 
 are in the form of basins, connected by 
 openings or hollows ; these, not being as 
 deep as the bottom of their reservoirs, it 
 happens that, when an inundation takes 
 place, either from the Mississippi river or 
 streams issuing from the surrounding 
 highlands, they are filled to overflowing 
 and, when the waters recede below a level 
 with these points of communication, they 
 become stagnant pools, passing off by the 
 process of infiltration, which is very slow, 
 in a thick, black, tenacious loam, or by 
 evaporation equally gradual, in a country 
 covered by forests and impenetrable 
 jungle. At New Madrid and its vicinity, 
 the earth broke into innumerable fissures ; 
 the church-yard, with its dead, was torn 
 from the bank and embosomed in the 
 turbid stream; and in many places, the 
 gaping earth unfolded its secrets, the 
 bones of the gigantic mastodon and ich- 
 thyosaurus, hidden within its bosom for 
 
160 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 ages, being brought to the surface. Even 
 at the present day, frequent slight shocks 
 of earthquake are there felt, and it is 
 asserted that, in the vast swamp at the 
 back of the town, strange sounds may at 
 times be heard, as of some mighty cauldron 
 seething and bubbling in the bowels of the 
 earth. 
 
 Flint, the geographer, who visited the 
 country seven years after the event, says 
 that, at the time of his visit, a district 
 west of New Madrid still remained cov- 
 ered with water, and that the neighboring 
 forest presented a scene of great confusion. 
 He also saw hundreds of deep chasms re- 
 maining in the alluvial soil, which were 
 produced, according to the inhabitants, by 
 the bursting of the earth, which rose in 
 great undulations, and discharged prodig- 
 ious volumes of water, sand, and coaly 
 matter, thrown up to a great height. As 
 the shocks lasted throughout a period of 
 three months, the country people remarked 
 that, in particular districts, there were 
 certain prevailing directions in which the 
 fissures opened, and they accordingly 
 felled the tallest trees, making them fall 
 at right angles to the direction of the 
 chasms. By stationing themselves on 
 these, the inhabitants often escaped being 
 swallowed up when the earth opened 
 beneath them. 
 
 During the visit of Sir Charles Lyell to 
 this region, in 1846, Mr. Bringier, the 
 well-known engineer, related to him that 
 he was on horseback near New Madrid, in 
 1811, when some of the severest shocks 
 were experienced, and that, as the waves 
 advanced, he saw the trees bend down, and 
 often, the instant afterward, when in the 
 act of recovering their position, meet the 
 boughs of other trees similarly inclined, so 
 as to become interlocked, being prevented 
 from righting themselves again. The 
 transit of the wave through the woods was 
 marked by the crashing noise of countless 
 branches, first heard on one side and then 
 on the other. At the same time, powerful 
 jets of water, mixed with sand, loam and 
 bituminous shale, were cast up with such 
 :ropetuosity, that both horse and rider 
 
 might have perished, had the swelling and 
 upheaving ground happened to burst im- 
 mediately beneath them. Some of the 
 shocks were perpendicular, while others, 
 much more desolating, were horizontal, or 
 moved along like great waves ; and \vhere 
 the principal fountains of mud and water 
 were thrown up, circular cavities, called 
 sink-holes, were formed. 
 
 Hearing that some of these cavities still 
 existed near the town, Professor Lyell 
 went to see one of them, three-quarters of 
 a mile to the westward. There he found 
 a nearly circular hollow, ten yards wide, 
 and five feet deep, with a smaller one near 
 it, and, scattered about the surrounding 
 level ground, were fragments of black 
 bituminous shale, with much white sand. 
 Within a distance of a few hundred yards, 
 were five more of these " sand-bursts," or 
 "sand-blows," as they are sometimes 
 termed, and, about a mile farther west, 
 there is still pointed out "the sink-hole 
 where the negro was drowned." It is a 
 striking object, interrupting the regularity 
 of a flat plain, the sides very steep, and 
 twenty-eight feet deep from the top to the 
 water's edge. 
 
 In the interesting account of this region 
 and of the event in question, furnished by 
 Professor Lyell, in his book of travels, he 
 relates the reminiscences of a citizen of 
 New Madrid, who witnessed the earth- 
 quake when a child. He described the 
 camping out of the people in the night 
 when the first shocks occurred, and how 
 some were wounded by the falling of chim- 
 neys, and the bodies of others drawn out 
 of the ruins ; and confirmed the published 
 statements of the inhabitants having 
 availed themselves of fallen trees to avoid 
 being engulfed in open fissures, a singu- 
 lar mode of escape, which, curiously 
 enough, had been adopted spontaneously 
 in different and widely-distant places, at 
 the same time, even little children throw- 
 ins themselves thus on the felled trunks. 
 Lyell was then invited to go and see sev- 
 eral fissures still open, which had been 
 caused by the undulatory movement of the 
 ground, some of them jagged, otheid e^en 
 
EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 361 
 
 and straight. Two of them were traced 
 continuously for more than half a mile, 
 and a few were found to he parallel ; hut, 
 on the whole, they varied greatly in direc- 
 tion, some being ten and others forty-five 
 degrees west of north. They might easily 
 have been mistaken for artificial trenches, 
 though formerly as deep as wells ; the 
 action of rains, frost, and occasional inun- 
 dations, and, above all, the leaves of the 
 forest blown into them in countless num- 
 bers, have done much to fill them up. 
 
 In that part of the forest which borders 
 what is called the "sunk country," all the 
 trees of a date prior to 1811, although 
 standing erect and entire, are dead. They 
 are most noticeable objects, are chiefly 
 oaks and walnuts, with trunks several feet 
 in diameter, and many of them more than 
 two hundred years old. They are sup- 
 posed to have been killed by the loosening 
 of the roots during the repeated undula- 
 tions which passed through the soil for 
 three months in succession. The higher 
 level plain, where these dead monarchs of 
 the forest stand, terminates abruptly 
 
 newer than 1812. The " sunk country " 
 extends along the course of the White 
 Water and its tributaries for a distance of 
 between seventy and eighty miles north 
 and south, and thirty miles east and west. 
 It is not, however, confined to the region 
 west of the Mississippi ; for several exten- 
 sive forest tracts in Tennessee were sub- 
 merged during the shocks of 1811-12, 
 and have ever since formed lakes and 
 swamps. 
 
 The earthquakes in California, especially 
 those which occurred in 1865 and 1868, 
 and both in the month of October, were 
 the most disastrous in respect to the value 
 of property destroyed, that of October 21, 
 1868, being particularly so. At San 
 Francisco, the motion was east and west, 
 and several buildings on Pine, Battery, 
 and Sansome streets were thrown down, 
 and a considerable number badly damaged. 
 The ground settled, which threw the build- 
 ings out of line. The principal damage 
 was confined to the lower portion of the 
 city, below Montgomery street, and among 
 old buildings on the made ground. The 
 
 EARTHQUAKE SCENE IN SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 toward the bayou St. John, and the sudden 
 descent of eight or ten feet throughout an 
 area four or five miles long, and fifty or 
 sixty broad, was one of the strange results 
 of the earthquake. At the lower level are 
 seen cypresses and cotton-wood, and other 
 trees which delight in wet ground, all 
 
 custom-house, a brick building erected on 
 pile ground, which was badly shattered in 
 the earthquake of 1865, had now to be 
 abandoned as unsafe. Business in the 
 lower part of the city was suspended, the 
 streets were thronged with people, and 
 great excitement prevailed. The parapets, 
 
162 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. 
 
 walls and chimneys of a number of houses 
 fell, causing Joss of life and many accidents. 
 At one place, the ground opened several 
 inches wide and about forty or fifty feet 
 long ; and in other places, the ground 
 opened, and water forced itself above the 
 surface. The water in the bay was per- 
 fectly smooth at the time of the occurrence, 
 and no perceptible disturbance took place 
 there; the shock was felt aboard the ship- 
 ping in the harbor, as if the vessels had 
 struck upon the rocks. The morning was 
 moderately warm, and a dense fog covered 
 the city. Not the slightest breeze was 
 perceptible. The first indication of the 
 approach of the earthquake was a slight 
 rumbling sound, as of something rolling 
 along the sidewalk, coming apparently 
 from the direction of the ocean. The 
 shock commenced in the form of slow, hor- 
 izontal movements, while the movements 
 of the great earthquake of 1865 were per- 
 pendicular. The effect on buildings, too, 
 of the earthquake of 1868, was widely dif- 
 ferent from that of 1865. In the latter, 
 glass was broken and shivered into atoms 
 in all the lower parts of the city, by the 
 perpendicular oscillations, while compara- 
 tively few walls were shaken down or badly 
 shattered. The earthquake of 1868 broke 
 very little glass, but the damage by the 
 falling of cornices, awnings, and walls, 
 was immense. Mantel ornaments and 
 shelved crockery were everywhere thrown 
 
 down and broken; top-heavy articles of 
 furniture tumbled over ; tanks and dishes 
 containing water or other liquids slopped 
 their contents; clocks stopped running; 
 door -bells rang ; tall structures, like 
 steeples and towers, were seen to sway, 
 and the motion of the earth under the 
 feet was unpleasantly plain to walkers ; 
 horses started and snorted, exhibiting 
 every sign of fear, and in some cases dash- 
 ing off furiously with their riders ; dogs 
 crouched, trembling and whining ; and 
 fowls flew to the trees, uttering notes of 
 alarm. The panic among women and 
 children was, for a time, excessive, and 
 their cries and tears were very moving. 
 
 At Oakland, the shock was very severe, 
 throwing down chimneys, and greatly 
 damaging buildings ; in several localities, 
 the ground opened, and a strong sulphu- 
 rous smell was noticed after the shock. 
 The court-house at San Leandro was 
 demolished and one life lost. At San 
 Jose, several buildings were injured. The 
 large brick court-house at Redwood City 
 was completely wrecked. The shock was 
 light at Marysville and Sonora, and severe 
 at Grass Valley. It was also felt, with a 
 good deal of severity, in Stockton, Sonoma, 
 San Lorenzo, Alvarado, San Mateo, Peta- 
 luma, Vallejo, and Sacramento; in the 
 latter place, flag-staffs and trees vibrated 
 ten feet, and the water in the river rose 
 and fell a foot and a half. 
 
XX. 
 
 AMERICA AND ENGLAND MATCHED AGAINST EACH 
 OTHER IN SQUADRON COMBAT. 1813. 
 
 Lake Erie the Scene of the Encounter. Sixteen Vessels Engaged. The British, under Captain Bar- 
 clay, one of Lord Nelson's Veteran Officers, and with a Superior Force, are Thoroughly Beaten by 
 the Americans, under Commodore Oliver H. Perry. Every British Vessel Captured General Harrison 
 Completes the Victorious Work on Land Building of the Fleet on the Lake. Great Difficulties to be 
 Overcome. Commodore Perry the Master Spirit. Completion and Sailing of the Fleet. Challenge 
 to the Enemy. Line of Battle Formed. Perry's Blue Union-Jack. Its Motto, " Don't Give Up the 
 Ship!" Wild Enthusiasm of his Men. Flagship Lawrence in the Van. Meets the Whole Opposing 
 Fleet. Badly Crippled in a T\\ o Hours' Fight. Huzzas of the Enemy. The Day Supposed to be 
 Theirs Indomitable Resolution of Perry. lie Puts Off in an Open Boat. Reaches the Niagara with 
 His Flag. Again Battles with the Foe. Severe and Deadly Conflict. American Prowess Invincible. 
 Barclay Strikes His Colors. Perry only Twenty-seven Years Old. 
 
 " We have met the enemy, and they are oun." FEBKT'S MEMORABLE DISPATCH Anirocirciiro His VICTORY, 
 
 fOREIGN nations, who still smiled incredulously at the pre- 
 51 tensions of the United States in carrying on an ocean war- 
 ii fare with the proud " mistress of the seas," as England 
 ^ was everywhere acknowledged to be, were now to receive, 
 in addition to the splendid victory of the United States 
 frigate Constitution over the Guerriere, fresh and decisive 
 PERRY'S FLAG ON LAKE sure, proof of the naval supremacy of the youthful republic, in the 
 magnificent triumph achieved by Commodore Oliver H. Perry, on the waters of Lake 
 Erie. Here, for the first time in the history of the western world, the flag of a 
 British squadron was struck, humiliatingly, to the Americans. Great Britain had 
 already been signally defeated in single naval combats, during the present contest; 
 she was now beaten in squadron, every one of her ships striking their colors to 
 the stars and stripes. 
 
 The unexpected and disgraceful surrender of the northern army under General 
 Hull, to the British, rendered a superior force on Lake Erie necessary for the de- 
 fense of the American territory bordering on the lake, as well as for offensive opera- 
 tions in Canada. Under these circumstances Oliver H. Perry, a brave and accom- 
 plished young officer, who had the command of a gunboat flotilla for the defense 
 of New York, was designated to the command on Lake Erie. But, at this time, the 
 United States possessed no naval force on the lake ; the only vessels belonging to 
 the government were captured at Detroit. The southern or American lake shore, 
 being principally a sand beach formed by the sediment driven by the northerlj 
 
164 
 
 THE FIRST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 winds, afforded but few harbors, and those 
 encumbered with bars at their entrance. 
 At Presque Isle, ninety miles west of Buf- 
 falo, a peninsula extending a considerable 
 distance into the lake encircles a harbor, on 
 the borders of which was the port of Erie. 
 
 At this place, Commodore Perry was 
 directed to locate, and superintend a naval 
 establishment, the object of which was to 
 create a superior force on the l:ike. The ' 
 difficulties of building a navy in the wil- 
 derness can only be conceived by those 
 who have experienced them. There was 
 nothing at this spot out of which it could 
 be built, but the timber of the forest. 
 Ship-builders, sailors, naval stores, guns, 
 and ammunition, were all to be transported 
 by land, in wagons, and over bad roads, a 
 distance of four hundred miles, either from 
 Albany by the way of Buffalo, cr from 
 Philadelphia by the way of Pittsburg. 
 But under all these embarrassments, ~fcy 
 the first of August, 1813, Commodore 
 Perry had provided a flotilla, consisting of 
 the ships Lawrence and Niagara, of twenty 
 guns each, and seven smaller vessels, to 
 wit, one of four guns, one of three, two of 
 two, and three of one. 
 
 While the ships were building, the 
 enemy frequently appeared off the harbor 
 and threatened their destruction ; but the 
 shallowness of the water on the bar, there 
 being but five feet, prevented their ap- 
 proach. The same cause, which insured 
 the safety of the vessels while building, 
 seemed likely to prevent their being of 
 any service when completed. The two 
 largest drew several feet more water than 
 there was on the bar. The inventive 
 genius of Perry, however, soon surmounted 
 this difficulty. He placed large scows on 
 each side of these two, filled them so that 
 they sank to the water-edge, then attached 
 them to the ships by strong pieces of 
 timber, and pumped out the water. The 
 scows, in this way, buoyed up the ships, 
 enabling them to pass the bar in safety. 
 This operation was performed in the very 
 eyes of the enemy. 
 
 Having gotten his fleet in readiness, 
 Commodore Perry proceeded to the head 
 
 of the lake and anchored in Put-in Bay, 
 opposite to and distant thirty miles from 
 Maiden, where the British fleet lay under 
 the guns of the fort. He remained at 
 anchor here several days, watching the 
 British fleet, and waiting a chance to 
 offer battle. 
 
 On the morning of the tenth of Septem- 
 ber, 1813, the enemy was discovered bear- 
 ing down upon the American force, which 
 immediately got under weigh, and stood 
 out to meet him. Perry had nine vessels, 
 consisting of the Lawrence, his flag-ship, 
 of twenty guns ; the Niagara, Captain 
 Elliott, of twenty ; the Caledonian, Lieu- 
 tenant Turner, of three; the schooner 
 Ariel, of four ; the Scorpion, of two the 
 Somers, of two guns and two swivels ; the 
 sloop Trippe, and schooners Tigress and 
 Porcupine, of one gun each. 
 
 The force of the British consisted of the 
 Detroit, flag-ship of Commodore Barclay, 
 and carrying nineteen guns and two how- 
 itzers ; the Queen Charlotte, Captain 
 Finnis, of seventeen guns ; the schooner 
 Lady Prevost, Lieutenant Bucban, of 
 thirteen guns and two howitzers ; the brig 
 Hunter, of ten guns ; the sloop Little 
 Belt, of three guns ; and the schooner 
 Chippewa, of one gun and two swivels. 
 Thus, the belligerents stood, in respect to 
 force and power, as follows : The Ameri- 
 cans had nine vessels, carrying fifty-four 
 guns and two swivels ; the British, six 
 vessels, carrying sixty-three guns, four 
 howitzers, and two swivels. 
 
 Commodore Perry got under way with 
 a light breeze at the south-west. Sum- 
 moning his commanding officers by signal 
 to the deck of the Lawrence, he gave them 
 in a few words their last instructions pre- 
 paratory to the approaching battle, and, 
 unfolding his union-jack, a blue flag upon 
 which was inscribed in white letters the 
 motto of the American navy, "DON'T 
 GIVE UP THE SHIP ! " The sight of this 
 flag, bearing upon it the dying words of 
 the brave Captain Lawrence, brought the 
 most enthusiastic cheers from the crew. 
 As the officers were about taking their 
 leave, Perry declared that it was his 
 
THE FIRST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 165 
 
 intention to bring the enemy to close quar- 
 ters from the first, and that he could not 
 advise them better than in the words of 
 Lord Nelson "If you lay your enemy 
 close alongside, you can not be out of your 
 place." As soon, therefore, as the ap- 
 proach of the enemy warranted the display 
 of the signal, every vessel was under sail, 
 beating out against a light head-wind, and 
 with the boats ahead towing. The object 
 was, to beat to the windward of the 
 islands which now interposed between the 
 two approaching squadrons, and, thus gain- 
 ing the weather-gauge, to bear down with 
 that important advantage upon the foe. 
 The wind, however, was light and baffling; 
 and Perry's patience was so severely tried 
 by the incessant tacking, that, seeing time 
 lost, and but little progress made, he 
 called out to his sailing-master, 
 
 " Taylor, you wear ship and run to the 
 leeward of the islands." 
 
 " Then we'll have to engage the enemy 
 from the leeward," exclaimed Taylor. 
 
 "I don't care to windward or to lee- 
 ward, they shall fight to-d.ay," was Perry's 
 instant response. 
 
 He now formed the line of battle, the 
 wind suddenly shifting to the south-east, 
 thus bearing the squadron clear of the 
 islands, a^nd enabling it to keep the 
 weather-gauge. But the moderateness of 
 the breeze caused the hostile squadrons to 
 approach each other but slowly, thus pro- 
 
 longing the solemn interval of suspense 
 and anxiety which precedes a battle. The 
 order and regularity of naval discipline 
 heightened the dreadful quiet of this 
 impressive prelude. No noise, no bustle, 
 prevailed to distract the mind except, at 
 intervals, the shrill pipings of the boat- 
 swain's whistle, or a murmuring whisper 
 among the men, who stood in groups 
 around their guns, with lighted matches, 
 narrowly watching the movements of the 
 foe, and sometimes stealing a glance at the 
 countenances of their commanders. In 
 this manner, the opposing fleets gradually 
 neared each other in awful silence. Even 
 the sick felt a thrill of the pervading deep 
 emotion, and, with fancied renewal of 
 strength, offered their feeble services in 
 the coming conflict. To one of these poor 
 fellows, who had crawled up on deck, to 
 have a hand in the fight, the sailing-master 
 said: 
 
 "Go below, Mays, you are too weak to 
 be here." 
 
 " I can do something, sir," replied the 
 brave old tar. 
 
 " What can you do ? " 
 " I can sound the pump, sir, and let a 
 strong man go to the guns." 
 
 It was even so. He sat down by the 
 pump, and sent the strong man to the 
 guns; and when the fight was ended, 
 there he was found, with a ball in his 
 heart. He was from Newport ; his name, 
 Wilson Mays ; his monument and epitaph, 
 the grateful memory of a whole nation. 
 
 As they were coming nearer and nearer 
 the British fleet (says Dr. Tomes, in his 
 admirable delineation of this battle), and 
 by twelve o'clock would certainly be in 
 the midst of action, the noonday-grog was 
 served in advance, and the bread-bags 
 freely emptied. In a moment after, how- 
 ever, every man was again at quarters. 
 Perry now went round the deck, from gun 
 to gun, stopping at each, carefully exam- 
 ining its condition, and passing a cheerful 
 word with the "captain." Recognizing 
 some of the old tars who had served on 
 board the Constitution, he said, "Well, 
 boys ! are you ready ? " " All ready) 
 
100 
 
 THE FIKST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 your honor ! " was the prompt reply, as 
 they touched their tarpaulins, or the hand- 
 kerchiefs in which some of them had 
 wrapped their heads, that they might be as 
 unencumbered as possible for the fight. 
 "But I need not say anything to you," 
 rejoined their commander " you know 
 how to beat these fellows" and he passed 
 on. His face now beamed with a smile of 
 friendly interest as he recognized some of 
 his fellow-townsmen, exclaiming, " Ah, 
 here are the Newport boys ! They will do 
 their duty, I warrant." 
 
 At fifteen minutes after eleven, a bugle 
 was sounded on board the enemy's head- 
 most ship, the Detroit, loud cheers burst 
 from all their crews, and a tremendous fire 
 opened upon the Lawrence, from the 
 British long-guns, and which, from the 
 shortness of the Lawrence's, the latter was 
 obliged to sustain for some forty minutes, 
 without being able to return a shot. 
 
 Losing no time in waiting for the other 
 ships, Commodore Perry kept on his course 
 in such gallant and determined style, that 
 the enemy supposed he meant immediately 
 to board. At about twelve o'clock, having 
 gained a more favorable position, the Law- 
 rence opened her fire, but the long-guns of 
 the British still gave them greatly the 
 advantage, and the Lawrence was exceed- 
 ingly cut up, without being able to do 
 much of any damage in return. Their 
 shot pierced her side in all directions, even 
 killing the men in the berth-deck and 
 steerage, where they had been carried to 
 be dressed. One shot had nearly produced 
 a fatal explosion ; passing through the 
 light room, it knocked the snuff of the 
 candle into the magazine but which was 
 fortunately seen by the gunner, who had 
 the presence of mind immediately to seize 
 and extinguish it. It appeared to be the 
 enemy's plan at all events to destroy the 
 commander's ship ; their heaviest fire was 
 directed against the Lawrence, and blazed 
 incessantly from all their largest vessels. 
 
 Finding the peculiar and imminent 
 hazard of his situation, Perry made all 
 sail, and directed the other vessels to 
 follow, for the purpose of closing with the 
 
 enemy. The tremendous fire, however, 
 to which he was exposed, soon cut away 
 every brace and bowline of the Lawrence, 
 and she became unmanageable. The other 
 vessels were unable to get up; and in this 
 disastrous situation, therefore, she still 
 continued to sustain the main force of the 
 enemy's fire, within canister distance, 
 though, during a considerable part of this 
 terrible ordeal, not more than two or three 
 of her guns could be brought to bear with 
 any material effect upon her antagonist. 
 
 Throughout all this scene of ghastly 
 horror, however, the utmost order and reg- 
 ularity prevailed, without the least sign of 
 trepidation or faintheartedness ; as fast as 
 the men at the guns were wounded, they 
 were quietly carried below, and others 
 stepped manfully into their places; the 
 dead remained where they fell, until after 
 the action. 
 
 At this juncture, the enemy believed 
 the battle to be won. The Lawrence was 
 reduced to a mere wreck ; her deck was 
 streaming with blood, and covered with 
 the mangled limbs and bodies of the slain, 
 nearly the whole of her crew were either 
 killed or wounded ; her guns, too, were 
 dismounted, the commodore and his offi- 
 cers personally working the last that was 
 capable of service, assisted by the few 
 hands yet remaining capable of duty. 
 According to the account given by Dr. 
 Parsons, the surgeon of the Lawrence, the 
 muscular material was reduced to its abso- 
 lute minimum. "When the battle had 
 raged an hour and a half," says Dr. Par- 
 sons, " I heard a call for me at the small 
 skylight, and, stepping toward it, I saw it 
 was the commodore, whose countenance 
 was calm and placid as if on ordinary 
 duty. ' Doctor,' said he, ' send me one of 
 your men,' meaning one of the six that 
 were to assist me ; which was done in- 
 stantly. In five minutes the call was 
 repeated and obeyed ; and at the seventh 
 call, I told him he had them all. He 
 asked if any could pull a rope, -when two 
 or three of the wounded crawled upon deck 
 to lend a feeble hand in pulling at the last 
 guns." So close and desperate was this 
 
THE FlltST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 167 
 
 conflict ; so brave asd courageous 
 the hearts of those who fought for 
 the honor and rights of America. 
 
 It was two o'clock, and Captain 
 Elliott, of the Niagara, was 
 enabled by the aid of a fresh 
 breeze to bring his ship into 
 close action in gallant style. 
 Finding, now, that no resistance 
 or hostility on the part of the 
 Lawrence could be profitably per- 
 sisted in, Perry suddenly formed 
 the determination to shift his flag 
 to Elliott's ship ; and, leaving his 
 own vessel in charge of her 
 lieutenant, the brave and gallant 
 Yarnall, he hauled down his 
 union-jack, and, taking it under 
 his arm, ordered a boat to put 
 him on board the Niagara. He 
 passed the line of the enemy, 
 exposed to a perfect shower of 
 their musketry, still standing in 
 the boat, waving his sword and 
 gallantly cheering his men, a 
 marked and pointed object from 
 three of the enemy's ships, until 
 he was forcibly pulled down by 
 his own men. He arrived safe, 
 and tumultuous huzzas rent the 
 air as he again unfurled and 
 hoisted aloft his union-jack, with 
 its inspiring motto, 'Don't give 
 up the ship ! ' gaily kissing the 
 breeze. On seeing their noble 
 commander step upon the deck of 
 the Niagara, the crew of the 
 Lawrence the few that yet 
 remained sent up three lusty 
 cheers. The question with which 
 Elliott first saluted Perry was 
 
 " How is the day going ? " 
 
 " Badly ! " was the brief reply ; 
 "and do you see those infernal 
 gun-boats they have lost us the 
 victory ! " 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Elliott ; " do 
 you take command of this ship, 
 and I will bring up the boats." 
 
 Elliott at once put off, to bring 
 up the schooners which had been 
 
108 
 
 THE FIEST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 kept back by the lightness of the wind. 
 At this moment, the flag of the Lawrence 
 was hauled down. Lieutenant Yarnall, 
 upon whom the command of the vessel 
 devolved after the commodore left her, 
 refused for some time to leave the deck, 
 though more than once wounded; and 
 Lieutenant Brooks and Midshipman Saul 
 were both killed. As the surgeon was 
 stooping, in the act of dressing or examin- 
 ing a wound, a ball passed through the 
 ship a few inches from his head, which, 
 had it been erect, must have been taken 
 off. The principal force of the enemy's fire 
 had now been sustained uninterruptedly 
 by the Lawrence, and, as she was rendered 
 totally incapable of defense, any further 
 show of resistance would have been a use- 
 less sacrifice of the remnant of her brave 
 and mangled crew. The enemy were at 
 the same time so crippled, that they were 
 unable to take possession of her, and cir- 
 cumstances soon enabled her crew again 
 to raise the American flag. 
 
 Commodore Perry now gave the signal 
 to all the vessels for close action. The 
 small vessels, under the direction of Elli- 
 ott, got out their sweeps, and made all 
 sail. On an inspection of the Niagara, 
 and finding her but little injured, Perry 
 determined upon the bold and desperate 
 expedient of breaking the enemy's line ; 
 he accordingly bore up and passed the 
 head of the two ships and brig, giving 
 them a raking fire from his starboard 
 guns, and also a raking fire upon a large 
 schooner and sloop, from his larboard 
 quarter, at half pistol shot. 
 
 Having brought the whole squadron 
 into action, Perry luffed up and laid his 
 ship alongside of the British commodore, 
 Barclay, of the Lady Prevost. Approach- 
 ing within half pistol shot, Perry's fire 
 was so destructive that the enemy's men 
 were compelled to run below. At this 
 moment the wind freshened, and the Cal- 
 edonia came up and opened her fire upon 
 the British; and several others of the 
 squadron were enabled soon after to do 
 the same, the small vessels having now 
 got up within good grape-and-canister 
 
 distance on the other quarter, inclosed 
 their enemy between them and the Niag- 
 ara, and in this position kept up a most 
 deadly fire on both quarters of the British. 
 For a time, the combat raged with inde- 
 scribable violence and fury. The result of 
 a campaign the command of a sea the 
 glory and renown of two rival nations 
 matched for the first time in squadron, 
 these were the issues at stake which in- 
 spirited the combatants. The contest was 
 not long doubtful. The Queen Charlotte 
 having lost her captain and all her princi- 
 pal officers, by some mischance ran foul of 
 her colleague, the Detroit. By this acci- 
 dent, the greater part of their guns were 
 rendered useless, and the two ships were 
 now in turn compelled to sustain an inces- 
 sant fire from the Niagara and the other 
 vessels of the American squadron. The 
 flag of Captain Barclay soon struck ; and 
 the Queen Charlotte, the Lady Prevost, 
 the Hunter, and the Chippewa, surren- 
 dered in immediate succession. The 
 Little Belt attempted to escape, but was 
 pursued by two gun-boats, and captured. 
 Thus, after a contest of three hours, was a 
 naval victory achieved by the Americans, 
 in which every vessel of the enemy was 
 captured. If anything could enhance its 
 brilliancy it was the modest and laconic 
 manner in which, Caesar-like, it was 
 announced by the gallant victor 
 
 "WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY, AND THEY 
 ABE OUBS ! " 
 
 The carnage in this action was very 
 great in proportion to the numbers en- 
 gaged. The Americans had twenty-seven 
 killed, and ninety-six wounded. The loss 
 of the British was about two hundred in 
 killed and wounded, many of these being 
 officers ; and the prisoners, amounting to 
 six hundred, exceeded the whole number 
 of Americans. Commodore Barclay, a 
 gallant sailor, one of whose arms had been 
 shot off at the battle of Trafalgar, under 
 Lord Nelson, was severely wounded in the 
 hip, and lost the use of his remaining arm. 
 Perry was but twenty-seven years old, and 
 had scarcely recovered from an attack of 
 the lake-fever, when he thus 'met the 
 
THE FIRST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 ley 
 
 enemy,' a circumstance that heightens 
 the estimate to be put upon his indomita- 
 ble perseverance and bravery on this occa- 
 sion. To his adroit transfer of his com- 
 mand to the Niagara, passing through the 
 thickest of the battle in an open boat, may 
 fairly be attributed his brilliant fortune 
 on that eventful day. His success raised 
 him to the very pinnacle of professional 
 renown, and the naval supremacy of the 
 United States upon the lakes was tri- 
 umphantly secured. 
 
 This important and decisive battle was 
 fought midway of the lake, between the 
 two hostile armies, who lay on the oppo- 
 site shores, waiting in anxious expectation 
 of its result, the allied British and Indian 
 forces, to the amount of nearly five thou- 
 sand, under Proctor and Tecumseh, being 
 ready, in case of a successful issue, to 
 renew their ravages on the American 
 borders. The fruits of this victory, there- 
 fore, were such as to cause unbounded 
 demonstrations of joy in the United States. 
 All party-feelings were for the time for- 
 gotten ; and the glorious occurrence was 
 celebrated by illuminations and festivities, 
 from one end of the continent to the other. 
 During this same year, our gallant navy 
 was victorious in the capture of the sloop- 
 of-war Peacock, by Captain James Law- 
 rence ; and in the capture of the brig 
 Boxer, by the Enterprise, commanded by 
 Lieutenant Barrows. The British, how- 
 ever, on the first of June, rejoiced in the 
 capture of the Chesapeake by the frigate 
 Shannon, off Boston harbor, and, on the 
 fourteenth of August, in the capture of the 
 Argus, Captain Allen, by the Pelican. 
 The British were also victorious on land, 
 at the battles of Mackinaw, Queenstown, 
 Frenchtown, and some other points ; but 
 lost the battles of York, Fort Meigs, and 
 the Thames. The proposed invasion of 
 Canada, under the direction of Generals 
 Dearborn, Wilkinson, Hampton, Lewis, 
 and Izard, proved a failure. Such a vic- 
 tory, therefore, as that of Perry, was well 
 calculated to fill the nation with joy. 
 
 The struggle being ended, and Perry 
 acquainting himself with the condition 
 
 and wants of the several vessels and their 
 crews, at last visited the shattered remains 
 of the Lawrence. The deck was slip- 
 pery with blood and brains, and strewed 
 with the bodies of officers and men, and 
 the ship resounded everywhere with the 
 groans of the wounded. Those of the 
 crew who were spared and able to walk or 
 limp, approached the gallant captain with 
 tears in their eyes, and with outstretched 
 arms of welcome ; but the salutation was 
 a silent one on both sides, so overcome 
 with emotion were the hearts of these 
 brave men, that not a word could find 
 utterance. The principal loss in the 
 whole action was on board the Lawrence, 
 so indomitable was Perry's resolution not 
 to be conquered. In memory of this he- 
 roic service to his country, there was 
 erected in 1860, at Cleveland, Ohio, near 
 the scene of his great battle, a marble 
 statue by Walcutt. 
 
 Two days after the battle, two Indian 
 chiefs who had been selected for their 
 skill as marksmen, and stationed in the 
 tops of the Detroit for the purpose of pick- 
 ing off the American officers, were found 
 snugly stowed away in the hold of that 
 ship. These savages, who had been ac- 
 customed to vessels of no greater magni- 
 tude than what they could sling upon their 
 backs, when the action became warm, 
 were so panic-struck at the terrors of the 
 scene and at the strange perils surround- 
 ing them, that, looking at each other in 
 amazement, they vociferated their signifi- 
 cant ' Quonth ! ' and precipitately de- 
 scended to the hold. In their British 
 uniforms, hanging in bags upon their fam- 
 ished bodies, they were now brought be- 
 fore Commodore Perry, fed, and discharged, 
 no further parole being necessary to 
 prevent their ever engaging again in a 
 similar contest. 
 
 The slain of the crews of both squadrons 
 were committed to the lake immediately 
 after the action ; and, the next day, the 
 funeral obsequies of the American and 
 British officers who had fallen, were per- 
 formed at an opening on the margin of 
 the bay, in an appropriate and affecting 
 
170 
 
 THE FIRST SQUADRON COMBAT. 
 
 manner. The crews of both fleets united 
 in the ceremony. The autumnal stillness 
 of the weather the procession of boats 
 the music the slow and regular motion 
 of the oars, striking in exact time with the 
 notes of the solemn dirge the mournful 
 waving of the flags the sound of the 
 minute-guns from all the ships the wild 
 and solitary aspect of the place ; all these 
 gave to this funeral ceremonial a most 
 impressive influence, iu striking contrast 
 with the terrible conflict of the preceding 
 day. Two American and three .British 
 officers were interred side by side of each 
 other, in this lonely place of sepulture, on 
 the margin of the lake, a few paces from 
 the beach. 
 
 In his official dispatch, Perry speaks in 
 the highest terms of the co-operation, 
 bravery and judgment, of his associate, 
 Captain Elliott. Nevertheless, there is 
 universal agreement with the assertion 
 made by Mackenzie, the appreciating biog- 
 rapher of this heroic commander, that the 
 battle of Erie was won not merely by the 
 genius and inspiration, but eminently by 
 the exertions, of one man, a young man 
 of twenty-seven, who had never beheld a 
 naval engagement. He had dashed boldly 
 into action with the Lawrence, trusting 
 that the rear of his line would soon be 
 able to close up to his support. Sustained, 
 however, only by the Caledonia, the Ariel, 
 and the Scorpion, he resisted for two hours 
 or more the whole of the British squadron. 
 Overcome at last, Perry made a new ar- 
 rangement of his remaining resources, and 
 snatched from the enemy, with desperate 
 
 obstinacy, a victory which that enemy had 
 already claimed with exulting cheers for 
 his own. This he accomplished by an 
 evolution unsurpassed for genius and hard- 
 ihood, bearing down with dauntless assur- 
 ance upon the whole of the opposing fleet, 
 and dashing with his fresh and uninjured 
 vessel through the enemy's line, to their 
 dismay and complete discomfiture. And 
 
 this victory on the lake was so much the 
 more important from its enabling General 
 Harrison to recover from the British in- 
 vaders the American territory which they 
 had occupied, and to pursue them into 
 Canada, where, on the fifth of October, 
 they were totally routed in the battle of 
 the Thames. Nearly all the British force 
 was either captured or slain, and their 
 famous Indian ally, Tecumseh, here ended 
 his life. 
 
XXI. 
 
 / 
 
 GENERAL JACKSON'S TEERIBLE ROUT AND SLAUGHTER 
 OF THE BRITISH ARMY AT NEW ORLEANS. 1815. 
 
 His Consummate Generalship in the Order and Conduct of this Campaign. The War with England 
 Terminated by a Sudden and Splendid Victory to the American Arms. Jackson is Hailed as One 
 of the Greatest of Modern Warriors, and as the Deliverer and Second Savior of His Country. 
 National Military Prestige Gained by this Decisive Battle British Invasion of Louisiana. Prepar- 
 ations to Resist Them. Jackson Hastens to New Orleans. His Presence Inspires Confidence. 
 Martial Law Proclaimed. Progress of the British Forces. They Rendezvous at Ship Island. 
 Pirates and Indians for Allies. Capture of the United States Flotilla. Arrival of Veterans from 
 England Desperate Attempts at Storming. Both Armies Face Each Other. The Day of Action, 
 January Eighth. General Pakenham Leads the Charge. His Motto, " Booty and Beauty." Fire 
 and Death Open Upon Them. They are Mown Down Like Grass. Pakenham Falls at the Onset. 
 Panic and Precipitate Retreat. America's Motto, " Victory or Death." The Result at Home and 
 Abroad Startling and Impressive Effect. 
 
 14 The redcoats will find out whom they hive to deal with. I will imuh them, 10 help me Godi" GMEKAL JACKSOK, ox issnmxo 
 
 THE DEFENSE OF NEW OftLEAH 8. 
 
 T is a fact fruitful of the most suggestive reflections, 
 that, had the facilities of communication by steam 
 and electricity been enjoyed iu 1815, as they are at 
 the present time, the battle of New Orleans, and 
 the blood which flowed so freely on that memorable 
 occasion, would have been spared ; for, only two 
 weeks previous to the sanguinary conflict, namely, on the 24th 
 of December, 1814, the treaty of peace between the United 
 States and Great Britain was signed at Ghent, by the ap- 
 pointed commissioners, a most joyous event to all, but the 
 tidings of which did not, unfortunately, reach the contending 
 armies in Louisiana, until several weeks after the battle took 
 place. Nevertheless, perhaps no other battle in American 
 annals, up to that period, had given such prestige to the valor 
 of American arms, nor can any estimate be made of the 
 
172 
 
 BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 immense consequences of that victory to 
 General Jackson and his country. Mr. 
 Bancroft, the historian, says that the 
 heroes of antiquity would have contem- 
 plated with .awe the unmatched hardihood 
 of Jackson's character. 
 
 The circumstances which led to a battle 
 so creditable in its result to the genius 
 and bravery of the American army were 
 as follows : On the twenty-fifth of August, 
 1814, a British army landed at Pensacola, 
 and took forcible possession of the place, 
 being aided by the Spaniards in all their 
 proceedings ; they collected all the Indians 
 that would resort to their standard; and 
 Colonel Nichols, the chief British com- 
 mander, even sent an officer to the notori- 
 ous piratical establishment at Barataria 
 to enlist the chief, Lafitte, and his follow- 
 ers, in their cause, the most liberal and 
 tempting inducements being held out. 
 These people, however, showed a decided 
 preference for the American cause, and, 
 deceiving the English by delay, conveyed 
 intelligence of their designs to the gov- 
 ernor of New Orleans, and frankly offered 
 their services to defend the country. Dis- 
 appointed in securing their aid, the expe- 
 dition proceeded to the attack of Fort 
 Bowyer, on Mobile point, commanded by 
 Major Lawrence. The result, however, 
 was a loss to the besiegers of more than 
 two hundred men ; the commodore's ship 
 was so disabled that they set fire to her, 
 and she blew up, and the remaining three 
 vessels, shattered and filled with wounded 
 men, returned to Pensacola. While the 
 British were thus sheltered in this place, 
 busily occupied in bringing over the Indi- 
 ans to join them, General Jackson, who, 
 after the peace with the Creeks had -become 
 active commander at the south, formed 
 an expedition of about four thousand men, 
 to dislodge them. He summoned the 
 town, was refused entrance by the Spanish 
 governor, and his flag of truce was fired 
 upon ; the British soldiers being also in 
 the forts, where their flag had been 
 hoisted, in conjunction with the Spanish, 
 the day before the American forces 
 appeared. Preparations were immediately 
 
 made to carry the place; one battery 
 having been taken by storm, with slight 
 loss on either side, the governor surren- 
 deied, the English having previously 
 retired on board their ships. The forts 
 below, which commanded the passage, 
 were blown up, and this enabled the 
 English fleet to put to sea. 
 
 Returning to Mobile, General Jackson 
 learned that preparations were making by 
 the British for the invasion of Louisiana, 
 and with especial reference to an attack 
 on New Orleans. 
 
 He according] ) hastened to New Orleans, 
 which he found hi great alarm and confu- 
 sion. He at onjc put in operation the 
 most rigorous measures of defense. The 
 militia of Louisiana and Mississippi were 
 ordered out en masse, and large detach- 
 ments from Tennessee and Kentucky. 
 From a previous correspondence with Gov- 
 ernor Claiborne, General Jackson had been 
 informed that the city corps had, for the 
 most part, refused obedience to the orders 
 which had been given them to turn out ; 
 that they had been encouraged in their dis- 
 obedience by the state legislature, then in 
 session in the city ; and that, although 
 there were many faithful citizens in the 
 place, there were many others who were 
 more devoted to the interests of Spain, and 
 others still whose hostility to the English 
 was less observable than their dislike to 
 American government. 
 
 Under these circumstances, and finding 
 that the statements relative to the disaf- 
 fection of the populace were fully confirmed, 
 Jackson, on consultation with the gover- 
 nor, in conjunction with Judge Hall, and 
 many influential persons of the city, on 
 the sixteenth of December, issued an 
 order, declaring the city and environs of 
 New Orleans to be under strict martial 
 law. 
 
 Nor were the military modes and plans 
 adopted by General Jackson, outside of 
 the city proper, wanting in efficiency. 
 Fort St. Philip, which guarded the passage 
 of the river at the detour la Plaquemine. 
 was strengthened and placed under the 
 command of Major Overton, an able and 
 
BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 173 
 
 skillful engineer. A site was also selected 
 for works of defense, four miles below the 
 city, where its destinies were ultimately to 
 be determined. The right rested on the 
 river, and the left was flanked by an 
 impenetrable cypress swamp, which ex- 
 tended eastward to Lake Pontchartrain, 
 and westward to within a mile of the river. 
 Between the swamp and the river was a 
 large ditch or artificial bayou which had 
 been made for agricultural objects, but 
 which now served an important military 
 purpose. On the northern bank of this 
 ditch, the entrenchments were thrown up, 
 and large quantities of cotton-bales so 
 arranged, that the troops could be 
 effectually protected from the fire of the 
 British. Each flank was secured by an 
 advance bastion, and the latter protected 
 by batteries in the rear. These works 
 were well mounted with artillery. Oppo- 
 site this position, on the west bank of the 
 river, on a rising ground, General Morgan, 
 with the city and drafted militia, was sta- 
 tioned ; and Commodore Patterson, with 
 the crews of the Caroline and Louisiana, 
 and the guns of the latter, formed another, 
 near General Morgan's ; both of which 
 entirely enfiladed the approach of an 
 enemy against the principal works. A 
 detachment was stationed above the town, 
 to guard the pass of the bayou St. John, 
 if an attempt should be made from that 
 quarter. 
 
 On the twenty-second of December, the 
 enemy proceeded from their rendezvous on 
 Ship island, with all their boats and small 
 craft capable of navigating the lake to the 
 bayou Bienvenue, and having surprised 
 and captured the videttes at the mouth of 
 the bayou, the first division accomplished 
 their landing unobserved. Major-General 
 Villery, of the New Orleans militia, living 
 on the baj'ou, to whom the important 
 service of making the first attack, and 
 giving notice of the enemy's approach was 
 intrusted, found them on his own planta- 
 tion, nine miles below the city, without 
 any previous knowledge of their approach. 
 
 The morning of New Year's day, 1815, 
 was very dark and foggy amid the swamps 
 
 and bogs of New Orleans, and the day was 
 somewhat advanced before the Americans 
 discerned how near the enemy had ap- 
 proached to them, or the novel use which 
 had been made of their molasses and sugar 
 hogsheads. In the course of the day, 
 under cover of these batteries, three 
 unsuccessful attempts were made to storm 
 the American works. By four in the 
 afternoon, all the enemy's batteries were 
 silenced, and the next night found them 
 in their former position. 
 
 On the fourth of January, General 
 Adair arrived, with four thousand Ken- 
 tucky militia, principally without arms. 
 The muskets and munitions of war, des- 
 tined for the supply of this corps, were 
 provided at Pittsburg, but did not leave 
 that place until the twenty-fifth of Decem- 
 ber, and arrived at New Orleans not until 
 several days after the decisive battle of 
 January eighth. On the sixth, the enemy 
 received their last re-enforcement of three 
 thousand men from England, under Major- 
 General Lambert. But before the final 
 assault on the American lines, the British 
 general deemed it necessary to dislodge 
 General Morgan and Commodore Patter- 
 son, from their positions on the right 
 bank. These posts so effectually enfiladed 
 the approach to General Jackson's works, 
 that the army advancing to the assault, 
 must be exposed to the most imminent 
 hazard. To accomplish this object, boats 
 were to be transported across the island 
 from lake Borgne to the Mississippi ; for 
 this purpose the British had been labori- 
 ously employed in deepening and widening 
 the canal or bayou Bienvenue, on which 
 they first disembarked. On the seventh, 
 thej- succeeded in opening the embank- 
 ment on the river, and completing a com- 
 munication from the lake to the Missis- 
 sippi. In pushing the boats through, it 
 was found, at some places, that the canal 
 was not of sufficient width, and at others 
 the banks fell in and choked the passage, 
 thus occasioning great delay ; at length, 
 however, they succeeded in hauling through 
 a sufficient number to transport five hun- 
 dred troops to the right bank. 
 
174 
 
 BATTLE OF NEW OKLEANS. 
 
 On the left bank, where General Jack- 
 son in person commanded, everything was 
 in readiness to meet the assault when it 
 should be made. The redoubt on the 
 levee was defended by a company under 
 Lieutenant Boss. The regular troops 
 occupied that part of the entrenchment 
 next to the river. General Carroll's divi- 
 sion was in the center, supported by Gen- 
 eral Adair's Kentucky troops ; while the 
 extreme left, extending for a considerable 
 distance into the swamp, was protected by 
 the brigade of General Coffee. How soon 
 the onset should take place, was uncertain ; 
 at what moment rested with the enemy, 
 with the Americans, to be in readiness for 
 
 pace with the zeal and preparation of the 
 enemy. He seldom slept ; he was always 
 at his post, performing the duties of both 
 general and soldier. His sentinels were 
 doubled, and extended as far as possible in 
 the direction of the British camp ; while a 
 considerable portion of the troops were 
 constantly at the line, with arms in their 
 hands, ready to act, when the first alarm 
 should be given. For eight days did the 
 two armies remain thus upon the same 
 field, in battle array and in view of each 
 other, without anything decisive on either 
 side being effected. Twice, since their 
 landing, had the British columns essayed 
 to effect by storm the execution of their 
 
 resistance. There were many circum- 
 stances, however, favoring the belief that 
 the hour of contest was fast approaching ; 
 the unusual bustle, the efforts of the 
 enemy to carry their boats into the river, 
 the fascines and scaling-ladders that 
 were preparing; all these circumstances 
 indicated the hour of attack to be near at 
 hand. General Jackson was not 'only 
 unmoved by these appearances, but, accord- 
 ing to General Eaton's statements, he 
 anxiously desired a contest, which, he 
 believed, would give a triumph to his 
 arms, and terminate the hardships of his 
 soldiers. Unremitting in exertion, and 
 constantly vigilant, his precaution kept 
 
 plans, and twice had failed and retired 
 from the contest. 
 
 The eighth 0^ January, 1815, at length 
 arrived. The day dawned ; and the sig- 
 nals, intended to produce concert -in the 
 enemy's movements, were descried. On 
 the left, near the swamp, a sky-rocket was 
 perceived rising in the air ; and presently 
 another ascended from the right, next the 
 river. They were intended to announce 
 that all was prepared and ready, to proceed 
 and carry by storm a defense which again 
 and again had foiled their utmost efforts. 
 Instantly the charge was made, and with 
 such rapidity, that the American soldiers 
 at the outposts with difficulty fled in. 
 
BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 175 
 
 The British batteries, which had been 
 demolished 0:1 the first of the month, had 
 been re-established during the preceding 
 night, and heavy pieces of cannon mounted, 
 to aid in their intended operations. These 
 now opened, and showers of bombs and 
 balls were poured upon our line, while the 
 air was lighted with their congreve rock- 
 ets. The two divisions, commanded by 
 Sir Edward Pakenham in person, and 
 supported by Generals Keane and Gibbs, 
 pressed forward; the right against the 
 center of General Carroll's command, 
 the left against our redoubt on the levee. 
 A thick fog, that obscured the morning, 
 enabled them to approach within a short 
 distance of our entrenchment, before they 
 were discovered. They were now perceived 
 advancing, with firm, quick, and steady 
 pace, in column, with a front of sixty or 
 seventy deep. The American troops, who 
 had for some time been in readiness, and 
 waiting their appearance, gave three deaf- 
 ening cheers, and instantly the whole line 
 was lighted with the blaze of their fire. 
 A burst of artillery and small-arms, pour- 
 ing with destructive aim upon them, 
 mowed down their front, and arrested their 
 advance. It was a perfect sheet of fire 
 and death ! 
 
 The havoc and horror before them the 
 terrible carnage which swept down their 
 advancing ranks, became at last too 
 great to be withstood, and already were 
 the British troops seen wavering in their 
 determination, and receding from the con- 
 flict. At this moment, Sir Edward Paken- 
 ham, the distinguished commander-in-chief 
 of the British forces, hastening to the 
 front, endeavored to encourage and inspire 
 them with renewed zeal. His example, 
 however, was of short continuance, for, 
 when near the crest of the glacis, he 
 received a ball in the knee ; still continu- 
 ing to lead on his men, another shot soon 
 pierced his body, and he was carried in 
 mortal agony from the field, in the arms of 
 his aid-de-camp. Nearly at the same time, 
 Major-General Gibbs, the second British 
 officer in command, received a mortal 
 wound when within a few yards of the 
 
 lines, and was removed. The third in 
 command also, Major-General Keane, 
 while at the head of his troops near the 
 glacis, was terribly wounded, and at once 
 borne away. 
 
 At this moment, General Lambert, 
 who had arrived from England but two 
 days before, and found himself now the 
 only surviving general, was advancing at 
 a small distance in the rear, with the 
 reserve, and met the columns precipitately 
 retreating, broken and confused. His 
 efforts to stop them were unavailing, 
 onward they continued in their headlong 
 retreat, until they reached a ditch, at the 
 distance of four hundred yards, where a 
 momentary safety being found, the pant- 
 ing and fear-stricken fugitives were ral- 
 lied, and halted. 
 
 The field before them, over which they 
 had so confidently advanced, was strewed 
 with the dead and dying. Imminent 
 danger faced them ; yet, urged and en- 
 couraged by their officers, who feared 
 their own disgrace involved in the failure, 
 they again moved to the charge. They 
 were already near enough to deploy, and 
 were endeavoring to do so ; but the same 
 constant and unremitted resistance that 
 caused their first retreat, continued yet 
 unabated. Our batteries had never ceased 
 their fire; their constant discharges of 
 grape and canister, and the fatal aim of 
 our musketry, mowed down the front of 
 the columns as fast as they could be 
 formed. Satisfied nothing could be done, 
 and that certain destruction awaited all 
 further attempts, they forsook the contest 
 and the field in disorder, leaving it almost 
 entirely covered with the dead and 
 wounded. It was in vain their officers 
 endeavored to animate them to further 
 resistance, and equally vain to attempt 
 coercion. The panic produced by the 
 dreadful repulse they had experienced, 
 the sight of the field on which they had 
 acted, covered with the ghastly bodies of 
 their countrymen, and the bitter fact 
 that, with their most zealous exertions, 
 they had been unable to obtain the 
 slightest advantage; all these circum- 
 
176 
 
 BATTLE OF jN'EW ORLEANS. 
 
 stances were well calculated to make even 
 the most submissive soldier oppose the 
 
 fry? if 
 
 authority that would have controlled him. ! 
 The decided advantage of the Americans ; 
 
 pave to the conduct of the enemy more of 
 the character of madness than of valor. 
 As has already been stated, the 
 fall of General Pakenham and 
 the two next in command de- 
 volved the leadership upon 
 Lambert, the only general offi- 
 cer left upon the field, and to 
 whom had been consigned the 
 charge of the reserve ; and 
 though, meeting the discom- 
 fited troops in their flight, he 
 endeavored to restore the for- 
 tune of the day, the effort was 
 fruitless to the last degree. 
 
 On the ninth, General Lam- 
 bert determined to relinquish 
 altogether so desperate and 
 hopeless an enterprise, and 
 
 K immediately commenced the 
 necessary preparations, though 
 with the utmost secrecy. It 
 
 c was not unti! the night of the 
 
 | eighteenth, however, that the 
 British camp was entirely 
 evacuated. 
 
 The loss of the British in 
 
 v this fatal expedition was im- 
 mense, the narrow field of strife 
 between the opposing combat 
 
 S ants being strewed with dead. 
 
 c So dreadful a carnage, consid- 
 
 | ering the length of time and 
 the numbers engaged, has sel- 
 dom been recorded. Two thou- 
 sand, at the lowest estimate, 
 pressed the earth, besides such 
 of the wounded as were not 
 able to escape. The loss of the 
 Americans did not exceed seven 
 killed, and six wounded. Mili- 
 tary annals do not furnish a 
 more extraordinary instance of 
 disparity in the slain, between 
 the victors and vanquished. 
 The entire British force en- 
 gaged in this attempted reduc- 
 tion of New Orleans, amounted 
 to twelve thousand men ; the 
 Americans numbered some six thousand, 
 chiefly militia. 
 
BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 177 
 
 Pakenham, the distinguished leader of 
 the British forces, was a brother-in-law of 
 the great Duke of Wellington, had long 
 been in high repute for military skill and 
 personal bravery, and on- this occasion 
 numbered among his troops those who had 
 won laurels of victory on the battle-fields 
 of Europe. But, that he felt convinced of 
 the magnitude and hazard of his present 
 undertaking, as distinguished from all 
 previous ones, is evident. When an officer 
 leads his troops on a forlorn attempt, he 
 not unfrequently places before them allure- 
 ments stronger than either authority or 
 duty. According to General Eaton's his- 
 torical statements, a positive charge is 
 made against General Pakenham, in this 
 respect, inducements having been held 
 out by him, than which nothing more 
 inviting could be offered to an infuriated 
 soldiery. By this gallant but misguided 
 general, there was promised to his soldiers 
 to excite their cupidity the wealth of 
 the city, as a recompense for their gal- 
 lantry and desperation; while, with brutal 
 licentiousness, they were to revel in lawless 
 indulgence, and triumph, uncontrolled, 
 over female innocence. The history of 
 Europe, since civilized warfare began, may 
 be challenged to afford an instance of such 
 gross and wanton outrage. The facts and 
 circumstances which were developed at the 
 time, left no doubt on the minds of the 
 American officers, but that ' Booty and 
 Beauty' was the British watchword of the 
 day. The information was obtained from 
 prisoners, and confirmed by the books of 
 two of their orderly sergeants taken in 
 battle. 
 
 Jackson was well aware, from the first, 
 of the bold and reckless character of the 
 enemy he had to deal with. With patri- 
 otic indignation he declared: "The red- 
 coats will find out whom they have to deal 
 with. 1 will smash them, so help me 
 God ! " And the spirit with which he led 
 
 12 
 
 his men forward may be easily judged of 
 from his emphatic exclamation " Kemem- 
 ber, our watchword is ' Victory or Death !' 
 We will enjoy our liberty, or perish in the 
 last ditch ! " Never before did a general 
 bring upon his troops such a spell of 
 enthusiastic devotion to himself, and to 
 the demands of the hour. So, too, in the 
 flush of triumph, he did not forget mercy 
 and magnanimity. " General Jackson," 
 says Blackwood's Magazine, of London, 
 " behaved with humanity and generosity 
 to all his prisoners, which did him as great 
 honor as his conduct in the defense. We 
 do not hesitate to call him a great man." 
 Such was the encomium bestowed upon 
 him by the pen of an enemy,^-one of 
 the most influential organs of British 
 opinion. 
 
 At this time, the person of General 
 Jackson is described as being neither 
 robust nor elegant. He was six feet and 
 one inch high, remarkably straight and 
 spare, and weighing about one hundred 
 and forty-five pounds. His physique 
 appeared to disqualify him for hardship; 
 yet, accustomed to it from early life, few 
 were capable of enduring fatigue to the 
 same extent, or with less injury. His 
 dark blue eyes, with brows arched and 
 slightly projecting, possessed a marked 
 expression; but when from any cause 
 excited, they sparkled with peculiar luster 
 and penetration. In his manners he was 
 pleasing in his address commanding. 
 His countenance, marked with firmness 
 and decision, yet beamed with a strength 
 and intelligence that struck at first sight. 
 In his deportment, he was easy, affable, 
 familiar, and accessible to all. 
 
 The annunciation of the triumphant 
 defense of New Orleans was hailed, in 
 every section of the country, with accla- 
 mations of delight, and won for Jackson 
 the title of " the conqueror of the con- 
 querors of Napoleon." 
 
XXII. 
 
 THE EVER-MEMORABLE SEPTEMBER GALE. 1815. 
 
 Its Violence and Destructiveness Without a Parallel Since the Settlement of the Country. Terroi 
 Excited by Its Sudden and Tumultuous Force. Unprecedented Phenomena of Tempest, Deluge and 
 Flood. One Hour of Indescribable Havoc on the Land and Sea. Premonitory Indications. Heavy 
 North-east Rains. Sudden and Violent Changes of Wind. Its Rapidity and Force Indescribable. 
 Demolition of Hundreds of Buildings. Orchards and Forests Instantly Uprooted. Raging and 
 Foaming of the Sea. Its Spray Drives Like a Snow-storm over the Land. Tremendous Rise in the 
 Tides. Irresistible Impetuosity of the Flood. Several Feet of Water in the Streets. Innumerable 
 Fragments Fill the Air. Flight for Safety to the Fields. The Whole Coast Swarms with Wrecks. 
 Perils, Escapes, Fatalities. Peculiar Meteorological Facts. Bright Skies in the Midst of the Tem- 
 pest. Suffocating Current of Hot Air. Sea Fowls in the Depths of the Interior. Effect Upon 
 Lands, Crops, and Wells. All New England Desolated. Comparison with Other Gales. 
 
 " Still ovcrheid 
 
 The mingling tempest wears its Bloom, and still 
 The deluge deepens; till the fields around 
 Lie iu nk and United in the sordid wave. 
 
 All that the winds had spared. 
 In one wild moment ruined." 
 
 jUDGINC- from all the information, historical 
 and traditional, relating to the great American 
 gales during the last hundred years, it would 
 appear that the one which occurred in New 
 England, on the 23d of September, 1815, was 
 and is still without a parallel, in its extraordi- 
 nary characteristics of violence and destruc- 
 tiveness. In the history of the country, 
 dating back to its earliest annals, there is no 
 account of any gale or hurricane equaling 
 this, in its various phenomena of suddenness, 
 severity and power. As distinguishing it, 
 therefore, above all others of its class, this 
 has ever since been called the Great Septem- 
 ber Gale. 
 
 The observations of the character, course 
 and effects of this wonderful storm, made by 
 Professor Farrar and others, for the latitude 
 of Boston, show that it was there preceded by 
 rain, which continued to fall for about twenty-four hours with a moderate wind 
 from the north-east. Early in the morning of the twenty-third, the wind shifted 
 to the east, and began to blow in gusts accompanied with showers. It continued 
 
 DESTRUCTION BY THE GREAT GALE AND FLOOD. 
 
THE EVEK-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 179 
 
 to change toward the south and to increase 
 in violence while the rain abated. Be- 
 tween nine and ten o'clock in the fore- 
 noon, it began to excite alarm. Chimnej's 
 and trees were blown over both to the 
 west and north ; but shingles and slates, 
 that were torn from the roofs of buildings, 
 were carried to the greatest distance in the 
 direction of about three points west of 
 north. 
 
 Between half-past ten and half-past 
 eleven o'clock, the greatest destruction 
 took place. The rain ceased about the 
 time the wind shifted from south-east to 
 south ; a clear sky was visible in many 
 places during the utmost violence of the 
 tempest, and clouds were seen flying with 
 great rapidity in the direction of the wind. 
 The air had an unusual appearance. It 
 was considerably darkened by the exces- 
 sive agitation, and filled with the leaves 
 of trees and other light substances, which 
 were raised to a great height and whirled 
 about in eddies, instead of being driven 
 directly forward as in a common storm. 
 The rivers raged and foamed like the sea in 
 a storm, and the spray was raised to the 
 height of sixty or one hundred feet in the 
 form of thin white clouds, which were 
 drifted along in a kind of wave form, like 
 snow in a violent snow-storm. Travelers 
 were frequently driven back by the force 
 of the wind, and were obliged to screen 
 themselves behind fences and trees or to 
 advance obliquely. It was impossible for 
 even the stoutest man to stand firm in a 
 place exposed to the full force of the wind. 
 The pressure of the wind was like that 
 of a rapid current of water; pedestrians 
 could with great difficulty hear each other 
 speak at the distance of two or three 
 yards; and they moved about almost as 
 awkwardly as if attempting to wade in a 
 strong tide. 
 
 In Boston harbor, the sea had risen 
 unusually high, two hours before the calen- 
 dar time of high water. But the direction 
 of the wind at this time tended to coun- 
 teract the tide, and thus secured the port 
 from that awful calamity which threatened 
 it. Great losses, however, were sustained 
 
 from the wind alone ; many buildings 
 were blown down, great numbers were 
 unroofed or otherwise injured, and few 
 entirely escaped. The most calamitous 
 destruction befell the trees, orchards and 
 forests exhibiting a scene of desolation, 
 the like of which had never before been 
 witnessed in America. The roads in many 
 places were rendered impassable, not only 
 through woods, but in the more cultivated 
 towns, where they happened to be lined 
 with trees ; and the streets in Boston and 
 neighboring towns were strewed with the 
 ruins of innumerable gardens and fruit- 
 yards. A considerable proportion of the 
 large and beautiful trees in Boston mall, 
 and in other public walks, some of which 
 trees measured from eight to twelve feet 
 in circumference, were torn up by the 
 roots and prostrated. Apple trees, in 
 especial, being separated at a considerable 
 distance from each other, were overturned 
 in great numbers ; no less than five thoitr 
 sand were thus destroyed in the town of 
 Dorchester alone. In this same town, 
 also, seventeen houses were unroofed, sixty 
 chimneys blown over, and about forty 
 barns demolished. 
 
 Ehode Island felt the full force of this 
 remarkable gale, Providence suffering to 
 the amount of millions of dollars, accom- 
 panied with a fearful loss of life, as in 
 other places. This was owing to the wind 
 blowing directly up the river on which the 
 place is built, unbroken by the cape or 
 Long Island, and in sweeping over such 
 an extent of water it accumulated a dread- 
 ful and most destructive tide, so that 
 vessels were actually driven over the 
 wharves and through the streets. Early 
 in the morning, the wind was north-east, 
 but, at about eight, it shifted to south-east, 
 and soon began to blow violently, continu- 
 ing to increase until ten, when it became 
 a hurricane. All was now confusion and 
 dismay in the exposed region. The tide, 
 impelled by the tempest, overflowed the 
 wharves ; vessels, broken from their moor- 
 ings in the stream, and their fastenings at 
 the wharves, were seen driving with dread- 
 ful impetuosity towards the bridge, which 
 
180 
 
 THE EVER-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 they swept away, without a moment's 
 check to their progress, and passed oil to 
 the head of the basin, where they drove 
 high up the bank. Every exertion to 
 protect property, was rendered futile by 
 the violence of the wind, the rapid rise of 
 the water, and the falling of trees ; indeed, 
 these, with the crashing of chimneys, 
 tumbling upon the houses and descending 
 into the streets, together with tiles and 
 railings from the tops of buildings, and 
 many other species of dangerous missile 
 flying through the air, rendered it perilous 
 to appear in the streets. All considera- 
 tion of property, however, was soon for- 
 gotten in the more important one of self- 
 preservation. The tempest still raged 
 
 elements, were seen removing the panic- 
 stricken inmates ; and on the east side, an 
 awful torrent rolled through the main 
 street, in depth nearly to a man's waist r 
 and by which boats, masts, bales of cotton, 
 and immense quantities of property of 
 every description, were driven along with 
 resistless force. It was an awful and ter- 
 rific scene. Every store below, on the 
 east side, was either carried away or com- 
 pletely shattered ; and every building on 
 the opposite side and on the wharves, were 
 swept from their foundations so that all 
 the space, where, an hour or two before, 
 were so many valuable wharves and stores 
 crowded with shipping and merchandise, 
 was now one wide waste of tumultuous 
 
 THE EVER-MEMORABLE OALE, SEPTEMBER 23, 1815. 
 
 with increasing violence ; the flood was 
 overwhelming the lower parts of the town ; 
 stores and dwelling-houses were tottering 
 on their foundations, and then, plunging 
 into the deluge, blended their shattered 
 remains with the wrecks of vessels, the 
 whole passing, with irresistible impetuos- 
 ity, in full view, on the current to the head 
 of the cove, to join the already accumu- 
 lated mass of similar wrecks. 
 
 By this time, the water on the west side 
 of the river had risen nearly to the tops of 
 the lower windows of the houses, and boats 
 and 'scows, struggling with the maddened 
 
 water. Only two small vessels, of all that 
 were in the harbor, succeeded in riding 
 out the gale, all the rest having drifted 
 ashore, or been carried high up on the 
 wharves. It was such a scene of wide- 
 spread ruin and desolation, as beggars all 
 description vessels of all kinds and in 
 every position, blended promiscuously, 
 with carriages, lumber, -wrecks of build- 
 ings of every variety, furniture, and tens 
 of thousands of fragments from far and 
 near, all told the story of universal havoc 
 and destruction. Women and children were 
 saved in boats from chambers indows. 
 
THE EVER-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 181 
 
 One distressing and peculiar scene, 
 which took place among the shipping, will 
 serve as a description of a thousand other 
 cases which occurred during the storm. A 
 brig, loaded and ready for sea, with live- 
 stock, drove against the end of a wharf, 
 and her head rested on it; here she hung, 
 appearing every moment as if she would 
 upset, and plunge her crew into the raging 
 flood. The men were seen clinging to her, 
 awaiting their fate, as no soul could ven- 
 ture to their succor, the whole distance 
 between the vessel and the houses being 
 filled with roofs and parts of stores tum- 
 bling with the violence of the tempest. 
 Expecting every moment to be precipitated 
 into the torrent, they determined at last 
 upon the final but perilous attempt to quit 
 the vessel and gain the houses. Strug- 
 gling with the violence of the gale, and 
 with the rolling and bounding materials, 
 in endeavoring to get a foothold, they at 
 last reached the rear of the houses, where 
 some were taken into the second story, 
 and others, unable to be reached, succeeded 
 in braving the waves until they swam to a 
 place of safety. 
 
 But it would be absolutely impossible to 
 giv.i an extended detail of the disastrous 
 scenes pertaining to each separate locality, 
 although some of the incidents and items 
 of the gale's destructive effects deserve to 
 be cited for their very marvelousness. 
 Mention has already been made of the 
 devastation in Dorchester, near Boston, 
 unparalleled since its settlement, result- 
 ing in seventeen houses being unroofed, 
 sixty chimneys prostrated, forty barns 
 demolished, and more than five thousand 
 trees destroyed. The number of buildings, 
 large and small, destroyed in Providence, 
 ivas estimated at five hundred, and about 
 fifty vessels wrecked. In many instances, 
 majestic oaks, which had braved the tem- 
 pests an hundred years or more, were 
 thrown down, or twisted into shreds ; and 
 in Danvers, Mass., the venerable pear tree, 
 imported and transplanted by Governor 
 Endicott, was made terrible havoc with. 
 In Chelsea, not far from Danvers, the 
 great Elm tree, seventeen feet in girth, 
 
 and which had a portico built upon its 
 limbs, capable of holding thirty persons, 
 was among the wrecked. In the little 
 town of Acton, about twenty miles from 
 Boston, the damage amounted to forty 
 thousand dollars. At Stonington, Conn., 
 the tide rose seventeen feet hit/her than 
 usual, all the vessels going ashore or sink- 
 ing, and all the wharves and many build- 
 ings being destroyed. The fate of one 
 citizen of this town was almost as disas- 
 trous as that of Job of yore : His house, 
 ropewalk, blacksmith's shop, and other 
 buildings, with all their contents, were 
 swept away, and, melancholy to relate, his 
 wife, daughter, wife's mother, and a 
 young lady visitor, all perished in the 
 billows. All along the New England 
 coast, and as far as New York, the damage 
 done to the shipping was immense, hun- 
 dreds of vessels with their cargoes being 
 wrecked ; and almost every seaport as well 
 as inland town suffering to some degree, 
 in many instances, almost irreparable, in 
 kind and extent. Innumerable churches 
 were wholly or partially ruined, and the 
 number of cattle killed was very great. 
 The gale was also severely felt by 
 vessels off Cape Hatteras, in the gulf 
 stream, off the capes of Delaware, at Sandy 
 Hook, Nantucket Shoals, Cape Ann, Cape 
 Henlopen, etc. 
 
 The course of the gale, as ascertained 
 from data procured from various points, 
 furnishes facts of peculiar meteorological 
 interest. Thus, in Philadelphia, there 
 was, during most of the night of the 
 twenty-second, a gale from the north-east, 
 with heavy rain. Early the next day, the 
 wind veered to the north-west, the gale 
 continuing, with torrents of rain, for sev- 
 eral hours. Between eight and nine 
 o'clock, the wind slackened, the rain 
 ceased, and clouds broke away in the west 
 and south. About noon, the weather was 
 clear and mild, with a gentle westerly 
 breeze. During the greater part of- the 
 afternoon, the sun was obscured with fly- 
 ing clouds from the west and north-west. 
 
 In New York, a violent north-east storm 
 of wind and rain commenced at night, on 
 
182 
 
 THE EVER-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 the twenty-first ; about two o'clock, the 
 wind suddenly shifted to the north and 
 north-west, blowing with increased vio- 
 lence. On the twenty-second, there was a 
 gale all day, from the north-east and east, 
 with heavy and incessant rain. The gale 
 increased in the evening, continuing until 
 four o'clock the next afternoon, though 
 most violent at nine o'clock the same fore- 
 noon, the wind being north to north-west. 
 At New London, Connecticut, the storm 
 commenced on Friday, the twenty-second, 
 a heavy rain falling during that day and 
 night, the wind north-east. Next morn- 
 ing, the twenty-third, the wind became 
 very violent, and soon after almost a hur- 
 ricane. The tide, which commenced flood 
 about six o'clock, had, by ten, risen three 
 or four feet higher than was ever known 
 before. The rise was so rapid, too, that 
 some of the dwellings were deluged before 
 the inhabitants knew of their danger, and 
 not more than thirty minutes elapsed after 
 they thus realized their peril, before the 
 waves rose four to six feet in the streets ! 
 Stores were soon seen falling before the 
 terrible power of the tempest, buildings 
 were unroofed, giant trees fell. But this 
 awful scene of destruction was short. 
 Soon after eleven o'clock, the wind shifted 
 to the westward and abated ; the sea 
 returned with the velocity it came in, 
 though it should have run flood until 
 twelve ; and the storm ceased. The show- 
 ers which fell over the city and neighbor- 
 hood were of salt water ; and the leaves of 
 the tender fruit-trees and shrubs and of 
 many forest trees, without frost, shrunk in 
 a few hours after the gale as though they 
 had been scorched. Brooks and wells in 
 the town and neighborhood became brack- 
 ish ; and during the strength of the wind, 
 in the eddies, the air was extremely hot 
 and suffocating. 
 
 Far into the interior, the tempest swept 
 and raged with unparalleled fury. Early 
 on Saturday morning, the wind became 
 rery violent, and torrents of rain descended, 
 continuing with but short intermissions 
 until about half-past ten in the forenoon ; 
 at this time, the rain abated, and the wind, 
 
 suddenly shifting to the south-east, blew a 
 hurricane, the terrible devastation of which 
 covered a column or area of sixty miles in 
 width. A suffocating current of air as, 
 from a hot bath, accompanied the middle 
 stage of the tempest. Flocks of gulls, 
 from the far-off ocean, were seen after the 
 storm in the Worcester meadows, and, as 
 evening approached, they flew toward the 
 sea. 
 
 Along the seaboard, the effect of the 
 tide upon the soil and its productions was 
 very marked. Grass was entirely killed. 
 There was not a green blade to be seen, in 
 any place, over which the flood had passed. 
 In a few spots, near running springs, some 
 new shoots appeared in the course of the 
 autumn ; but on uplands, none grew until 
 another season, and then it was not the 
 same kind of grass which grew there 
 before, excepting in a very few instances. 
 Several cedar-swamps were filled with sea 
 water, which, having no outlet, soaked 
 into the ground. The trees in these 
 swamps perished forthwith, the leaves 
 withering and falling off in a very short 
 time. In the trees cut from these swamps 
 during the winter following the storm, the 
 sap-wood had turned nearly black; and 
 there was scarcely an instance in which a 
 cedar-tree survived the effect of the flood. 
 Pine and oak trees suffered a similar fate, 
 excepting a very few, which stood near 
 the shore, these latter, perhaps, having 
 grown accustomed to the influence of salt 
 water, and could better endure the ordeal, 
 though a very great proportion even of 
 these perished in a short time. Most of 
 the shrubs and bushes, over which the tide 
 passed, perished similarly. It was ob- 
 served, however, that one or two species 
 of laurel, and the common bayberry, were 
 but little if at all injured, and some of 
 the swamp whortleberry-bushes survived. 
 Apple trees were, generally, on such high 
 ground, that the tide did not reach them ; 
 only a few were surrounded by the water, 
 and none of them were so situated that the 
 water could remain about them for any 
 length of time. They were, nevertheless, 
 as much exposed as many of the cedars 
 
THE EVER-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 183 
 
 which died; but the apple trees continued 
 to live, though considerably stinted in 
 their growth. With these exceptions, the 
 destruction of vegetable life in localities of 
 this exposure, was very general, if not 
 universal. 
 
 Wherever the cultivated lands were in 
 low places near the shore, they were of 
 course overflowed. In fields where Indian 
 corn was standing, the roots were, in most 
 cases, torn out of the ground ; and where 
 this did not take place, the stalks were 
 wrenched and twisted, and the spikes 
 broken off. The corn, where it had pre- 
 viously grown hard or ripe,, was fit for 
 food, but where the grain had not already 
 hardened, it failed to do so, and either per- 
 ished in the husk, or very soon after it 
 was taken out. It was a common remark, 
 that no part of the plant could be dried by 
 any means, and therefore by far the 
 greater part of the harvest was lost, not 
 being yet ripe. Potatoes, and other 
 vegetable roots, if left in the ground, 
 perished ; but, where they had ripened, 
 and were taken up within a few days 
 after the flood, and well dried, they were 
 good. 
 
 which the tide water did not run, were so 
 infected with the taste and qualities of sea 
 water, as to be totally unfit for domestic 
 purposes. The inhabitants were obliged 
 therefore to transport this necessary article 
 for household uses, from a great distance ; 
 and travelers who needed it were glad to 
 receive it in a measure of the smallest 
 capacity. In some wells near the shore, 
 the water formerly rose and fell with the 
 tide, still remaining fresh ; but the severe 
 and peculiar discipline of this flood so 
 changed their habit, that the water in 
 them became of a fixed height, and saltish. 
 When the vast and tremendous tide was 
 sweeping over the land, the spray arising 
 from it was very great, over a wide surface 
 of country, extending to the furthermost 
 of the interior of the northern states. It 
 is spoken of as having resembled a driving 
 snoiv-storm, through which objects could 
 be discerned only at short distances. In 
 the more northerly regions, it was observed, 
 immediately after the storm, that a singu- 
 lar effect had been produced upon the 
 leaves of the trees by the spray; their 
 vitality was destroyed, and they exhibited 
 an appearance similar to that which 
 
 HORRORS OF THE WHIRLWIND THROUGHOUT NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 Fresh water, along the seaboard, was, 
 for a long time, a rarity of price, the wells 
 having been generally overflown and left 
 full of sea water. Watering-places for 
 cattle suffered a similar fate ; and so 
 extensive was the influence of the flood, 
 that many wells, pools and streams, into 
 
 accompanies frost, except that they 
 retained more of their original color, and 
 in some instances they assumed a dark 
 red hue, as if they had been well scorched. 
 But in other sections along the shore, the 
 leaves did not exhibit this peculiar dis- 
 coloration ; those which were destroyed by 
 
184 
 
 THE EVEK-MEMORABLE GALE. 
 
 the flood, bore every mark of death, but 
 not of having been burnt, neither was 
 there any thin coating of salt on the win- 
 dows in these regions, as on those in the 
 neighborhood of Boston and elsewhere. 
 
 In multitudes of instances, the saltness 
 of the wells and watering-places continued 
 unabated for six months, or until the first 
 week of the following March. The winter 
 had been severe, and the ground frozen 
 very deep until the middle of February, 
 when there were several weeks of moderate 
 weather, with soft rains, which dissolved 
 the snows and opened the ground ; shortly 
 after which, it was discovered that several 
 of the wells and ponds were fi">sh. As 
 the water in these had been tasted but a 
 few days previously and was found still to 
 retain its disagreeableness, the freshness 
 must have taken place suddenly. After 
 successive spells of dry weather, these 
 wells grew salt again, but not to the same 
 degree as before ; and, on the other hand, 
 they would be fresh, after heavy rains, and 
 then become salt again after dry weather, 
 the degree of saltness diminishing from 
 time to time. This peculiarity continued 
 for several years, in some localities, being, 
 of course, a great inconvenience to man 
 and beast. 
 
 The center or the limits of this great 
 and memorable tempest, scientific investi- 
 gators were unable to determine. It was 
 very violent at places separated by a con- 
 siderable interval from each other; while 
 the intermediate region suffered much less. 
 Its course through forests was, in some 
 instances, marked almost as definitely, as 
 where the trees have been newly cut down 
 for a road. In these cases, it appears to 
 have been a moving vortex, and not the 
 rushing forward of the great body of the 
 atmosphere. There seems to have been 
 no part of the coast of New England which 
 escaped its fury, though in Vermont and 
 " the western parts of New. Hampshire its 
 severity was much less ; yet still further 
 west, on the St. Lawrence, the gale was so 
 great as to render it extremely dangerous 
 to be upon the river. And what is still 
 more remarkable, the storm began to grow 
 
 violent at this place about the same time 
 that it commenced near the Atlantic, and 
 subsided about the same time. 
 
 As to the direction of the wind, at the 
 several places where the storm prevailed, 
 Professor Farrar's account states, that, on 
 the twenty-second, the wind was pretty 
 generally from the north-east. The stom 
 commenced to the leeward ; but when the 
 wind shifted from north-east to east and 
 south, along the coast of New England, it 
 veered round in the opposite direction at 
 New York, and at an earlier period. It 
 reached its greatest height at this latter 
 place about nine o'clock on the morning of 
 the twenty-third, when it was from the 
 north-west ; whereas, at Boston, it became 
 most violent and devastating about two 
 hours later, and blew from the opposite 
 quarter of the heavens. At Montreal, the 
 direction of the wind was the same as at 
 New York, but did not attain its greatest 
 height so soon by several hours. The 
 barometer descended very fast during the 
 morning of the twenty-third, and, when 
 the wind was highest, had fallen about 
 half an inch. It began to rise as the wind 
 abated, and recovered its former elevation 
 by the time the air was restored to its 
 usual tranquillity. 
 
 According to the investigations made 
 by others, and 'the observations recorded 
 at the time, in different places, the follow- 
 ing facts are believed to be established, 
 namely : That the hurricane commenced 
 in the West Indies, and moved northward 
 at the rate of twelve or fifteen miles an 
 hour. Its course from St. Barts was about 
 west-north-west to Turks Island, and 
 thence to Boston nearly on the same 
 meridian it was a curve convex to the 
 west. Previous to the arrival of the hur- 
 riqane in New England, a north-east storm 
 had prevailed along the Atlantic coast for 
 more than twenty-four hours. For some 
 hours previous to the hurricane, there was 
 a great and rapid condensation of vapor, 
 producing a heavy fall of rain in the line 
 of the north-east storm. The hurricane, 
 or violent blow, was mostly from the south- 
 east, blowing into and at right angles to 
 
THE EVER-MEMOEABLE GALE. 
 
 185 
 
 the north-east storm, at its southern ter- 
 mination. As the south-east wind ap- 
 proached the line of the north-east storm, 
 it was deflected into an east wind. The 
 general form of the hurricane, in and ahout 
 New England, was that of an eccentric 
 ellipse, with its longest diameter north- 
 east and south-west ; wind blowing north- 
 east on the north-west side ; north-north- 
 west, and west-north-west, at its south 
 end ; south-east on its south-east side, 
 curving into an east wind at its junc- 
 tion with the north-east current ; wind 
 blowing from south at the easternmost 
 part of the hurricane. The whole body 
 of the hurricane, in the form thus 
 described, moved to the north nearly on 
 the meridian. 
 
 It is universally admitted, that there is 
 no account of a storm or gale in all respects 
 so remarkable in its phenomena as this, to 
 be found in the history of the United 
 States. Other hurricanes there have been, 
 laying waste whatever came in their way, 
 but they have been comparatively limited 
 in their extent and destructiveness. 
 Morton, in his New England Memorial, 
 gives a description of the violent tempest 
 that took place soon after the first settle- 
 ment at Plymouth. It began on the 
 morning of August fifteenth, 1635, very 
 suddenly, " blew down houses, uncovered 
 divers others, divers vessels were lost at 
 sea; it caused the sea to swell in some 
 places so that it arose to twenty foot right 
 up and down, and made many Indians to 
 climb into trees for their safety ; blew 
 down many hundred thousands of trees," 
 etc. The tremendous gales of 1723, 1804, 
 1818, 1821, 1836, 1841, 1851. 1859, 
 1860, 1869, and some others, will long 
 
 be remembered in certain localities, for 
 their severity and the loss of life 
 and property, on land and sea, which 
 attended them ; but neither the memory 
 of man, nor the annals of the country, 
 from its first settlement down to the 
 present time, furnish any parallel to 
 the peculiar character of the great gale 
 of September, 1815. 
 
 Of the storms and floods which occurred 
 during the last half of the century, those 
 of September and October, 1869, were per- 
 haps the most memorable. The devasta- 
 tion by the latter embraced the whole 
 country between the Nova Scotia coast and 
 the Mississippi, and from the north limits 
 of the Canadas to the cotton states. The 
 rain fell in torrents for about forty consec- 
 utive hours, the dense clouds descending 
 in vast sheets, and a moaning wind accom- 
 panying the powerful outpouring. A 
 stronger storm was beyond conception. In 
 some places, the rain-gauge showed that 
 four inches of rain fell in the course of 
 twenty-nine hours, and, during the suc- 
 ceeding six hours, 3.34 inches additional, 
 the total fall of water during the storm, 
 over a vast region of country, reaching the 
 enormous amount of 8.05 inches. The 
 resulting floods on all the streams were 
 beyond any ever recorded. The storm was 
 so sudden and unexpected, that no pre- 
 cautions could have been taken, and none 
 were. Railroads, telegraph wires, streets, 
 bridges, dams, manufactories, houses, lands, 
 crops, were utterly or partially ruined, 
 over a wide extent of country ; and such 
 an embargo on travel was never known 
 before. The pecuniary losses reached 
 millions of dollars, and many lives were 
 lost. 
 
XXIII. 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA, AS THE GUEST 
 OF THE REPUBLIC. 1824. 
 
 His Tour of Fire Thousand Miles Through the Twenty-Four States. A National Ovation on the 
 Grandest Scale. Cities, States, Legislatures and Governors, Vie in Their Demonstrations of Respect. 
 The Venerable Patriot Enters the Tomb and Stands Beside the Remains of His Great Departed 
 Friend, Washington. Noble Qualities of the Marquis. A Favorite of Louis XVI. Hears 
 of the Battle of Bunker Hill. Pleads the Cause of the Americans. Resolves to Join Their 
 Army Freely Consecrates His Vast Wealth. Equips a Vessel and Embarks Introduced to 
 General Washington Admiration of Him by the Chieftain. One of Washington's Military 
 Family. A Major-General in His Nineteenth Year. Heroic Fidelity During the War. Subse- 
 quent Vicissitudes in France. America's Heart-Felt Sympathy. He Leaves Havre for New York. 
 
 Enthusiasm Excit- 
 ed by His Pres- 
 ence. Incidents, 
 Interviews, Fetes. 
 Greetings with 
 Old Comrades. 
 Memories, Joys, 
 and Tears. De- 
 parts in the United 
 States Ship Lafay- 
 ette. His Death 
 in 1834. National 
 Grief. 
 
 THE LANDIXG OF LAFAYETTE AT NEW YOKK. 
 
 " Fortunate, fortunate mn ! 
 Heaven flaw tit to ordain that 
 the electric enark of liberty 
 should be conducted.through 
 
 , 
 
 the Old." JUiKllL 
 
 fayette 
 rld to 
 
 "WO names are most intimately and indissolubly associated with 
 the dramatic train of military events which led to the establish- 
 ment of the United States as a nation and government, namely, 
 those of WASHINGTON and LAFAYETTE. No two names are, 
 down to the present day, more fresh in the love and gratitude of the American people, 
 and, until time shall be no more, a test of the fidelity with which that people hold to 
 the principles of republican wisdom and virtue that gave them birth, will be their 
 admiration of the names of those patriots and heroes. To understand, therefore. 
 the significance of that spontaneous outburst of popular enthusiasm which greeted 
 Lafayette on his visit to America in 1824, and which made that year one of the most 
 
VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 187 
 
 memorable in the nation's history, it will 
 only be necessary to glance at the services, 
 military and civil, rendered us by this 
 large-hearted patriot, during the opening 
 years of our national existence. Those 
 services and that reception form, indeed, a 
 national romance. 
 
 When only thirteen years of age, Lafay- 
 ette was left an orphan, and in full posses- 
 sion of valuable estates, and master of his 
 own affairs. Being for a time at the col- 
 lege in Paris, his associations brought him 
 into notice at the court of King Louis, and 
 he became quite a favorite with that mon- 
 arch. He was appointed one of the 
 queen's pages, and through her agency 
 received a commission at the early age of 
 fifteen. He formed an early attachment 
 to a daughter of the noble family of 
 Noailles, with whom he was united in 
 marriage at the age of sixteen. Adopting 
 the profession of a soldier, Lafayette, at 
 nineteen, was stationed, as captain of dra- 
 goons, at Metz, one of the garrisoned 
 towns of France. Here, in 1776, Lafay- 
 ette's attention was directed to the conflict 
 of liberty in America the hostilities 
 between Britain and her colonies ; and 
 while in conversation with the Duke of 
 Gloucester, brother to George the Third, of 
 England, he elicited facts that led him to 
 see the whole merits of the case. The 
 battle of Bunker Hill and the Declaration 
 of Independence fired his heart ! Before 
 rising from the dinner-table at which this 
 interview occurred, Lafayette had resolved 
 to leave his home, and offer himself and 
 his services to the rising republic, whose 
 cause he regarded as just and noble. From 
 that hour he could think of nothing but 
 this chivalrous enterprise, though aware 
 that it would cut him off from the favor 
 of that brilliant court-circle in which he 
 shone so conspicuously, and that he would 
 also have to tear himself away from his 
 young, beautiful, and fondly attached 
 wife, who alone, among all his associates, 
 approved of his intention. 
 
 Proceeding to Paris, he confided his 
 scheme to two young friends, Count Segur 
 and Viscount Noailles, and proposed that 
 
 they should join him. They entered with 
 enthusiasm into his views, but, owing to 
 obstacles put in their way through family 
 interference, they were prevented from 
 following out their course, but faithfully 
 kept their comrade's secret. He next 
 explained his intention to Count Broglie, 
 who advised him to abandon it at once as 
 in the highest degree chimerical and haz- 
 ardous. The count assured him that his 
 confidence was not misplaced; but, said 
 he 
 
 " I have seen your uncle die in the wars 
 of Italy, I witnessed your father's death at 
 the battle of Minden, and I will not be 
 accessory to the ruin of the only remaining 
 branch of the family." 
 
 But, so far from being disheartened by 
 the unpromising reception which Lafay- 
 ette's plan met with from those to whom 
 he made known Tiis purposes, his ardor 
 was rather increased in the pursuit of his 
 object. " My zeal and love of liberty," 
 said he, "have perhaps been hitherto the 
 prevailing motives ; but now I see a 
 chance for usefulness, which I had not 
 anticipated. I have money; I will pur- 
 chase a ship, which shall convey to Amer- 
 ica myself, my companions, and the freight 
 for congress." All this, as the sequel will 
 show, he nobly and self-sacrificingly car- 
 ried out. 
 
 This design was now made known by 
 Lafayette to Messrs. Franklin, Lee, and 
 Deane, the American commissioners at 
 Paris ; and to a proposal so disinterested 
 and generous they could, of course, make 
 no objection, could only admire, indeed, 
 the spirit which actuated it ; and he hast- 
 ened immediately to put it into execution. 
 After surmounting the many difficulties 
 which from time to time interrupted the 
 progress of his plans, he at last set sail, 
 the Baron de Kalb and eleven other offi- 
 cers of various ranks, in pursuit of em- 
 ployment in the American army, consti- 
 tuting his retinue. In due time they 
 approached the shore near Georgetown, 
 South Carolina, having fortunately escaped 
 two British cruisers, and soon proceeded 
 to Charleston harbor, where a magnificent 
 
188 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 reception was given them. The vessel 
 was subsequently loaded with rice for the 
 French market, but it foundered in going 
 out of the harbor, and both the vessel and 
 the cargo became a total loss. 
 
 But Lafayette had not yet reached his 
 destination. As soon, however, as all 
 things were in readiness, the party left 
 Charleston and traveled to Philadelphia, 
 where congress was then sitting. On 
 arriving there, he put his letters into tho 
 hands of Mr. Lovell, chairman of the com- 
 mittee on foreign affairs. He called the 
 next day at the hall of congress, and Mr. 
 Lovell came out to him and said, that so 
 many foreigners had offered themselves for 
 employment, that congress was embar- 
 rassed with their application, and he was 
 sorry to inform him there was very little 
 hope of his success. Lafayette suspected 
 that his papers had not been read, and he 
 
 immediately sat down and wrote a note to 
 the president of congress, in which he 
 desired to be permitted to serve in the 
 American army on two conditions : first, 
 that he should receive no pay; second, 
 that he should act as a volunteer. These 
 terms were so different from those de- 
 manded by other foreigners, and presented 
 so few obstacles on the ground of any 
 interference with American officers, that 
 they were at once accepted. His rank, 
 
 real, perseverance, and disinterestedness, 
 overcame every objection, and he was 
 appointed a major-general in the American 
 army before he had reached the age of 
 twenty. 
 
 But'he was yet to stand before the face 
 of the great American chieftain. Wash- 
 ington was at head-quarters when Lafay- 
 ette reached Philadelphia, but, being daily 
 expected in the city, the young general 
 concluded to wait his arrival, instead of 
 presenting himself at carnp. The intro- 
 duction of the youthful stranger to the 
 man on whom his career depended was, 
 however, delayed only a few days. It 
 took place in a manner peculiarly marked 
 with the circumspection of Washington, 
 at a dinner-party, where Lafayette was 
 one among several guests of consideration. 
 Washington was not uninformed of the 
 circumstances connected with Lafayette's 
 arrival in this country ; and it may well 
 be supposed that the eye of the father of 
 his country was not idle during the re- 
 past. But that searching glance, before 
 which pretense or fraud never stood 
 undetected, was completely satisfied. 
 When they were about to separate, 
 Washington took Lafayette aside, spoke 
 to him with kindness, complimented 
 him upon the noble spirit he had shown 
 and the sacrifices he had made in favor 
 of the American cause, and then told 
 him that he should be pleased if he 
 would make the quarters of the com- 
 mander-in-chief his home, establish him- 
 self there whenever he thought proper, 
 and consider himself at all times as one 
 of his family, adding, in a tone of pleas- 
 antry, that he could not promise him the 
 luxuries of a court, or even the con- 
 veniences which his former habits might 
 have rendered essential to his comfort, but, 
 since he had become an American soldier 
 he would doubtless contrive to accommo- 
 date himself to the customs, manners and 
 privations of a republican army. Such 
 was the reception given to Lafayette, by 
 the most sagacious and observant of men ; 
 and the personal acquaintance, thus com- 
 menced; ripened into an intimacy; a con- 
 
VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 189 
 
 fidence, and an affection without bounds, 
 and never for one moment interrupted. If 
 there lived a man whom Washington 
 loved and admired, it was Lafayette. 
 
 Gloriously did Lafayette fulfill, in his 
 military career, the high hopes which 
 swelled the hearts of American patriots, in 
 the heroic courage which he displayed at 
 Brandywine, where he received a ball m 
 his leg ; his success in Jersey, before he 
 had recovered from his wounds, in a battle 
 where he commanded militia against Brit- 
 ish grenadiers ; in the brilliant retreat, 
 by which he eluded a combined maneuver 
 of the whole British force ; by his great 
 services in the enterprise against Rhode 
 Island, and his successful movements 
 against Cornwallis; all these proofs of 
 his patriotism and military skill, together 
 with his warm and unsullied friendship 
 for Washington, through all the varying 
 fortunes of war, endeared him forever to 
 every American. 
 
 After the fall of Cornwallis, Lafayette 
 sailed for France, but revisited America 
 in 1784. He was received with enthusi- 
 asm wherever he went. Returning to 
 France, he found himself the object of 
 immense popularity, and took his seat with 
 the notables, convoked in 1787. In 1789, 
 he boldly proposed, in the national convo- 
 cation, the Declaration of Rights, which 
 he had brought from the free soil of Amer- 
 ica, as the preliminary of a constitution. 
 Proclamation of this world-renowned doc- 
 ument was made July 22, audit furnished 
 the French people with the metaphysical 
 reasons for the " sacred right of insurrec- 
 tion." Meanwhile the Bastile had been 
 taken, July 14, the national guard organ- 
 ized, and Lafayette appointed to the com- 
 mand. In this capacity he rode a white 
 charger, and shone the impersonation of 
 chivalry, and twice the royal family owed 
 their preservation to his address and cour- 
 age. When the popular enthusiasm lulled, 
 he returned to his native fields ; the 
 national guard, on his retirement, present- 
 ing him with a bust of Washington, and 
 a sword forged from the bolts of the Bas- 
 tile. Subsequently, having denounced the 
 
 bloodthirsty Jacobins, he was burned in 
 effigy by the sans-culottes of Paris, and, 
 fleeing from the guillotine which there 
 awaited him, he finally fell into the hands 
 of the Austrians, and was by them sub- 
 jected to a long and cruel imprisonment in 
 the fortress at Olmutz. His release, so 
 earnestly but unsuccessfully solicited by 
 Washington, was peremptorily demanded 
 by Napoleon, and obtained, in September, 
 1797. In the year 1818, he became a 
 member of the chamber of deputies, and, 
 resuming his career as an advocate of con- 
 stitutional principles, succeeded at last in 
 elevating Louis Philippe to the throne of 
 France. 
 
 By this time, Lafayette had grown old 
 in the services he had rendered to America 
 and France. Though his years were now 
 nearly three 1 score and ten, he could not 
 think of meeting death until he had once 
 more seen that land of liberty across the 
 wide Atlantic, which was as dear to him as 
 his native country. In its infancy, and 
 for its freedom, he had, fifty years ago, 
 contributed his wealth and shed his blood, 
 sharing the bosom confidence of the great 
 Washington as did no other human being. 
 That struggling little republic had now 
 become a giant nation ; the thirteen states 
 constituting the original galaxy, had be- 
 come almost double that number, and vast 
 as the empires of antiquity in territory. 
 Remembering his magnificent services, in 
 1824 the congress of the United States 
 voted unanimously a resolution requesting 
 President Monroe to invite Lafayette to 
 visit the United States, as the nation's 
 guest, an honor never before accorded a 
 foreign nobleman, and tendering a ship 
 of the line for his conveyance. This invi- 
 tation was extended to the great French 
 patriot in President Monroe's most happj 
 manner, and was duly accepted, though 
 the offer of a war-ship was declined. 
 
 On the twelfth of July, 1824, Lafayette, 
 accompanied by his son, George Washing- 
 ton Lafayette, and his secretary, M. Levas- 
 seur, sailed from Havre for America. He 
 arrived in New York, August fifteenth, 
 and landed 011 Staten Island. One of the 
 
190 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 first to greet him was Joseph Bonaparte, 
 brother of the great Napoleon. Joseph 
 then resided at Bordentown, New Jersey ; 
 
 WO1D OF HONOR VRE9EJJTED TO LAFAYETTE. 
 
 he had always cherished a high regard for 
 the Marquis, and greatly valued his 
 friendship. The interview between the 
 two was attended with the warmest emo- 
 tions ; and whoever has seen Sully's por- 
 trait of the great French patriot can form 
 some adequate conception of the chieftain's 
 magnificent bearing on this occasion. 
 
 The announcement of his arrival sent a 
 thrill of joy to every American heart and 
 home, and the great pageant of his recep- 
 tion commenced in the city where he first 
 set foot forty years before. As the fleet 
 arrived off the battery at New York, a mili- 
 tary line composed of thousands of veter- 
 ans was formed, and the people, crowding 
 the battery and all the adjacent streets, 
 swelled the throng to the number of forty 
 thousand. The patriot was deeply affected 
 when he exchanged congratulations with 
 his old companions and friends. Shout 
 after shout went up in long and loud 
 acclaim, while the Lands oi music p.'ayfiJ 
 a triumphant welcome to the hero. His 
 stay in the city was one unbroken succes- 
 
 sion of high honors and civic laudation, 
 such as kings might envy ; at Albany, he 
 was received by Vice-Presideut Tonipkins. 
 On proceeding to New England, the same 
 enthusiasm was exhibited in every city, 
 town, and village. From the residence of 
 Hon. William Eustis, the governor oi 
 Massachusetts, in Roxbury, he was es- 
 corted by a large cavalcade and almost the 
 entire population, to Boston, where a 
 dense assemblage awaited his appearance. 
 Arriving at the line, he was greeted by 
 the mayor of the city and the people, 
 through whom he passed in a superb car- 
 riage, under deafening cheers. The streets 
 were lined with spectators to the entrance 
 of the beautiful common. There, the 
 children of the public schools formed two 
 lines, the girls being dressed in spotless 
 white, and the boys' in white pants and 
 blue jackets, and all wearing appropriate 
 badges. A little girl sprang forward from 
 the line as Lafayette was passing, and, at 
 her request to speak to him, was lifted 
 into the carriage, when she gracefully pre- 
 sented him with a wreath of flowers, which 
 the venerable hero received with affecting 
 courtesy. While going from town to town, 
 be found in every place some of the 
 descendants of 1776, ready to give him 
 the heartiest of welcomes. Thus, when 
 visiting Marblehead, in Massachusetts, the 
 marquis manifested much curiosity at so 
 many ladies being mingled with the male 
 citizens, who had been deputed to receive 
 him. The spokesman of the occasion, 
 perceiving the pleasant surprise of the 
 marquis at this peculiar feature, said to 
 him 
 
 "These are the widows of those who 
 perished in the revolutionary war, and the 
 mothers of children for whose liberty you, 
 illustrious sir ! have contended in the field 
 of battle. They are now here in the 
 places of their husbands, many of whom 
 were once known to you." 
 
 It may here be remarked, that Marble- 
 head was the " banner town " for furnish- 
 ing soldiers, in the revolutionary war, 
 uiere being a larger proportion to the 
 whcle number c inhabitants from that 
 
VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 191 
 
 lovra than any other place in the United 
 States. The Britisli armed vessels hover- 
 ing on the coast destroyed the coasting 
 and fishing business, and thus the loss of 
 men in the war fell heavily upon the small 
 seaport towns ; for, heing out of employ- 
 ment, nearly all the young and old men 
 shouldered their muskets and joined the 
 army. 
 
 At Philadelphia he was welcomed with 
 almost idolizing enthusiasm ; for tender 
 and thrilling indeed were the associations 
 which linked together the history of the 
 past and present of that city, in the person 
 and services of Lafayette ; the hospitali- 
 ties of the state were appropriately dis- 
 pensed by Governor Shultze. On landing 
 at Baltimore, he was conducted to the 
 ' tent of Washington,' and the freedom of 
 the state and city conferred upon him in 
 an address by Governor Stevens. For 
 some time Lafayette could not precisely 
 understand the compliment conveyed in 
 the selection of the tent especially one of 
 that construction for 
 such proceedings. It 
 was soon made plain, 
 however, for, glancing 
 around, he recognized 
 a portion of Washing- 
 
 LAFAYETTE'S RESIDENCE. 
 
 ton's personal equipage 
 during the war; and 
 turning to one near 
 
 him, he said, in a voice tremulous with emo- 
 tion, "/ remember!" Proceeding to 
 Washington, Lafayette was received with 
 open arms by President Monroe, at the 
 executive mansion. Congress had just 
 assembled in regular session, at the capitol. 
 He was introduced to both houses, and was 
 formally and elegantly addressed by Mr. 
 Clay, speaker of the house of representa- 
 tives, the two branches unanimously unit- 
 ing in their legislative honors to the 
 nation's guest. At this session the sum 
 of two hundred thousand dollars, together 
 with a township, consisting of twenty- 
 four thousand acres of fertile land, was 
 voted by congress to General Lafayette, as 
 an expression of the grateful memory with 
 which the people of America regarded his 
 services in their behalf. A few of the 
 members felt themselves constrained, from 
 some doubts respecting its constitution- 
 ality, to vote against this appropriation. 
 Lafayette, taking one of them by the 
 hand, said to him with considerable feel- 
 ing: 
 
 " I appreciate your views. If I had 
 been a member, I should have voted with 
 you, not only because I partake of the sen- 
 timents which determined your votes, but 
 also because I think that the American 
 nation has done too much for me." 
 Most characteristic of Lafayette's 
 disinterestedness and magnanim- 
 ity was that remark ! 
 
 At this time, Governor Pleas- 
 ant was chief magistrate of the 
 ' Old Dominion,' and warmly wel- 
 comed the na- 
 tion's guest. The 
 emotions experi- 
 enced by Lafay- 
 ette, as he once 
 more trod the bat- 
 tle-fields of Vir- 
 ginia, can of 
 course hardly be 
 described. York 
 town, distinguish- 
 surrender of Cornwallis, 
 gave the finishing blow 
 presented a vast field 
 
 ed for the 
 which event 
 to the war. 
 
192 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 of tents at the reception of Lafayette. 
 The same house occupied by Cornwallis, as 
 his head-quarters in 1781, was still stand- 
 ing. The general appearance of the place 
 gave evidence of a deserted village. The 
 houses of yore, which had been riddled 
 with balls and blackened with smoke, still 
 retained the marks of battle. In many 
 parts of the ground were seen broken 
 shells, and gun-carriages, with various 
 implements of war, some on rocks, and 
 others half buried in the earth ; every 
 arrangement having been made to give the 
 town, on Lafayette's arrival, the appear- 
 ance of a place taken and occupied after a 
 severe contest in battle. One of the tents 
 erected on this occasion, was the one used 
 by Washington at the time of the siege, 
 together with others which had furnished 
 temporary apartments for weary soldiers 
 during the eventful campaign. An arch, 
 bearing the names of Lafayette, Hamilton, 
 and Laurens, was erected on the very spot 
 where the redoubt stood which was stormed 
 by Lafayette ; an obelisk was also erected, 
 bearing the names of distinguished French- 
 men. And on the same spot it is said 
 that the orator of the occasion was design- 
 ing, at the close of his address, to place a 
 blended civic crown and national wreath 
 in honor of Lafayette, who, while he 
 acknowledged the unique compliment, 
 gracefully averted its consummation, and, 
 taking the symbolic garland in his hand, 
 called for Colonel Fish, the only survivor 
 of the attack upon the redoubt, and 
 declared that half the honor belonged to 
 him. Washington's marquee was erected 
 on the plain, just out of the village. Be- 
 ing escorted to this tent, Lafayette gave 
 an affecting welcome to the officers of the 
 militia. Two old veterans were there, who 
 had faced the enemy in war, and stood firm 
 in the midst of the roar of the cannon ; 
 but as they pressed the hand of Lafayette 
 on this occasion, the old heroes wept and 
 fainted. Some of the servants who were 
 present discovered in an obscure corner of 
 a cellar a large box of candles, bearing 
 marks of belonging to Cornwallis's military 
 stores having remained undisturbed for 
 
 forty-three years. They were lighted for 
 the evening, and notwithstanding the 
 fatigues of the day, some of the old soldiers 
 remained till the last vestige of these Brit- 
 ish candles had expired in the sockets. 
 
 Taking Camden, South Carolina Gov- 
 ernor Richard J. Manning, in his tour, 
 Lafayette assisted in laying the corner- 
 stone of a monument erected to the name 
 and memory of Baron de Kalb, a German 
 by birth, who came over in the same vessel 
 with Lafayette, in 1776, and volunteered 
 his services in the American army for 
 three years. He fell while bravely en- 
 gaged in the battle at Camden, pierced 
 with eleven deadly wounds. It is said 
 that Washington, visiting the baron's 
 grave many years after his death, sighed 
 as he looked upon it, and exclaimed, 
 " There lies the brave De Kalb, the gener- 
 ous stranger, who came from a distant 
 land to fight our battles, and to water with 
 his blood the tree of Liberty. Would to 
 God he had lived to share with us in its 
 fruits ! " At Savannah, Georgia, after 
 being welcomed by Governor Troup, Lafay- 
 ette united in the same service commemor- 
 ative of Generals Greene and Pulaski. 
 On the seventeenth of June, Lafayette 
 witnessed the laying of the corner-stone of 
 Bunker Hill monument, at Charlestown, 
 Massachusetts ; he was the only surviving 
 major-general of the revolution who was 
 present at this ceremony. Colonel Francis 
 K. Huger participated in the patriotic 
 services the man who, when a lad, walked 
 with Lafayette over his father's grounds, 
 and who, some thirty years before this 
 seventeenth of June, risked his life in 
 attempting to aid the escape of Lafayette 
 from the castle of Olmutz. The people of 
 Charlestown not only welcomed Huger, 
 but gave him a seat by the side of Lafay- 
 ette, in the carriage which moved in the 
 procession, and also one near him at the 
 festive board. Daniel Webster was the 
 orator for the day ; it was the fiftieth anni- 
 versary of the battle ; and everything con- 
 spired to render the day memorable. As 
 the procession passed, Lafayette was con- 
 tinually hailed with demonstrations of love 
 
VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMEKICA. 
 
 193 
 
 and gratitude. The procession was sev- 
 eral miles long, and, on arriving at the his- 
 toric spot, the impressive rite of laying the 
 corner-stone was performed by the grand 
 master of the Freemasons, the president of 
 
 the Monument Association, and General 
 Lafayette, in the presence of a vast con- 
 course of people. The assembly then 
 moved to a spacious amphitheatre, where 
 the oration was pronounced by Mr. Web- 
 ster, before as great a multitude as was 
 ever, perhaps, assembled within the sound 
 of a human voics. 
 
 There was one place Kaskaskia, on the 
 route of Lafayette's tour, at which, though 
 no preparations had been made to receive 
 him, he paused a short time; and here it 
 was that a most affecting incident oc- 
 curred. Curiosity induced one of his com- 
 panions to go and look at an Indian 
 encampment, a short distance from the 
 town. lie there met with an educated 
 Indian woman, who spoke the French lan- 
 guage tolerably well, and who expressed a 
 desire to see Lafayette, and to show him a 
 relic which she always carried with her, 
 and which was "very dear to her." She 
 wished to show it to Lafayette, as proof of 
 the veneration with which his name was 
 regarded among their tribes. It was a 
 letter written by Lafayette in 1778, and 
 addressed to her father, Panisciowa, a 
 13 
 
 chief of one of the six nations. This letter 
 expressed the hearty thanks of Lafayette 
 for the faithful services of that chief in the 
 American cause. The name of this only 
 child of the old chief was Mary, who, at 
 the decease of her mother, was 
 placed under the care of an 
 American agent, by whom she 
 was instructed and kindly treat- 
 ed. She became a Christian. As 
 she was walking out in the for- 
 est, about five 
 years after, an 
 Indian warrior 
 overtook her and 
 informed her that 
 her father was dy- 
 ing, and wished 
 to see her. She 
 soon started off, 
 traveled all night, 
 and in the morn- 
 ing reached his 
 hut, which was 
 situated in a narrow valley. As she came to 
 his bedside, he took from his pouch a paper 
 wrapped in a dry skin, and gave it to her, 
 with a charge to preserve it as a precious 
 gift, saying : " It is a powerful charm to 
 interest the pale-faces in your favor. I 
 received it from a great French warrior, 
 whom the English dreaded as much as the 
 Americans loved him, and with whom I 
 fought in my youth." The chief died the 
 next day. Mary returned to her white 
 friends, and soon after married the young 
 warrior, who was her father's friend and 
 companion. She liad the pleasure of 
 showing the letter to Lafayette, who rec- 
 ognized it, and listened with great respect 
 and deep feeling to her touching story. 
 
 Another most interestingepisode was that 
 which transpired at Lafayette's reception 
 in Nashville, Tenn., Governor Carroll pre- 
 siding at the state ceremonies. There had 
 come from different parts of the country 
 about forty officers and soldiers of the rev- 
 olution. Among the number was an aged 
 man who had traveled one hundred and 
 fifty miles. His name was Haguy, a 
 German, and he was one of those who 
 
 I 
 
194 
 
 VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 embarked in the same vessel with Lafay- 
 ette for this country, nearly fifty years 
 back, and served under him during the 
 whole war. The old veteran, clasping 
 Lafayette's hand with affectionate 
 warmth, the tears rolling down his 
 cheeks, said : 
 
 "I have come many miles to see the 
 'young general.' I have had two happy 
 days in my life one, when I landed with 
 you on the American coast, nearly fifty 
 years ago, and to-day when I see your face 
 again. I have lived long enough." The 
 sensation produced by this scene, in that 
 great throng, was for a time completely 
 overpowering. 
 
 Not less interesting was the interview, 
 at Buffalo, between Lafayette and 'Red 
 Jacket,' the old chief of the Seneca tribe 
 of Indians. They had both met in council 
 at Fort Schuyler, in 1784. Red Jacket, 
 in conversation with General Lafayette, 
 made some allusions to that famous coun- 
 cil, and to those who participated in its 
 proceedings, when Lafayette inquired with 
 some curiosity 
 
 "Where is the young warrior, I wonder, 
 who opposed the burying of the toma- 
 hawk?" 
 
 "He is here before you," instantly re- 
 plied the aged chief. 
 
 " Ah, I see," replied the general, " time 
 has changed us. We were once young 
 and active." 
 
 " But," said the chief, " time has made 
 less change on you than on me." 
 
 Saying this he uncovered his head, and 
 exhibited his entire baldness. The gen- 
 eral wore a wig, and, not wishing to 
 deceive Red Jacket, took it from his head, 
 to the no small amusement of the aston- 
 ished Indian. 
 
 A visit to the tomb of Washington was 
 one of the most notable events in Lafay- 
 ette's tour. His arrival there was an- 
 nounced by the firing of cannon, which 
 brought to his memory the din of war, 
 the scenes of the revolution, when he, 
 with the great but now lifeless chieftain, 
 were si'Je by side in battle. Standing for 
 awhil* upon the consecrated ground and 
 
 amidst the solemn stillness of the place, 
 he descended alone into the tomb with his 
 head uncovered. There he remained in 
 solitary contemplation for some time the 
 living aged veteran communing with the 
 illustrious dead. He returned with his 
 face bathed in tears, and, taking his son 
 and Levasseur, the secretary, by the hand, 
 led them into the tomb. He could not 
 speak, but pointed mutely to the coffin of 
 Washington. They knelt reverently by 
 it, kissed it, and, rising, threw themselves 
 into the arms of Lafayette, and for a few 
 moments wept in silence. Lafayette was 
 now presented, by the hand of Mr. Custis, 
 one of the surviving family connections of 
 Washington, with a massive finger-ring 
 containing a portion of the hair of his 
 departed friend. He was also the recipi- 
 ent of some other personal memorials of 
 the "Father of his Country." 
 
 During this tour Lafayette visited every 
 one of the twenty-four states of the Union, 
 and traveled over five thousand miles. In 
 nearly every region which he visited, 
 towns or counties, and literary, scientific 
 or civic associations, named in honor of 
 him, still preserve his memory. Indeed, 
 one of the foremost of the great colleges of 
 the Middle states dates from the same 
 period. At Easton, in Pennsylvania, 
 the citizens convened on the 27th of 
 December, 1824, and resolved to estab- 
 lish LAFAYETTE COLLEGE, an eminent 
 institution of learning, in memory of 
 and "as a testimony of respect for the 
 talents, virtues and signal sevices, of 
 General Lafayette, in the great cause of 
 Freedom." 
 
 When the time which he had allotted 
 for his tour had expired, Lafayette re- 
 paired to Washington, to pay his parting 
 respects to the chief magistrate of the 
 nation, John Quincy Adams, who had suc- 
 ceeded President Monroe. This took 
 place at the presidential mansion, on the 
 sixth of September, 1825. The farewell 
 address from the president, in behalf of 
 the whole American people, was a most 
 affecting tribute to the lofty character and 
 patriotic services of Lafayette, during his 
 
VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. 
 
 195 
 
 long and eventful career, and closed with 
 the following words : 
 
 " You are ours by that unshaken senti- 
 ment of gratitude for your services which 
 is a precious portion of our inheritance ; 
 ours by that tie of love, stronger than 
 death, which has linked your name for the 
 endless ages of time with the name of 
 Washington. At the painful moment of 
 
 parting with you 
 we take comfort 
 in the thought 
 that, wherever you may be, to the last pul- 
 sation of your heart, our country will ever 
 be present to your affections ; and a cheer- 
 ing consolation assures us that we are not 
 
 called to sorrow most of all, that we 
 shall see your face no more, for we 
 shall indulge the pleasing anticipation 
 of beholding our friend again. In the 
 name of the whole people of the United 
 States, I bid you a reluctant and affec- 
 tionate farewell." 
 
 To this parting address from the lips of 
 the nation's distinguished chief magistrate, 
 Lafayette replied in a strain of patriotic 
 and impassioned eloquence never to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 On the same day he embarked for 
 France, on board the Brandywine, a new 
 frigate, named 
 thus in compli- 
 ment to Lafay- 
 ette, who, on the 
 banks of that riv- 
 er, was wounded 
 in his first battle 
 for American 
 freedom. In the 
 whole range of 
 history, ancient 
 or modern, there 
 is no instance of 
 
 similar honors being paid to any hero, by 
 the united and spontaneous will of a great 
 people ; and when, nine years after, he paid 
 the debt of nature, that same great people 
 gave vent to universal grief, and every 
 tongue spoke words of eulogy to the mem- 
 ory of America's most illustrious friend. 
 
XXIV. 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN HENRY CLAY, SECRETARY OF STATE, 
 AND JOHN RANDOLPH, UNITED STATES SENA- 
 TOR FROM VIRGINIA. 1826. 
 
 Randolph's Bitter Insult to Clay on the Floor of the Senate. Accuses Him of Falsifying an Official 
 Document. The Puritan and " Blackieg " Taunt. Clay Challenges the Senator to Mortal Com- 
 bat. Words and Acts of these Two Foremost Men of their Times, on the " Field of Honor." 
 Result of the Hostile Meeting. Fame of these Party Leaders. Ancient Political Antagonists. 
 Origin of the Present Dispute. Randolph's Gift of Sarcasm. Applies it Severely to Clay. Clay 
 Demands Satiifaction. Reconciliation Refused. Bladensburg the Dueling-Ground. Pistols the 
 Weapons Chosen. Colonel Benton a Mutual Friend. Incidents the Night Before. Randolph'i 
 Secret Resolve Going to the Field of Blood. View of this Shrine of " Chivalry." Salutations of 
 the Combatants. Solemn Interest of the, Scene. Distance Ten Paces. A Harmless Exchange of 
 Shots. Clay Calls it " Child's Play ! "Another Fire. No Injury." Honor " Satisfied. Pleasant 
 Talk with Each Other. 
 
 " I would not hare seen him Ml mortally, or even doubtfully, wounded, for all the land that i watered by the King of Floods aid all 
 fall tributary ttreamB." RANDOLPH TO BKHTON. 
 
 "I trust in Ood, my dear air, you are untouched i after what has occurred,! -would nothave harmed you for a thousand world*.'* 
 CLAT TO RANDOLPH 
 
 T would be needless, at this point of time, to recount 
 the circumstances of that long and bitter antago- 
 nism which characterized the relations, in political 
 life, between the renowned and eccentric John 
 Randolph and the equally famous and brilliant 
 Henry Clay. This antagonism, after the accession 
 to the department of state by Mr. Clay, under the 
 presidency of John Quincy Adams, acquired addi- 
 tional violence, and finally led to a hostile encoun- 
 ter, under the following circumstances : The presi- 
 ' dent had sent in a message to the senate, on the 
 subject of the Panama mission. A motion was made in the senate for a call upon the 
 president for further information. In response to this the president answered by a 
 message, with the tone of which Randolph was greatly displeased, and, in his place in 
 the senate, bitterly denounced it and its authors, President Adams and his secretary, 
 Mr. Clay. Alluding to one passage in particular, in the president's message, Randolph 
 was reported as saying : "Here I plant my foot; here I fling defiance right into his 
 teeth ; here I throw the gauntlet to him, and the bravest of his compeers, to come 
 forward and defend these lines." And he concluded his speech with the sentence : 
 
 PRELIMINARIES OF THE " CODE OF HOXOK. 
 
DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 197 
 
 "Iwas defeated, horse, foot, and dragoons 
 cut up, clean broke down by the coali- 
 tion of Blifll and Black George by the 
 combination unheard of till then, of the 
 Puritan with the Blackleg" But, what 
 was most pointed, perhaps, than anything 
 else, in this assault upon Mr. Clay's honor, 
 was Randolph's statement, " that a letter 
 from General Salazar, the Mexican min- 
 ister at Washington, submitted by the 
 executive to the senate, bore the ear-mark 
 of having been manufactured or forged by 
 the secretary of state." 
 
 Mr. Clay smarted under the stigma of 
 these charges. He demanded explana- 
 tions. These being refused, Clay at once 
 sent a challenge, which Randolph accepted. 
 The seconds, however, chosen by the dis- 
 tinguished principals, determined to at- 
 tempt an accommodation, or a peaceable 
 termination of the difficulty. But Ran- 
 dolph, though modifying the unrevised 
 and somewhat inaccurate report of his 
 speech which had gone forth, refused to 
 explain, out of the senate, the words he 
 had used within it. Clay was peremptory 
 with Randolph, on the point of honor, as 
 he had also been with Humphrey Mar- 
 shall, in 1808, whom the brilliant Ken- 
 tuckian challenged and fought. Though 
 bad enough, both personally and politically, 
 these duels of the great Kentuckian will 
 at least compare favorably with the later 
 duel between Graves of Kentucky, and 
 Cilley of Maine, in which Webb, the New 
 York journalist, bore so prominent a part. 
 
 It being certain that there was no hope 
 of reconciliation, the seconds proceeded to 
 arrange for the duel. The afternoon of 
 Saturday, April eighth, 1826, was fixed 
 upon for the time, the right bank of the 
 Potomac, within the state of Virginia, 
 above the Little Falls bridge, was the 
 place, pistols the weapons, distance ten 
 paces, each party to be attended by two 
 seconds and a surgeon, and Senator Ben- 
 ton to be present as a mutual friend. 
 There was to be no practicing with pistols, 
 and there was none ; and the words, ' One, 
 two, three, stop,' after the word ' Fire,' 
 were, by agreement between the seconds 
 
 and for the humane purpose of reducing 
 the result as near as possible to chance, to 
 be given out in quick succession. The 
 Virginia side of the Potomac was taken, 
 according to Mr. Benton's account of the 
 duel, at the instance of Mr. Randolph. 
 He went out as a Virginia senator, refus- 
 ing to compromise that character, and, if 
 he fell in defense of what he deemed to 
 be its rights, Virginia soil was to him the 
 chosen ground to receive his blood. There 
 was a statute of the state against dueling 
 within her limits ; but as he merely went 
 out to receive a fire without returning it 
 he deemed that no fighting, and conse- 
 quently no breach of her statute. 
 
 The week's delay, which the seconds 
 had contrived, was about expiring. It was 
 Friday night, when Mr. Benton went to 
 see Mr. Clay for the last time before the 
 duel. There had been some alienation 
 between the two since the time of the 
 presidential election in the house of repre- 
 sentatives, and the senator desired to show 
 Mr. Clay that there was nothing personal 
 in it. The family (says Mr. Benton) were 
 in the parlor, company present, and 
 some of it staid late. The youngest child 
 went to sleep on the sofa, a circumstance 
 which availed me for the next day. Mrs. 
 Clay was, as always after the death of her 
 daughters, the picture of desolation, but 
 calm, conversable, and without the slight- 
 est apparent consciousness of the impend- 
 ing event. When all were gone, and she 
 also had left the parlor, I did what I came 
 for, and said to Mr. Clay that, notwith- 
 standing our late political differences, my 
 personal feelings were the same towards 
 him as formerly, and that, in whatever 
 concerned his life or honor, my best wishes 
 were with him. He expressed his gratifi- 
 cation at the visit and the declaration, and 
 said it was what he would have expected 
 of me. We parted at midnight. 
 
 Mr. Benton's account continues as fol- 
 lows : Saturday, the 8th of April, 1826, 
 the day for the duel, had come, and 
 almost the hour. It was noon, and the 
 meeting was to take place at half-past four 
 o'clock. I had gone to see Mr. Randolph 
 
198 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 before the hour, and for a purpose. I had 
 heard nothing from him on the point of 
 not returning the fire, since the first com- 
 munication to that effect, eight days be- 
 fore. I had no reason to doubt the steadi- 
 ness of his determination ; but felt a 
 desire to have some fresh assurance of it 
 after so many days' delay, and so near 
 approach of the trying moment. I knew 
 it would not do to ask him the question, 
 any question that would imply a doubt of 
 his word. So I fell upon a scheme to get 
 at the inquiry without seeming to make 
 it. I told him of my visit to Mrs. Clay 
 the night before, of the late sitting, the 
 child asleep, the unconscious tranquillity 
 
 of Mrs. Clay ; and added, I could not help 
 reflecting how different all that might be 
 the next night. He understood me per- 
 fectly, and immediately said, with a 
 quietude of look and expression which 
 seemed to rebuke an unworthy doubt, 
 
 " I shall do nothing to disturb the sleep 
 of the child or the repose of the mother." 
 
 Mr. Randolph at the same time went 
 on with his employment his seconds 
 
 being engaged in their preparations in a 
 different room, which was, making codi- 
 cils to his will, all in the way of remem- 
 brance to friends ; the bequests slight in 
 value, but invaluable in tenderness of 
 feeling and beauty of expression, and 
 always appropriate to the receiver. To 
 Mr. Macon, he gave some English shil- 
 lings, to keep the game when he played 
 whist. His namesake, John Randolph 
 Bryan, then at school in Baltimore, and 
 afterwards married to his niece, was sent 
 for to see him, but sent off before the hour 
 for going out, to save the boy from a pos- 
 sible shock of seeing him brought back. 
 He wanted some gold, that coin not 
 being then in circulation, and only to be 
 obtained by favor or purchase, and sent 
 his faithful man, Johnny, to the United 
 States Branch Bank, to get a few pieces, 
 American being the kind asked for. 
 Johnny returned without the gold, and 
 delivered the excuse that the bank had 
 none. Instantly his clear silver-toned 
 voice was heard above its natural pitch, 
 exclaiming : " Their name is legion ! and 
 they are liars from the beginning. Johnny, 
 bring me my horse." His own saddle- 
 horse was brought him, for he never rode 
 Johnny's, nor Johnny his, though both, 
 and all his hundred horses, were of the 
 finest English blood ; and he rode off to 
 the bank, down Pennsylvania avenue, 
 Johnny following, as always, forty paces 
 behind. Arrived at the bank, the follow- 
 ing scene transpired. Mr. Randolph asked 
 for the state of his account, was shown it, 
 and found it to be some four thousand dol- 
 lars in his favor. He asked for it. The 
 teller took up packages of bills, and civilly 
 asked in what sized notes he would have 
 it. " I want money," said Mr. Randolph, 
 putting emphasis on the word ; and at that 
 time it required a bold man to intimate 
 that United States Bank notes were not 
 money. The teller, beginning to under- 
 stand him, and willing to make sure, said, 
 inquiringly : 
 
 "You want silver?" 
 
 " 1 want my money" was the reply. 
 
 "Have you a cart, Mr. Randolph, to 
 
DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND KANDOLPH. 
 
 199 
 
 put it in ? " said the teller, politely, lifting 
 boxes to the counter. 
 
 " That is my business, sir," answered 
 Randolph. 
 
 By this time, the attention of the cashier 
 was attracted to what was going on, who 
 came up, and, understanding the question 
 and its cause, told Mr. Randolph there 
 was a mistake in the answer given to his 
 servant ; that they had gold, and he should 
 have what he wanted. In fact, he had 
 only applied for a few pieces, which he 
 wanted for a special purpose. This brought 
 about a compromise. The pieces of gold 
 were received, the cart and the silver 
 dispensed with. 
 
 On returning, Randolph handed a sealed 
 paper to Mr. Benton, which the latter was 
 to open in case Randolph was killed, 
 give back to him if he was not ; also 
 an open slip, which that senator was to 
 read before he got to the ground. This 
 slip was a request to feel in his left 
 breeches' pocket, if he was killed, and find 
 so many pieces of gold, Mr. Benton to 
 take three for himself, and give the same 
 number to Tatnall and Hamilton each, to 
 make seals to wear in remembrance of him. 
 He also remembered his friend Macon. 
 They were all three at Mr. Randolph's 
 lodgings, then, and soon set out, Mr. 
 Randolph and his seconds in a carriage, 
 and Mr. Benton following him on horse- 
 back. 
 
 As has already been stated, the count 
 was to be quick after giving the word ' Fire,' 
 and for a reason which could not be told 
 to the principals. To Mr. Randolph, who 
 did not mean to fire, and who, though 
 agreeing to be shot at, had no desire to be 
 hit, this rapidity of counting out the time, 
 and quick arrival of the command ' Stop,' 
 presented no objection. With Mr. Clay 
 it was different. With him it was all a 
 real transaction, and gave rise to some 
 proposal for more deliberateness in count- 
 ing off the time, which being communicated 
 to Colonel Tatnall, (Randolph's friend,) 
 and by him to Mr. Randolph, had an ill 
 effect upon his feelings, and, aided by an 
 untoward accident on the ground, unset- 
 
 tled for a moment the noble determination 
 which he had formed not to fire at Mr. 
 Clay. General Jesup (Clay's friend,) 
 states, that, when he repeated to Mr. Clay 
 the 'word' in the manner in which it 
 would be given, Mr. Clay expressed some 
 apprehension that, as he was not accus- 
 tomed to the use of the pistol, he might 
 not be able to fire within the time, and 
 for that reason alone desired that it might 
 be prolonged. This desire of Mr. Clay 
 was mentioned, on his behalf, to Colonel 
 Tatnall, who replied, "If you insist upon 
 it, the time must be prolonged, but I should 
 very much regret it." The original agree- 
 ment was carried out. Mr. Benton, how- 
 ever, states that he himself knew nothing 
 of all this, until it was too late to speak 
 with the seconds or principals, he having 
 crossed the Little Falls bridge just after 
 them, and come to the place where the serv- 
 ants and carriages had stopped. He saw 
 none of the gentlemen, and supposed they 
 had all gone to the spot where the ground 
 was being marked off; but on speaking to 
 Johnny, Mr. Randolph, who was still in 
 his carriage, and heard the voice, looked 
 out from the window and said to Colonel 
 Benton 
 
 " Colonel, since I saw you, and since I 
 have been in this carriage, I have heard 
 something which may make me change 
 my determination. Colonel Hamilton will 
 give you a note which will explain it." 
 
 Colonel Hamilton was then in the car- 
 riage, and in the course of the evening 
 gave to Colonel Benton the note, of which 
 Mr. Randolph spoke. Colonel Benton 
 readily comprehended that this possible 
 change of determination related to Ran- 
 dolph's firing ; but the emphasis with 
 which he pronounced the word ' may' 
 clearly showed that his mind was unde- 
 cided, and left it doubtful whether he 
 would fire or not. No further conversa- 
 tion, however, took place between them 
 the preparations for the duel were finished 
 the parties went to their places. 
 
 The place was a thick forest, and the 
 immediate spot a little depression, or 
 basin, in which the parties stood. Not 
 
200 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 far west of Bladensburg, just beyond the 
 line which separates the federal city from 
 the state of Maryland, a short distance off 
 the road from Washington, is this dueling- 
 ground, a dingle, embosomed in a sun- 
 burnt amphitheatre of trees, secluded, and 
 from associations, no less than location, a 
 dismal shrine, consecrated to human sacri- 
 fices. On this spot, not long before the 
 battle of Bladenoburg in the second war 
 with England, a United States secretary 
 of the treasury shot his antagonist, Mr. 
 Gardenier, through the body, both mem- 
 bers of congress, in a party duel. Deca- 
 tur, surrounded by brother naval officers, 
 fell there. A senator of the United States 
 lost his life there, horribly fighting with 
 muskets at pistol distance. Other vic- 
 tims to the vanity of honor, so called, have 
 lost or staked their lives on this field of 
 blood. 
 
 But never before, on that fatal field, 
 was any scene enacted, comparable with 
 that which was to witness a mortal con- 
 test between Henry Clay and John Ran- 
 dolph. Not too highlj' lias the graphic 
 delineator of these dramatis personal (Mr. 
 Baldwin, in his "Party Leaders,") drawn 
 the picture, in saying that there stood on 
 the banks of the Potomac, on that bright 
 April evening, as the sun was declining 
 behind the high hills of Virginia, in the 
 attitude of combatants, two men, around 
 whom gathered, probably, a more stirring 
 interest, than around any other two men 
 in the Union. And yet, their political 
 opinions and personal history were as 
 opposite as their persons, when they stood 
 in their places. Against any and all 
 insinuations of corruption, Mr. Clay might 
 safely have left his reputation with the 
 people. His splendid services as peace 
 commissioner to Europe, with such col- 
 leagues as Bayard, Gallatin, Russell and 
 Adams ; his long period of statesman-like 
 service in the house of representatives, 
 succeeding repeatedly to the chair that 
 had been dignified by Muhlenberg, Trum- 
 bull, Dayton, Varnum, Cheves, and Bar- 
 bour, this his record should havo suf- 
 ficed for his honor. 
 
 The two were alike only in chivalry of 
 bearing, integrity and independence of 
 character, genius and pride. They had 
 to all appearance met now to fight to the 
 death with physical weapons, as they had 
 met so often before, to do battle with the 
 weapons of intellectual warfare. Their 
 opposition had been unceasing. Each 
 looked upon the other as, if not the ablest, 
 at least as the most annoying and dreaded 
 opponent of his political principles and 
 personal aims. They were, in early life, 
 and to some extent, still, representatives 
 
 of different phases of American society. 
 Randolph, born to affluence ; descended 
 from a long and honored line ; accustomed 
 always to wealth, family influence, and the 
 pride of aristocracy and official position. 
 Clay, on the other hand, born in obscurity, 
 of humble parentage the first man of his 
 family known out of his county "the 
 mill-boy of the Slashes ; " but winning 
 his way and rising rapidly, by his boldness 
 and talents, to the very summit of public 
 station and influence, so as to be styled 
 the "Great Commoner;" these were the 
 two men, alike in splendid gifts of intel- 
 lect, yet so unlike in character and circum- 
 stance, who now, weapon in hand, stood 
 opposed in deadly conflict. 
 
 As they took their stands, the princi- 
 
DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 201 
 
 pala saluted each other courteously, accord- 
 ing to the usage of the 'code.' Colonel 
 Tatnall had won the choice of position, 
 which gave to General Jesup the delivery 
 of the word. They stood on a line east 
 and west ; there was a small stump just 
 behind Mr. Clay, and a low gravelly bank 
 rose just behind Mr. Randolph. The 
 latter asked General Jesup to repeat the 
 word as he would give it ; and while in 
 the act of doing so, and Mr. Randolph 
 adjusting the butt of his pistol to his 
 hand, the muzzle pointing downwards, and 
 almost to the ground, it fired. Instantly 
 Mr. Randolph turned to Colonel Tatnall, 
 and said, " I protested against that hair 
 trigger." 
 
 Colonel Tatnall took blame to himself 
 for having sprung the hair. Mr. Clay 
 had not then received his pistol. Mr. 
 Johnson, one of his seconds, was carrying 
 it to him, and still several steps from him. 
 This untimely fire, though clearly an acci- 
 dent, necessarily gave rise to some re- 
 marks, and a species of inquiry, which 
 was conducted with the utmost delicacy, 
 but which, in itself, was of a nature to be 
 inexpressibly painful to a gentleman's 
 feelings. Mr. Clay stopped it with the 
 generous remark that the fire was clearly 
 an accident, and it was so unanimously 
 declared. Another pistol was immediately 
 furnished ; an exchange of shots took 
 place, and, happily, without effect upon 
 the persons. Mr. Randolph's bullet struck 
 the stump behind Mr. Clay, and Mr. Clay's 
 knocked up the earth and gravel behind 
 Mr. Randolph, and in a line with the level 
 of his hips, both bullets having gone so 
 true and close, that it was a marvel how 
 they missed. 
 
 The moment had now arrived when 
 Colonel Benton felt that he could inter- 
 pose. He accordingly went in among the 
 parties, and offered his mediation. Noth- 
 ing, however, could be done. Mr. Clay 
 said, with that wave of the hand with 
 which he was accustomed to put away a 
 trifle, " This is child's play ! " and required 
 another fire. Mr. Randolph also demanded 
 Another fire. The seconds were directed 
 
 to reload. While this was doing, Colonel 
 Benton prevailed on Mr. Randolph to 
 walk away from his post, and importuned 
 him, more pressingly than ever, to yield to 
 some accommodation. The colonel found 
 him, however, more determined than ever 
 before, and for the first time impatient, 
 and seemingly annoyed and dissatisfied at 
 such approaches. The accidental fire of 
 his pistol preyed upon his feelings. He 
 was doubly chagrined at it, both as a cir- 
 cumstance susceptible in itself of an unfair 
 interpretation, and as having been the 
 immediate and controlling cause of his fir- 
 ing at Mr. Clay. He regretted this fire 
 the instant it was over. He felt that it 
 had subjected him to imputations from 
 which he knew himself to be free, a 
 desire to kill Mr. Clay, and a contempt for 
 the laws of his state ; and the annoyances 
 which he felt at these vexatious circum- 
 stances revived his original determination, 
 and decided him irrevocably to carry it 
 out. 
 
 It was in this interval that Mr. Ran- 
 dolph told Colonel Benton what he had 
 heard since they parted, and to which he 
 alluded when speaking from the window 
 of the carriage. It was to this effect : 
 that he had been informed by Colonel 
 Tatnall, that it was proposed to give out 
 the words with more deliberateness, so as 
 to prolong the time for taking aim. This 
 information grated harshly upon his 
 feelings. It unsettled his purpose, 
 and brought his mind to the inquiry 
 expressed in the following note, which 
 he had immediately written in pencil, 
 to apprise Colonel Benton of his possible 
 change : 
 
 " Information received from Colonel 
 Tatnall since I got into the carriage may 
 induce me to change my mind of not 
 returning Mr. Clay's fire. I seek not his 
 death. I would not have his blood upon 
 my hands it will not be upon my soul if 
 shed in self-defense for the world. He 
 has determined, by the use of a long, pre- 
 paratory caution by wordsj to get time to 
 kill me. May I not, then, disable him ? 
 Yes, if I please." 
 
202 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 According to the statement of General 
 Jesup, already given, this ' information ' 
 was a misapprehension, Mr. Clay not hav- 
 ing applied for a prolongation of time for 
 the purpose of getting sure aim, but only 
 to enable his unused hand, long unfa- 
 miliar with the pistol, to fire within the 
 limited time. There was no prolongation, 
 in fact, either granted or insisted upon; 
 but Mr. Randolph was in doubt, and Gen- 
 eral Jesup having won the word, he was 
 having him repeat it in the way he was 
 to give it out, when his finger touched the 
 hair trigger. The inquiry, 'May I not 
 disable him?' was still on Mr. Randolph's 
 mind, and dependent for its solution on 
 the rising incidents of the moment, when 
 the accidental fire of his pistol, gave the 
 torn to his feelings which solved the 
 
 was to disable him, and spoil his aim. 
 And then he added, with the deepest feel- 
 ing 
 
 " / would not have seen him fall mor- 
 tally, or even doubtfully, wounded, for all 
 the land that is watered by the King of 
 Floods and all his tributary streams." 
 
 Saying this, Mr. Randolph left Colonel 
 Benton to resume his post, utterly refusing 
 te explain out of the senate anything that 
 he had said in it, and with the positive 
 declaration that he would not return the 
 next fire. Colonel Benton concludes his 
 reminiscences of this most remarkable 
 affair, as follows: I withdrew a little way 
 into the woods, and kept my eyes fixed 
 upon Mr. Randolph, whom I then knew to 
 be the only one in danger. I saw him 
 receive the fire of Mr. Clay, saw the 
 
 
 '"-^ 
 
 DUELING-GROUND AT BLADENSBURG. 
 
 N^V 
 
 doubt. But he afterwards declared to 
 Colonel Benton, that he had not aimed at 
 the life of Mr. Clay ; that he did not level 
 as high as the knee not higher than the 
 knee-band, ' for it was no mercy to shoot 
 a man in the knee ; ' that his only object 
 
 gravel knocked up in the same place, saw 
 Mr. Randolph raise his pistol, discharge 
 it into the air, heard him say, " I do not 
 fire at you, Mr. Clay" and immediately 
 advancing, and offering his hand. He 
 was met in the same spirit. They met 
 
DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 203 
 
 half-way, shook hands, Mr. Randolph say- 
 ing jocosely, " You owe me a coat, Mr. 
 Clay," (the bullet had passed through 
 the skirt of the coat, very near the hip) 
 to which Mr. Clay promptly and hap- 
 pily replied, " / am glad the debt is no 
 greater." I had come up, and was prompt 
 to proclaim what I had been obliged to 
 keep secret for eight days. The joy of all 
 was extreme at this happy termination of 
 a most critical affair, and we immediately 
 left, with lighter hearts than we brought. 
 I stopped to sup with Mr. Randolph and 
 his friends, none of us wanted dinner, 
 and had a characteristic time of it. A 
 runner came in from the bank, to say that 
 they had overpaid him, by mistake, one 
 hundred and thirty dollars that day. Mr. 
 Randolph answered, " I believe it is your 
 rule not to correct mistakes, except at the 
 time and at your counter." And with 
 that answer the runner had to return. 
 "When gone, Mr. Randolph said, " I will 
 pay it on Monday ; people must be honest, 
 if banks are not." He asked for the 
 sealed paper he had given me, opened it, 
 took out a check for one thousand dollars, 
 drawn in my favor, and with which I was 
 requested to have him carried, if killed, to 
 Virginia, and buried under his patri- 
 monial oaks, not let him be buried at 
 Washington, with an hundred hacks after 
 him. He took the gold from his left 
 breeches pocket, and said to as (Hamil- 
 ton, Tatnall, and I), 
 
 " Gentlemen, Clay's bad shooting shan't 
 rob you of your seals. I am going to 
 London, and will have them made for 
 you." 
 
 This he did (says Colonel Benton), and 
 most characteristically, so far as mine was 
 concerned. He went to the heraldry office 
 in London, and inquired for the Benton 
 family, of which I had often told him 
 there was none, as we only dated on that 
 side from my grandfather in North Caro- 
 lina. But the name was found, and with 
 it a coat of arms, among the quarterings 
 a lion rampant. "This is the family," 
 said he ; and had the arms engraved on 
 the seal. 
 
 The account given by General James 
 Hamilton, of this duel, states that, in 
 company with Colonel Tatnall, he repaired, 
 at midnight, to Mr. Randolph's lodgings, 
 and found him reading Milton's great 
 poem. For some moments he did not per- 
 mit them to say one word in relation to 
 the approaching duel, for he at once com- 
 menced one of those delightful criticisms 
 on a passage of this poet, in which he was 
 wont so enthusiastically to indulge. After 
 a pause, Colonel Tatnall remarked : 
 
 "Mr. Randolph, I am told you have 
 determined not to return Mr. Clay's fire ; 
 I must say to you, my dear sir, if I am 
 only to go out to see you shot down, you 
 must find some other friend." 
 
 "Well, Tatnall," said Mr. Randolph, 
 after much conversation on the subject, " I 
 promise you cfne thing ; if I see the devil 
 in Clay's eye, and that, with malice pre- 
 pense, he means to take my life, I may 
 change my mind." 
 
 As the sequel showed, however, he saw 
 no ' devil in Clay's eye,' but a man fear- 
 less, and expressing the mingled sensi- 
 bility and firmness pertaining to the 
 occasion. For, whilst Tatnall was load- 
 ing Mr. Randolph's pistol, Hamilton ap- 
 proached Randolph, took his hand, in 
 the touch of which there was not the 
 quivering of one pulsation, and then, 
 turning to Hamilton, Randolph said: 
 
 " Clay is calm, but not vindictive ; I 
 hold my purpose, Hamilton, in any event ; 
 remember this." 
 
 On Randolph's pistol going off without 
 the word, General Jesup, Mr. Clay's 
 friend, called out that he would instantly 
 leave the ground with his friend, if that 
 occurred again. On the word being 
 given, Mr. Clay fired without effect, Mr. 
 Randolph discharging his pistol in the 
 air. On seeing this, Mr. Clay instantly 
 approached Mr. Randolph, and with a gush 
 of the deepest emotion, said, 
 
 " I trust in God, my dear sir, you are 
 untouched; after what has occurred, I 
 would not have harmed you for a thott- 
 sand worlds /" 
 
 On the ensuing Monday, Mr. Clay and 
 
204 
 
 DUEL BETWEEN CLAY AND RANDOLPH. 
 
 Mr. Randolph formally exchanged cards, 
 and their relations of amity and courtesy 
 were restored. 
 
 Many of Mr. Clay's warmest political 
 friends, at the north and west, deeply 
 regretted that he should resort to what 
 they deemed so immoral and barbarous 
 a mode of vindicating his character, as 
 that of the duello. But this was soon 
 forgotten, and his political career continued 
 to be one of great brilliancy and power. 
 He soon succeeded General John Adair, 
 as senator from Kentucky ; and again, in 
 1831, was elected over Richard M. John- 
 son, to the same high nost. He was dis- 
 
 appointed, however, in his aspirations for 
 the presidency, though great enthusiasm 
 was manifested for the ticket which, in 
 1831, bore his name at its head, with John 
 Sergeant for vice-president. The other 
 political duels which have excited great 
 interest in the public mind, during the 
 century, were those of Lee and Laurens, 
 Cadwallader and Conway, Guinnett and 
 Mc'Intosh, Hamilton and Burr, DeWitt 
 Clinton and Swartwout, Cilley and Graves, 
 Broderick and Terry. General Jackson 
 and Colonel Benton were also parties to 
 several duels, the former killing Mr. 
 Dickinson, and the latter a Mr. Lucas. 
 
XXV. 
 
 THE "GREAT DEBATE" BETWEEN WEBSTER AND 
 HAYNE, IN CONGRESS 1830. 
 
 Vital Constitutional Issues Discussed Unsurpassed Power and Splendor of Senatorial Eloquence. 
 Webster's Speech Acknowledged to be the Grandest Forensic Achievement in the Whole Range of 
 Modern Parliamentary Efforts. Golden Age of American Oratory. TJnprec" rl nted Interest and 
 Excitement Produced in the Public Mind. No American Debate Comparable with This. Known as 
 the "Battle of the Giants " Inflamed Feeling at the South. Hayne's Brilliant Championship. His 
 Speech Against the North. Profound Impression Created Its Dash, Assurance, Severity Bitter 
 and Sweeping Charges. His Opponents Wonder-Struck. Webster has the Floor to Reply. An 
 Ever-Memorable Day. Intense Anxiety to Hear Him. Magnificent Personal Appearance. His 
 Exordium, all Hearts Enchained. Immense Intellectual Range Copious and Crushing Logic. 
 Accumulative Grandeur of Thought. Thrilling Apostrophe to the Union. The Serious, Comic, 
 Pathetic, etc. Hayne's Argument Demolished. Reception Accorded the Speech. Rival Orators; 
 Pleasant Courtesies. 
 
 " It has been my fortune to hear some of the ab>st apeechea of the greatest living orators on both aides of the water, but I mnat confest I 
 IT heard anything which so completely realized my conception of what Demosthenes was when he delivered the Oration for the Crown.* 1 
 
 HE remark made by a distinguished public man, 
 that to have heard the great national debate in the 
 senate of the United States, between Webster of 
 Massachusetts and Hayne of South Carolina, "con- 
 stituted an era in a man's life," is an expression 
 worthy of being expanded into the far more com- 
 mensurate statement that the debate in question 
 constituted an era of far-reaching influence and 
 importance, in the political history of the nation. 
 It was, indeed, the greatest forensic exhibition this 
 
 THE VICTOR'S -WREATH. country has ever witnessed, and, though nearly 
 
 half a century has elapsed since its occurrence, and the immediate participants and 
 their official contemporaries have, almost all of them, long since passed to the sphere of 
 another existence, the occasion still furnishes, and will continue to furnish to future 
 generations, one of the most instructive chapters in the annals of national affairs. Well 
 has the debate been called ' the battle of the giants' 
 
 Fortunately for those who would wish, in after time, to inform themselves with ref- 
 erence to the principles involved and the chief actors engaged in this great debate, 
 
206 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 th memorials of the occasion furnished 
 by Mr. March, and, subsequently, by Mr. 
 Lanman, Dr. Tefft, Louis Gaylord Clark, 
 Edward Everett, and others, leave nothing 
 to be supplied. Mr. March's notes are 
 adopted by Mr. Everett, in his memoirs of 
 Mr. Webster, and, in an abridged form, 
 are given below, in connection with the 
 perspicuous statements of Tefft and others 
 relating to the general issue. The speech 
 was also reported by Mr. Joseph Gales, 
 at the request of Judge Burnett, of Ohio, 
 and other senators. On canvas, too, Hea- 
 ley, the master-painter, has commem- 
 orated in an enduring manner, the orator 
 and the occasion. 
 
 The subject of discussion before the 
 senate, in the persons of these two intel- 
 lectual gladiators, grew out of a resolution 
 brought forward by Senator Foot, of Con- 
 necticut, just at the close of the previous 
 year, with a view to some arrangement 
 concerning the sale of the public lands. 
 But this immediate question was soon lost 
 sight of in the discussion of a great, vital 
 principle of constitutional law, namely : 
 the relative powers of the states and the 
 national government. Upon this, Mr. 
 Benton and Mr. Hayne addressed the 
 senate, condemning the policy of the east- 
 ern states, as illiberal toward the west. 
 Mr. Webster replied, in vindication of 
 New England and of the policy of the 
 government. It was then that Mr. Hayne 
 made his attack sudden, unexpected, and 
 certainly unexampled, on Mr. Webster 
 personally, upon Massachusetts and the 
 other northern states politically, and upon 
 the constitution itself; in respect to the 
 latter, Mr. Hayne taking the position, that 
 it is constitutional to interrupt the admin- 
 istration of the constitution itself, in the 
 hands of those who are chosen and sworn 
 to administer it, by the direct interference, 
 in form of law, of the states, in virtue of 
 their sovereign capacity. All of these 
 points were handled by Mr. Hayne with 
 that rhetorical brilliancy and power which 
 characterized him as the oratorical cham- 
 pion of the south, on the floor of the 
 senate ; and it is not saying too much, 
 
 that the speech produced a profound im- 
 pression. 
 
 Mr. Hayne's great effort appeared to be 
 the result of premeditation, concert and 
 arrangement. He selected his own time, 
 and that, too, peculiarly inconvenient to 
 Mr. Webster, for, at that moment, the 
 supreme court were proceeding in the 
 hearing of a cause of great importance, in 
 wRich he was a leading counsel. For this 
 reason, he requested, through a friend, a 
 postponement of the debate; Mr. Hayne 
 objected, however, and the request was 
 refused. The time, the matter, and the 
 manner, indicated that the attack was 
 made with a design to crush so formidable 
 a political opponent as Mr. Webster had 
 become. To this end, personal history, 
 the annals of New England and of the 
 federal party, were ransacked for materi- 
 als. It was attempted, with the usual 
 partisan unfairness of political harangues, 
 to make him responsible, not only fry* what 
 was his own, but for the conduct and opin- 
 ions of others. All the errors and delin- 
 quencies, real or supposed, of Massachu- 
 setts, and the eastern states, and of the 
 federal party, during the war of 1812, and, 
 indeed, prior and subsequent to that 
 period, were accumulated upon him. 
 
 Thus it was, that Mr. Hayne heralded 
 his speech with a bold declaration of war, 
 with taunts and threats, vaunting antici- 
 pated triumph, as if to paralyze by intimi- 
 dation; saying that he would carry the 
 war into Africa, until he had obtained 
 indemnity for the past and security for the 
 future. It was supposed that, as a distin- 
 guished representative man, Mr. Webster 
 would be driven to defend what was inde- 
 fensible, and to uphold what could not be 
 sustained, and, as a federalist, to oppose 
 the popular resolutions of '98. 
 
 The severe nature of Mr. Hayne's 
 charges, the ability with which he brought 
 them to bear upon his opponents, his great 
 reputation as a brilliant and powerful 
 declaimer, filled the minds of his friends 
 with anticipations of complete triumph. 
 For two days, Mr. Hayne had the control 
 of the floor. The vehemence of his Ian- 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 207 
 
 guage and the earnestness of his manner 
 gave added force to the excitement of the 
 occasion. So fluent and melodious was his 
 elocution, that his cause naturally begat 
 sympathy. No one had time to deliberate 
 upon his rapid words, or canvass his sweep- 
 ing and accumulated statements. The 
 dashing nature of the onset; the assurance, 
 almost insolence, of its tone; the serious 
 character and apparent truth of the accu- 
 sations, confounded almost every hearer. 
 The immediate impression from the speech 
 was most assuredly disheartening to the 
 cause Mr. Webster upheld. Congratula- 
 tions from almost every quarter were show- 
 ered upon the speaker. Mr. Benton said, 
 in the full senate, that much as Mr. Hayne 
 had done before to establish his reputation 
 as an orator, a statesman, a patriot, and a 
 gallant son of the south, the efforts of that 
 day would eclipse and surpass the whole. 
 Indeed, the speech was extolled as the 
 greatest effort of the time, or of other 
 times, neither Chatham, nor Burke, nor 
 Fox, had surpassed it, in their palmiest 
 days. 
 
 Satisfaction, however, with the speech, 
 even among the friends of the orator, was 
 not unanimous. Some of the senators 
 knew, for they had felt, Mr. Webster's 
 power. They knew the great resources of 
 his mind; the immense range of his intel- 
 lect; the fertility of his imagination; his 
 copious and fatal logic ; the scathing sever- 
 ity of his sarcasm, and his full and electri- 
 fying eloquence. Mr. Webster's own 
 feelings with reference to the speech were 
 freely expressed to his friend, Mr. Everett, 
 the evening succeeding Mr. Hayne's clos- 
 ing effort. He regarded the speech as an 
 entirely unprovoked attack upon the north, 
 and, what was of far more importance, as 
 an exposition of a system of politics, 
 which, in Mr. Webster's opinion, went far 
 to change the form of government from 
 that which was established by the consti- 
 tution, into that which existed under the 
 confederation, if the latter could be called 
 a government at all. He stated it to be 
 his intention, therefore, to put that theory 
 to rest forever, as far as it could be done 
 
 by an argument in the senate-chamber. 
 How grandly he did this, is thus vividly 
 portrayed by Mr. March, an eye-witness, 
 and whose account has been adopted by all 
 historians: 
 
 It was on Tuesday, January the twenty- 
 sixth, 1830, a day to be hereafter forever 
 memorable in senatorial annals, that the 
 senate resumed the consideration of Foot's 
 resolution. There was never before in the 
 city, an occasion of so much excitement. 
 To witness this great intellectual contest, 
 multitudes of strangers had for two or 
 
 ROBERT Y. HAYNE. 
 
 three days previous been rushing into the 
 city, and the hotels overflowed. As early 
 as nine o'clock in the morning, crowds 
 poured into the capitol, in hot haste ; at 
 twelve o'clock, the hour of meeting, the 
 senate-chamber, its galleries, floor, and 
 even the lobbies, was filled to its utmost 
 capacity. The very stairways were dark 
 with men, who hung on to one another, 
 like bees in a swarm. 
 
 The house of representatives was early 
 deserted. An adjournment would hardly 
 have made it emptier. The speaker, it is 
 true, retained his chair, but no business of 
 moment was, or could be, attended to. 
 Members all rushed in, to hear Mr. Web- 
 ster, and no call of the house, or other par- 
 liamentary proceedings, could compel them 
 I back. The floor of the senate was BO 
 
208 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 densely crowded, that persons once in 
 could not get out, nor change their posi- 
 tion. In the rear of the vice-president's 
 chair, the crowd was particularly dense; 
 Hon. Dixon H. Lewis, then a representa- 
 tive from Alabama, became wedged in 
 here. From his enormous size, it was 
 impossible for him to move without dis- 
 placing a vast portion of the multitude ; 
 unfortunately, too, for him, he was 
 jammed in directly behind the chair of the 
 vice-president, where he could not see, and 
 could hardly hear, the speaker. By slow 
 and laborious effort pausing occasionally 
 to breathe he gained one of the windows, 
 which, constructed of painted glass, flanked 
 the chair of the vice-president on either 
 side. Here he paused, unable to make 
 more headway. But determined to see 
 Mr. Webster, as he spoke, with his knife 
 he made a large hole in one of the panes 
 of glass. The courtesy of senators ac- 
 corded to the fairer sex room on the floor 
 the most gallant of them, their own 
 seats. 
 
 Seldom, if ever, has -speaker in this or 
 any other country, had more powerful 
 incentives to exertion ; a subject, the 
 determination of which involved the most 
 important interests, and even duration, of 
 the republic ; competitors, unequaled in 
 reputation, ability, or position ; a name to 
 make still more renowned, or lose forever ; 
 and an audience, comprising not only 
 American citizens most eminent in intel- 
 lectual greatness, but representatives of 
 other nations, where the art of eloquence 
 had flourished for ages. 
 
 Mr. Webster perceived, anu felt equal 
 to, the destinies of the moment. The very 
 greatness of the hazard exhilarated him. 
 His spirits rose with the occasion. He 
 awaited the time of onset with a stern and 
 impatient joy. He felt, like the war-horse 
 of the scriptures, who ' paweth in the 
 valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : who 
 goeth on to meet the armed men, who 
 sayeth among the trumpets, ha, ha ! and 
 who smelleth the battle afar off, the thun- 
 der of the captains and the shouting.' A 
 confidence in his resources, springing from 
 
 no vain estimate of his power, but the 
 legitimate offspring of previous severe 
 mental discipline, sustained and excited 
 him. He had gauged his opponents, his 
 subject, and himself. He was, too, at this 
 period, in the very prime of manhood. He 
 had reached middle age an era in the life 
 of man, when the faculties, physical or 
 intellectual, may be supposed to attain 
 their fullest organization, and most perfect 
 development. . Whatever there was in 
 him of intellectual energy and vitality, the 
 occasion, his full life and high ambition, 
 might well bring forth. 
 
 He never rose on an ordinary occasion 
 to address an ordinary audience more self- 
 possessed. There was no tremulousness in 
 his voice nor manner; nothing hurried, 
 nothing simulated. The calmness of supe- 
 rior strength was visible everywhere ; in 
 countenance, voice, and bearing. A deep- 
 seated conviction of the extraordinary 
 character of the emergency, and of his 
 ability to control it, seemed to possess him 
 wholly. If an observer, more than ordi- 
 narily keen-sighted, detected at times 
 something like exultation in his eye, he 
 presumed it sprang from the excitement of 
 the moment, and the anticipation of 
 victory. 
 
 The anxiety to hear the speech was so 
 intense, irrepressible, and universal, that 
 no sooner had the vice-president assumed 
 the chair, than a motion was made and 
 unanimously carried, to postpone the ordi- 
 nary preliminaries of senatorial action, and 
 to take up immediately the consideration 
 of the resolution. 
 
 Mr. Webster rose and addressed the 
 senate. His exordium is known by heart 
 everywhere : " Mr. President, when the 
 mariner has been tossed, for many days, in 
 thick weather, and oh an unknown sea, he 
 naturally avails himself of the first pause 
 in the storm, the earliest glance of the 
 sun, to take his latitude, and ascertain how 
 far the elements have driven him from his 
 true course. Let us imitate this prudence ; 
 and before we float further, on the waves 
 of this debate, refer to the point from 
 which we departed, that we may, at least, 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 10 b 
 
 be able to form some conjecture where we 
 now are. I ask for the reading of the res- 
 olution." Calm, resolute, impressive, was 
 this opening utterance. 
 
 There wanted no more to enchain the 
 attention. There was a spontaneous, 
 though silent, expression of eager approba- 
 tion, as the orator concluded these opening 
 remarks. And while the clerk read the 
 resolution, many attempted the impossibil- 
 ity of getting nearer the speaker. Every 
 head was inclined closer towards him, 
 ever}' ear turned in the direction of his 
 voice and that deep, sudden, mysterious 
 silence followed, which always attends full- 
 ness of emotion. From the sea of up- 
 turned faces before him, the orator beheld 
 his thoughts reflected as from a mirror. 
 The varying countenance, the suffused eye, 
 the earnest smile, and ever-attentive look, 
 assured him of the intense interest excited. 
 If, among his hearers, there were those 
 who affected at first an indifference to his 
 glowing thoughts and fervent periods, the 
 difficult mask was soon laid aside, and 
 profound, undisguised, devoted attention 
 
 DANIKL WKBSTEB. 
 
 followed. In truth, all, sooner or later, 
 voluntarily, or in spite of themselves, were 
 wholly carried away by the spell of such 
 unexampled forensic eloquence. 
 
 Those who had doubted Mr. Webster's 
 
 ability to cope with and overcome his 
 14 
 
 opponents were fully satisfied of their 
 error before he had proceeded far in his 
 speech. Their feara soon took another 
 direction. W T hen they heard his sentences 
 of powerful thought, towering in accumu- 
 lative grandeur, one above the other, as 
 if the orator strove, Titan-like, to reach 
 the very heavens themselves, they were 
 giddy with an apprehension that he would 
 break down in his flight. They dared not 
 believe, that genius, learning, any intel' 
 lectual endowment, however uncommon, 
 that was simply mortal, could sustain 
 itself long in a career seemingly so peril- 
 ous. They feared an Icarian fall. 
 
 No one, surely, could ever forget, who 
 was present to hear, the tremendous the 
 awful burst of eloquence with which the 
 orator apostrophized the old Bay State 
 which Mr. Hayne had so derided, or the 
 tones of deep pathos in which her defense 
 was pronounced: "Mr. President, I shall 
 enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts. 
 There she is behold her and judge for 
 yourselves. There is her history ; the 
 world knows it by heart. The past, at 
 least, is secure. There is Boston, and 
 Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill, 
 and there they will remain forever. 
 The bones of her sons, falling in the great 
 struggle for independence, now lie min- 
 gled with the soil of every state, from New 
 England to Georgia ; and there they will 
 lie forever. And, sir, where American 
 liberty raised its first voice, and where its 
 youth was nurtured and sustained, there it 
 still lives, in the strength of its manhood 
 and full of its original spirit. If discord 
 and disunion shall wound it if party- 
 strife and blind ambition shall hawk at 
 and tear it if folly and madness if uneas- 
 iness under salutary and necessary re- 
 straint, shall succeed to separate it from 
 that Union, by which alone its existence 
 is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by 
 the side of that cradle in which its infancy 
 was rocked : it will stretch fortJi its arm 
 with whatever of vigor it may still retain, 
 over the friends who gather round it ; and 
 it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst 
 the proudest monuments of its own glory, 
 
210 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 anil on the very spot of its origin." No 
 New England heart but throbbed with 
 vehement, absorbed, irrepressible emotion, 
 as Mr. Webster thus dwelt upon New 
 England sufferings, New England strug- 
 gles, and New England triumphs, during 
 the war of the revolution. There was 
 scarcely a dry eye in the senate ; all hearts 
 were overcome ; grave judges, and men 
 grown old in dignified life, turned aside 
 their heads, to conceal the evidences of 
 their emotion. 
 
 In one corner of the gallery was clus- 
 tered a group of Massachusetts men. 
 They had hung from the first moment 
 upon the words of the speaker, with feel- 
 ings variously but always warmly excited, 
 deepening in intensity as he proceeded. 
 At first, while the orator was going 
 through hia exordium, they held their 
 breath and hid their faces, mindful of the 
 fierce attack upon him and New England, 
 and the fearful odds against any one 
 standing up as a champion of the latter ; 
 as he went deeper into his speech, they 
 telt easier ; when he turned Hayne's flank 
 on " Banquo's ghost " that famous rhe- 
 torical figure used by the South Carolinian, 
 they breathed freer and fuller. But 
 anon, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their 
 feelings were strained to the utmost ten- 
 sion ; and when the senator, concluding 
 his passages upon the land of their birth, 
 turned, intentionally or otherwise, his 
 burning eye upon them, tears -were falling 
 like rain adown their cheeks. 
 
 No one who was not present can under- 
 stand the excitement of the scene. No 
 one, who was, can give an adequate de- 
 scription of it. No word-painting can 
 convey the deep, intense enthusiasm, the 
 reverential attention, of that vast assem- 
 bly, nor limner transfer to canvas their 
 earnest, eager, awe-struck countenances. 
 Though language were as subtle and flex- 
 ible as thought, it still would be impossi- 
 ble to represent the full idea of the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 Much of the instantaneous effect of the 
 speech arose, of course, from the orator's 
 delivery the tones of his voice, his coun- 
 
 tenance, and manner. These die mostly 
 with the occasion ; they can only be 
 described in general terms. " Of the 
 effectiveness of Mr. Webster's manner, in 
 many parts," says Mr. Everett, himself 
 almost without a peer, as an orator, " it 
 would be in vain to attempt to give any 
 one not present the faintest idea. It has 
 been my fortune to hear some of the ablest 
 speeches of the greatest living orators on 
 both sides of the water, but I must confess 
 I never heard anything which so com- 
 pletely realized my conception of what 
 Demosthenes was when he delivered the 
 Oration for the Crown." There could be 
 no higher praise than this. Kean nor 
 Kemble, nor any other masterly delineator 
 of the human passions, ever produced a 
 more powerful impression upon an audi- 
 ence, or swayed so completely their hearts. 
 
 No one ever looked the orator, as he did, 
 in form and feature how like a god ! His 
 countenance spake no less audibly than his 
 words. His manner gave new force to his 
 language. As he stood swaying his right 
 arm, like a huge tilt-hammer, up and 
 down, his swarthy countenance lighted up 
 with excitement, he appeared amid the 
 smoke, the fire, the thunder of his elo- 
 quence, like Vulcan in his armory forging 
 thoughts for the gods ! Time had not 
 thinned nor bleached his hair; it was as 
 dark as the raven's plumage, surmounting 
 his massive brow in ample folds. His eye, 
 always dark and deep-set, enkindled by 
 some glowing thought, shone from beneath 
 his somber, overhanging brow like lights, 
 in the blackness of night, from a sepul- 
 chre. No one understood, better than Mr. 
 Webster, the philosophy of dress ; what a 
 powerful auxiliary it is to speech and 
 manner, when harmonizing with them. 
 On this occasion he appeared in a blue 
 coat, a buff vest, black pants, and white 
 cravat, a costume strikingly in keeping 
 with his face and expression. 
 
 The human face never wore an expres- 
 sion of more withering, relentless scorn, 
 than when the orator replied to Hayne's 
 allusion to the " murdered coalition," a 
 piece of stale political trumpery, well 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 211 
 
 understood at that day. " It is," said Mr. 
 Webster, "the very cast-off slough of a 
 polluted and shameless press. Incapable 
 of further mischief, it lies in the sewer, 
 lifeless and despised. It is not now, sir, 
 in the power of the honorable member to 
 give it dignity or decency, by attempting 
 to elevate it, and introduce it into the 
 senate. He cannot change it from what 
 it is an object of general disgust and 
 scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he 
 choose to touch it, is more likely to drag 
 him down, down to the place where it lies 
 itself ! " He looked, as he spoke these 
 words, as if the thing he alluded to was 
 too mean for scorn itself, and the sharp, 
 stinging enunciation, made the words still 
 more scathing. The audience seemed 
 relieved, so crushing was the expression 
 of his face which they held on to, as 'twere, 
 spell-bound, when he turned to other 
 topics. 
 
 But the good-natured yet provoking 
 irony with which he described the imagin- 
 ary though life-like scene of direct collision 
 between the marshaled army of South 
 Carolina under General Hayne on the one 
 side, and the officers of the United States 
 on the other, nettled his opponent even 
 more than his severer satire; it seemed so 
 ridiculously true. With his true Southern 
 blood, Hayne inquired, with some degree 
 of emotion, if the gentleman from Massa- 
 chusetts intended any personal imputation 
 by such remarks? To which Mr. Web- 
 ster replied, with perfect good humor, 
 " Assuredly not just the reverse ! " 
 
 The variety of incident during the 
 speech, and the rapid fluctuation of pas- 
 sions, kept the audience in continual 
 expectation, and ceaseless agitation. The 
 speech was a complete drama of serious, 
 comic, and pathetic scenes ; and though a 
 large portion of it was strictly argumenta- 
 tive an exposition of constitutional law, 
 yet, grave as such portion necessarily 
 must be, severely logical, and abounding 
 in no fancy or episode, it engrossed, 
 throughout, undivided attention. 
 
 The swell of his voice and its solemn 
 roll struck upon the ears of the enraptured 
 
 audience, in deep and thrilling cadence, as 
 waves upon the shore of the far-resound- 
 ing sea. The Miltonic grandeur of his 
 words was the fit expression of his great 
 thoughts, and raised his hearers up to his 
 theme ; and his voice, exerted to its utmost 
 power, penetrated every recess or corner 
 of the senate penetrated even the ante- 
 rooms and stairways, as, in closing, he 
 pronounced in deepest tones of pathos 
 these words of solemn significance : 
 " When my eyes shall be turned to behold, 
 for the last time, the sun in heaven, may 
 I not see him shining on the broken and 
 dishonored fragments of a once glorious 
 Union; on states dissevered, discordant, 
 belligerent; on a land rent with civil 
 feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
 blood! Let their last feeble and lingering 
 glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign 
 of the republic, now known and honored 
 throughout the earth, still full high 
 advanced, its arms and trophies streaming 
 in their original luster, not a stripe erased 
 nor polluted, not a single star obscured, 
 bearing for its motto no such miserable 
 interrogatory as, "What is all this worth ?" 
 nor those other words of delusion and 
 folly, "Liberty first and Union after- 
 wards : " but everywhere, spread all over 
 in characters of living light, blazing on all 
 its ample folds, as they float over the sea 
 and over the land, and in every wind 
 under the whole heavens, that other senti- 
 ment, dear to every American heart, 
 "LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOK- 
 EVEB, ONE AND INSEPARABLE ! " 
 
 The speech was over, but the tones of 
 the orator still lingered upon the ear, and 
 the audience, unconscious of the close, 
 retained their positions. Everywhere 
 around seemed forgetfulness of all but the 
 orator's presence and words. There never 
 was a deeper stillness ; silence could almost 
 have heard itself, it was so supernaturally 
 still. The feeling was too overpowering, 
 to allow expression by voice or hand. It 
 was as if one was in a trance, all motion 
 paralyzed. But the descending hammer 
 of the chair awoke them, with a start ; and 
 with one universal, long drawn, deep 
 
212 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 WEBSTER'S REPLY TO HATNE. 
 
 breath, with which the overcharged heart 
 geeks relief, the crowded assembly broke 
 up and departed. 
 
 New England men walked down Penn- 
 sylvania avenue that day, after the speech, 
 with a firmer step and bolder air ' pride 
 in their port, defiance in their eye.' They 
 devoured the way in their stride. They 
 looked every one in the face they met, 
 fearing no contradiction. They swarmed 
 in the streets, having become miraculously 
 multitudinous. They clustered in parties 
 and fought the scene over one hundred 
 times that night. Their elation was 
 the greater, by reaction. Not one of 
 them but felt he had gained a personal 
 victory. 
 
 In the evening, General Jackson held a 
 presidential levee at the White House. It 
 was known, in advance, that Mr. Webster 
 would attend it, and hardly had the hos- 
 pitable doors of the mansion been thrown 
 open, when the crowd that had filled the 
 senate-chamber in the morning rushed in 
 
 and occupied the rooms, leaving a vast 
 and increasing crowd at the entrance. 
 On all previous occasions, the general 
 himself had been the observed of all 
 observers. His receptions were always 
 gladly attended by large numbers ; and 
 to these he himself was always the chief 
 object of attraction, on account of his 
 great military and personal reputation, 
 official position, gallant bearing, and 
 courteous manners. 
 
 But on this occasion, the room in which 
 he received his company was deserted, as 
 soon as courtesy to the president permitted. 
 Mr. Webster was in the East Room, and 
 thither the whole mass hurried. He stood 
 almost in the center of the room, pressed 
 upon by surging crowds, eager to pay him 
 deference. Hayne, too, was there, and, with 
 others, went up and complimented Mr. Web- 
 ster on his brilliant effort. In a subsequent 
 meeting between the two rival debaters, 
 Webster challenged Hayne to drink a glass 
 of wine with him, saying, as he did so, 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE. 
 
 213 
 
 " General Hayne, I drink to your health, 
 and I hope that you may live a thousand 
 years." 
 
 " I shall not live more than one hundred, 
 if you make another such speech," Hayne 
 replied. 
 
 To this day, Webster's speech is re- 
 garded as the masterpiece of modern elo- 
 quence, unsurpassed by even the might- 
 iest efforts of Pitt, Fox, or Burke, a 
 matchless intellectual achievement and 
 complete forensic triumph. It was to this 
 great and triumphant effort, that Mr. 
 Webster's subsequent matchless fame as a 
 statesman was due; and, that he was 
 equal to comprehending the true principles 
 of international, as well as those of inter- 
 nal, justice and policy, is abundantly 
 proved by his diplomacy with Great Brit- 
 ain, to which the highest credit is awarded 
 by Eliot, the accomplished historian, in his 
 concise and admirable review of public 
 affairs during this period. An insurrec- 
 tion (says Mr. Eliot) having broken out 
 in Canada, it was immediately supported 
 by American parties, the insurgents being 
 in favor of reform or independence. One 
 of these American parties, in company 
 with some Canadian refugees, after pillag- 
 ing the New York arsenals, seized upon 
 Navy Island, a British possession in the 
 Niagara river. Mr. Marcy was governor 
 of New York at this time. The steamer 
 Caroline, engaged in bringing over men, 
 arms, and stores to the island, was de- 
 stroyed, though at the time on the Ameri- 
 can shore, by a Britsh detachment. The 
 deed was instantly avowed by the minister 
 of Great Britain at Washington as an act 
 of self-defense on the British side. One 
 of the chief characters in these exciting 
 movements was William M'Kenzie. In 
 November, 1840, one Alexander M'Leod, 
 
 sheriff of Niagara, in Canada, and as such 
 a participator in the destruction of the 
 Caroline, was arrested in New York on 
 the charge of murder, an American having 
 lost his life when the steamer was de- 
 stroyed. The British government de- 
 manded his release, in doing which they 
 were sustained by the United States 
 administration, on the ground that M'Leod 
 was but an agent or soldier of Great Brit- 
 ain. But the authorities of New York 
 held fast to their prisoner, and brought 
 him to trial. Had harm come to him, his 
 government stood pledged to declare war ; 
 but he was acquitted for want of proof. 
 The release of M'Leod did not, however, 
 settle the affair of the Caroline ; this still 
 remained. There were, or there had been, 
 other difficulties also, namely, upon the 
 Maine frontier, where the boundary-line 
 had never yet been run. Collisions took 
 place, between the Maine militia and the 
 British troops, and others had been but 
 just prevented. On Mr. Webster's acces- 
 sion to the state department, our govern- 
 ment proposed, through Mr. Webster, to 
 the British cabinet, to take up the north- 
 eastern boundary question. The offer was 
 accepted by the British, who sent, as spe- 
 cial envoy, Lord Ashburton, to whom was 
 committed the boundary and other contro- 
 verted questions. The consultations be- 
 tween Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburton 
 led to a treaty which settled the boundary, 
 put down the claim to visit our vessels, 
 and provided for the mutual surrender of 
 fugitives from justice. For the affair of 
 the Caroline, an apology was made by 
 Great Britain. 
 
 The fame of Mr. Webster, as an 
 orator, a statesman, and an expounder of 
 public law, thus became world-wide and 
 unrivaled. 
 
XXVI. 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE. MORMONS, OR "LATTER- 
 DAY SAINTS," UNDER JOSEPH SMITH, THE 
 "PROPHET OF THE LORD." 1830. 
 
 His Assumed Discovery of the Golden Plates of a New Bible. Apostles Sent Forth and Converts 
 Obtained in All Parts of the World. Founding and Destruction of Nauvoo, the " City of Zion." 
 Smith's Character. Removal to Utah, the "Promised Land." Smith the "Mohammed 
 of the West." His Origin and Repute. Pretended Supernatural Interviews. Revela- 
 tions of Divine Records. Finds and Translates Them. Secret History of this Transaction. 
 Pronounced to be a Fraud. Teachings of the Mormon Bible. Smith Claims to be Inspired 
 Announced as a Second Savior. Organization of the Firsi Church. Strange Title Adopted. 
 Smith's Great Personal Influence. Rapid Increase of the Sect. Settlement at the West. 
 Violent Opposition to Them. Outrages, Assassinations, Riots. Polygamy "Divinely" Author- 
 ized. Smith in Jail as a Criminal. Is Shot Dead by a Furious Mob. Brigham Young His Suc- 
 cessor. The " New Jerusalem." 
 
 " And with a piece of scripture 
 Tell them, that God Did* ui do good for evil. 
 
 And thus I clothe my naked villainy 
 With old odd ends, stol'n forth of Holy Writ, 
 And seem a saint, when most I play the devil." 
 
 the many oracular predictions indulged in by trans-Atlantic wiseacres, 
 concerning the future of American history, not one of them has had 
 so accurate and remarkable a fulfillment as that made by Robert 
 Southey, the great English poet and historian, in 1829, and which 
 ran as follows: "The next Aaron Burr who seeks to carve 
 a kingdom for himself out of the overgrown territories of 
 r^r: the Union, may discern that fanaticism is the most effective 
 weapon with which ambition can arm itself; that the way for 
 both is prepared by that immorality which the want of religion naturally and 
 necessarily induces, and that camp-meetings may be very well directed to forward the 
 designs of military prophets. Were there another Mohammed to arise, there is no 
 part of the world where he would find more scope or fairer opportunity than in that 
 part of the Anglo-American Union into which the older states continually discharge the 
 restless part of their population, leaving laws and Gospel to overtake it if they can, for 
 in the march of modern civilization both are left behind." This prophecy was uttered 
 long before even the name of 'Mormon' had been heard in the west, and, bating the 
 hermit-poet's very natural fling at camp-meetings, and his English cant about American 
 immorality, is worthy of a seer. 
 
RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 215 
 
 Joseph Smith, the Mohammed of the 
 West, founder of the sect called Mor- 
 mons, or Latter-Day Saints, was born in 
 Sharon, Vermont, December 23, 1805, and 
 met a violent death at Carthage, Illinois, 
 in his thirty-ninth year. In 1815, he re- 
 moved with his father to Palmyra, New 
 York, and here they sustained an unen- 
 viable reputation, for idleness, intemper- 
 ance, dishonest}-, and other immoralities. 
 Joseph was especially obnoxious in these 
 respects ; and, having never received any 
 education, he could scarctly so much as 
 read and write when he had attained to 
 manhood, and whatever he put forth to the 
 world, under his own name, was written 
 or composed by another hand. 
 
 According to his own account of him- 
 self, his mind was at a very early age 
 exercised religiously, and, on the evening 
 of September 21st, when he was but 
 eighteen years old, the angel Moroni a 
 glorious being from Heaven appeared 
 before him, as a messenger from the 
 Lord, instructing him in the secret pur- 
 poses of the Most High, and announcing 
 the divine will to be that he, Smith, 
 should become a spiritual leader and com- 
 mander to the nations of the earth. He 
 was also told that there was a bundle of 
 golden or metallic plates deposited in a 
 hill in Manchester, New York (to which 
 place Smith had removed in 1819), whi^h 
 plates contained some lost biblical records, 
 and with which were two transparent 
 stones, set in the rim of a bow of silver, 
 which were anciently known as the Urim 
 and Thummim ; by looking through these 
 stones, he could see the strange characters 
 on the plates translated into plain English. 
 These plates were about eight inches long 
 by seven wide, and a little thinner than 
 ordinary tin, and were bound together by 
 three rings running through the whole. 
 Altogether they were about six inches 
 thick, and were neatly engraved on each 
 side with hieroglyphics in a language 
 called the Reformed Egyptian, not then 
 known on the earth. From these plates, 
 Smith, sitting behind a blanket hung 
 across the room to keep the sacred records 
 
 from profane eyes, read off, through the 
 transparent stones, the "Book of Mor- 
 mon," or Golden Bible, to Oliver Cowdery, 
 who wrote it down as Smith read it. It 
 was printed in 1830, in a volume of 
 several hundred pages. Appended to it 
 was a statement signed by Oliver Cow- 
 dery, David Whitmer, and Martin Harris, 
 who had become professed believers in 
 Smith's supernatural pretensions, and are 
 called by the Mormons, the "three wit- 
 nesses." In after years, however, these 
 witnesses quarreled with Smith, renounced 
 Mormonism, and avowed the falsity of 
 their testimony. 
 
 It is charged by the opponents of 
 Smith, that the book in question was not 
 the production of Smith, in any wise, but 
 of the Rev. Solomon Spalding, who wrote 
 it as a sort of romance, and that it was 
 seen and stolen by Sidney Rigdon, after- 
 wards Smith's right-hand man. Spalding 
 had become involved in his pecuniary 
 affairs, and wrote this work, intending to 
 have it printed and published, and with 
 the proceeds to pay his debts. The book 
 was entitled "Manuscript Found." It 
 was an historical romance of the first set- 
 tlers of America, endeavoring to show that 
 the American Indians are the descendants 
 of the Jews or the lost tribes. It gave a 
 detailed account of their journey from 
 Jerusalem, by land and sea, till they 
 arrived in America under the command of 
 Nephi and Lehi. They afterward had 
 quarrels and contentions, and separated 
 into two distinct nations, one of which he 
 denominated Nephites and the other Lam- 
 anites. Cruel and bloody wars ensued, in 
 which great multitudes were slain. They 
 buried their dead in large heaps, which 
 caused the mounds, so common in this 
 country. Their arts, sciences, and civiliz- 
 ation were brought into view, in order to 
 account for all the curious antiquities, 
 found in various parts of North and South 
 America. Abundant testimony was ad- 
 duced from the wife, brother, and business 
 partner of Spalding, to whom portions of 
 the work had been read while it was in 
 course of preparation, proving that the 
 
 vJ 
 
216 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 Mormon bible was made up of identically 
 the same matter, combined with portions 
 of the true Scripture. Mr. Spalding's 
 business partner, Mr. Miller, testified on 
 oath as follows : 
 
 'I have recently examined the Book of 
 Mormon, and find in it the writings of 
 Solomon Spalding, from beginning to end, 
 but mixed up with Scripture and other 
 religious matter, which I did not meet in 
 the 'Manuscript Found.' Many of the 
 passages in the Mormon book are verbatim 
 from Spalding, and others in part. The 
 names of Nephi, Lehi, Moroni, and in 
 fact all the principal names, are brought 
 fresh to my recollection by the gold bible.' 
 
 Mr. Spalding wrote his manuscript in 
 1812; he afterwards removed to Pitts- 
 burg, Pennsylvania, where he died in 
 1816. His manuscript remained in the 
 printing-office a long time, and in this 
 office Rigdon was a workman. There is 
 the best evidence, therefore, that the 
 so-called Mormon bible had for its basis 
 the matter contained in Mr. Spalding's 
 work. Rigdon, however, had at first no 
 open connection with Smith, and was con- 
 verted by a special mission sent into his 
 neighborhood in 1830. From the time of 
 Rigdon's conversion, the progress of Mor- 
 monism was wonderfully rapid, he being a 
 man of more than common cunning and 
 capacity. It may be of interest here to 
 state, that a transcript on paper, of one of 
 the golden plates, having been submitted 
 to Prof. Charles Anthon, of New York, 
 for his inspection, that eminent scholar 
 gave, as his statement, that the paper was 
 in fact a kind of singular scroll, consisting 
 of all kinds of crooked characters, disposed 
 in columns, and had evidently been pre- 
 pared by some person who had before him 
 at the time a book containing various 
 alphabets, Greek, and Hebrew letters, 
 crosses and flourishes ; Roman letters, in- 
 verted or placed sideways, were arranged 
 and placed in perpendicular columns; and 
 the whole ended in a rude delineation of 
 a circle, divided into various compartments, 
 decked with various strange marks, and 
 evidently copied after the Mexican calen- 
 
 dar given by Humboldt, but copied in 
 such a way as not to betray the source. 
 
 The Mormon theology teaches that 
 there is one God, the Eternal Father, his 
 son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost ; 
 that men will be punished for their own 
 sins, and not for Adam's transgressions ; 
 that through the atonement of Christ, all 
 mankind may be saved by obedience to 
 the laws and ordinances of the gospel, 
 these ordinances being faith in the 
 Lord Jesus, repentance, baptism by im- 
 mersion for the remission of sins, lay- 
 ing on of hands by the gift of the Holy 
 Ghost, and the Lord's Supper ; that man 
 must be called of God by inspiration, and 
 
 by laying on of hands from those who 
 are duly commissioned to preach the gospel 
 and administer the ordinances thereof; 
 that the same organization that existed 
 in the primitive church, viz., apostles, 
 prophets, pastors, evangelists, etc., should 
 be maintained now ; that the powers 
 and gifts of faith, discerning of spirits, 
 prophecy, revelations, visions, healing, 
 tongues, and the interpretation of tongues, 
 still exist ; that the word of God is 
 recorded in the Bible, and iii the Book of 
 Mormon, and in all other good books ; 
 that there are now being revealed, and 
 will continue to be revealed, many more 
 great and important things pertaining to 
 the kingdom of God and Messiah's second 
 coming; that there is to be a literal 
 gathering of Israel, and the restoration of 
 the ten tribes; that Zion will be estab- 
 
EISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 217 
 
 lished upon the western continent; that 
 Christ will reign personally upon the 
 earth a thousand years, and the earth 
 will be renewed and receive its paradisiacal 
 glory ; that there is to be a literal resur- 
 rection of the body, and that the rest 
 of the dead live not again until the 
 thousand years have expired; that the 
 privilege belongs to all, of unmolested 
 worship of God, according to the dictates 
 of conscience ; that all persons are to be 
 subject to kings, queens, presidents, rulers, 
 and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and 
 sustaining the law ; that God, having be- 
 come nearly lost to man, revived his work, 
 by revealing himself to Joseph Smith, and 
 conferring upon him the keys of the ever- 
 lasting priesthood, thus making him the 
 mediator of a new dispensation, which is 
 immediately to precede the second coming 
 of Christ ; that all those who recognize the 
 divine authority of Smith, and are bap- 
 tized by one having authority, are the 
 chosen people of God, who are to intro- 
 duce the millennium, and to reign with 
 Christ, on the earth, a thousand years. The 
 doctrine of direct revelation from Heaven 
 was at first applied in a general sense, and 
 any one firm in the faith, and who stood 
 high in the church, received visions and 
 revelations. But this soon became trouble- 
 some, the revelations often clashed with 
 each other and led to many annoyances, 
 and the power of receiving revelations 
 was therefore, in course of time, confined 
 to the presidency, in whom the supreme 
 authority of the church rests. This presi- 
 dency consists of the president and his 
 two counselors ; the First President is, 
 however, supreme, and there is no resist- 
 ance to his decrees. Next in authority in 
 the church is the apostolic college, which 
 is composed of twelve apostles, who form 
 a kind of ecclesiastical senate, but a por- 
 tion of them are generally on missions, 
 taking charge of the different branches of 
 the church in other parts of the world. 
 After these come the high priests, who, 
 together with the elders, compose the 
 body politic of the church, whose duty it 
 is to carry out and enforce its decrees and 
 
 regulations. These high priests and elders 
 are divided into societies, called quorums 
 of seventies, and every quorum preserves 
 on its records a complete genealogy of 
 each of its members. 
 
 Among the dignitaries of the church, 
 the patriarch stands eminent. He holds 
 his office for life; all other stations are 
 filled with candidates nominated by the 
 presidency and elected annually in con- 
 vention by the body of the church. The 
 bishops also are conspicuous and important 
 officers, for it is their duty to collect the 
 tithing, to inspect once a week every 
 family in their ward or district, and to 
 examine strictly into their temporal and 
 spiritual affairs. In order to do this more 
 thoroughly, each bishop is assisted by two 
 counselors. The bishop also adjudicates 
 and settles all difficulties occurring be- 
 tween persons residing in his ward, though 
 from his decision an appeal can be made 
 to the high council. This is a tribunal 
 consisting of fifteen men selected from 
 among the high priests, twelve of whom 
 sit as jurors and hear the testimony of 
 witnesses in the case, and then by voting 
 make a decision a majority on one side 
 or the other deciding the question ; the 
 remaining three, as judges, render judg- 
 ment as to the costs or punishment. From 
 this court the only appeal is to the presi- 
 dency. 
 
 The first regularly constituted church 
 of the Mormon faith was organized in 
 Manchester, N. Y., April sixth, 1830, and 
 from this time and event dates the Mor- 
 mon era. It began with six members or 
 elders being ordained, viz., Joseph Smith, 
 sen., Hyrum Smith, Joseph Smith, jr., 
 Samuel Smith, Oliver Cowdery, Joseph 
 Knight. The sacrament was adminis- 
 tered, and hands were laid on for the gift 
 of the Holy Ghost on this first occasion in 
 the church. The first public discourse 
 was preached by Cowdery, setting forth 
 the principles of the gospel as revealed to 
 Smith, April eleventh ; and during the 
 same month the first miracle was per- 
 formed, " by the power of God," in Coles- 
 ville, K Y. 
 
218 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 On the first of June, 1830, the first con- 
 ference of the church was held at Fayette, 
 N. Y., and soon after, Messrs. Pratt and 
 Rigdon united publicly with the order. 
 Meanwhile, converts multiplied rapidly. 
 
 Early in 1831, Smith set out for Kirt- 
 land, Ohio, which, for a time, became the 
 chief city of his followers. The elders 
 soon received command to go forth in pairs 
 and preach, the Melchizedek or superior 
 priesthood being first conferred upon them 
 in June. A considerable body of Mor- 
 mons transferred themselves to Jackson 
 county, Missouri, in the summer of this 
 year. So rapidly did their numbers aug- 
 ment in this region, that the older settlers 
 became alarmed, and held public meetings 
 protesting against the continuance of the 
 sect in their neighborhood. Among the 
 resolutions passed at these meetings was 
 one requiring the Mormon paper to be 
 stopped, but, as this was not immediately 
 complied with, the office of the paper was 
 destroyed. Finally, they agreed to re- 
 move from that county into Clay county, 
 across the Missouri, before doing which, 
 
 however, houses were destroyed, men 
 whipped, and some lives were lost on both 
 sides. 
 
 These outrages, according to the annals 
 given by Perkins, kindled the wrath of 
 the prophet at Kirtland, who took steps to 
 bring about a great gathering of his 
 
 disciples, and, marshaling them as an 
 army, in May, 1834, he started for Mis- 
 souri, which in due time he reached, but 
 with no other result than the transfer of a 
 certain portion of his followers as per- 
 manent residents in a section already too 
 full of them. At first, the citizens of 
 Clay county were friendly to the perse- 
 cuted ; but ere long, trouble grew up, and 
 .the wanderers were once more forced to 
 seek a new home, to insure their safety. 
 This home they found in Caldwell county, 
 where, by permission of the neighbors and 
 state legislature, they organized a county 
 government, the country having been pre- 
 viously unsettled. 
 
 In addition to the stirring scenes al- 
 ready recorded, some of the more important 
 events in the history and continued prog- 
 ress of this sect may be stated briefly as 
 follows. The year 1832 was distinguished 
 by the tarring and feathering of Smith 
 and Rigdon by a mob, for attempting to 
 establish communism, and for alleged dis- 
 honorable dealing, forgery, and swindling, 
 in connection with the Kirtland Safety 
 Society Bank, founded by them; 
 the conversion of Mr. Brigham 
 Young, and his baptism by Eleazer 
 Millard, also the baptism of Mr. 
 Heber C. Kimball; and the es- 
 tablishment of the first Mormon 
 periodical, by Mr. W. W. Phelps. 
 In 1833, the gift of tongues 
 was conferred ; the re-translation 
 of the bible finished; Bishop 
 Partridge became the ecclesias- 
 tical head of the church in Zion ; 
 the 'Missouri Enquirer' was es- 
 tablished by Messrs. Davis and 
 Kelley. At a conference of 
 elders in Kirtland, May 3, 1834, 
 the body ecclesiastic was first 
 named "The Church of Jesus 
 Christ of Latter-Day Saints." In 1835, 
 a quorum of twelve apostles was organized, 
 among whom were Brigham Young and 
 H. C. Kimball, the former, being then 
 thirty-four years old, assuming the head- 
 ship of the apostolic college, and, receiv- 
 ing the gift of tongues, was sent on a 
 
EISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 219 
 
 missionary tour toward the east. Young 
 was so devoted a disciple of Mormonism, 
 that lie said of Smith, its founder : 
 
 " The doctrine he teaches is all I know 
 about the matter ; bring anything against 
 that, if you can. As to anything else, I 
 do not care if he acts like a devil ; he has 
 brought forth a doctrine that will save us, 
 if we will abide by it. He may get drunk 
 every day of his life, sleep with his neigh- 
 bor's wife every night, run horses and 
 gamble ; I do not care anything about 
 that, for I never embrace any man in my 
 faith." 
 
 Rigdon was equally bold and lawless ; 
 who declared, in behalf of the prophet and 
 his followers, in a sermon preached at 
 Far West, to a great concourse, 
 
 " "We take God and all the holy angels 
 to witness this day, that we warn all men, 
 in the name of Jesus Christ, to come on 
 us no more forever. The man, or the set 
 of men, who attempts it, does it at the 
 expense of their lives. And that mob that 
 comes on us to disturb us, it shall be 
 between them and us a war of extermina- 
 tion, for we will follow them till the last 
 drop of their blood is spilled, or else they 
 will have to exterminate us. For we will 
 carry the seat of war to their own houses 
 and their own families, and one party or 
 the other shall be utterly destroyed." 
 
 On the 20th of July, 1837, Elders Kim- 
 ball, Hyde, Richards, Goodson, Russell, 
 and Priest Fielding, sailed from New 
 York for Liverpool, to preach and propa- 
 gate Mormonism, and proselytes multi- 
 plied, especially in northern Europe, so 
 plausibly was Smith's imposture set be- 
 fore them; multitudes of these converts, 
 male and female, emigrated to the " prom- 
 ised land." The next year was dis- 
 tinguished by continued scenes of violence, 
 attended with bloodshed and death, be- 
 tween the people of Missouri and the 
 Mormons, among the killed being Captain 
 Fearnot, alias Patten, leader of the Danite 
 band. Smith, and his brother Hyrum, 
 together with such kindred spirits as 
 Young, Phelps, Pratt, Hedlock, Turley, 
 Rockwell, Higbee, were particularly ob- 
 
 noxious to the hatred of the Missourians ; 
 and, throughout all the western states, no 
 curse that could come upon a neighbor- 
 hood was considered so great as that of the 
 advent of Mormon settlers. 
 
 Early in the summer of 1839, Smith 
 visited the town of Commerce, in Illinois, 
 at the invitation of Dr. Isaac Galland, of 
 whom he obtained, gratis, a large tract of 
 land, to induce the Mormons to immigrate, 
 and upon receipt of revelation called his 
 people around him, and sold them the 
 town lots. This place was afterward called 
 Nauvoo, "the beautiful site," and soon 
 numbered thousands of souls ; the build- 
 ing of the famous temple was commenced 
 the next year. Polygamy dates from 
 about this time, being authorized as 
 Smith's privilege, according to a " revela- 
 tion" received by him. Smith was re- 
 peatedly arrested in 1842-3-4, on charges 
 of murder, treason, and adultery, but 
 managed either to escape or be acquitted, 
 until the fatal summer of 1844. The 
 greatest crimes charged against him were 
 those testified to by some of his once 
 devoted but afterwards disgusted and 
 seceding disciples, and who would have 
 been glad to execute summary vengeance 
 upon his head. 
 
 The exasperation produced by the Mor- 
 mons murdering Lieutenant Governor 
 Boggs (under Governor Dunklin), of Mis- 
 souri, in May, 1843, was widespread and 
 most intense, and the swarming of the 
 sect into Illinois, caused the inhabitants of 
 the latter to arm themselves. Governor 
 Ford, of Illinois, persuaded the Smiths, 
 under pledge of his word, to yield up their 
 arms, and sent them prisoners, under 
 the charge of sixty militia men, to Car- 
 thage. Here the prisoners were at once 
 arrested for treason. Instead of being 
 confined in cells, the two Smiths, at the 
 instance of their friends, were put into 
 the debtors' room of the prison, and a 
 guard assigned for their security. But, 
 on the 27th of June, 1844, a large body 
 of exasperated and lawless men, with their 
 faces painted and blackened, broke into 
 the jail, and summarily killed both Joseph 
 
220 
 
 RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 and Hyrum Smith, and instantly fled. In 
 his struggle against the mob, the prophet 
 attempted, as a last resort, to leap from the 
 window, when two balls pierced him from 
 the door, one of which entered his right 
 breast, and he staggered lifeless, exclaim- 
 ing, ' Lord, my God!' He fell on his 
 left side, a dead man. The excitement in 
 all parts of the west, following this event, 
 was tremendous. 
 
 An address was now sent forth to "all 
 the saints in the world," announcing, with 
 lamentations, the death of "the Lord's 
 Prophet." Brigham Young, a native of 
 Whittingham, Vt., succeeded to the presi- 
 dency, thus defeating Rigdon, who claimed 
 the office, but who was forthwith cut off, 
 and delivered over to the 'buffetings of 
 Satan.' The next great step was the 
 abandonment of Nauvoo, on account of the 
 bitter hostility of the Illinoisians to the 
 existence of Mormonism in their midst. 
 Nauvoo was a city regularly laid out with 
 broad streets crossing at right angles, and 
 the houses were built generally of logs, 
 with a few frame and brick buildings 
 interspersed. A temple, one hundred and 
 thirty feet long by ninety wide, was 
 
 MORMON TEMPLE. 
 
 erected of polished limestone ; the bap- 
 tistry was in the basement, and held a 
 large stone basin supported by twelve 
 colossal oxen. In 1848, this building was 
 set on fire by an incendiary, and all con- 
 sumed except the walls, which were finally 
 destroyed by a tornado, in 1850. 
 
 The valley of the Great Salt Lake, in 
 Utah, now became the new "promised 
 
 land " of the exiled Mormons, and, cross- 
 ing the frozen Mississippi in the winter of 
 1846, the exodus began ; in the summer 
 ensuing, they commenced io lay the 
 foundations of the city, the " New Jeru- 
 salem." Soon after, the whole of this vast 
 region was surveyed by Messrs. Stansbury 
 and Gunnison, by order of the federal 
 government, and a bill organizing Utah 
 into a Territory having been signed by 
 President Pillmore, Brigham Young was 
 appointed governor, and thus became the 
 supreme head of the church and state. 
 He has ruled with consummate tact and 
 success, overcoming all opposition from 
 " Gentile " sources, and even, keeping at 
 bay the national government itself. He 
 declared, " / am, and will be, governor, 
 and no power on earth can hinder it, until 
 the Lord Almighty says, ' Briyham, you 
 need not be governor any longer.' " Under 
 his teachings and practice, polygamy be- 
 came firmly established and universal, the 
 prohibitory laws of the United States in 
 this matter being openly defied. His 
 conduct he defended in powerful harangues 
 to the faithful, who were always ready, at 
 the word of command, to fight or murder, 
 in behalf of their political a*)d spiritual 
 chief, if occasion required. Their sec- 
 tarian literature has been very voluminous, 
 and has appeared in almost every language ; 
 for even in the old world throughout 
 Europe, as also in Asia, Africa, Australia, ' 
 and Polynesia, scores of thousands of the 
 simple-minded have become dupes of the 
 itinerant impostors sent forth from head- 
 quarters to convert the " gentile " world. 
 Of Young, personally, the description 
 usually given is that of a man rather 
 above the medium height and somewhat 
 corpulent, with a face indicative of pene- 
 tration and firmness ; hair parted on the 
 side, and reaching below the ears with a 
 half curl ; the forehead somewhat narrow, 
 thin eyebrows, the eyes between gray and 
 blue, with a calm, composed, and some- 
 what reserved expression ; nose, fine and 
 sharp-pointed, and bent a little to the left; 
 lips close, the lower one evincing the 
 sensual voluptuary; cheeks rather fleshy, 
 
EISE AND PROGRESS OF THE MORMONS. 
 
 221 
 
 SALT LAKE CITY, THE MORMON ZION. 
 
 the side line between the nose and 
 the mouth considerably broken, and the 
 chin peaked ; hands well made ; the whole 
 figure large, broad-shouldered, and stoop- 
 ing a little when standing. In dress, no 
 Quaker could be neater or plainer, all 
 gray homespun, except the cravat and 
 waistcoat ; the coat of antique cut, and, 
 like the pantaloons, baggy, and the but- 
 tons black ; a neck-tie of dark silk, with 
 a large bow, was loosely passed around a 
 gtarchless collar, which turned down of its 
 own accord ; the -waistcoat of black satin 
 once an article of almost national dress 
 single-breasted, and buttoned nearly to 
 the neck, and a plain gold chain passed 
 into the pocket. In manner, affable and 
 impressive, simple and courteous, exciting 
 in strangers a consciousness of his power. 
 The number of his wives was never known 
 by any person but himself ; and the multi- 
 tude of his children, thus born into the 
 world, constituted his chief boast. Those 
 who would like to know more of the 
 details of a Mormon prophet's harem will 
 find them amply portrayed in the works 
 of Burton, Ferris, Waite, Bowles, Colfax, 
 and other travelers in that region. 
 
 Salt Lake City, about two thousand 
 miles west of New York, is situated on 
 the east bank of the river Jordan, a stream 
 which connects Great Salt Lake and Lake 
 Utah ; it is separated as well from the 
 western frontier as from the Pacific coast, 
 by dreary, timberless prairies, sand plains, 
 and high mountains, the mountains on 
 the east side being covered with perpetual 
 
 snow, and their summits are nearly two 
 miles above the level of the sea. Thus, 
 the Mormons form an isolated people, 
 and their home is almost shut out from 
 the rest of mankind. The city was laid 
 out so as to contain two hundred and 
 sixty blocks of ten acres each, divided 
 into eight lots and four public squares ; 
 the streets, one hundred and twenty-eight 
 feet wide, and a stream of water flowing 
 through each, for the purpose of irrigat- 
 ing the gardens ; and the squares being 
 adorned with trees from the four quarters 
 of the globe, and adorned with fountains. 
 The houses are built of sun-dried brick, 
 and are generally small and of one story, 
 with separate entrances where there are 
 several wives. The great temple, built in 
 the Gothic style, is one hundred and fifty 
 feet long and sixty feet wide. One of the 
 largest buildings is the tithing-house, 
 where is deposited one-tenth of all the 
 products of the territory for the benefit 
 of the church. Almost " all the authorities 
 of Zion " live in this, the great city 
 thereof, with families comprising from 
 twenty-five to two wives each, and there 
 are many more girls than boys born. The 
 population is composed largely of English, 
 Scotch, Welsh and Danes. In the taber- 
 nacle, a large public building, the people 
 assemble on the Sabbath, to hear the 
 Mormon gospel preached by the prophet 
 and his coadjutors. In another building, 
 called the Endowment House, the secret 
 orders, sacred ordinances, and solemn mys- 
 teries of Mormonism are administered. 
 
XXVII. 
 
 CAREER, CAPTURE, AND EXECUTION OF GIBBS, THE 
 MOST NOTED PIRATE OF THE CENTURY. 1831. 
 
 His Bold, Enterprising, Desperate, and Successful War, for Many Years, Against the Commerce of all 
 Nations. Terror inspired by His Name as the Scourge of the Ocean and the Enemy of Mankind. 
 Scores of Vessels Taken, Plundered, and Destroyed. Their Crews and Passengers, Male and Female, 
 Instantly Butchered. Gibbs Born in Rhode Island Joins the Privateer Maria. Captures Her in a 
 Mutiny. Hoists the Black Flag. Gibbs Chosen Leader. Rendezvous at Cape Antonio. Booty 
 Sold in Havana. No Lives Spared. One Beautiful Girl Excepted. Atrocious Use Made of Her. 
 The Maria Chased All Day. Her Final Abandonment. A New Craft: Rich Prizes Fight with a 
 United States Frigate. Gibbs Overmatched and Flees Fatal Voyage in the Vineyard. Lands at 
 Southampton, L. I. His Infamy Brought to Light. Arrested With His Treasure. Confession of 
 His Guilt. Black Record of Crime and Blood. Close of Hi Ill-S tarred Life. 
 
 ' Leading a pirate's crew, 
 O'er the dark pea I flow. 
 Wild wn the life we led. 
 Many the eouls that Bped. 
 Many the hearts that bled, 
 
 By our Btern ordert." 
 
 APPEAL OF A GIEL TO GIBBS TO SPABB HER LIFE. 
 
 OX/WITHSTANDING a new generation 
 has come upon the stage of human af- 
 fairs, since " GIBBS, the pirate," startled 
 the world by his bold and atrocious 
 career on the high seas, his deeds are 
 still read of, rehearsed, and listened to, 
 \ with the same wondering interest and 
 involuntary shudder,, as when, in the 
 days of their actual occurrence, they broke 
 fresh upon the ears of an astonished and 
 outraged community ; a career which, in 
 spite of the destiny that inevitably awaits 
 such a course of crime against mankind, 
 seemed for years to defy and baffle all the 
 efforts of pursuit and of retributive justice. 
 From the various accessible resources of 
 information concerning this notorious 
 adept in piracy and blood, it appears that 
 his native place was Providence, R. I., his 
 real name, James D. Jeffers, having been 
 given up, and that of Charles Gibbs sub- 
 stituted. Bearing this name, at the very 
 
CAREER OF GIBBS, THE NOTED PIRATE. 
 
 223 
 
 mention of which mankind would after- 
 wards shudder, he became, in the widest 
 and most ghastly sense of the term, ever 
 applied to man, the Scourge of the Ocean. 
 
 In November, 1830, there sailed from 
 New Orleans for Philadelphia, the brig 
 Vineyard, Captain William Thornby, with 
 William Roberts as mate, and the follow- 
 ing crew : Charles Gibbs, John Brownrigg, 
 Robert Dawes, Henry Atwell, James 
 Talbot, A. Church, and Thomas I. Wans- 
 ley, a young negro native of Delaware, 
 who acted as cook. When the Vinej'ard 
 had been five days at sea, Wansley made it 
 known to the crew that there were fifty 
 thousand dollars in specie on board. This 
 information excited their cupidity, and 
 induced them to secretly consult as to 
 whether and how they could get the money 
 into their own hands. Many conversa- 
 tions took place on the subject, and while 
 these were going on, Dawes, who was a 
 mere boy, was sent to converse with the 
 officers, in order to divert their attention 
 from what was passing. 
 
 Finally, the resolution was taken, that 
 as the master and mate were old men, it 
 was time they should die and make room 
 for the rising generation. Moreover, they 
 were of the opinion that as the mate was 
 of a peevish disposition, he deserved death. 
 It does not appear, however, that Brown- 
 rigg or Talbot had any part in these plans, 
 or in the foul deed that resulted from 
 them. The conspirators agreed to commit 
 the fiendish crimes of murder and piracy, 
 on the night of the twenty-third. The 
 murder of the master was, by agreement, 
 to Gibbs and Wansley, and that of the 
 mate to Atwell and Church. This plan 
 was carried out. 
 
 The pirates took possession of the vessel, 
 and Wansley busied himself in wiping up 
 the blood that had been spilled on deck, 
 declaring, with an oath, that though he 
 had heard that the stains of the blood of a 
 murdered person could not be effaced, he 
 would wipe away these. Then, after 
 drinking all round, they got up the money. 
 It was distributed in equal portions to all 
 on board; Brownrigg and Talbot being 
 
 assured that, if they would keep the secret, 
 and share the plunder, they should receive 
 no injury. 
 
 They then steered a north-easterly 
 course toward Long Island, till they came 
 within fifteen or twenty miles of South- 
 ampton light, where they resolved to leave 
 the vessel and take to the boats, though 
 the wind was blowing very hard. Atwell 
 scuttled the brig and got into the jolly- 
 boat with Church and Talbot, while 
 Gibbs, Wanslej', Dawes, and Brownrigg, 
 put off in the long-boat. The jolly-boat 
 swamped on a bar two miles from the 
 shore, and all on board were drowned. 
 The long-boat was also in great danger, 
 and was only saved from a like fate by 
 throwing over several bags of specie. Nev- 
 ertheless, the crew at last got on shore at 
 Pelican Island, where they buried their 
 money, and found a sportsman who told 
 them where they were. They then crossed 
 to Great Barn Island, and went to the 
 house of a Mr. Johnson, to whom Brown- 
 rigg gave the proper information. Thence 
 they went to the house of a Mr. Leonard, 
 where they procured a wagon to carry 
 them farther. As they were about to get 
 in, Brownrigg cried aloud that they might 
 go where they pleased, but he would not 
 accompany them, for they were murderers. 
 On hearing this, Mr. Leonard obtained the 
 presence of a magistrate, and Gibbs and 
 Dawes were apprehended. Wansley es- 
 caped into the woods, but was followed 
 and soon taken. The maritime, and 
 indeed the whole civilized world, breathed 
 freer, when the news spread abroad of the 
 great pirate's capture. 
 
 The evidence of the guilt of the accused 
 was full and conclusive. Their own con- 
 fession of the crime, voluntarily made to 
 Messrs. Merritt and Stevenson, who had 
 the custody of them from Flatbush to New 
 York, could have left not the shadow of a 
 doubt on the mind of any person who heard 
 the testimony of those officers. Wansley 
 told the whole story, occasionally prompted 
 by Gibbs; and while both admitted that 
 Brownrigg was innocent, their confession 
 was not so favorable as to Dawes. 
 
224 
 
 CAREER OF GIBBS, THE NOTED PIRATE. 
 
 Gibbs was arraigned for the murder of 
 William Roberts, and Wansley for that of 
 Captain Thornby, and, being found guilty, 
 judgment in accordance with the law was 
 pronounced. During the trial, the iron 
 visage of Gibbs was occasionally changed 
 by a transient emotion ; he had evidently 
 abandoned all hope of escape, and sat the 
 greater part of his time with his hands 
 between his knees, calmly surveying the 
 scene before him. Wansley was more 
 agitated, and trembled visibly when he 
 rose to hear the verdict of the jury. 
 
 And now, as was to be expected, there 
 was revealed the bloody annals of Gibbs's 
 ill-starred career. 
 
 PIRATE GIBBS. 
 
 It was in the latter part of 1813, that 
 he entered on board a ship bound to New 
 Orleans and thence to Stockholm. On the 
 homeward passage they were forced to put 
 into Bristol, England, in distress, where 
 the ship was condemned, and he proceeded 
 to Liverpool. He returned to the United 
 States in the ship Amity, Captain Max- 
 well. Shortly after his arrival home, the 
 death of an uncle put him in possession 
 of about two thousand dollars, with which 
 he established himself in the grocery busi- 
 ness in Boston, an undertaking which did 
 not prove profitable, so that he was often 
 under the necessity of applying to his 
 father for assistance, which was always 
 afforded, together with the best advice. 
 The stock was finally sold at auction, for 
 about nine hundred dollars, which he soon 
 squandered in tippling-houses and among 
 profligates. His father, hearing of his 
 dissipation, wrote affectionately to him to 
 come home, but he stubbornly refused, and 
 again turned his attention to the sea. 
 
 Sailing in the ship John, Captain Brown, 
 bound for the island of Margaretta, he 
 left the ship soon after its arrival at that 
 place, and entered on board the Colombian 
 privateer Maria, Captain Bell. They 
 cruised for about two months in the Gulf 
 of Mexico, around Cuba, but the crew 
 becoming dissatisfied in consequence of 
 the non-payment of their prize-money, a 
 mutiny arose, the crew took possession ef 
 the schooner, and landed the officers near 
 Pensacola. A number of days elapsed 
 before it was finally decided by them what 
 course to pursue. Some advised that they 
 should cruise as before, under the Colom- 
 bian commission; others proposed to hoist 
 the black flag. They cruised for a short 
 time without success, and it was then 
 unanimously determined to hoist the black 
 flay, and wage war against the commerce 
 of all nations. Their bloody purpose, 
 however, was not carried into full and 
 immediate execution; for, though they 
 boarded a number of vessels, they allowed 
 them to pass unmolested, there being no 
 specie on board, and their cargoes not 
 being convertible into anything valuable 
 to themselves. 
 
 At last, one of the crew, named Anto- 
 nio, suggested that an arrangement could 
 be made with a man in Havana, that 
 would be mutually beneficial ; that he 
 would receive all their goods, sell them, 
 and divide the proceeds. This plan being 
 received favorably, they ran up within 
 two miles of Moro Castle, and sent Anto- 
 nio on shore to see the merchant and make 
 a contract with him. Previous to this, 
 Gibbs was chosen to navigate the vessel. 
 Antonio succeeded in arranging every- 
 thing according to their wishes, and Cape 
 Antonio was appointed to be the place of 
 rendezvous. The merchant was to furnish 
 facilities for transporting the goods to 
 Havana, which he did for more than three 
 years. 
 
 The Maria now put to sea, with a crew 
 of about fifty men, mostly Spaniards and 
 Americans, with every expectation of suc- 
 cess. The first vessel she fell in with was 
 the Indispensable, an English ship bound 
 
CAREER OF GIBBS, THE NOTED PIRATE. 
 
 225 
 
 to Havana, which was taken and carried 
 to Cape Antonio. The crew were imme- 
 diately destroyed ; those who resisted were 
 hacked to pieces; those who offered no 
 resistance were reserved to be shot and 
 thrown overboard. The maxitn to which 
 they scrupulously adhered, was, that 'dead 
 -men tell no tales' According to Gibbs's 
 statement, he never had occasion to give 
 orders to begin the work of death. The 
 Spaniards were eager to accomplish that 
 object without delay, and generally every 
 unhappy victim disappeared in a very feiv 
 minutes after the pirates' feet trod the 
 deck of the fated vessel. 
 
 Gibbs now directed his course towards 
 the Bahama Banks, where they captured a 
 brig, believed to be the William, of New 
 York, from some port in Mexico, with a 
 cargo of furniture, destroyed the crew, took 
 the vessel to Cape Antonio, and sent the 
 furniture and other articles to their accom- 
 plice in Havana. Sometime during this 
 cruise, the pirate was chased for nearly a 
 whole day, by a United States frigate, 
 supposed to be the John Adams; he 
 hoisted patriot colors, and finally escaped. 
 In the early part of the summer of 1817, 
 they took the Earl of Moria, an English 
 ship from London, with a cargo of dry- 
 goods. The crew were destroyed, the 
 vessel burnt, and the goods carried to the 
 Cape ; here the pirates had a settlement 
 with their Havana agent, and the proceeds 
 were divided according to agreement. 
 Gibbs repaired personally to Havana, in- 
 troduced himself to the merchant, and 
 made arrangements for the successful pros- 
 ecution of his piracies. While there, he 
 became acquainted with many of the En- 
 glish and American naval officers, and, 
 adroitly concealing his own character and 
 calling, inquired respecting the success of 
 their various expeditions for the suppres- 
 sion of piracy, and all their intended 
 movements ! 
 
 On the return to Cape Antonio, Gibbs 
 found his comrades in a state of mutiny 
 and rebellion, and that several of them had 
 been killed. His energy checked the dis- 
 turbance, and all agreed to submit to his 
 15 
 
 orders, and put any one to death who 
 should dare to disobey them. 
 
 During the cruise which was made in 
 the latter part of 1817 and the beginning 
 of 1818, a Dutch ship from Curacoa was 
 captured, with a cargo of West India 
 goods, and a quantity of silver plate. The 
 passengers and crew, to the number of 
 thirty, were all killed, with the exception 
 of a young and beautiful female, about 
 seventeen, who, in the midst of the awful 
 scene of death-blows and shrieks and man- 
 gled corpses, kneeled upon the gory deck, 
 and piteously implored Gibbs to save her 
 life! The appeal was successful; and he 
 promised to save her, though he knew it 
 would lead to dangerous consequences 
 among his crew. She was carried to Cape 
 Antonio, and kept there about two months ; 
 but the dissatisfaction increased until it 
 broke out at last into open mutiny, and 
 one of the pirates was shot by Gibbs for 
 daring to lay hold of her with a view to 
 beating out her brains. Gibbs was com- 
 pelled, however, in the end, to submit her 
 fate to a council of war, at which it was 
 decided that the preservation of their own 
 lives made her sacrifice indispensable. He 
 therefore acquiesced in the decision, and 
 gave orders to have her destroyed by 
 poison, which was immediately adminis- 
 tered to her, and thus the young, beautiful, 
 and unfortunate creature was launched 
 into the other world. 
 
 Shortly after this, the piratical schooner 
 was driven ashore near the Cape, and so 
 much damaged that it was found necessary 
 to destroy her. A new, sharp-built 
 schooner was in consequence provided by 
 their faithful ally in Havana, called the 
 Picciana, and dispatched to their rendez- 
 vous. 
 
 In this vessel, they cruised successfully 
 for more than four years. Among the 
 vessels taken and destroyed and their 
 crews and passengers remorselessly hurried 
 into eternity were the Belvidere, Dido, a 
 Dutch brig, the British barque Larch, and 
 many others. 
 
 Gibbs further stated that he had been 
 concerned in robbing forty different ves- 
 
226 
 
 CAJiEEIt OF GIBBS, THE NOTED P1KATE. 
 
 GIBBS BUTCifEKIXG THE CREW OF ONE OF HIS PHIZES. 
 
 sels. He gave the names of upwards of a 
 score of vessels taken by the pirates under 
 his command, the crews of which had been 
 murdered. 
 
 Sometime in the course of the year 
 1819, Gibbs left Havana for the United 
 States, carrying with him about thirty 
 thousand dollars. He passed several 
 weeks in New York, and then went to 
 Boston, whence he took passage for Liver- 
 pool, in the ship Emerald. Before he 
 sailed, however, he had squandered a large 
 part of his money in dissipation and gam- 
 bling. He Remained in Liverpool a few 
 months, and then returned to Boston iii 
 the ship Topaz. His residence in Liver- 
 
 pool, at that time, was testified to by a 
 female in New York, who was well 
 acquainted with him there, and where, as 
 she stated, he lived like a wealthy gentle- 
 man. In speaking of his acquaintance 
 with this female, Gibbs said : 
 
 " I fell in with a woman, who, I thought, 
 was all virtue, but she deceived me, and I 
 am sorry to say that a heart that never 
 felt abashed at scenes of carnage and 
 blood, was made a child of, for a time, by 
 her, and I gave way to dissipation and 
 torment. How often, when the fumes of 
 liquor have subsided, have I thought of 
 my good and affectionate parents, and of 
 their godly advice ! But when the little 
 
CAREER OF GIBBS, THE NOTED PIRATE. 
 
 227 
 
 monitor began to move within me, I imme- 
 diately seized the cup to hide myself from 
 myself, and drank until the sense of intoxi- 
 cation was renewed. My friends advised 
 me to behave like a man, and promised me 
 their assistance, but the demon still 
 haunted me, and I spurned their advice." 
 
 He readily admitted his participation in 
 the Vineyard mutiny, revolt and robbery, 
 and in the murder of Thornby ; and, so 
 impressed was he with the universal detes- 
 tation and horror which his heinous crimes 
 had excited against him, that he often 
 inquired if he should not be murdered in 
 the streets, in case he had his liberty, and 
 was recognized. He would also frequently 
 exclaim, ' Oh, if I had got into Algiers, 
 I should never have been in this prison, 
 to be hung for murder ! " 
 
 Though he gave no evidence of contri- 
 tion for the horrible and multiplied crimes 
 of which he confessed himself guilty, yet 
 he evidently dwelt upon their recollection 
 with great unwillingness. If a question 
 was asked him, in regard to how the crews 
 were generally destroyed, he answered 
 quickly and briefly, and instantly changed 
 the topic either to the circumstances 
 attending his trial, or to his exploits in 
 Buenos Ayres. On being asked why with 
 such cruelty he killed so many persons, 
 after getting all their money, which was 
 all he wanted, he replied that the laws 
 themselves were responsible for so many 
 murders ; that, by those laws, a man has 
 to suffer death for piracy, and the punish- 
 ment for murder is no more, besides, all 
 witnesses are out of the way, and, conse- 
 quently, if the punishment was different, 
 there would not be so many murders. 
 
 On Friday, April twenty-second, 1831, 
 
 Gibbs and Wansley paid the penalty of 
 their crimes. Both prisoners arrived at 
 the gallows about twelve o'clock, accom- 
 panied by the marshal, his aids, and a 
 body of United States marines. Two 
 clergymen attended them to the fatal spot, 
 where, everything being in readiness, the 
 ropes were adjusted about their necks, and 
 prayers offered. Gibbs addressed the 
 spectators, acknowledging the heinousness 
 of his career, and adding 
 
 " Should any of the friends of those 
 whom I have been accessory to, or engaged 
 in, the murder of, be now present, before 
 my Maker I beg their forgiveness it is 
 the only boon I ask and, as I hope for 
 pardon through the blood of Christ, surely 
 this request will not be withheld by man, 
 from a worm, like myself, standing, as I 
 do, on the very verge of eternity ! An- 
 other moment, and I cease to exist and 
 could I find in my bosom room to imagine 
 that the spectators now assembled had 
 forgiven me, the scaffold would have no 
 terrors. My first crime was piracy, for 
 which my life would pay the forfeit on 
 conviction; no punishment could be 
 inflicted on me farther than that, and 
 therefore I had nothing to fear but detec- 
 tion, for had my offenses been millions of 
 times more aggravated than they now are, 
 death must have satisfied all." 
 
 Gibbs shook hands with Wansley, the 
 officers and clergymen, the caps were then 
 drawn over the faces of the two criminals, 
 and a handkerchief dropped by Gibbs as a 
 signal to the executioner caused the cord 
 to be severed, and in an instant they were 
 suspended in air. Wansley expired with 
 only a few slight struggles. Gibbs died 
 hard. 
 
XXVIII. 
 
 SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER ALL OVER THE UNITED 
 
 STATES. 1833. 
 
 The Most Grand and Brilliant Celestial Phenomenon Ever Beheld and Recorded by Man. The Whole 
 Firmament of the Universe in Fiery Commotion for Several Hours. Amazing Velocity, Size, and 
 Profusion of the Falling Bodies. Their Intense Heat, Vivid Colors, and Strange, Glowing Beauty. 
 Unequaled in Every Respect. Cloudless Serenity of the Sky. The People Wonder-Struck. 
 Admiration Among the Intelligent. Alarm Among the Ignorant Conflagration of the World 
 Feared. Impromptu Prayer-Meetings. Prodigious Star-Shower at Boston. Myriads of Blood-Red 
 Fire-Balls. The Display at Niagara Falls. Blazing Heavens, Roaring Cataracts. Some of the 
 Meteors Explode. Trains of Light in their Track. Radiant Prismatic Hues. Substance Compos- 
 ing these Bodies. Dissipated by Bursting. One Great Central Source. Velocity, Four Miles a 
 Second. Novel Shapes and Motions. Hotter than the Hottest Furnace. Possible Result to th 
 Earth. Half a Continent in Presumed Jeopardy. 
 
 " the sanguine flood 
 
 Boiled n broad slaughter o'er the plains of heaven, 
 And nature's self did seem to totter on the brink of lima." 
 
 ^TENSIVE and magnificent showers of shooting stars have been known 
 to occur at various places in modern times ; but the most universal and 
 wonderful which has ever been recorded is that 
 of the thirteenth of November, 1833, the whole 
 firmament, over all the United States, being 
 then, for hours, in fiery commotion ! No celestial 
 phenomenon has ever occurred in this country, since 
 its first settlement, which was viewed with such in- 
 tense admiration by one class in the community, or 
 with so much dread and alarm by another. It was 
 the all-engrossing theme of conversation and of 
 scientific disquisition, for weeks and months. In- 
 deed, it could not be otherwise, than that such a 
 rare phenomenon, next in grandeur and sublimity 
 to that of a total solar eclipse, or a great comet 
 stretched athwart the starry heavens, in full view 
 of a wonder-struck universe, should awaken the 
 deepest interest among all beholding it. Nor is the 
 memory of this marvelous scene yet extinct ; its 
 sublimity and awful beauty still linger in many minds, who also remember well the 
 terror with which the demonstration was regarded, and the mortal fear excited among 
 the ignorant that the end of the world had come. During the three hours of its con- 
 
 METEORIC SHOWER AT BOSTON. 
 
SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER. 
 
 229 
 
 tinuance, the day of judgment was be- 
 lieved to be only waiting for sunrise, and, 
 long after the shower had ceased, the 
 morbid and superstitious still were im- 
 pressed with the idea that the final day 
 was at least only a week ahead. Impromptu 
 meetings for prayer were held in many 
 places, and many other scenes of religious 
 devotion, or terror, or abandonment of 
 worldly affairs, transpired, under the in- 
 fluence of fear occasioned by so sudden 
 and awful a display. 
 
 But, though in many districts the mass 
 of the population were thus panic-stricken, 
 through fear, as well as want of familiarity 
 with the history of such appearances, the 
 more enlightened were profoundly awed 
 at contemplating so vivid a picture of the 
 apocalyptic image that of 'the stars of 
 heaven falling to the earth, even as a fig 
 tree casting her untimely figs, when she is 
 shaken of a mighty wind.' In describing 
 the effect of this phenomenon upon the 
 black population, a southern planter says : 
 
 'I was suddenly awakened by the most 
 distressing cries that ever fell on my ears. 
 Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy, 
 could be heard from most of the negroes of 
 three plantations, amounting in all to some 
 six or eight hundred. While earnestly 
 and breathlessly listening for the cause, I 
 heard a faint voice near the door calling 
 my name. I arose, and, taking my sword, 
 stood at the door. At this moment I 
 heard the same voice still beseeching me 
 to rise, and saying, " 0, my God, the world 
 is on fire! " I then opened the door, and 
 it is difficult to say which excited me most 
 the awfulness of the scene, or the dis- 
 tressed cries of the negroes. Upwards of 
 one hundred lay prostrate on the ground, 
 some speechless, and others uttering the 
 bitterest moans, but with their hands 
 raised, imploring God to save the world 
 and them. The scene was truly awful, for 
 never did rain fall much thicker than the 
 meteors fell towards the earth ; east, west, 
 north, and south, it was the same.' In a 
 word, the whole heavens seemed in motion. 
 
 The display, as described in Professor 
 Silliman's Journal, was seen all over North 
 
 America. The chief scene of the exhibi- 
 tion was within the limits of the longitude 
 of sixty-one degrees in the Atlantic ocean, 
 and that of one hundred degrees in Cen- 
 tral Mexico, and from the North Ameri- 
 can lakes to the southern side of the island 
 of Jamaica. 
 
 Over this vast area, an appearance pre- 
 sented itself far surpassing, in grandeur 
 and magnificence, the loftiest reach of the 
 human imagination. From two o'clock 
 until broad daylight, the sky being per- 
 fectly serene and cloudless, an incessant 
 play of dazzlingly brilliant luminosities 
 was kept up in the whole heavens. Some 
 of these were of great magnitude and most 
 peculiar form. One, of large size, remained 
 for some time almost stationary in the ze- 
 nith, over the Falls of Niagara, emitting 
 streams of light which radiated in all direc- 
 tions. The wild dash of the waters, as con- 
 trasted with the fiery commotion above 
 them, formed a scene of unequaled and 
 amazing sublimity. Arago computes that 
 not less than two hundred and forty thou- 
 sand meteors were at the same time visible 
 above the horizon of Boston ! To form some 
 idea of such a spectacle, one must imagine 
 a constant succession of fire-balls, resem- 
 bling sky-rockets radiating in all direc- 
 tions, from a point in the heavens near the 
 zenith, and following the arch of the sky 
 towards the horizon. They proceeded to 
 various distances from the radiating point, 
 leaving after them a vivid streak of light, 
 and usually exploding before they disap- 
 peared. The balls were of various sizes 
 and degrees of splendor ; some were mere 
 points, but others were larger and brighter 
 than Jupiter or Venus ; and one, in par- 
 ticular, appeared to be nearly of the moon's 
 size. But at Niagara, no spectacle so ter- 
 ribly grand and sublime was ever before 
 beheld by man as that of the firmament 
 descending in fiery torrents over the dark 
 and roaring cataract ! 
 
 Everywhere within the range of the 
 exhibition, the first appearance was that of 
 fire-works of the most imposing grandeur, 
 covering the entire vault of heaven with 
 myriads of fire-balls resembling sky-rock- 
 
230 
 
 SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER. 
 
 ets. On more attentive inspection, it was 
 seen that the meteors exhibited three dis- 
 tinct varieties, as follows, described by Dr. 
 Olmsted : 
 
 First, those consisting of phosphoric 
 lines, apparently described by a point. 
 This variety was the most numerous, 
 every-where filling the atmosphere, and 
 resembling a shower of fiery snow driven 
 with inconceivable velocity to the north of 
 west, and transfixing the beholder with 
 wondering awe. 
 
 Second, those consisting of large fire- 
 balls, which at intervals darted along the 
 sky, leaving luminous trains which occa- 
 sionally remained in view for a number of 
 minutes, and, in some cases, for half an 
 hour or more. This kind appeared more 
 like falling stars, giving to many persons 
 the very natural impression that the stars 
 were actually falling from the sky ; and it 
 was principally this spectacle which caused 
 such amazement and terror among the 
 unenlightened classes. 
 
 Third, those undefined luminous bodies 
 which remained nearly stationary in the 
 heavens for a considerable period of time ; 
 these were of various size and form. 
 
 One of the most remarkable circum- 
 stances attending this display was, that 
 the meteors all seemed to emanate from 
 
 sky, ran along the vault with immense 
 velocity, describing in some instances an 
 arc of thirty or forty degrees in less than 
 four seconds. The trains which they left 
 were commonly white, but were sometimes 
 tinged with various prismatic colors. 
 
 One ball seen at New Haven, and sup- 
 posed to have been identical with one 
 described by various observers that shot 
 off in the north-west direction, and ex- 
 ploded a little northward of the star 
 Capella, left, just behind the place of 
 explosion, a phosphorescent train of pecu- 
 liar beauty. The line of direction was at 
 first nearly straight ; but it soon began to 
 contract in length, to dilate in breadth, 
 and to assume the figure of a serpent draw- 
 ing himself up, until it appeared like a 
 small luminous cloud of vapor. This 
 cloud was borne eastward, the wind 
 blowing gently in that direction, oppo- 
 site to the course in which the meteor had 
 proceeded, remaining in sight several 
 minutes. 
 
 Of the third variety of meteors, the fol- 
 lowing are remarkable examples. At 
 Poland, Ohio, a luminous body was dis- 
 tinctly visible in the north-east for more 
 than an hour ; it was very brilliant, in the 
 form of a pruning-hook, and apparently 
 twenty feet long and eighteen inche* 
 
 MBTEOKIO SHOWER AS SEEN AT NIAGARA FALLS. 
 
 one and the same point ; that is, if their 
 lines of direction had been continued back- 
 ward, they would have met in the same 
 point, south-east a little from the zenith. 
 They set out at different distances from 
 this point, and, following the arch of the 
 
 broad ; it gradually settled towards the 
 horizon, until it disappeared. At Niagara 
 Falls, a large, luminous body, shaped like 
 a square table, was seen nearly in the 
 zenith, remaining for some time almost 
 stationary, and emitting large streams of 
 
SUBLIME METEOEIC SHOWER. 
 
 231 
 
 light. At Charleston, S. C., a meteor of 
 extraordinary size was seen to course the 
 hearens for a great length of time, and 
 then was heard to explode with the noise 
 of a cannon. 
 
 The point from which the meteors 
 seemed to issue, was observed, by those 
 who fixed the position of the display 
 among the stars, to be in the constellation 
 Leo. At New Haven, it appeared in the 
 bend of the ' sickle ' a collection of stars 
 in the breast of Leo, a little to the west- 
 ward of the star Gamma Leonis. By 
 observers at other places remote from each 
 other, it was seen in the same constella- 
 tion, although in different parts of it. An 
 interesting and important fact, in this 
 connection, is, that this radiating point 
 was stationary among the fixed stars 
 that is, that it did not move along with the 
 earth, in its diurnal revolution eastward, 
 but accompanied the stars in their appar- 
 ent progress westward. 
 
 According to the testimony of by far the 
 greater number of observers, the meteors 
 were, in general, unaccompanied by any 
 very peculiar sound; but, on the other 
 hand, such a sound, proceeding, as was 
 supposed, from the meteors, was said to be 
 distinctly heard by a few observers in 
 various places. These sounds are repre- 
 sented either as a hissing noise, like the 
 rushing of a sky-rocket, or as explosions, 
 like the bursting of the same bodies ; and 
 these instances were too numerous to 
 permit the supposition that they were 
 '^aginary. 
 
 A remarkable change of wsather, from 
 warm to cold, accompanied the meteoric 
 shower, or immediately followed it. In 
 all parts of the United States, this change 
 was remarkable for its suddenness and 
 intensity. In many places, the day pre- 
 ceding had been unusually warm for the 
 season, but, before morning, a severe frost 
 ensued, unparalleled for the time of year. 
 Indeed, the seasons and atmospheric 
 changes exhibited remarkable anomalies 
 long after that period. Thus, in parts of 
 Michigan, so uncommonly mild was the 
 season throughout the latter part of 
 
 November, and the whole of December, 
 that the Indians made maple sugar during 
 this month, and the contiguous lakes 
 remained unfrozen as late as January 
 third. At the same period, the season in 
 the south-western states, as far as New 
 Orleans, was uncommonly cold. In most 
 portions of New England, an unusually 
 mild winter was succeeded by a remarka- 
 bly cold and backward spring, requiring 
 domestic fires to be kept throughout the 
 month of May, and frequently in the 
 month of June. A succession of gales 
 commenced about the time of the meteoric 
 shower, first in the Atlantic ocean, and 
 afterwards in various parts of the United 
 States, almost unequaled in this country 
 for their frequency and violence. 
 
 The meteors were constituted of very 
 light, combustible materials. Their com- 
 bustibility was rendered evident by their 
 exhibiting the actual phenomena of com- 
 bustion, being consumed, or converted 
 into smoke, with intense light and heat; 
 and the extreme tenuity of the substance 
 composing them is inferred from the fact 
 that they were stopped by the air. Had 
 their quantity of matter been considerable, 
 with so prodigious a velocity, they would 
 have had a sufficient momentum to enable 
 them to reach the t-arth, and the most dis- 
 astrous consequences might have ensued. 
 Upon submitting this subject to accurate 
 calculation, upon established principles, 
 Dr. Olmsted ascertained that the quantity 
 of heat extricated from the air by the fall- 
 ing meteors, exceeded that of the hottest 
 furnaces, and could be compared only to 
 those immeasurable degrees of heat pro- 
 duced in the laboratory of the chemist, 
 before which the most refractory sub- 
 stances are melted, and even dissipated in 
 vapor. 
 
 Some of the larger meteors must have 
 been bodies of very great size. Dr. Smith, 
 of North Carolina, and other persons in 
 various places, saw a meteor which ap- 
 peared as large as the full moon. If this 
 body were at the distance of one hundred 
 and ten miles from the observer, it must 
 have had a diameter of one mile ; if at a 
 
232 
 
 SUBLIME METEOEIC SHOWER. 
 
 distance of eleven miles, its diameter was 
 five hundred and twenty-eight feet; and 
 if only one mile off, it must have been 
 forty-eight feet in diameter. These con- 
 siderations leave no doubt that many of 
 the meteors were of great size, though it 
 may be difficuk to say precisely how large. 
 The fact that they were stopped by the 
 resistance of the air, proves that their 
 substance was light ; still, the quantity of 
 smoke, or residuum, which resulted from 
 their destruction, indicates that there was 
 quite a body of matter. 
 
 The momentum of even light bodies of 
 such size, and in such numbers, traversing 
 the atmosphere with such astonishing 
 velocity, must have produced extensive 
 derangements in the atmospheric equilib- 
 rium, as the consideration of certain points 
 will show. 
 
 These large bodies were stopped in the 
 atmosphere, only by transferring their 
 motion to columns of air, large volumes of 
 which would be suddenly and violently 
 displaced. Cold air of the upper regions 
 would be brought down to the earth ; the 
 portions of air incumbent over districts of 
 country remote from each other, being 
 mutually displaced, would exchange places, 
 the air of the warm latitudes being trans- 
 ferred to colder, and that of cold latitudes 
 to warmer regions ; remarkable changes 
 of season would be the consequence, and 
 numerous and violent gales would prevail 
 for a long time, until the atmosphere 
 should have regained its equilibrium. That 
 the state of the weather, and the condition 
 of the seasons that followed the meteoric 
 shower, corresponded to these consequences 
 of the disturbance of the atmospheric equi- 
 librium, is a remarkable fact, and favors 
 the opinion early suggested, that such 
 disturbance is a natural effect of the mete- 
 oric shower, and it is a consequence from 
 which the most formidable dangers attend- 
 ing phenomena of this kind are to be 
 apprehended. 
 
 With regard to the nature of the mete- 
 ors, Dr. Olmsted, after establishing the 
 fact that they were combustible, light, 
 and transparent bodies, infers that the 
 
 cloud which produced the fiery shower, 
 consisted of nebulous matter, analogous to 
 that which composes the tails of comets. 
 It cannot be said, indeed, precisely what 
 is the constitution of the material of which 
 the latter are composed ; but it is known 
 that it is very light, since it meets no 
 appreciable force of attraction on the plan- 
 ets, moving even among the satellites of 
 Jupiter without disturbing their motions, 
 although its own motions, in such cases, 
 are greatly disturbed, thus proving its 
 materiality ; and, that it is exceedingly 
 transparent, is evinced by the fact that 
 the smallest stars are visible through it 
 Hence, so far as there can be gathered 
 any knowledge of the material of the neb- 
 ulous matter of comets, and of the matter 
 composing these November meteors, they 
 appear to be analogous to each other. 
 
 Various hypotheses have been proposed 
 to account for this wonderful phenomenon. 
 The agent most readily suggesting itself 
 in this and in most other unexplained 
 natural appearances electricity has no 
 known properties adequate to account for 
 the production of the meteors, for the 
 motions which they exhibited, or for the 
 trains which, in many instances, they left 
 behind them. And, if this agent be sup- 
 posed to have some connection with the 
 light and heat which they exhibited, it ia 
 to be borne in mind, that the compression 
 of the air which must result from the 
 rapid progress of large bodies through it, 
 is a sufficient cause of this. 
 
 Magnetism has also been assigned as the 
 principal agent concerned in producing 
 the meteoric shower. The aurora borealis, 
 and the remarkable auroral arches which 
 occasionally appear in the sky, have been 
 found to have peculiar relations to the 
 magnetism of the earth, arranging them- 
 selves in obedience to the laws of magnetic 
 attraction. Something of this kind was 
 supposed by some to appear during the 
 meteoric phenomenon, especially in the 
 position of the apparent center or radiant- 
 point, which was, as noticed by many 
 observers, very nearly in the place towards 
 which the dipping-needle is directed. 
 
SUBLIME METEOKIC SHOWER. 
 
 233 
 
 REMARKABLE METEORIC DISPLAY ON THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
 From other observations, however, it 
 appears that the radiant-point was not 
 stationary with respect to the meridian, 
 but accompanied the stars in their westerly 
 progress ; the apparent coincidence with 
 the pole of the dipping-needle being, 
 according to this, purely accidental. 
 
 According to the view that has been 
 taken, by some, of the origin of meteoric 
 stones, namely, that of ascribing them to 
 terrestrial comets, the hypothesis has been 
 suggested, that the meteors in question 
 might have a similar origin. But the 
 body which afforded the meteoric shower, 
 could not have been of the nature of a 
 satellite to tlie earth, because it remained 
 
 so long stationary witb respect to th 
 earth at least two hours, -~a period suffi- 
 cient to have carried it nearly rowid the 
 earth in a circular orbit. 
 
 Nor can it be supposed that the eartb 
 in its annual progress, came into the vicin 
 ity of a nebula, which was either station' 
 ary, or wandering lawless through space. 
 Such a collection of matter could not 
 remain stationary within the solar system, 
 in an insulated state ; and had it been in 
 motion in any other direction than that in 
 which the earth was moving, it would soon 
 have been separated from the earth, since, 
 during the eight hours while the meteoric 
 shower lasted, and perhaps, in all it 
 
234 
 
 SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWEK. 
 
 wide range, it lasted much longer, the 
 earth moved in its orbit through the space 
 of nearly five hundred and fifty thousand 
 miles. 
 
 In connection with the account of this 
 meteoric shower, mention may he made of 
 a remarkable light, seen in the east at the 
 time of that great display, and subse- 
 quently in the west after twilight at differ- 
 ent times, until the month of May, which 
 light assumed different aspects, corre- 
 sponding, apparently, to those which the 
 body revolving around the sun, in the 
 manner contemplated by theory, would 
 occupy. Hence it was conjectured, that 
 this luminous appearance proceeded from 
 the body itself, which afforded the mete- 
 oric shower. It has also been suggested, 
 that this light may result from the same 
 cause as the zodiacal light, and that the 
 latter interesting phenomenon perhaps re- 
 sults from a nebulous body revolving 
 around the sun, interior to the orbit of the 
 earth. 
 
 It is a point worthy of contemplation, 
 namely, the direful effects which such a 
 " fiery shower " mi ght, in the absence of 
 that law of harmony which governs the 
 universe, have unquestionably produced. 
 Had the meteors been constituted of mate- 
 rials a little more dense, their momentum 
 would have enabled them to reach the 
 earth ; and had they held on their course 
 three seconds longer, it is impossible to 
 conceive of the calamities which would 
 have ensued by the descent to the earth of 
 bodies of such magnitude, glowing with 
 the most intense heat. Half the continent 
 must have been involved in one common 
 destruction ! 
 
 One of the most interesting facts per- 
 taining to this grand celestial phenomenon, 
 is its periodical character. Between the 
 years 903 and 1833, of the modern era, 
 thirteen of these great showers are re- 
 corded, separated from each other by inter- 
 vals of thirty-three and sixty-six years. 
 It is not a little remarkable, too, that the 
 epoch of these periodic displays coincides 
 with the annual November showers so 
 familiar in their occurrence to all, and 
 
 that their point of divergence in the heav- 
 ens is the same. Indeed, the phenomenon 
 of the long interval or period differs from 
 that of the annual period only in its 
 numerical character. 
 
 The last of these magnificent stellar 
 showers second, perhaps, in grandeur of 
 demonstration to that of November, 1833, 
 which latter stands solitary in its unsur- 
 .passed extent and splendor, occurred 
 November fourteenth, 1867, beginning at 
 about three o'clock in the morning. At 
 half-past three, a meteor of a greenish blue 
 color, and about the size of a star of the 
 first magnitude, shot out from the direc- 
 tion of the constellation Leo, lighting up 
 the sky with a long train of crimson fire, 
 and traveling in a north-westerly direction. 
 It had scarcely faded from the sight, when 
 another and equally brilliant, though not 
 quite so large, came speeding along in its 
 track, and it was followed by fourteen of 
 smaller magnitude, one by one, in quick 
 succession. At this moment a heavy 
 cloud drifted towards the north, and for 
 some minutes the spectacle was partially 
 lost to view. That the meteors were fall- 
 ing rapidly, however, was plainly evident ; 
 for, from all points where the mass of 
 clouds was thin, occasional meteors flashed 
 out, and the frequent lighting up of the 
 clouds, as they passed over, left no doubt 
 that the mysterious phenomenon was 
 having full play in the regions beyond. 
 
 At ten minutes before four o'clock, the 
 northern sky again became clear ; a thick 
 and almost impenetrable cloud passed over 
 the moon, partially obscuring its light, 
 and thus enabling the observers to view 
 with greater distinctness the size and bril- 
 liancy of the meteors. 
 
 The display was now a most magnifi- 
 cent one indeed. The meteors shot out 
 from Leo in all directions, and with 
 remarkable swiftness traveled across the 
 horizon. Sixty-three were counted in one 
 minute and ten seconds, of which three 
 were of extraordinary size and beauty. 
 One of these, of a greenish hue, and fol- 
 lowed by a long train of the same color, 
 traveled in the direction of .Ursa Major, 
 
SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER. 
 
 235 
 
 and as it was disappearing in the southern 
 horizon, apparently burst, lighting up the 
 sky for a great distance on all sides. It 
 soon became utterly impossible to keep any 
 correct account of the number falling. 
 Eight, ten and twelve sped onwards, on 
 their erratic course, at the same moment, 
 scarcely disappearing before others of 
 equal splendor took their places. For 
 fully twenty minutes they continued to 
 fall with the same rapidity, during which 
 time, there were counted, exclusive of those 
 already mentioned, three hundred and 
 thirteen. This number, however, was not 
 one-fifth of that which really fell, w 
 observed in New York city. Not less 
 than fifteen hundred or two thousand were 
 estimated by observers at that city, to 
 have radiated from Leo, during this space 
 of time, some of which were splendid in 
 color and movement. 
 
 One of the meteors constituting this 
 display is described as of surpassing 
 beauty, size and brilliancy. It radiated 
 from Leo, and took a direct northerly 
 course toward Ursa Major, followed by a 
 long train of a yellowish red hue, which 
 spanned the horizon from its point of 
 appearance to that of its disappearance. 
 This meteor was of the same greenish blue 
 color as the others which preceded it, 
 
 and as it passed over about one-half of the 
 course traversed, it seemed to burst, and 
 then the spectacle was one of extreme 
 beauty. Apparently, hundreds of frag- 
 ments of an almost blood-red color broke 
 from it and scattered in every direction, 
 while it continued its course towards the 
 north, no longer wearing its greenish-blue 
 color, but of one uniform and beautiful 
 blue. The panorama it presented was 
 exceedingly grand, and lasted about three 
 minutes, before the varied colors disap- 
 peared and the fire-lit skies resumed their 
 wonted serenity. After the appearance of 
 this, the display gradually died away. 
 
 Although it is doubtful, from the want 
 of the requisite data, whether the source 
 of the meteors, or the height of the mete- 
 oric cloud, has been accurately ascertained, 
 yet the truth in regard to the latter may 
 be approximated. According to the estab- 
 lished laws of falling bodies, the velocity 
 the meteors would acquire in falling from 
 a point two thousand two hundred and 
 thirty-eight miles above the earth to within 
 fifty miles of its surface this being con- 
 sidered as nearly the height of the atmos- 
 phere is about four miles per second 
 which is more than ten times the maxi- 
 mum velocity of a cannon-ball, and about 
 nineteen times that of sound ' 
 
XXIX. 
 
 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. OF PRESIDENT JACKSON, 
 AT THE UNITED STATES CAPITOL IN WASHING- 
 TON, BY RICHARD LAWRENCE. 1835. 
 
 Failure of the Pistols to Discharge. The President Rushes Furiously Upon His Assailant, and is 
 Restrained from Executing Summary Vengeance only by His Friends. Political Hostility Supposed, 
 at First, to Have Instigated the Act. Lawrence Proves to be a Lunatic, Without Accomplices. His 
 History and Trial. Funeral of a Member of Congress. Great Concourse at the Capitol. President 
 Jackson and Cabinet Present. Lawrence Enters During the Sermon. Moves to the Eastern Portico. 
 President Jackson Leaves with Secretary Woodbury. Their Carriage at the Portico Steps. 
 Approach to Lawrence's Position. He Levels a Pistol at Jackson. Explosion of the Percussion Cap. 
 A Second Pistol Snapped. Jackson Raises His Cane Fiercely. Lion-Like Energy of the Old Hero. 
 It with Difficulty Kept Back. Lawrence Stunned and Secured. His Perfect Calmness Through 
 All. The Crowd Wish to Kill Him. Fine Appearance of the Assassin. Frank Avowal of His 
 Motives. Insane Idea Possessing Him. Claims to be a King. Is Confined in a Madhouse. 
 
 "Ltt me go, gentlemen I I am not afraid they CAN'T kill me I can protect myielf I " JACXSOX'S EXCLAMATION WHBK 
 
 DPOM TUK ASSAS8I1I. 
 
 IKE wildfire on the flowing prairie, did the announcement of the attempted 
 
 assassination of President Andrew Jackson, on the 
 thirtieth of January, 1835, spread over the countr}-, 
 to its furthermost limits. Consternation filled the 
 public mind, at the thought that the tragical mode 
 of dealing with the crowned heads of kingdoms and 
 empires, had at last been tried though fortunately 
 with abortive result upon the person of the popu- 
 larly elected ruler of a free republic ! 
 
 On the afternoon of die day above-named, while 
 President Jackson was in the capitol, in attendance 
 on the funeral of the Hon. Warren K. Davis, of 
 
 THE PRESERVATION. South Carolina, Richard Lawrence, a painter, 
 
 residing in Washington, attempted to shoot him. This individual was seen 
 to enter the hall of the house of representatives during the delivery of the funeral 
 sermon; before its close, however, he had taken his stand on the eastern 
 portico, near one 01 the columns. The president, with the secretary of the 
 treasury on his left arm, on retiring from the rotunda to reach his carriage at the 
 steps of the portico, advanced towards the spot where Lawrence stood, who had his 
 pistol concealed under his coat, and when he approached within two yards and 
 
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 237 
 
 a half of him, the assassin extended his 
 arm and leveled the pistol at the presi- 
 dent's breast. The percussion cap ex- 
 ploded with a noise so great, that several 
 witnesses supposed the pistol had fired. 
 On the instant, the assassin dropped the 
 pistol from his right hand, and taking 
 another ready cocked from his left, pre- 
 sented and snapped it at the president, 
 who at the moment raised his cane and 
 made for the assailant with lion-like 
 energy, and would have executed summary 
 vengeance ; but Secretary Woodbury and 
 Lieutenant Gedney at the same instant 
 laid hold of the man, who gave way 
 through the crowd and was at last knocked 
 down, the president pressing after him 
 until he saw he was secured. The presi- 
 dent's friends then urged him to go to the 
 capitol, which the brave-hearted man did, 
 with great firmness and self-possession, 
 though during the eventful moment the 
 president's commanding voice was heard 
 above all others, as, tearing himself from 
 his friends and rushing upon the assassin, 
 he said, " Let me go, gentlemen, / am not 
 afraid they can't kill me I can protect 
 myself! " As soon as the act was known 
 to the crowd, they wished to kill the assas- 
 sin on the spot. 
 
 Lawrence was forthwith carried to jail, 
 after a brief preliminary examination 
 before Judge Cranch. At this examina- 
 tion, Mr. Randolph, sergeant of the house 
 of representatives, who attended the mar- 
 shal to conduct the prisoner to the city 
 hall, gave in testimony that the prisoner, 
 when asked by the marshal what motive 
 he had to make his horrid attempt, stated 
 that the president had killed his father. 
 His father was an Englishman who died 
 many years ago in Washington. The son 
 himself was apprenticed afterwards to a 
 Mr. Clark, with whom he lived three years. 
 Mr. Clark, when called upon, said that he 
 was a young man of excellent habits, sober 
 and industrious; that he had seen him 
 very frequently, and was well acquainted 
 with him since he had left his family, and 
 had heard nothing to his disadvantage, 
 until, of late, he was informed of his being 
 
 quarrelsome am:ng his friends, and had 
 treated one of his sisters badly. 
 
 The total absence of any personal motive 
 on the part of the prisoner to commit the 
 deed he attempted, suggested the idea that 
 he must be insane. But his demeanor 
 when committing the act, and on being 
 seized, as well as when examined, bore not 
 the slightest appearance of frenzy, or 
 derangement of any sort. When asked 
 by the court if he wished to cross-examine 
 the witnesses, or to make explanation, he 
 answered in the negative said that those 
 who had seen the act could state the facts 
 and at the conclusion, when asked if he 
 had anything to offer, said that he could 
 not contradict what had been given in 
 evidence. In the midst of the excitement 
 and anxiety which prevailed around him, 
 Lawrence appeared perfectly calm and 
 collected ; and the president, in speaking 
 of the event, remarked that Lawrence's 
 manner, from the moment his eye caught 
 his, was firm and resolved, until the failure 
 of his last pistol, when he seemed to shrink, 
 rather than resist. 
 
 Lawrence was a handsome young man 
 of about thirty-five years, small in stature, 
 pale complexion, black hair, dark eyes, 
 genteel deportment, and well-dressed. The 
 keeper of the rotunda stated that he had 
 frequently observed the man about the 
 capitol, so frequently that he had endeav- 
 ored to draw him into conversation, but 
 found him taciturn and unwilling to talk. 
 On the day in question, he kept prowling 
 about, but did not come within the railing 
 near the members' seats; his hand was 
 held inside his vest, as if grasping some- 
 thing, and his lips were pale and quiver- 
 ing. On his pistols being taken from him, 
 after the affair, they were found to be a 
 very elegant pair, in most excellent order, 
 and loaded with powder and ball almost to 
 the muzzle, the barrels being about six 
 inches long. On examining the load in 
 one of the pistols, a ball was drawn out by 
 means of a screw, about sixty of which 
 balls would have made a pound ; it was 
 well packed, and forced down tight on a 
 full charge of excellent glazed powder. It 
 
238 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 
 
 was a most astonishing circumstance, 
 loaded as they were and with percussion 
 caps, that the pistols missed fire. In view 
 of this latter fact, Mr. Key, the district 
 attorney, and General Hunter, the marshal 
 of the district, lost no time in testing the 
 actual condition of the weapons, the pistol 
 still loaded being first tried, by putting on 
 another cap. The tube of this pistol 
 showed the powder at its summit. Gen- 
 eral Hunter, by inclining the pistol, threw 
 out a few grains of the powder in his 
 hand. They took from a box of caps found 
 
 each of the pistols, several times, without 
 taking any other means of forcing the 
 powder into the tubes than that of ram- 
 ming home small paper wads on the 
 charges. The discharge of the weapons 
 took effect on every trial. So great was 
 the excitement produced by the affair, 
 that some of the most eminent political 
 opponents of the president, including such 
 men as Clay, Calhoun, Poindexter, White, 
 and others, were, in the frenzy of the 
 moment, suspected of having conspired in 
 a plot to get rid of the president ! 
 
 in Lawrence's shop without selecting it, 
 one, which was placed upon the tube. On 
 Major Donelson firing it, the ball passed 
 through an inch plank, at a distance of 
 about five or six yards, and lodged, nearly 
 buried, in the opposite side of the enclos- 
 ure, six or seven yards distant. They 
 then loaded with a small quantity of the 
 powder found in the prisoner's possession 
 
 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 
 
 It was ascertained that, some time pre- 
 vious, Lawrence had formed an attachment 
 
 to a young lady, and frequently told his 
 sister that he would by his industry soon 
 be enabled to buy a corner lot near her, 
 and build on it a good house, when he 
 would marry the object of his attachment ; 
 and, with this view, he labored diligently, 
 day and night, until he had by him about 
 
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 239 
 
 eight hundred dollars. He was disap- 
 pointed became extremely pensive quit 
 all employment and would stand for 
 hours in a little parlor, gazing upon the 
 spot which he had selected as his future 
 residence. Up to this time, he was quiet, 
 kind and affectionate. 
 
 His brother-in-law, with whom he lived, 
 endeavored to persuade Lawrence to 
 resume his work he said that he would 
 go to England, that he had something of 
 great importance which demanded his 
 presence, and in the fall of 1833 went to 
 New York for the purpose of taking pas- 
 sage from that port. During the winter 
 he returned, saying that he found the 
 papers filled with notices of his contem- 
 plated enterprise, and that he could get no 
 captain to take him on board. In the 
 spring of 1834. he again went as far as 
 Philadelphia, put up at the Mansion House, 
 kept his room, or else would stand for 
 hours on the porch, engaged in deep 
 thought, without speaking to any one. 
 After a few days he returned to Washing- 
 ton, and said that he found his purpose of 
 going to England was known, that none of 
 the captains would consent to take him on 
 board, but that he would soon have a vessel 
 of his own that he had engaged men who 
 would put all things right. About this 
 time he became very quarrelsome, and his 
 relatives were afraid to keep him in the 
 house. His brother-in-law endeavored 
 again to induce him to go to work, which 
 he obstinately refused to do, saying that 
 his hands would do no more work that 
 others might work, but, as for him, he 
 would soon have money enough. At 
 length, he committed an assault upon his 
 sister, for which he was handed over to the 
 officers of justice, and lodged in jail. The 
 case was carried before the grand jury, 
 only a short time previous to the assault 
 on the president, and, after an examina- 
 tion of witnesses who knew him, the grand 
 jury refused to find a bill against him, on 
 the ground of his insanity. 
 
 In a conversation between Lawrence 
 and some visitors, held soon after the rash 
 act, the following curious statements were 
 
 made by the prisoner, in reply to the 
 questions put to him : 
 
 " What object had you in view in shoot- 
 ing the president ? " 
 
 "About ten days before making the 
 attempt, I called on the president at his 
 house, and stated to him that I was in 
 want of money, and wished him to give a 
 check for it. The president made no par- 
 ticular objection to this demand, but stated 
 that Mr. Dibble wished to see him, and 
 that I must call again." 
 
 "Do you suppose the president knew of 
 your intention to kill him ? " 
 
 " He must have known what my inten- 
 tion was, if he did not comply with my 
 wishes." 
 
 "Why did you call upon the president 
 with such a demand ? " 
 
 " Because he knew, as I supposed every 
 person did, the true situation of things. 
 The president is my clerk, and I have 
 control over his money and his bank, and 
 the sword; and if he refused to comply, 
 he knew the consequences." 
 
 " By what means did you expect to 
 enforce compliance with your wishes, and 
 how much money did you expect to get ? " 
 
 " The president knew I had the right to 
 the money, and, if he refused, that I had 
 the right to kill him. One or two thou- 
 sand dollars would have satisfied me, but 
 I would have accepted three or four hun- 
 dred." 
 
 " How came the president to know that 
 you had the right ? " 
 
 "Because there was an understanding, 
 and it would have been taking the law in 
 his own hands to refuse." 
 
 " Did you expect any aid in your under- 
 taking to kill the president ? " 
 
 "No, I needed none. I have the right 
 to the crown of England. It has always 
 been in my ancestors. They were deprived 
 of it by force. My father was then re- 
 duced to labor, and had to drive a coal cart 
 in England. He was fond of hunting, 
 riding, and shooting, and was frequently 
 called on by noblemen and persons of dis- 
 tinction, notwithstanding his reduced cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
240 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 
 
 " How came General Jackson to get the 
 power over your rights and money ? " 
 
 " The first cause was what took place 
 at Orleans. He leagued in with Lord 
 Wellington, and the consequence was, that 
 out of twenty-five thousand English sol- 
 diers sent over, only a small remnant was 
 left; with the aid of cotton-bags fixed by 
 Jackson, they were wasted away. A 
 number of officers were drafted for this 
 campaign, among them Pakenham and 
 Gibbs, and they were killed. This is the 
 unjust treatment my father received on 
 that occasion, and it is my business to put 
 things right I have the power Jackson 
 is my clerk he knew what would be the 
 consequence of refusing to obey." 
 
 " If you were now set at liberty, would 
 you endeavor to go on with your determin- 
 ation ? " 
 
 "After a while, I should call on the 
 president for the money, and if he refused, 
 I would pursue the same plan I did 
 before." 
 
 On the day appointed for the trial of 
 Lawrence, he appeared in court dressed in 
 a gray coat, black cravat and vest, and 
 brown pantaloons. His conduct was that of 
 a man perfectly at his ease, and collected, 
 though his eyes showed indications of 
 mania, and there was an evident assump- 
 tion of kingly dignity in his demeanor 
 and the expression of his countenance. 
 He took his seat, however, very quietly by 
 the side of his counsel, and conversed 
 smilingly with them. That his appear- 
 ance was decidedly handsome and prepos- 
 sessing, was the opinion universally ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 The witnesses having been called into 
 court, Mr. Key, the prosecuting attorney, 
 commenced some observations to the 
 bench, when up jumped Lawrence from 
 his chair, under evident excitement of 
 mind, and said he wished to know whether 
 it was correct to bring him or not ? He 
 claimed the crown of Great Britain, he 
 said, and also that of the United States ; 
 and he wished to know if they could bring 
 him there-? The judge desired him to 
 take his seat, and to allow his counsel to 
 
 manage his case for him. Lawrence com- 
 plied, but still continued the subject, in 
 conversation with his counsel. The latter 
 now inquired of the court, whether, as this 
 was simply the case of a misdemeanor, the 
 presence of the prisoner, considering his 
 state of mind, might not be dispensed with. 
 Lawrence again rose, and addressed the 
 court, saying, " I wish to know, if, having, 
 
 jis I have, the sword ." He was again 
 
 stopped. His counsel once more, but still 
 without success, appealed to the bench. 
 
 RICDARD J.AWREXCE. 
 
 to allow the prisoner to be removed, 
 saying that he had done all he could to 
 quiet the man's feelings, but had not been 
 able to present any course of which he 
 would make choice. The judge replied, 
 that it was always customary for the pris- 
 oner to be in court, in cases like this; he 
 wished the trial to proceed in the ordinary 
 way. On proceeding to call the panel, the 
 following passage ensued : 
 
 "I observe," said Lawrence, "that a 
 jury has been called. I wish to know if 
 this is correct. I certainly am king ! " 
 
 " You must sit down," commanded the 
 judge, " and be quiet, Mr. Lawrence, until 
 called on to answer." 
 
 Lawrence sat down ; but not until he 
 had reiterated the assertion that he was 
 king of Great Britain, and likewise of 
 America, and that he was protected by the 
 law in his claim. 
 
 On the examination of witnesses, Sec- 
 retary Woodbury testified as follows : On 
 the occasion of the funeral ceremony which 
 took place in the hall of the house of rep- 
 resentatives, in consequence of the death 
 of one of its members, I attended, together 
 
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PKESIDENT JACKSON. 241 
 
 with the president and other officers of the 
 government; had listened to the funeral 
 service in the hall ; left it; the president 
 being on my right arm, had passed through 
 the rotunda, and through the eastern door, 
 where we came rather to a halt being in 
 the rear, in consequence of the delay 
 occasioned by the gentlemen who had pre- 
 ceded us getting into the coaches. We 
 had perhaps passed some two or three steps 
 on to the portico, when I heard a noise 
 like the discharge of a pistol; looked 
 round directly, and there saw a person, 
 about six or eight feet, a little obliquely to 
 the left, who was just in the act of lower- 
 ing his hand when my eye caught him. 
 It was the prisoner at the bar. Saw him 
 distinctly when I turned, and saw the 
 pistol in his hand; presumed he was the 
 person who fired. It was directed right 
 towards the president. At first I doubted 
 whether it was not myself who was aimed 
 at, but saw that it was towards the presi- 
 dent, who was on my right ; turned to the 
 president to see if he was injured, and, 
 seeing that he was not, I turned to look 
 for the prisoner. He was then in the act 
 of raising his hand again ; had something 
 in it ; presumed it was a pistol. I gave a 
 pull from the president's arm and sprang 
 towards the prisoner, seized him by the 
 collar, and at that moment the second 
 explosion took place. Other persons had 
 previously got hold of him, which proceed- 
 ing appeared to have rather put him out of 
 his first position ; they continued to pull 
 him, with some violence, in a somewhat 
 opposite direction. Seeing he was secured, 
 and that there was reason to believe he 
 had no other weapon, I let go my hold to 
 learn what was the state of the president. 
 The prisoner was dragged forwards towards 
 the front of the piazza. I saw no more of 
 him until I saw him here an hour after. 
 Found the president in the crowd, and went 
 home with him. 
 
 Secretary Dickerson stated the circum- 
 stances of the assault, as observed by him, 
 to be as follows : I went with other gentle- 
 men of the cabinet, to the capitol, on the 
 day of the funeral of the Hon. W. R. 
 16 
 
 Davis. After the service in the hall, the 
 procession moved forward towards the 
 eastern colonnade, there being a great 
 crowd. I was a little to the rear of the 
 president, and at the door of the colonnade 
 there was a halt, which brought me up 
 nearly to his side. I had advanced, I 
 think, about two steps from the door, when 
 I heard the discharge of a pocket pistol ; 
 have certainly heard such pistols dis- 
 charged without making a louder report 
 it being in the colonnade might have 
 increased the sound. On turning my eye, 
 I saw that some men had laid hold of an 
 individual. I was to the left of 'the presi- 
 dent, and saw Lieutenant Gedney, who 
 seemed to be trying to get the man down, 
 but I could not see the man. It was some 
 seconds before the prisoner could get at 
 his other pistol, and when he did, from his 
 altered position, he had to throw his arm 
 over to get aim at the president. The 
 latter must have been struck, had a dis- 
 charge taken place. In an instant from 
 this time, the prisoner was crushed to the 
 floor, but was soon raised again. Mr. 
 Gillet, a member of congress from New 
 York state, a very strong man, had hold 
 of him, as also had Lieutenant Gedney. 
 I looked at the prisoner, and kept my eye 
 on him, so as to be certain of his identity. 
 About the instant the second explosion 
 took place, the president had lifted his 
 stick to strike the prisoner, but made no 
 blow, being prevented by his friends. The 
 crowd coming out at the door was very 
 great. The president spoke angrily to 
 those who prevented him from getting 
 at Lawrence, saying, " Let me alone ! 
 Let me alone ! " I recollect hearing 
 him also say, " he knew where this came 
 from ! " 
 
 After some further evidence on the part 
 of the prosecution, the prisoner's counsel 
 asked permission of the judges that Law- 
 rence might leave the court, saying that it 
 was painful to them all to have him 
 remain particularly so to himself, as his 
 counsel, and the law did not require his 
 presence. Lawrence now rose, and ad- 
 dressed the judges wildly, saying 
 
242 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 
 
 '' What I havj done to Jackson, was on 
 account of money which he owes me. I 
 went there for that purpose. I consider 
 all in this court as under me. The United 
 States bank has owed me money ever since 
 1802, and I want my money. I must 
 have my revenue from that bank. You 
 are under me, gentlemen. (Mr. Wood- 
 ward, the deputy-marshal, endeavoring to 
 prevail on him to resume his seat, Law- 
 rence turned round, indignantly, and said, 
 ' Mr. Woodward! mind your own business, 
 or I shall treat you with severity/') It is 
 for me, gentlemen, to pass upon you, and 
 not you upon me." 
 
 Again did the counsel appeal to the 
 feelings of the court to spare itself, and 
 the jury, this painful exhibition, by per- 
 mitting Lawrence to depart in custody of 
 the marshal. He, the counsel, felt, for his 
 own part, that he could not do justice to 
 the cause t>f the prisoner, if he sat beside 
 him ; the very fact, that he should take a 
 course in the defense of the prisoner with 
 which he was displeased, would prevent it. 
 The court replied, that Lawrence should 
 remain until proven to be insane; he 
 would, however, be permitted to withdraw, 
 if it was his own wish so to do. The 
 unfortunate maniac here shouted out 
 
 " I deny the power of the court to try 
 me I am my own man I will have my 
 revenue ! " 
 
 Lawrence's counsel here endeavored to 
 soothe him, by telling him he should have 
 his rights. "Ay, but when?" "To- 
 day," replied his counsel ; and he sat down, 
 contentedly, on this assurance. 
 
 It was, of course, not at all difficult for 
 the prisoner's counsel to prove his insanity 
 and consequent irresponsibleness. Mr. 
 Redfern, who married Lawrence's sister, 
 testified on this point, to the following 
 effect : I have known Lawrence for sixteen 
 years, and first observed a change in him 
 i n 1833. In the fall of 1832 he left Wash- 
 ington with the intention, he said, of going 
 to England; he went in November, and 
 returned again in December, assigning as 
 a reason, that the weather was cold. In 
 the spring of the next year, he started 
 
 again to go to New York or Philadelphia, 
 but he certainly got no farther than Phila- 
 delphia ; on his return this time, he said the 
 people would not let him go, that the gov- 
 ernment opposed his going, that I and 
 others had prevented him ; that he should 
 not be able to go until he got a ship and 
 captain of his own, that, when he got to 
 Philadelphia, he found all the papers so 
 full about him, that he was obliged to 
 come back. After this, he remained in 
 my house six months, but did nothing, 
 saying he had no occasion to labor, that he 
 lived on his people, it was very well for 
 men such as me to work, but he had no 
 such need, that he had large claims on this 
 government which were now before con- 
 gress. He used to attend congress regu- 
 larly. In January, 1834, he left my 
 house, but, previous to this, had got quar- 
 relsome with his sister, said the colored 
 girl laughed at him and that he would kill 
 her, and that other people also laughed at 
 him. He struck all his sisters on several 
 occasions, and once took up a four-pound 
 weight to throw at my wife. I have seen 
 him pass since this time, but never have 
 spoken to him since 1833; he would go 
 about the house, without speaking, for 
 days together, but would talk and laugh 
 to himself continually in his own chamber. 
 It was the general impression of the neigh- 
 bors, that Lawrence was insane from the 
 beginning of 1833. 
 
 The question being put to Mr. Redfern, 
 as to whether Lawrence held two estates 
 in Ireland, the answer was in the nega- 
 tive. On asking Lawrence the names of 
 his estates, he replied, very gravely, " Tre- 
 gear and Kinnany ! and they are attached 
 to the crown of England ! " 
 
 Similar in its bearing, was the testi 
 mony of Mr. Drury, who had known Law- 
 rence twenty-five years, and who stated 
 the following facts : For the last year I 
 have observed a change in his conduct ; he 
 would talk to himself continually in his 
 
 shop, sometimes saying, ' him, he 
 
 does not know his enemy ; I will put a 
 pistol erect a gallows.' He conceived 
 himself to be King Richard the Third, of 
 
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 243 
 
 England, and likewise king of this coun- 
 try ; this was about the latter end of last 
 December, or the beginning of January, 
 after which, I heard him say, ' Gen- 
 eral Jackson ! who's General Jackson ? ' 
 On one occasion a black boy called to col- 
 lect a bill, and Lawrence said he would 
 call and pay it ; but, as soon as the boy 
 
 had left, he said, ' him ! he don't 
 
 know who he's dunning ! ' He would 
 stand at the door for hours, wrapt in 
 thought, and, even when I passed, he took 
 no notice of me. He was continually 
 talking to himself, and would now and then 
 burst into fits of laughter. I noticed no 
 particular change in him as to dress he 
 was always fond of dress, but I did in his 
 conduct and appearance. I have often 
 said he was a crazy man, and have heard 
 others say so ; the boys would call him 
 ' King Richard.' On the morning of his 
 attack on the president, he came to the 
 shop at the usual time, and went to a place 
 where I could see him through a partition ; 
 he was sitting on a chest, with a book in 
 his hand, laughing. I heard soon after 
 the lid of the chest fall, and heard him 
 say, ' I'll be- - if I don't do it ! ' He 
 then came out, left the shop, and locked 
 the door. Lawrence did some little work 
 within the last twelve months, and had a 
 shop. I had a room adjoining this. 
 
 Much testimony of the same purport as 
 the preceding was brought forward, and 
 nothing of a conflicting character pre- 
 sented itself. The law, in criminal cases, 
 
 says that the existence of reason is neces- 
 sary to constitute punishable crime its 
 deprivation renders the individual dispun- 
 ishable. Acting upon this ground, several 
 physicians were examined as to their opin- 
 ion of Lawrence's condition, judging from 
 the facts drawn out by the evidence, and 
 their personal interviews with the prisoner. 
 Their testimony was unanimous in de- 
 claring Lawrence's state of mind to be 
 that of morbid delusion, not possessing a 
 judgment of right and wrong, especially as 
 to anything connected with General Jack- 
 son, and therefore not to be treated as a 
 moral agent. Among the physicians who 
 expressed this as their decided opinion, 
 were Messrs. Coussin and Thomas Sewell, 
 two of the most eminent in their profes- 
 sion. 
 
 In accordance with the evidence thus 
 given, the jury were out only five minutes, 
 returning at once with a verdict of " Not 
 guilty, he having been under the influence 
 of insanity at the time of committing the 
 act." But, long before the trial and its 
 termination, the intense excitement pro- 
 duced by the act, throughout the country, 
 had almost entirely subsided, the first 
 impression, that the horrid deed had been 
 prompted by secret political conspiracy, 
 under partisan instigation, rapidly dying 
 away, as the true character of the man and 
 his unaided deed became known. Law- 
 rence was sent to a lunatic asylum, wher 
 he remained aa inmate thirty or forty 
 years. 
 
XXX. 
 
 MORSE'S INVENTION" OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH, 1835. 
 
 Realization of the Highest Ideal of a Mechanical Miracle. Principle, Structure, and Operation of the 
 Machine. Net-work of Lines Established Over the Four Continents. The Inventor's Experiments, 
 Labors, Discouragements, and Triumphs. " Orders of Glory," Gifts, and other Honors, Bestowed 
 Upon Him by Crowned Heads. Casual Origin of die Invention. Mr. M.'s European Voyage in 1832. 
 Recent French Experiments then Discussed. Important Question and Answer. Two Great Ex- 
 isting Facts. The Electric Spark Transmissive. Easy Control of the Current. Theory Applied to 
 Practice. Completion of a Crude Model Private Exhibition in 1835. Simplicity of the Instru- 
 ment. The Invention Made Public in 1837. Wonder and Incredulity. Appeal to Congress for 
 Pecuniary Aid. Merciless Ridicule Ensues Scene in the Committee-Room. A Machine at the 
 Capitol. Perfect in its Operation. Success of Morse's Appeal. His Joy at the Decision. Putting 
 np th Wires to Baltimore. First Message Through. 
 
 "That itwd c11fd 'Lightning' (my the Fltei) 
 Is owned In the l.nHed Statci: 
 'Twas Franklin's hand that canpht the horsef 
 'Twai hnruo&eed by Profetior .M< r-c." 
 
 LXGS and courts, presidents and cabiets, have 
 united in doing honor to that illustrious American 
 citizen, who, more than any other man of his race, 
 has realized to the human mind its highest ideal, or 
 conception, of a mechanical miracle, through human 
 agency. It is not claimed that, previous to Profes- 
 sor Morse's achievement, the possibility of applying 
 electricity to telegraphic communication had not oc- 
 cupied other minds, but that to him belongs the 
 high merit of having effected, after years of patient 
 '-"-" study and ingenious experiment, 
 a practical application of the great 
 scientific principle involved. 
 
 In the year 1829, Mr. Morse, 
 who was then an artist of much 
 celebrity, having, more than fifteen 
 years previously, exhibited before 
 the Royal Academy of England his 
 picture of " The Dying Hercules," 
 of colossal size, made a second pro- 
 fessional visit to Europe, where he 
 remained three years ; and it was 
 this visit which proved, through a 
 casual circumstance, of so much 
 importance to himself, to science 
 and the world, for it was on his 
 return in 1832, on board the ship 
 Sully, that he made that great dis- 
 covery, to which, is due the present 
 system of telegraphing. A gentle- 
 
MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 245 
 
 man on board had been describing some 
 experiments made in Paris with the 
 electromagnet, and the question arose as 
 to the time occupied by the fluid in pass- 
 ing through the wire, stated to be one hun- 
 dred feet in length. On the reply that it 
 was instantaneous, Professor Morse (recol- 
 lecting the experiments of Franklin,) 
 suggested that it might be carried to any 
 distance instantly, and that the electric 
 spark could be made a means of conveying 
 and recording intelligence. Here was the 
 idea, but a greater triumph was the appli- 
 cation of the theory to practice, which he 
 successfully accomplished, after much 
 study and multitudinous trials, in New 
 York, where, in 1835, he put in operation 
 the model of his recording electric tele- 
 graph. 
 
 Professor Morse's discovery was based 
 on these two principal facts, namely : that 
 a current of electricity will pass to any dis- 
 tance along a conductor connecting the two 
 poles of a voltaic battery, and produce 
 visible effects at any desired points on that 
 conductor; also, that magnetism is pro- 
 duced in a piece of soft iron, around which 
 the conductor, in its progress, is made to 
 pass, when the electric current is permit- 
 ted to flow, and that the magnetism ceases 
 when the current of electricity is prevented 
 from flowing. Hence, if the end of a soft 
 iron lever be placed beneath the iron to 
 be magnetized, it can be made to rise and 
 fall as the electricity flows, or is inter- 
 rupted. The other end of the lever, having 
 a point in it, may be made to press on a 
 strip of paper or not, at the will *of the 
 operator. This point may be made to im- 
 press a dot or a line, at pleasure. A dot 
 and a line may represent letters, and by 
 different combinations of dots and lines 
 any letter of the alphabet could be repre- 
 sented. The operator in one city could 
 make the apparatus in another city, at any 
 distance, write what he pleased, by break- 
 ing and closing the circuit at longer or 
 shorter intervals. 
 
 The invention, as thus devised by Pro- 
 fessor Morse, and as described in a popular 
 way by Antisell, Bakewell and others, 
 
 is a recording instrument, that embosses 
 the symbols upon paper, with a point 
 pressed down upon it by an electro-magnet ; 
 the symbols that form the alphabet con- 
 sisting of combinations of short and long 
 strokes, and made to stand for different 
 letters, by their repetitions and variations. 
 Thus a stroke followed by a dot signifies 
 the first letter of the alphabet ; a stroke 
 preceded by a dot, the second letter ; a 
 single dot, the third letter ; and in this 
 manner the whole alphabet could easily be 
 indicated, the number of repetitions in no 
 case exceeding four for each letter, the 
 letters and words being distinguished from 
 one another by a longer space being left 
 between them than between each mark 
 that forms only a part of a letter or of a 
 word. 
 
 Simplicity characterized this instrument 
 in an eminent degree. The transmitter is 
 merely a spring key, like that of a musical 
 instrument, which, on being pressed down, 
 makes contact with the voltaic battery, 
 and sends an electric current to the receiv- 
 ing station. The operator at the trans- 
 mitting station, by thus making contact, 
 brings into action an electro-magnet at the 
 station he communicates with, and that pulls 
 down a point fixed to the soft-iron lever 
 upon a strip of paper that is kept mov- 
 ing by clock-work slowly under it. The 
 duration of the pressure on the key, 
 whether instantaneous or prolonged for a 
 moment, occasions the difference in the 
 lengths of the lines indented on the paper. 
 A single circuit is sufficient for the pur- 
 pose, as well as very effective. 
 
 As the working of this telegraph depends 
 upon bringing into action at the receiving , 
 station an electro-magnet of force equal to 
 mechanically indenting paper, and as the 
 resistance to the passage of electricity 
 along the wires diminishes the quantity 
 transmitted so greatly, that at long dis- 
 tances it was supposed to be almost 
 impossible to obtain sufficient power for 
 the purpose, if it acted directly, to over- 
 come this difficulty, an auxiliary electro- 
 magnet was employed. The electro- 
 magnet which is directly in connection 
 
246 
 
 MOKSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 with the telegraph wire is a small one, 
 surrounded by about five hundred yards 
 or more of very fine wire, for the purpose 
 of multiplying as much as possible the 
 effect of the feeble current that is trans- 
 mitted. The soft-iron keeper, which is 
 attracted by the magnet, is also very light, 
 so that it may be the more readily attracted. 
 This highly sensitive instrument serves to 
 make and break contact with a local bat- 
 tery, which brings into action a large 
 electro-magnet, and as the local battery 
 and the magnet are close to the place 
 where the work is to be done, any required 
 force may be easily obtained. 
 
 The batteries used are Grove's zinc and 
 platinum, and two liquids ; any number of 
 these may be used. To form the electric 
 
 THE ORIGINAL INSTRUMENT. 
 
 circuit, one end of a copper wire is attached 
 to the end platina plate, and the other 
 end of the copper wire to the zinc cylinder. 
 A wire is not required to run round all 
 the circuit any metallic connection, such 
 as brass plates, etc., may form part of it. 
 In the practical working of the telegraph, 
 the battery with the key attached, and 
 a small table, being supposed, for example, 
 to be at the Philadelphia station, and the 
 telegraph register to be at New York, 
 a wire runs from the platina plate up to 
 the metallic binding screw connection on 
 
 the small table, and the other wire runs 
 from the zinc, and is connected by the first 
 wire by the metallic connection of the 
 register at New York. This forms the 
 circuit. The key is fixed upon a pivot 
 axis, to be gently pressed by the operator's 
 fingers on the top of an ivory button. 
 The circuit is now broken, and a small gap 
 in the key above the wire from the battery 
 -shows the metallic connection to be open. 
 By pressing upon the butt end of the key, 
 its metal surface comes in contact with the 
 metal termination of the wire from the 
 battery, and then the circuit is closed, and 
 the electric fluid fleets along to the distant 
 station. 
 
 In connection with the register, there 
 is, as has already been stated, a strip or 
 ribbon of paper passing from the roll 
 between two small metal rollers of the 
 register. This strip is drawn through 
 between the rollers by their motion, they 
 revolving towards the paper roll, drawing 
 in the paper, motion being given to these 
 rollers by a train of clock-work gear wheels, 
 moved by the weight below the machine. 
 The upper small roll has a small groove run- 
 ning around its periphery, and the ribbon 
 of paper is drawn through against its 
 under surface. The instrument for in- 
 denting the paper is suspended on a 
 pivot axis at its middle, and its action is 
 like a walking-beam, though the stroke 
 made is very short. This pen-lever is 
 very nicely poised, and at its extreme end 
 from the paper its stroke is neatly regu- 
 lated by a set or button screw. The metal 
 pen is attached to the lever and fixed on a 
 pivot like a walking-beam. When one 
 end is drawn down, the other end flies up, 
 and, having a steel point on it, it marks 
 the strip of paper, already described as 
 running along a roller, and which is drawn 
 along between other two rollers. Then, 
 by letting the other end of this pen 
 come up, the steel point drops, and 
 then it is thrown up again, leaving a space 
 between the two marks on the paper. As, 
 therefore, the paper is always moving and, 
 as the point is held to it for a longer or 
 shorter time, marks are made as before 
 
MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 247 
 
 explained of dots, spaces and dashes, and 
 by a combination of these the whole 
 alphabet is formed, the letters made into 
 words, and the words into sentences. The 
 electro-magnet is fitted with an armature, 
 whose attraction and withdrawal gives 
 motion to the lever. Instead of reading 
 off from the strip of paper, operators in 
 *ime trusted to sound. 
 
 But, though Professor Morse exhibited 
 the model of his recording apparatus in 
 1835 and 1836, it was not until after some 
 years' additional toil that he brought it to 
 the above-described efficiency and its sub- 
 sequent improvement and perfection. He 
 made no efforts to bring the matter 
 definitely before the public until the 
 autumn of 1837, when, in its advanced 
 state of completion, he exhibited to an 
 appreciating and wonder-struck auditory, 
 its marvelous operation. The announce- 
 ment of the invention and its astonishing 
 capacity, was for a long time the most 
 prominent theme of public and private 
 discussion, admiration being largely min- 
 gled with blank incredulity, and not a little 
 ridicule. Even in congress, on the appli- 
 cation of Professor Morse for government 
 aid, to enable him to demonstrate the value 
 of his invention by constructing a line 
 between Washington and Baltimore, in 
 1838, there were not found wanting learned 
 legislators who treated the idea as a mere 
 chimera. It, was the same congress of 
 which Espy, the " Storm King," was 
 asking assistance, to test his favorite 
 theory, then so prominently discussed. 
 
 Both Morse and Espy, says a writer of 
 that time and the event, became the butt 
 of ridicule, the target of merciless 
 arrows of wit. They were voted down- 
 right bores, and the idea of giving them 
 money was pronounced farcical. They 
 were considered monomaniacs, and as such 
 were laughed at, punned upon, and made 
 the standing staple for jokes. One morn- 
 ing, however, a gentleman rose from his 
 seat in the house quite to the astonish- 
 ment of everybody, for he had never been 
 known to speak before, unless it was to 
 vote or to address the speaker, and said, 
 
 "I hold in my hand a resolution, which I 
 respectfully offer for the consideration of 
 the house." In a moment a page was at 
 his desk, and the resolution was trans- 
 ferred to the speaker and by him delivered 
 to the clerk, who read as follows : 
 " Resolved, That the committee of ways 
 and means be instructed to inquire into 
 the expediency of appropriating $30,000, 
 to enable Professor Morse to establish a 
 line of telegraph between Washington and 
 Baltimore." The gentleman who offered 
 it was Mr. Ferris, one of the New York 
 representatives, a man of wealth and 
 learning, but modest, retiring, and diffi- 
 dent. 
 
 'iais being merely a resolution of 
 ino,uiry, it passed without opposition, and, 
 oul of regard to the mover, without com- 
 ment. In time, it came before the com- 
 mittee, all the members of which had, by 
 their public services and brilliant talents, 
 acquired a national reputation. The clerk 
 of the committee read the resolution. 
 The chairman, Mr. Fillmore, in a clear, 
 distinct voice, said, " Gentlemen, what 
 disposition shall be made of it ? " There 
 was a dead pause around the table. No 
 one seemed inclined to take the initiative. 
 It was expected that, inasmuch as the 
 mover of the resolution in the house was a 
 democrat, the democratic side of the com- 
 mittee would stand god-father to it there. 
 But not a bit of it. They felt that the 
 whole thing was preposterous and deserv- 
 ing of no countenance. At length, one on 
 the other side broke the ominous silence 
 by moving that the committee instruct 
 the chairman to report a bill to the house, 
 appropriating thirty thousand dollars for 
 the purpose named in the resolution. 
 
 This movement "brought them all up 
 standing ! " No speeches were made. 
 The question was called for. The yeas 
 and nays were taken alphabetically, and, 
 as four had voted on the affirmative side, 
 and four on the negative, it fell to the lot 
 of Governor Wallace, of Indiana, whose 
 name came last on the list, to decide the 
 question. He, however, had paid no atten- 
 tion to the matter, and, like the. majority of 
 
248 
 
 MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 people, considered it a great humbug. He 
 had not the faintest idea of the importance 
 to his country, of the vote he was to cast. 
 But as fortune would have i-t, the thought 
 came to mind that Mr. Morse was even 
 then experimenting in the capitol with the 
 " new-fangled invention," having stretched 
 a wire from the basement story to the 
 ante-room of the senate chamber. It was 
 therefore in Governor Wallace's power to 
 satisfy himself at once in regard to the 
 question of feasibility, and he determined 
 to try it. He asked leave to consider his 
 vote. This was granted. He imme- 
 diately stepped out of the committee room, 
 and went to the ante-chamber, which was 
 lound crowded with representatives and 
 strangers. Governor Wallace requested 
 permission to put a question to the " mad- 
 man " (Morse) at the other end of the 
 srire. It was granted immediately. He 
 
 wrote the question and handed it to the 
 telegrapher. The crowd cried "read! 
 read! " In a very short time the answer 
 was received. When written out by the 
 operator, the same cry of " read it ! read 
 it ! " went up from the crowd. 
 
 To his utter astonishment, Governor 
 Wallace found that the madman at that end 
 
 of the wire had more wit and force than the 
 congressmen at the other the laugh was 
 turned completely upon the committee-man. 
 But, as western men are rarely satisfied 
 with one fall not less than two failures 
 out of three attempts forcing from them 
 any acknowledgment of defeat, the 
 governor put a second yuestion, and there 
 came a second answer. If the first raised 
 a laugh at his expense, the second convert- 
 ed that laugh into a roar and a shout. 
 He was more than satisfied. Picking up 
 his hat, he bowed himself out of the 
 crowd, the good-natured shout following 
 him as he passed along the passages and 
 halls of the capitol. 
 
 As a matter of course, Governor Wallace 
 voted in the affirmative of the motion then 
 pending before the committee, and it 
 prevailed. The chairman reported the 
 bill, the house and senate concurred in its 
 passage, and thus was Professor Morse 
 successful in this his last struggle to 
 demonstrate the practicability of as 
 it has proved the most amazing in- 
 vention of the age, the electro-mag- 
 netic telegraph. If the committee had 
 ignored the proposition, there is no 
 telling what would have been the result. 
 That the experiment would have been 
 finally made, no one can entertain a 
 doubt. But when or by whom is the 
 question. It was not within the range 
 of ordinary individual fortune to make 
 it, and, if it was, none but Professor 
 Morse would have hazarded it. 
 
 It appears, however, that Professor 
 Morse came to the last stage of discour- 
 agement, in the prosecution of his appeal 
 to congress, before light finally broke 
 in upon him. On the very last day of 
 the session, the bill relating to his 
 case was the one hundred and twenti- 
 eth on the senate docket, to be acted upon 
 in course. Concerning this scene, a 
 writer in Harper's Monthly states, that 
 during the entire day Professor Morse 
 watched the course of legislation from the 
 gallery with nervous trepidation and the 
 deepest anxiety. At length, worn out 
 by the interminable discussion of some 
 
MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 249 
 
 senator who seemed to be speaking 
 against time, and overcome by his 
 prolonged watching, he left the gallery at 
 a late hour and went to his lodgings, 
 under the belief that it was not possible 
 his bill could be reached, and that he must 
 again turn his attention to those labors of 
 the brush and easel by means of which he 
 might be enabled to prosecute appeals to 
 congress at a future time. He accordingly 
 made his preparations to return to New 
 York on the following morning, and 
 retiring to rest, sank into a profound 
 slumber, from which he did not awake 
 until a late hour on the following morn- 
 ing. But a short time after, while seated 
 at the breakfast-table, the servant an- 
 nounced that a lad}' desired to see him. 
 Upon entering the parlor, he found Miss 
 Annie Ellsworth, the daughter of the 
 Commissioner of Patents, whose face was 
 all aglow with pleasure. 
 
 '' / have come to congratulate you" she 
 remarked, as he entered the room, and 
 approached to shake hands with her. 
 
 " To congratulate me ! " replied Mr. 
 Morse, " and for what ? " 
 
 " Why, upon the passage of your bill, 
 to be sure" she replied. 
 
 " You must surely be mistaken ; for I 
 left at a late hour, and its fate seemed 
 inevitable." 
 
 "Indeed I am not mistaken," she re- 
 joined; "father remained until the close 
 of the session, and your bill was the very 
 last that was acted on, and I begged 
 permission to convey to you the news. 
 I am so happy that I am the first to tell 
 
 you." 
 
 The feelings of Professor Morse may be 
 better imagined than described. He 
 grasped his young companion warmly by 
 the hand, and thanked her over and over 
 again for the joyful intelligence, saying 
 
 " As a reward for being the first bearer 
 of this news, you shall send over the tele- 
 graph the first message it conveys." 
 
 "I will hold you to that promise," 
 replied she ; " Remember ! " 
 
 " Remember ! " responded Professor 
 Morse ; and they parted. 
 
 The plans of Mr. Morse were now alto- 
 gether changed. His journey homeward 
 was abandoned, and he set to work to carry 
 out the project of establishing the line of 
 electro-telegraph, between Washington and 
 Baltimore, authorized by the bill. His 
 first idea was to convey the wires, inclosed 
 in a leaden tube, beneath the ground. He 
 had already arranged a plan by which the 
 wires, insulated by a covering of cotton 
 saturated in gum shellac, were to be 
 inserted into leaden pipes in the process 
 of casting. But after the expenditure of 
 several thousand dollars, and much delay 
 this plan was given up, and the one now 
 in use, of extending them on poles, 
 adopted. 
 
 By the month of May, 1844, the whole 
 line was laid, and magnets and recording 
 instruments were attached to the ends of 
 the wires at Mount Clare Depot, Balti- 
 more, and at the supreme court chamber, 
 in the capitol at Washington. When the 
 circuit was complete, and the signal at the 
 one end of the line was responded to by 
 the operator at the other, Mr. Morse sent 
 a messenger to Miss Ellsworth to inform 
 her that the telegraph awaited her mes- 
 sage. She speedily responded to this, and 
 sent for transmission the following, which 
 was the first formal dispatch ever sent 
 through a telegraphic wire connecting 
 remote places with each other : 
 
 " WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT ! " 
 
 The original of the message is now in 
 the archives of the Historical Society at 
 Hartford, Connecticut. The practicability 
 and utility of the invention were now 
 clearly and firmly established. 
 
 Of the subsequent history and triumphs 
 of this invention, it is scarcely necessary 
 here to speak. The lines of telegraphic 
 communication which now, like a web, 
 traverse the length and breadth of the 
 republic, and which, indeed, connect and 
 cover as with a ne' -work the four conti- 
 nents of the globe,- -these attest the vast- 
 ness, influence and power, of this amazing 
 invention. Nor is it necessary to specify 
 the details of those various mechanical 
 improvements in the construction and 
 
250 
 
 MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 working of the apparatus, as also its diver- 
 sified adaptation, brought forward by the 
 fertile genius of Morse, as well as by 
 House, Hughes, Phelps, Shaffner, O'Reilly, 
 Vail, Farmer, Page, Hicks, Ritchie, etc., 
 and which have secured to the whole system 
 of telegraphy its present wonderful degree 
 of scientific perfection, bringing to the 
 discoverer fame arid pecuniary fortune at 
 home, and also the most splendid medals, 
 decorations of honor, and " golden gifts," 
 from nearly all the crowned heads of 
 Europe. It is an interesting fact, that the 
 first kingly acknowledgment received by 
 Professor Morse, was the "Order of 
 Glory" from the Sultan of Turkey. The 
 rulers of Prussia, Wurtemberg, and Aus- 
 tria, sent him superb gold medals; the 
 emperor of the French made him a Cheva- 
 lier of the Legion of Honor, instituted by 
 Napoleon the First ; while Denmark made 
 him one of the knightly "Dannebrog," 
 and Spain a Knight Commander of the 
 Order of Isabella the Catholic. 
 
 powerful an enemy Abd-el-Kader proved 
 himself to the French, during the career 
 of conquest undertaken by the latter in 
 Algeria. On a certain occasion, during 
 that terrific struggle, the French telegraph 
 made the announcement : " Abd-el-Kader 
 
 has been taken ;" a fog, however, 
 
 enveloped the remainder of the sentence 
 in obscurity. The excitement, neverthe- 
 kss, in the money market, was at fever 
 height, at the supposed capture of that 
 adroit enemy, and the funds rose tremen- 
 dously. The following day, the sentence 
 being completed, the intelligence ran thus : 
 "Abd-el-Kader has been taken with a 
 dreadful cold in his head." The funds 
 fell, but the coup which was worthy of a 
 Rothschild's subtlety had been suffi- 
 ciently successful for those who managed 
 to make the telegraph play into the hands 
 of their financial agents. 
 
 A case of a somewhat different character 
 one involving the " tender passion " 
 was the following. A daughter of one of 
 
 ORDERS OF GLORY CONFERRED ON PROFESSOR MORSE. 
 
 An example or two of the humorous 
 side of the telegraph may here be given, 
 as a kind of side-relief to a subject 
 liable to be regarded as somewhat exclu- 
 sively involving abstract philosophical 
 science and the technical minutiae of its 
 application. 
 
 Probably no one is ignorant of how 
 
 the wealthiest merchants in Boston, Mass., 
 had formed an attachment for a handsome 
 young man, who was a clerk in her father's 
 counting-house. The father having heard 
 of the attachment, feigned ignorance of it, 
 with a view of enabling him more success- 
 fully to adopt measures that would break 
 it off. For this purpose he directed the 
 
 1 
 
MORSE'S INVENTION OF THE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 251 
 
 young man ;o proceed to England, upon 
 business; and the lover accordingly ar- 
 rived, on his route, in New York. In the 
 meantime, the enamored young lady had 
 got an inkling of her father's intentions, 
 and wishing to frustrate them effectually, 
 sent a message to that effect to her lover 
 in New York, by the following expedient: 
 She took her place in the telegraph office 
 in Boston, and he did the same with a 
 magistrate, in the New York office ; and 
 now, the exchange of consent being duly 
 given by the electric flash, they were mar- 
 ried by telegraph ! Shortly after, the 
 lady's father insisted upon her marriage 
 with the gentleman he had selected for 
 her ; and judge of his amazement when 
 she told him that she was already married 
 the wife of Mr. B., then on his way to 
 England; adding an explanation of the 
 novel way in which the ceremony was per- 
 formed. And so the matter ended ; adding 
 another to the triumphs of love and 
 electricity ! 
 
 During the revolutionary excitement in 
 Europe, in 1848, the astounding report 
 flashed across Europe, that the king of 
 Prussia had abdicated ! The statement 
 originated with the electric telegraph, 
 which sent the following dispatch : " The 
 King of Prussia has gone to Pot ." 
 In another minute, the communication in 
 this form was on its way to the news- 
 paper bulletins, and was immediately tele- 
 graphed thence in every dirsction. Not 
 long after, however, the dial was again 
 agitated, and then "* dam" was added; 
 making the very quiet piece of news. 
 
 "The King of Prussia has gone to PotB- 
 dam." 
 
 In the early days of telegraphing, the 
 competition for priority among the lead- 
 ing journals was very great, and feats were 
 performed which, for that day of the art's 
 infancy, were indeed marvelous. One 
 instance will suffice : 
 
 An important speech by Mr. Clay was 
 much looked for. It was delivered in 
 Lexington, Ky., on a Saturday, and the 
 proprietor of the New York Herald deter- 
 mined on beating his contemporaries. 
 Express riders were ready, and in less 
 than five hours a full report of the speech 
 was in Cincinnati. Notifications had been 
 sent along the line of telegraph to "look 
 out ; " and at four o'clock on Sunday 
 morning, the publisher of the Herald had 
 the speech before him in New York the 
 distance being more than eleven hundred 
 miles. This was done during a heavy rain, 
 and while a thunder shower was passing 
 over a portion of both the eastern and 
 western lines. At Cincinnati, where it 
 was to be copied in passing, the telegraph 
 suddenly ceased working, to the dismay of 
 the superintendent. .Being short of proper 
 hands, he mounted a horse, and followed 
 the line, through the pelting storm, until 
 he found a break, caused by the falling of 
 a tree, beyond Turtle Creek, a distance of 
 twenty-one miles. He finished mending 
 the break at dark, and then returned to 
 the city, where, in the temporary absence 
 of other competent operators, received the 
 speech and sent it to New York, finishing 
 it at four o'clock in the morning. 
 
XXXI. 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION IN CON- 
 GRESS. 1836. 
 
 John Quincy Adams, the " Old Man Eloquent," Carries on a Contest of Eleven Days, Single-Handed, 
 in its Defense, in the House of Representatives Passage of the " Gag Rule." Expulsion and Assas- 
 sination Threatened. His Unquaiiing Courage. A Spectacle Unwitnessed Before in the Halls of 
 Legislation Triumph of His Master Mind. The Highland Petitiona Constitutional One. Indiscrim- 
 inate and Unrestricted. Anti-Slavery Petitions. Mr. Adams Their Champion. An Unpopular Posi- 
 tion. He Defies every Menace. His Bold and Intrepid Conduct. The North and South at Variance. 
 Monster Petitions Pour In A Memorial from Slaves. Wild Tumult in the House. Cries of " Expel 
 the Old Scoundrel ! " Proposal to Censure and Disgrace Him Mr. Adams Unmoved Amidst the 
 Tempest. Eloquence and Indomitableness A Petition to Dissolve the Union. Increased Exasper- 
 ation. Violent and Denunciatory Debate. Sublime Bearing of Mr. Adams. Vindicated and Vic- 
 torious at Last What He Lived to See. Honor from His Opponents. 
 
 " Though aged, he wa K> iron of limb, 
 None of the youth could cope with htmt 
 And the fitrn whom ha singly kept at bay, 
 Outnumbered his hairs of white and gray. 
 
 JENERABLE in years, and laden with political 
 honors such as a king might be proud of, John 
 Quincy Adams took his seat as a member of the 
 house of representatives at Washington, in 1831. 
 It was about this time, that the anti-slavery socie- 
 ties of the North began to petition congress for the 
 abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, the 
 inhibition of the inter-state slave-trade, and kin- 
 dred measures. Though comparatively few at the 
 outset, the petitioners for these objects increased 
 greatly in numbers during the next four or five 
 years, until they reached, in one congress, three- 
 fourths of a million. But not all of these petition- 
 ers were 'abolitionists,' in the then commonly 
 accepted meaning of that term. In the defense of 
 the untrammeled right of petition, as also that of 
 
 MONSTER PETITION TO CONGRESS. the freedom of speech and of the press, it became 
 erident to considerate men, of all parties, that not alone was the right to discuss and 
 petition in regard to slavery involved, but that vital constitutional principles were at 
 stake, and that these must be defended, irrespective of the merits of the particular sub- 
 ject over which the battle was waged. It was upon this broad ground that Mr. Adams, 
 
STRUGGLE FOE THE EIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 ' the old man eloquent,' as he was famil- 
 iarly called, became at once the champion 
 of freedom of debate and the right of peti- 
 tion in the national legislature, making 
 not America only, but the civilized world, 
 resound with the clash of the conflict. Of 
 the long and eventful life of this extraor- 
 dinary man, the chapter covering the 
 events here recorded may perhaps be 
 regarded as the most striking and brilliant. 
 The exalted positions he had held, almost 
 from the very foundation of the govern- 
 ment, his multifarious learning, his world- 
 wide renown, lent luster to the cause ; 
 while his exhaustless resources, his skill in 
 debate, his dauntless courage and indomit- 
 able will, were a tower of strength to its 
 friends, and, as the sequel will show, a 
 source of mortification and discomfit- 
 ure to its foes. No threats and no tu- 
 mults could for a moment cause him to 
 quail or waver in his heroic determina- 
 tion. 
 
 On the twelfth of December, 1831, Mr. 
 Adams, then at the very outset of his con- 
 gressional career, presented fifteen peti- 
 tions, all numerously signed, from inhabi- 
 tants of Pennsylvania, praying for the 
 abolition of slavery and the slave-trade in 
 the District of Columbia. In presenting 
 these petitions, Mr. Adams remarked, that 
 although the petitioners were not his 
 immediate constituents, he inferred, from a 
 letter which accompanied the petitions, 
 that they came from members of the Soci- 
 ety of Friends, or Quakers, a body of 
 men, hs declared, than whom there was no 
 more respectable and worth}' class of citi- 
 zens in the whole country. At the same 
 time, while he considered that the petitions 
 for the abolition of the slave-trade in the 
 District related to a proper subject for the 
 legislation of Congress, he did not approve 
 of those which prayed for the congressional 
 abolition of slavery there. 
 
 Similar petitions were constantly for- 
 warded from different parts of the land, 
 during successive terms of congress, for 
 Mr. Adams to present, the parties well 
 knowing that they could rely upon his 
 scrupulous fidelity to them in the high 
 
 places of power, and that, against all men- 
 aces or blandishments, hu would intrepidly 
 advocate that most sacred privilege of free- 
 men the right of petition. 
 
 Becoming alarmed at these demonstra- 
 tions, the southern members of congress 
 determined to arrest them, and, on the 
 eighth of February, 1836, a committee of 
 the house was appointed to consider what 
 disposition should be made of petitions and 
 memorials of this nature. The report of 
 this committee consisted, in substance, of 
 three resolutions, as follows : First, that 
 congress could not constitutionally inter- 
 fere with slavery in anj' of the states ; 
 second, that it ought not to interfere with 
 slavery in the District of Columbia ; third, 
 that all petitions, propositions, or papers of 
 any kind, relating to the subject, should, 
 if brought before congress, be laid upon 
 the table, without liberty of debate, and 
 receive no further action. This report 
 was the casting of the die. Well was it 
 called the " Gag Eule." 
 
 When the first of these resolutions was 
 taken up, Mr. Adams said, if the house 
 would allow him five minutes' time, he 
 would prove the resolution to be untrue. 
 His request was denied. On the third 
 declaration, Mr. Adams refused to vote, 
 and sent to the speaker's chair the follow- 
 ing protest, demanding that it should be 
 placed on the journal of the house, there 
 to stand to the latest posterity : 
 
 " I hold the resolution to be a direct vio- 
 lation of the constitution of the United 
 States, of the rules of this house, and of 
 the rights of my constituents." 
 
 Notwithstanding the rule embodied in 
 this resolution virtuallj 1 trampled the right 
 of petition into the dust, yet it was adopted 
 by the house, by a large majority. But 
 Mr. Adams was not to be baffled by this 
 arbitrary restriction. Petitions on the 
 subject of slavery continued to be trans- 
 mitted to him in increased numbers, some 
 of them of monster size, bearing thousands 
 of signatures. With unwavering firmness 
 against a bitter and unscrupulous oppo- 
 sition, exasperated to the highest pitch by 
 his unconquerable pertinacity amidst a 
 
254 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 perfect tempest of vituperation and abuse 
 he persevered, unvanquished, in present- 
 ing these petitions, one by one, to the 
 amount sometimes of two hundred in a 
 day, and demanding the attention of the 
 house on each ssparate petition. His 
 position in these scenes, advocating, 
 amidst scorn and derision, and threats of 
 expulsion and assassination, the inalienable 
 
 right of petition for the poorest and hum- 
 blest in the land, was in the highest 
 degree illustrious and sublime ; a spectacle 
 unwitnessed before in the halls of legisla- 
 tion. 
 
 On the sixth of January, 1837, Mr. 
 Adams presented the petition of one hun- 
 dred and fifty women, whom he stated to 
 be the wives and daughters of his immedi- 
 ate constituents, praying for the abolition 
 of slavery in the District of Columbia; 
 and he moved that the petition be read. 
 Objection was made, whereupon Mr. 
 Adams remarked that, understanding that 
 it was not the petition itself which was 
 laid upon the table, but the motion to 
 receive, he gave notice that he should call 
 up that motion, for decision, every day, so 
 long as freedom of speech was allowed to 
 him as a member of the house. Being 
 called to order at this stage of proceedings, 
 Mr. Adams said he would then have the 
 honor of presenting to the house the peti- 
 tion of two hundred and twenty-eight 
 women, the wives and daughters of his 
 
 immediate constituents ; and, as a part Qi 
 the speech which he intended to make, he 
 would take the liberty of reading the peti- 
 tion, which was not long, and would not 
 consume much time. Objection being 
 made to the reception of the petition, Mr. 
 Adams at once proceeded to read, that the 
 petitioners, inhabitants of South Wey- 
 mouth, in the state of Massachusetts, 
 " impressed with the siiifulness of slavery, 
 and keenly aggrieved by its existence ir> 
 a part of our country over which con- 
 gress " 
 
 Here Mr. Pinckney, of South Carolina, 
 rose to a question of order, and, after a 
 brisk colloquy in the house, the speaker 
 ruled that Mr. Adams must confine hini- 
 self to stating the contents of the petition. 
 
 Mr. Adams. I am doing so, sir. 
 
 The Speaker. Not in the opinion of 
 the chair. 
 
 Mr. Adams. I was at this point of the 
 petition : " Keenly aggrieved by its exist- 
 ence in a part of our country over which 
 congress possesses exclusive jurisdiction 
 in all cases whatsoever " 
 
 Loud cries of " Order," " Order ! " 
 
 Mr. Adams. " Do most earnestly peti- 
 tion your honorable body " 
 
 Mr. Chambers, of Kentucky, rose to a 
 point of order. 
 
 Mr. Adams. " Immediately to abolish 
 slavery in the District of Columbia " 
 
 Mr. Chambers reiterated his call to 
 order, and the Speaker directed Mr. 
 Adams to take his seat. 
 
 Mr. Adams proceeded, however, with 
 great rapidity of enunciation, and in a 
 very loud tone of voice " And to declare 
 every human being free who sets foot upon 
 its soil ! " 
 
 The confusion in the hall at this time 
 was very great. The speaker decided that 
 it was not in order for a member to read a 
 petition, whether it was long or short. 
 
 Mr. Adams appealed from any decision 
 which went to establish the principle that 
 a member of the United States house of 
 representatives should not have the power 
 to read what he chose. He had never 
 before heard of such a thing. If the hith- 
 
STRUGGLE FOB THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 255 
 
 erto invariable practice was to be reversed, 
 let the decision stand upon record, and let 
 it appear how entirely the freedom of 
 speech was suppressed in this house. If 
 the reading of a paper was to be suppressed 
 in his person, so help him God, he would 
 only consent to it as a matter of record. 
 Saying this, he instantly resumed and 
 finished the reading of the petition, that 
 the petitioners 
 
 " respectfully announce their inten- 
 tion to present the same petition yearly 
 before this honorable body, that it might 
 at least be a memorial in the holy cause of 
 human freedom, that they had done what 
 they could." 
 
 These words were read by Mr. Adams, 
 at the top of his voice, amidst tumultuous 
 cries of " order " from every part of the 
 house. The petition was finally received, 
 and laid upon the table. 
 
 One month after this, namely, on the 
 seventh of February, after Mr. Adams had 
 offered some two hundred or more aboli- 
 tion petitions, he came to a halt, and, with- 
 out yielding the floor, employed himself in 
 packing up or arranging his budget of 
 documents. He was about resuming his 
 seat, when, suddenly glancing at a paper 
 on his desk, he took it up, and exclaimed, 
 in a shrill tone 
 
 " Mr. Speaker, I have in my possession, 
 a petition of a somewhat extraordinary 
 character; and I wish to inquire of the 
 chair if it be in order to present it." 
 
 The Speaker replied, that if the gentle- 
 man from Massachusetts would state the 
 character of the petit'on, the chair would 
 probably be able to decide on the subject. 
 
 "Sir," ejaculated Mr. Adams, "the 
 petition is signed by eleven slaves of the 
 town of Fredericksburg, in the county of 
 Culpepper, in the state of Virginia. It is 
 one of those petitions which, it has oc- 
 curred to my mind, are not what they 
 purport to be. It is signed partly by per- 
 sons who cannot write, by making their 
 marks, and partly by persons whose hand- 
 writing would manifest that they have 
 received the education of slaves. The 
 petition declares itself to be from slaves, 
 
 and I am requested to present it. I will 
 send it to the chair." 
 
 The speaker, Mr. Polk, who habitually 
 extended to Mr. Adams every courtesy 
 and kindness imaginable, was taken by 
 surprise, and found himself involved in a 
 dilemma. Giving his chair one of those 
 hitches which ever denoted his excitement, 
 he said that a petition from slaves was a 
 novelty, and involved a question that he 
 did not feel called on to decide. He 
 would like to take time to consider it ; and, 
 in the meantime, would refer it to the 
 house. The house was very thin at the 
 time, and but little attention was paid to 
 what was going on, till the excitement of 
 the speaker attracted the attention of Mr. 
 Dixon H. Lewis, of Alabama, who impa- 
 tiently, and under great excitement, rose 
 and inquired what the petition was. The 
 speaker furnished the required informa- 
 tion ; whereupon Mr. Lewis, forgetting all 
 discretion, whilst he frothed at the mouth, 
 turned towards Mr. Adams, and exclaimed, 
 in thunder-tones 
 
 " By , sir, this is not to be endured 
 
 any longer I" 
 
 "Treason ! treason ! Expel the old scoun- 
 drel ; put him out; do not let him disgrace 
 the house any longer," screamed a half 
 dozen other members. 
 
 " Get up a resolution to meet the case," 
 exclaimed a member from North Carolina. 
 Mr. George C. Dromgoole, who had ac- 
 quired quite a reputation as a parliamen- 
 tarian, was selected as the very man who, 
 of all others, was most capable of drawing 
 up a resolution that would meet and cover 
 the emergency. He produced a resolution 
 and preamble, in which it was stated, sub- 
 stantially, that, whereas the Hon. John 
 Quincy Adams, a representative from Mas- 
 sachusetts, had presented to the house a 
 petition signed by negro slaves, thus 
 " giving color to an idea " that bondmen 
 were capable of exercising the right of 
 petition, it was " Resolved, That he be 
 taken to the bar of the house, and be cen- 
 sured by the speaker thereof." 
 
 A still more stringent resolution was 
 introduced by Hon. Waddy Thompson, 
 
256 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 namely, that Mr. Adams, "having been 
 guilty of gross disrespect to the house, be 
 instantly brought to the bar, to receive 
 the severe censure of the speaker." Sev- 
 eral other resolutions and propositions, 
 irom members of slave-holding states, were 
 submitted, but none proved satisfactory 
 even to themselves. The idea of bringing 
 the venerable ex-president to the bar, like 
 a culprit, to receive a reprimand from a 
 comparatively youthful speaker, was equal- 
 ly disgraceful and absurd. Mr. Adams, 
 however, entirely unmoved by the tempest 
 which raged around him, defended him- 
 self, and the integrity of his purpose, with 
 his accustomed ability and eloquence. 
 
 "In regard to the resolutions now 
 before the house," said he, "as they all 
 concur in naming me, and in charging me 
 with high crimes and misdemeanors, and 
 in calling me to the bar of the house to 
 answer for my crimes, I have thought it 
 was my duty to remain silent, until it 
 should be the pleasure of the house to act 
 either on one or the other of these resolu- 
 tions. I suppose that if I shall be brought 
 to the bar of the house, I shall not be 
 struck mute by the previous question, 
 before I hare an opportunity to say a word 
 or two in my own defense." 
 
 "Now, as to the fact what the petition 
 was for," said Mr. Adams, in another por- 
 tion of his speech, " I simply state to the 
 gentleman from Alabama, who has sent to 
 the table a resolution assuming that this 
 petition was for the abolition of slavery 
 I state to him that he is mistaken. He 
 must amend his resolution; for if the 
 house should choose to read this petition, 
 I can state to them they would find it 
 something very much the reverse of that 
 which the resolution states it to be. And 
 if the gentleman from Alabama still 
 chooses to bring me to the bar of the 
 house, he must amend his resolution in a 
 very important particular; for he may 
 probably have to put into it, that my crime 
 has been for attempting to introduce the 
 petition of slaves that slavery should not 
 be abolished." 
 
 .Reiterating the principle, that the right 
 
 of petition belongs to all, Mr. Adams said 
 that he felt it a sacred duty to present any 
 petition, couched in respectful language, 
 from any citizen of the United States, be 
 its object what it might, be the prayer of 
 it that in which he could concur, or that to 
 which he was utterly opposed; no law 
 could be found, even in the most abject 
 despotism, which deprives even the mean- 
 est or most degraded, of the right to sup- 
 plicate for a boon, or to pray for mercy ; 
 there is no absolute monarch on earth, who 
 is not compelled to receive the petitions of 
 his people, whosoever they may be, not 
 even the sultan of Turkey can walk the 
 streets and refuse to receive petitions from 
 the lowest and vilest of the land. 
 
 Whsn southern members saw that, in 
 their haste, they had not tarried to ascer- 
 tain the nature of the petition, and that it 
 prayed for the perpetuation, instead of the 
 abolition of slavery, their position became 
 so ludicrous, that their exasperation was 
 greatly increased. At the time the 
 petition was announced by Mr. Adams, 
 the house was very thin; but the excite- 
 ment that was produced soon filled it; 
 and, besides, the sergeant-at-arms had been 
 instructed to arrest and bring in all absen- 
 tees. The excitement commenced at about 
 one o'clock, and continued until seven 
 o'clock in the evening, when the house 
 adjourned. Mr. Adams stood at his desk, 
 resolutely refusing to be seated till the 
 matter was disposed of, alleging that if 
 he were guilty, he was not entitled to a 
 seat among high and honorable men. 
 When Mr. Dromgoole's resolution was 
 read to the house, for its consideration, 
 Mr. Adams yielded to it one of those sar- 
 castic sneers which he was in the habit of 
 giving, when provoked to satire ; and said 
 "Mr. Speaker, if I understand the reso- 
 lution of the honorable gentleman from 
 Virginia, it charges me with being guilty 
 of ' giving color to an idea ! ' " The whole 
 house broke forth in one common, irrepres- 
 sible peal of laughter, at this capital double 
 entendre; and the Dromgoole resolution 
 was actually laughed out of existence. 
 The house now found that it had got itself 
 
STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 257 
 
 in a dilemma that Mr. Adams was too 
 much for it; and, at last, adjourned, leav- 
 ing the affair in the position in which 
 they found it. 
 
 For several days this subject continued 
 to agitate the house and the nation. Mr. 
 Adams not only warded off the virulent 
 attacks made upon him, but carried the 
 war so effectually into the camp of his ene- 
 mies, that, becoming heartily tired of the 
 contest, they repeatedly endeavored to get 
 rid of the whole subject by laying it on 
 the table. To this Mr. Adams objected. 
 He insisted that it should be thoroughly 
 canvassed. Immense excitement contin- 
 ued, and call after call of the house was 
 made. At length, the subject was brought 
 to a termination by the passage of a pre- 
 amble and resolution much softened 
 down, in comparison with what was at first 
 proposed declaring that the paper cannot 
 be received, and that slaves have no right 
 to petition. 
 
 The slave petition in question is believed 
 to have been a counterfeit, manufactured 
 by certain members of congress from 
 slave-holding states, and was sent to Mr. 
 Adams by way of experiment with the 
 double design of ascertaining if he could 
 be imposed upon ; and, if the deception 
 succeeded, those who got it up were curi- 
 ous to know if the venerable statesman 
 would redeem his pledge, and present a 
 petition, no matter who it came from. He 
 was too wily not to detect the plot at the 
 outset ; he knew that all was a hoax ; but 
 he resolved to present the paper, and then 
 turn the tables upon its authors. 
 
 His success in thus defeating his oppo- 
 nents on their mad intention of censure, 
 was one of the most signal instances of 
 personal and parliamentary triumph. In 
 vain did they threaten assassination, 
 indictment before the grand jury, and 
 other proceedings, to seal his lips in 
 silence. In vain, too, did they declare 
 that he should "be made amenable to 
 another tribunal (mob law), and, as an 
 incendiary, be brought to condign puni?h- 
 ment." " My life on it," said a southern 
 member, " if he presents that petition from 
 
 slaves, we shall yet see him within the 
 walls of the penitentiary." Firm stood 
 the white-haired sage of more than seventy 
 winters, and with withering rebukes 
 repelled his hot-blooded assailants. His 
 clarion voice rang defiantly through the 
 hall, as he said 
 
 "Do the gentlemen from the south 
 think they can frighten me by their 
 threats ? If that be their object, let me 
 tell them, sir, they have precisely mistaken 
 their man. I am not to be frightened 
 from the discharge of a sacred duty, by 
 their indignation, by their violence, nor, 
 sir, by all the grand juries in the universe. 
 I have do::e only my duty ; and I shall do 
 it again, under the same circumstances, 
 even though they recur to-morrow." 
 
 On the twenty-fourth of January, 1842, 
 Mr. Adams presented the petition of forty- 
 five citizens of Haverhill, Massachusetts, 
 praying that congress would immediately 
 take measures peaceably to dissolve the 
 Union of the States : First, because no 
 union can be agreeable which does not 
 present prospects of reciprocal benefits ; 
 second, because a vast proportion of the 
 resources of one section of the Union is 
 annually drained to sustain the views and 
 course of another section, without any 
 adequate return; third, because, judging 
 from the history of past nations, such a 
 union, if persisted in, in the present course 
 of things, would certainly overwhelm the 
 whole nation in utter destruction. 
 
 Mr. Adams moved that the petition be 
 referred to a select committee, with in- 
 structions to report an answer showing the 
 reasons why the prayer of it ought not to 
 be granted. 
 
 Immediate and wild excitement fol- 
 lowed the presentation of this petition. 
 Mr. Hopkins, of Virginia, moved to burn 
 it in presence of the house. Mr. Wise, of 
 the same state, asked the speaker if it was 
 in order to move to censure an}' member 
 for presenting such a petition. Mr. 
 Gilmer, also of Virginia, moved a resolu- 
 tion, that Mr. Adams, for presenting such 
 a petition, had justly incurred the censure 
 of the house. Mr. Adams said he hoped 
 
258 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS DEFENDING THE BIGHT OF PETITION IN CONOKESS. 
 
 that the resolution would be received and 
 discussed. Angry debate continued, until 
 the house adjourned. 
 
 The next day, the whole body of south- 
 ern members came into the house, appar- 
 ently resolved to crush Mr. Adams and his 
 cause the right of petition forever. 
 They gathered in groups, conversed in 
 whispers, and the whole aspect of their 
 conduct at twelve o'clock indicated the 
 approach of some high-handed proceeding. 
 Thomas F. Marshall, of Kentucky, who 
 had been selected as spokesman for the 
 occasion, rose, and, having asked and 
 received of Mr. Gilmer leave to offer a 
 substitute for his resolution of censure 
 which was pending at the adjournment, 
 presented three resolutions, which had 
 been prepared at a caucus, the night 
 before, and which declared that the peti- 
 tion in question involved a proposition to 
 the house to commit perjury and high 
 treason, and that Mr. Adams, for offering 
 it, receive the severest censure of that 
 body. 
 
 Assuming a manner and tone as if he 
 
 felt the historical importance of his posi- 
 tion, he spoke with great coolness and 
 solemnity, a style wholly unusual with 
 him ; exhibited, too, a magisterial air, and 
 judicial consequence, as if he thought that 
 he was about to pour down the thunder of 
 condemnation on the venerable object of 
 his attack, as a judge pronouncing sentence 
 on a convicted culprit, in the sight of 
 approving men and angels. The vast 
 audience before whom he spoke were not 
 to be left in any doubt of his eminent 
 capacity to act the part he had assumed, 
 of prosecutor, judge, and executioner. 
 
 When Mr. Marshall concluded, the 
 chair announced to Mr. Adams that his 
 position entitled him to the floor ; bringing 
 up to the imagination a parallel scene 
 ' Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art 
 permitted to speak for thyself.' 
 
 Up rose, then, that bald, gray old man, 
 his hands trembling with constitutional 
 infirmity and age, upon whose consecrated 
 head the vials of partisan wrath had been 
 outpoured. Among the crowd of slave- 
 holders who filled the galleries he could 
 
STRUGGLE FOE THE EIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 259 
 
 seek no friends, and but a few among those 
 immediately around him. Unexcited, he 
 raised his voice, high-keyed, as was usual 
 with him, but clear, untremulous, and 
 firm. In a moment his infirmities disap- 
 peared, although his shaking hand could 
 not but be noticed ; trembling not with 
 fear, but with age. At first there was 
 nothing of indignation in his tone, manner, 
 or words. Surprise and cold contempt 
 were all. The thread of his great discourse 
 was mainly his present and past relations 
 to Virginia and Virginians. After grate- 
 fully acknowledging his infinite obligations 
 to the great Virginians of the first age of 
 the federal republic, he modestly and 
 unpretendingly recounted the unsought, 
 exalted honors, heaped upon him by Wash- 
 ington, Madison, and Monroe, and detailed 
 with touching simplicity and force some of 
 his leading actions in the discharge of 
 these weighty trusts. In pursuing his 
 remarks, he chanced to fix his eye upon 
 Marshall, who was moving down one of 
 the side-aisles. Instantly, at the sugges- 
 tion of the moment, he burst forth in a 
 touching appeal to the hallowed memory 
 of Marshall, the venerated and immaculate 
 Virginian, through a long career of judi- 
 cial honor and usefulness. With a flash 
 of withering scorn, Mr. Adams struck at 
 the unhappy Marshall of another day. A 
 single breath blew all his mock-judicial 
 array into air and smoke. In a tone of 
 insulted majesty and reinvigorated spirit, 
 Mr. Adams then said, in reply to the auda- 
 cious charge of high treason, 
 
 " I call for the reading of the first para- 
 graph of the Declaration of Independence. 
 Bead it ! read it ! and see what that says 
 of the right of a people to reform, to 
 change, to dissolve their government." 
 
 The look, the tone, the gesture, of the 
 insulted patriot, at that instant, were most 
 imposing. He seemed to have renewed his 
 youth like the eagles, and his voice was 
 that of sovereign command. The burthen 
 of seventy-five winters rolled off, and he 
 rose above the puny things around him. 
 When the passage of the Declaration was 
 read which solemnly proclaims the right 
 
 of reform, revolution, and resistance to 
 oppression, the grand old man thundered 
 out 
 
 " Read that again ! " 
 
 Looking proudly around on the listen- 
 ing audience, he heard his triumphant 
 vindication sounded forth in the glorious 
 sentences of the nation's Magna Charta, 
 written by Mr. Jefferson, a Virginian. 
 The sympathetic revulsion of feeling was 
 intense, though voiceless ; every drop of 
 free, honest blood in that vast assemblage 
 bounded with high impulse, every fiber 
 thrilled with excitement. The members 
 of the house were all gathered around him, 
 even his persecutors paying involuntary 
 tribute to the 'old man eloquent.' Lord 
 Morpeth was an attentive spectator and 
 auditor ; and so were governors, senators, 
 judgos, and other high officials, innumera- 
 ble. A strong exhibition of the facts in 
 the case, mostly in cold, calm, logical, 
 measured sentences, concluded Mr. Adams's 
 effort, and he sat down, vindicated, victo- 
 rious. 
 
 Intemperate debates, with violence undi- 
 minished, succeeded, in which all the 
 topics of party censure, from the adoption 
 of the constitution, were collected and 
 heaped upon Mr. Adams, by Marshall, 
 Wise, Gilmer, and others. No description 
 can do justice to the effective eloquence of 
 Mr. Adams in reply, including amusing 
 particulars of missives he had received 
 from the south threatening him with 
 assassination ; among other kindly hints, 
 of this sort, sent through the post-office, 
 being a colored lithograph portrait of him- 
 self, with the picturesque annotation of a 
 rifle-ball on the forehead, and a promise 
 that such a remedy would "stop his 
 music." 
 
 On the eleventh day of this debate, Mr. 
 Adams, in opening his defense, stated it 
 as his intention to go over the whole affair, 
 and that he should require a great deal 
 more time, in addition to what had already 
 been consumed; but he was willing to 
 forego it all, provided it could be done 
 without sacrificing his rights, the rights 
 of his constituents, and those of the peti- 
 
260 
 
 STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 tioners. He then stated, that if any 
 gentleman would make a motion to lay the 
 whole subject that of which Marshall 
 had been made the champion on the 
 table, he would forbear to proceed with 
 his defense. This motion was at once 
 made by Mr. Botts, of Virginia, and car- 
 ried by a vote of one hundred and six to 
 ninety-three. The petition from Haverhill 
 was then refused to be received, three- 
 fourths of the house voting against it. 
 
 It would appear well-nigh incredible, 
 that a venerable man like Mr. Adams 
 should be able to carry on, for eleven 
 days, almost single-handed, so great a con- 
 test. That this was due, in no small 
 degree, to his consummate skill as a par- 
 liamentarian, cannot be questioned. The 
 following memorable instance of his power 
 in this respect, will form a fitting close to 
 this chapter. 
 
 At the opening of the twenty-sixth con- 
 gress, the clerk began to cail the roll of 
 the members, according to custom. Whon 
 he came to New Jersey, he stated that 
 five seats of the members from that state 
 were contested, and that, not feeling him- 
 self authorized to decide the question, he 
 should pass over those names, and proceed 
 with the call. This gave rise to a general 
 and violent debate on the steps to be pur- 
 sued under such circumstances. Innumer- 
 able questions were raised, and proposi- 
 tions made, but the house could not agree 
 upon the mode of proceeding, and, from 
 the second to the fifth day, the house 
 remained in a perfectly disorganized state, 
 and in inextricable confusion, the clerk 
 acting as the tool of his party. But the 
 hour of disenthrallment was at hand ; a 
 scene was to be presented which would 
 send the mind back to those days when 
 Cromwell exclaimed, " Sir Harry Vane ! 
 wo unto you, Sir Harry Vane ! " and in 
 an instant dispersed the famous rump par- 
 liament. 
 
 Mr. Adams, from the opening of this 
 scene of confusion and anarch}', had main- 
 tained a profound silence. He appeared 
 to be engaged most of the time in writing. 
 To a common observer lie seemed to be 
 
 reckless of everything around him. But 
 nothing, not the slightest incident, escaped 
 him. 
 
 The fourth day of the struggle had 
 now commenced. Mr. Hugh A. Garland, 
 the clerk, was directed to call the roll 
 again. He commenced with Maine, as 
 usual in those days, and was proceeding 
 towards Massachusetts. Mr. Adams was 
 now observed to be holding himself in 
 readiness to get the floor at the earliest 
 moment possible. His eye was riveted 
 on the clerk, his hands clasped the front 
 adge of his desk, where he always placed 
 them to assist him in rising. He looked, 
 in the language of Otway, like a 'fowler 
 eager for his prey.' 
 
 " New Jersey ! " ejaculated Mr. Hugh 
 Garland, "and the clerk has to repeat 
 that " 
 
 Mr. Adams sprang to the floor ! 
 
 " I rise to interrupt the clerk," was his 
 first ejaculation. 
 
 " Silence, silence ! " resounded through 
 the hall. " Hear him, hear him ! Hear 
 what he has to say ! Hear John Quincy 
 Adams ! " was vociferated on all sides. 
 
 In an instant, such profound silence 
 reigned throughout the vast chamber, that 
 the fall of a leaf of paper might have been 
 heard in any part of it; and every eye was 
 riveted on the venerable Nestor of Massa- 
 chusetts, one of the purest of statesmen 
 and noblest of men ! He paused for a 
 moment, and, having given Mr. Garland 
 a withering look, he proceeded to address 
 the dense throng. 
 
 "It was not my intention," said he, "to 
 take an}' part in these extraordinary pro- 
 ceedings. I had hoped that this house 
 would succeed in organizing itself; that a 
 speaker and clerk would be elected, and 
 that the ordinary business of legislation 
 would have been progressed in. This is 
 not the time, or place, to discuss the 
 merits of the conflicting claimants for 
 seats from New Jersey; that subject 
 belongs to the house of representatives, 
 which, by the constitution, is made the 
 ultimate arbiter of the qualifications of its 
 members. But what a spectacle we here 
 
STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 261 
 
 present ! We degrade and disgrace our- 
 selves ; we degrade and disgrace our con- 
 stituents and our countrj-. We do not, 
 and cannot organize ; and why ? Because 
 the clerk of this house, the mere clerk, 
 whom we create, whom we employ, and 
 whose existence depends upon our will, 
 usurps the throne, and sets us, the repre- 
 sentatives, the vicegerents of the whole 
 American people, at defiance, and holds us 
 in contempt ! And what is this clerk of 
 yours ? Is he to control the destinies of 
 sixteen millions of freemen ? Is he to 
 suspend, by his mere negative, thf func- 
 tions oi government, and put an end to 
 this congress ? He refuses to call the 
 roll ! It is in your power to compel him 
 to call it, if he will not do it voluntarily." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a member, 
 who said that he was authorized to say 
 that compulsion could not reach the clerk, 
 who had avowed that he would resign, 
 rather than call the state of New Jersey. 
 
 " Well, sir," continued Mr. Adams, 
 "then let him resign, and we may possibly 
 discover some way. by which we can get 
 along, without the aid of his all-powerful 
 talent, learning, and genius. If we cannot 
 organize in any other way if this clerk 
 of yours will not consent to our discharg- 
 ing the trusts confided to us by our con- 
 stituents, then let us imitate the example 
 of the Virginia House of Burgesses, which, 
 when the colonial governor, Dinwiddie, 
 ordered it to disperse, refused to obey the 
 imperious and insulting mandate, and, like 
 men " 
 
 The multitude could not contain or 
 repress their enthusiasm any longer, but 
 saluted the eloquent and indignant speaker, 
 and intercepted him with loud and deaf- 
 ening cheers, which seemed to shake the 
 capital to its center. The very Genii of 
 applause and enthusiasm seemed to float 
 in the atmosphere of the hall, and every 
 heart expanded with indescribable pride 
 and exultation. The turmoil, the dark- 
 ness, the very chaos of anarchy, which had 
 for successive days, pervaded the American 
 congress, was dispelled by the magic, the 
 talismanic eloquence of a single man ; and, 
 
 once more, the wheels of government and 
 of legislation were put in motion. 
 
 Having, by this powerful appeal, brought 
 the yet unorganized assembly to a percep- 
 tion of its real position, he submitted a 
 motion requiring the acting clerk to pro- 
 ceed in calling the roll. This and similar 
 motions had already been made by other 
 members. The difficulty, indeed, was just 
 this, that the clerk declined to entertain 
 them. Accordingly, Mr. Adams was 
 immediately interrupted by a burst of 
 voices demanding, " How shall the ques- 
 tion be put ? " " Who will put the ques- 
 tion ? " The voice of Mr. Adams was 
 heard above all the tumult, " / intend to 
 put the question myself!" That word 
 brought order out of chaos. There was 
 the master mind. 
 
 As soon as the multitude had recovered 
 itself, and the excitement of long and loud 
 resounding plaudits had abated, Mr. 
 Richard Barnwell Rhett, of South Caro- 
 lina, leaped upon one of the desks, waved 
 his hand, and exclaimed : 
 
 "I move that the Honorable John 
 Quincy Adams take the chair of the 
 speaker of this house, and officiate as pre- 
 siding officer, till the house be organized 
 by the election of its constitutional officers ! 
 As many as are agreed to this will say ay ; 
 those " 
 
 He had not an opportunity to complete 
 the sentence, " those who are not agreed 
 will say no" for one universal, deafen- 
 ing, tremendous ay, responded to the 
 nomination. 
 
 Hereupon, it was moved and ordered 
 that Hons. Lewis Williams, of North 
 Carolina, and Richard Barnwell Rhett, 
 conduct John Quincy Adams to the chair. 
 And well did Mr. Wise, of Virginia, say 
 to him : 
 
 " Sir, I regard it as the proudest hour 
 of your life ; and if, when you shall be 
 gathered to your fathers, I were asked to 
 select the words which, in my judgment, 
 are best calculated to give at once the 
 character of the man, I would inscribe 
 upon your tomb this sentence : / intend 
 to put the question myself.'' 
 
STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION. 
 
 The brave old man lived not only to 
 see the odious " gag rule" rescinded, but to 
 listen to that magnificent speech from one 
 of his colleagues, Dr. Palfrey, on the 
 " inalienable rights of man," at the con- 
 clusion of which, Mr. Adams characteris- 
 tically exclaimed, "God be praised; the 
 seals are broken ; the door is open ! " 
 
 Dying in his country's capitol, in the 
 midst of his public duties, in February, ' 
 1848, his illustrious career shone brightly 
 to the end. As secretary of state under 
 Mr. Monroe, and subsequently as presi- 
 
 dent, his cabinet and other political asso- 
 ciates consisted of such eminent statesmen 
 as Crawford, Shelby, Crowninshield, 
 Thompson, Southard, Meigs, McLean, 
 Rush, Wirt, Barbour, Porter, Van Renssel- 
 aer ; nor was his political ability hardly less 
 appreciated by those master leaders in the 
 ranks of his opponents. A whole nation 
 deplored the loss and united in rendering 
 homage to the memory of the fearless 
 " champion of the right of petition." His 
 successor in congress was Hon. Horace 
 Mann, a kindred spirit, 
 
XXXII. 
 
 PASSAGE OF BENTON'S FAMOUS "EXPUNGING RESO- 
 LUTION," IN THE U. S. SENATE, AFTER A THREE 
 YEARS PARLIAMENTARY STRUGGLE. 1837. 
 
 Vindication of President Jackson Against the Condemnatory Sentence Passed by that Body in 1834, 
 for his Removal of the Government Deposites. Strong Black Lines are Drawn Around Said Sen- 
 tence, by the Secretary, in the Presence of the Senate and of a Vast and Tumultuous Crowd, at Mid- 
 night. Opposition to the United States Bank. Jackson's Message Against It. Public Opinion 
 Divided. Congress Grants a Charter. Presidential Veto of this Bill. Jackson Denounces the 
 Bank. Declares it to be Corrupt. Orders the United States Funds Removed. Secretary Duane 
 Declines to Act. Taney Succeeds Him and Obeys. Fierce Conflict in Congress. Weeks of Stormy 
 Debate. Proposed Censure of Jackson. Resolution to this Effect Passed. Uenton'g Motion to 
 Expunge. He Follows it up Unceasingly. His Consummate Tact. Approach of the Decisive 
 Hour. Excited Crowds Pour In. Triumph of the Master Spirit. Execution of the Resolve. 
 Strange and Impressive Scene. 
 
 " No power on earth o help me God I shall control the key to (he Nation's funds, but the United State Gorernment itoelt" FEZ II- 
 
 DBICT JJLCE3ON. 
 
 remark concerning the celebrated parlia- 
 mentary feat accomplished in the passage 
 of the "Expunging Resolution," by the 
 United States Senate, could more appro- 
 priately describe the chief actor in that 
 proceeding, than the pregnant sentence 
 written by Senator Benton's biographer, 
 namely, that as an exhibition of many 
 especial traits of that senator's character 
 persistency, keen and sagacious insight, 
 stubborn devotion to the fame of his party 
 chief, unquailing courage, and confidence of 
 success against any and all odds, no act of his life was more striking. As is very 
 well known, the mover in this exciting measure, Senator Benton, naturally made him- 
 self peculiarly obnoxious to his political opponents, but he finally achieved success, 
 and gained a great personal triumph. The motion was, to strike from the journals of 
 the senate a resolution of censure passed upon General Jackson, March twenty-eighth, 
 1834, during the second term of his presidency, and the passion of partisans clothed 
 the contest with a violence which shook the whole country. 
 
 The history of this remarkable and deeply interesting affair runs as follows : In hia 
 message to congress, President Jackson expressed an opinion against renewing the 
 
 ATE PLACE FOR THE KEY TO THE PUBLIC FOTDS. 
 
204 PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXPUNGING RESOLUTION, 
 
 charter of the United States bank, which 
 would expire in 1836. The bank had riot 
 yet formally applied for such renewal, but, 
 being thus pressed upon the attention of 
 congress, it was referred to the committee 
 on finance in both houses for examina- 
 tion ; and on the thirtieth of April, 1830, 
 Mr. McDuffie, of the house, made a report 
 on the subject, taking ground directly at 
 variance with the views of the president, 
 arguing that Washington sanctioned and 
 signed its original charter, that it had 
 fulfilled the ends for which it was estab- 
 lished, and that expediency and a regard 
 for the public interest would dictate its 
 continuance. The report in the senate 
 concurred with these sentiments. Such 
 was the effect produced by these reports, 
 that the shares of the bank, which, under 
 the effect of the message, had greatly 
 fallen in value, soon reached the very 
 highest figure. 
 
 As early as 1832, a memorial was pre- 
 sented to congress by the president and 
 directors of the bank for a renewal of its 
 charter. Soon after, a committee was ap- 
 pointed to investigate the proceedings of 
 the bank. A majority of this committee 
 reported against the bank, principally 
 on the ground of a violation of its char- 
 ter by illegal transactions ; a minority 
 report, however, declared that the affairs 
 of the bank had been administered by Mr. 
 Biddle and the directors, with very great 
 ability, and with perfect fidelity to every 
 obligation ; and that, being an institution 
 indispensable to the preservation of a 
 sound currency, and to the financial opera- 
 tions of the government, its downfall 
 would be a great national calamity. 
 
 On the tenth of June, the senate passed 
 a bill, by eight majority, favoring the 
 bank, and, shortly after, the house con- 
 curred by a majority of twenty-two. This 
 bill was vetoed by the president, who de- 
 clared it unauthorized by the constitution, 
 subversive of the rights of the states, and 
 dangerous to the liberties of the people. 
 This veto, though not unexpected to the 
 country, was bitterly denounced from one 
 end of the Union to the othjer, as an act 
 
 pregnant with fearful and appalling woes. 
 Such, too, was the political complexion of 
 congress, at this period, that it was impos- 
 sible to obtain anything like the two-thirds 
 vote requisite to pass a bill over the presi- 
 dential veto. 
 
 The conflict of opinion in regard to the 
 bank, an institution whose existence and 
 operations naturally affected, for good or 
 'ill, every branch of industry, commerce, 
 agriculture, and manufactures, throughout 
 the country, continued, and with in- 
 creased intensity. All kinds of business 
 had, by means of the vast loans so freely 
 obtained from the bank, in larger or 
 smaller sums, by speculators, become 
 greatly inflated, and especially was this 
 the case with stocks. Jackson, viewing 
 the bank as, in this respect, an unhealthy 
 corporation, and capable, in its dispensa- 
 tion of favors, of being a dangerous polit- 
 ical engine, determined to cripple and 
 crush it, and, as an effectual measure to 
 this end, he planned the withdrawal from 
 the bank, of those funds belonging to the 
 government, of which the bank, according 
 to its charter, was the legal depository. 
 During the recess of congress, namely, on 
 the eighteenth of September, 1833, the 
 president read to the cabinet a document 
 advocating and advising a speedy removal 
 of the public treasure deposited with the 
 United States bank, this treasure consti- 
 tuting, as was well understood, the basis 
 of the bank's credit and operations. 
 
 In the document read by the president, 
 on this occasion, he begged the cabinet 
 to consider the measure as his own, and 
 in support of which he should require no 
 one of them to make a sacrifice of opinion 
 or principle. Its responsibility, he assured 
 them, had been assumed by him, after the 
 most mature deliberation and reflection, as 
 necessary to preserve the morals of the 
 people, the freedom of the press, and the 
 purity of the elective franchise. Mr. 
 Duane, at this .time secretary of the 
 treasury, disapproved of the proposed re- 
 moval of the deposites, whereupon he was 
 dismissed from that position, and his place 
 supplied by Itoger U. Taney, who at once 
 
PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXPUNGING RESOLUTION. 2tJ5 
 
 executed the presidential order. The 
 president emphatically declared: "No 
 power on earth so help me God! shall 
 control the key to the nation's funds, 
 but the United States government itself ! " 
 
 Mr. Clay's indignant, burning eloquence, 
 denunciatory of the acts of the executive, 
 knew no bounds, and he concluded by 
 offering resolutions of censure against the 
 president, which, after a most stormy de-' 
 bate,passed the senate, in a slightly altered 
 form, on the twenty-eighth of March, 1834, 
 namely : " That the president, in the late 
 executive proceedings in relation to the 
 revenue, has assumed upon himself au- 
 thority and power not conferred by the 
 constitution and laws, but in derogation of 
 both " Against this resolution, President 
 Jackson sent in a long and severe protest. 
 To this the senate responded, by resolu- 
 tions declaring that the protest was a 
 breach of the privileges of the senate, and 
 that it should not be entered upon the 
 journal. The house of representatives, 
 however, sustained the president, in his 
 opposition to the bank, and the removal 
 of the deposites. Memorials and peti- 
 tions, for or against the measures of the 
 president, flowed in from all quarters. It 
 was considered as momentous an issue as 
 had ever agitated the land. 
 
 The president's wrath was unmeasured, 
 that the resolutions of censure, in sub- 
 stance declaring him guilty of an impeach- 
 able offense, should thus be spread upon 
 the legislative journal. Mr. Benton, the 
 most powerful friend of the president, 
 lost no time in giving notice of his inten- 
 tion to move a strong measure in behalf 
 of the president, namely, an Expunging 
 Resolution against the sentence of cen- 
 sure passed and recorded by the senate, 
 committing himself irrevocably to the 
 prosecution of the resolution, until he 
 should succeed in the effort, or terminate 
 his political life. 
 
 In support of the president's course, and 
 of Mr. Benton's proposed method of vin- 
 dication, various public proceedings were 
 had in different sections of the country, 
 and some of the state legislatures not 
 
 only voted in favor of the removal of the 
 record of censure, but instructed their con- 
 gressional delegations to use their influence 
 and votes in a similar direction. 
 
 Mr. Benton's resolutions rehearsed the 
 principal points involved in the past his- 
 tory and present aspects of the contro- 
 versy, quite at length, the closing resolu- 
 tion being as follows : " That the said 
 resolve be expunged from the journal; 
 and, for that purpose, that the secretary 
 of the senate, at such time as the senate 
 may appoint, shall bring the manuscript 
 journal of the session 1833-34 into the 
 senate, and, in the presence of the senate, 
 draw black lines round the said resolve, 
 and write across the face thereof, in strong 
 letters, the following words : ' Expunged 
 
 day of 
 
 by order of the senate, this 
 
 , in the year of our Lord .' " 
 
 For three years, successively, did Mr. 
 Benton bring forward, on different oc- 
 casions, his celebrated motion, and again 
 and again he suffered defeat, after the 
 most violent and scathing debates that 
 ever took place in any parliamentary body, 
 the senate at this time containing an 
 unusual amount of oratorical talent and 
 forensic power. 
 
 But the last scene and with it victory 
 to the great Missourian and his presiden- 
 tial master, was now near at hand ; and 
 
266 PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXP17NG1NG RESOLUTION. 
 
 this scene, as described, mainly, by Mr. 
 Bentort himself, was as follows : Saturday, 
 the fourteenth of January, the democratic 
 senators agreed to have a meeting, and to 
 take their final measures for passing the 
 expunging resolution. They knew they 
 had the numbers ; but they also knew 
 they had adversaries to grapple with to 
 whom might be applied the proud motto 
 of Louis the Fourteenth : " Not an un- 
 equal match for numbers." They also 
 knew that members of the party were in 
 the process of separating from it, and 
 would require conciliating. They met in 
 the night at the then famous restaurant of 
 Boulauger, giving to the assemblage the 
 air of a convivial entertainment. It con- 
 tinued till midnight, and required all the 
 moderation, tact and skill of the prime 
 movers to obtain and maintain the union 
 upon details, on the success of which the 
 fate of the measure depended. The men 
 of conciliation were to be the efficient men 
 of that night ; and all the winning re- 
 sources of Wright, Allen of Ohio, and 
 Linn of Missouri, were put into requisi- 
 tion. There were serious differences upon 
 the mode of expurgation, while agreed 
 upon the thing; and finally obliteration, 
 the favorite of the mover, was given up, 
 and the mode of expurgation adopted 
 which had been proposed in the resolu- 
 tions of the general assembly of Virginia, 
 namely, to inclose the obnoxious sentence 
 in a square of black lines an oblong 
 square : a compromise of opinions to which 
 the mover agreed upon condition of being 
 allowed to compose the epitaph " Ex- 
 punged by the order of the Senate." The 
 agreement which was to lead to victory 
 was then adopted, each one severally 
 pledging himself to it, that there should 
 should be no adjournment of the senate 
 after the resolution was called until it 
 was passed ; and that it should be called 
 immediately after the morning business 
 on the Monday ensuing. Expecting a 
 protracted session, extending through the 
 day and night, and knowing the difficulty 
 of keeping men steady to their work and 
 in good humor, when tired and hungry, 
 
 the mover of the proceeding took care to 
 provide, as far as possible, against such a 
 state of things ; and gave orders that 
 night to have an ample supply of cold 
 hams, turkeys, rounds of beef, pickles, 
 wines, and cups of hot coffee, ready in a 
 certain committee room near the senate 
 chamber by four o'clock on the afternoon 
 of Monday. 
 
 The motion to take up the subject was 
 made at the appointed time, and imme- 
 diately a debate of long speeches, chiefly 
 on the other side, opened itself upon the 
 question. 
 
 As the darkness of approaching night 
 came on, and the great chandelier was lit 
 up, splendidly illuminating the chamber, 
 then crowded with the members of the 
 house, and the lobbies and galleries filled 
 to their utmost capacity with visitors and 
 spectators, the scene became grand and 
 impressive. A few spoke on the side of 
 the resolution chiefly Rives, Buchanan, 
 N iles and, with an air of ease and satisfac- 
 tion that bespoke a quiet determination, 
 and a consciousness of victory. The com- 
 mittee room was resorted to in parties of 
 four and six at a time, always leaving 
 enough on watch ; and not resorted to by 
 one side alone. The opposition were in- 
 vited to a full participation an invitation 
 of which those who were able to maintain 
 their good temper readily availed them- 
 selves ; but the greater part were not in a 
 humor to eat anything especially at such 
 a feast. 
 
 The night was wearing away ; the ex- 
 pungers were in full force masters of the 
 chamber happy and visibly determined 
 to remain. It became evident to the 
 great opposition leaders, that the inevit- 
 able hour had come ; that the ' damnable 
 deed ' was to be done that night ; and that 
 the dignity of silence was no longer to 
 them a tenable position. The battle was 
 going against them, and they must go into 
 it, without being able to re-establish it. 
 In the beginning, they had not considered 
 the expunging movement a serious pro- 
 ceeding; as it advanced, they still ex- 
 pected it to miscarry on some point ; now, 
 
PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXPUNGING KESOLUTION. 267 
 
 the reality of the thing stood before them, 
 confronting their presence, and refusing 
 to " down " at any command. 
 
 Mr. Calhoun opposed the measure, in a 
 speech of great severity. The day (said 
 he) is gone ; night approaches, and night 
 is suitable to the dark deed we meditate ; 
 there is a sort of destiny in this thing ; 
 the act must be performed, and it is an 
 act which will tell upon the political his- 
 tory of this country forever. 
 
 Mr. Clay indulged in unmeasured de- 
 nunciation of the whole thing. 
 
 The last speech in opposition to the 
 measure was made by Mr. Webster, who 
 employed the strongest language he could 
 
 was there. Expectation, and determina- 
 tion to see the conclusion, were depicted 
 upon every countenance. It was evident 
 there was to be no adjournment until the 
 vote should be taken until the deed was 
 done ; and this aspect of invincible deter- 
 mination had its effect upon the ranks of 
 the opposition. They began to falter 
 under a useless persistence, for they alone 
 now did the speaking; and while Mr. 
 Webster was yet reciting his protest, two 
 senators from the opposition side, who had 
 been best able to maintain their equanim- 
 ity, came round to the mover of the 
 resolution, and said : ' This question has 
 degenerated into a trial of nerves and 
 
 -7&t -W&C- -X*-^Ttf. 
 
 FAOSIMILE COPY OF THE EXPUNGING RESOLUTION. 
 
 command, condemnatory of an act, which, 
 he declared, was so unconstitutional, so 
 derogatory to the character of the senate, 
 and marked with so broad an impression of 
 compliance with power. 
 
 But, though tints pronounced an irregu- 
 lar and unconstitutional proceeding, by 
 Mr. Webster and the other senators with 
 whom he sided and voted, Mr. John 
 Quincy Adams, who was at the time a 
 member of the house, and in direct antag- 
 onism, politically, to Mr. Benton and to the 
 Jackson administration, held a different 
 opinion. 
 
 Midnight (says Mr. Benton, in con- 
 tinuing his account,) was now approach- 
 ing. The dense masses which filled every 
 inch of room in the lobbies and the gal- 
 leries, remained immovable. No one 
 went out ; no one could get in. The floor 
 of the senate was crammed with privileged 
 persons, and it seemed that all congress 
 
 muscles. It has become a question of 
 physical endurance ; and we see no use in 
 wearing ourselves out to keep off for a few 
 hours longer what has to come before we 
 separate. We see that you are able and 
 determined to carry your measure so, 
 call the vote as soon as you please. We 
 shall say no more. Mr. Webster con- 
 cluded. No one rose. There was a pause, 
 a dead silence, and an intense feeling. 
 Presently the silence was invaded by the 
 single word, " question " the parliament- 
 ary call for a vote rising from the seats 
 of different senators. One blank in the re- 
 solve remained to be filled the date of its 
 adoption. It was done. The acting presi- 
 dent of the senate, Mr. King, of Alabama, 
 then directed the roll to be called. The 
 yeas and nays had been previously ordered, 
 and proceeded to be called by the secretary 
 of the senate, the result showing a majority 
 of five on the side of the expungers. 
 
268 PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXPUNGING RESOLUTION. 
 
 The passage of the resolution was an- 
 nounced from the chair. Mr. Benton rose, 
 and said that nothing now remained but 
 to execute the order of the senate, which he 
 moved be done forthwith. It was ordered 
 accordingly. The secretary thereupon pro- 
 duced the original manuscript journal of 
 the senate, and opening at the page which 
 contained the condemnatory sentence of 
 March twenty-eighth, 1834, proceeded in 
 open senate to draw a square of broad 
 black lines around the sentence, and to 
 write across its face in strong letters 
 these words : 
 
 "EXPUNGED BY ORDEK OF THE SEN- 
 ATE, THIS 16TH DAY OF MARCH, 1837." 
 
 Up to this moment, the crowd in the 
 great circular gallery, looking down upon 
 the senate, though sullen and menacing in 
 their looks, had made no manifestation of 
 feeling:. Things were in this state when 
 tlie secrettuj oi the senate began to per- 
 
 form the expunging process. Instantly 
 a storm of hisses, groans, and vociferations 
 arose from the left wing of the gallery, 
 over the head of Mr. Benton. Anticipat- 
 ing the possibility of violence, some of the 
 senator's friends had gone out and brought 
 arms into the hall. No use, however, was 
 made of them, the mob being intimidated 
 by one of the ringleaders being seized by 
 the sergeant-at-arms and brought to the 
 bar of the senate ; and the expunging 
 process was performed in quiet. The 
 gratification of General Jackson was ex- 
 treme. He gave a grand dinner to the 
 expungers and their wives; being, how- 
 ever, too weak to sit at the table, he only 
 met the company, placed the 'head ex- 
 punger ' in the chair, and withdrew to his 
 sick chamber. That expurgation (re- 
 marks Mr. Benton,) was the crowning 
 glory of Jackson's civil, as New Orleans 
 had been of his military, life. 
 
XXXIII. 
 
 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS ENCOMPASSING 
 
 THE WHOLE FIRMAMENT TO ITS FARTHEST 
 
 BOUNDS. 1837. 
 
 A Vast Canopy of Gorgeous Crimson Flames Encircles the Earth. Arches of Resplendent Auroral 
 Glories Span the Hemisphere Innumerable Scarlet Columns of Dazzling Beauty Rise from the 
 Horizon to the Zenith. The Face of Nature Everywhere Appears, to an Astonished World, as if 
 Dyed in Blood. Uncommon Extent and Sublimity. Remarkable Duration and Aspeote. Intensely 
 Luminous Character. Universal Outburst of Luster. Preceded by a Fall of Snow. First Signs of 
 the Phenomenon. Exquisite Rosy Illumination The Snow Appears Deep Red. A Fiery Vermil- 
 ion Tinge to Nature. Alarm Produced by the Scene. Great Moving Pillar of Light. Vivid Stream- 
 ers in All Directions. Pure White and Brilliant Colors. Contrast of the Glowing Tints. Wide 
 Fields of Rainbow Hues. Radiant Beauty Heaven- Wide. Superlative Pageant of Splendor. Perfec- 
 tion of the Stellar Form. Millions of Wondering Observers. Visible Nearly the Whole Night. 
 
 Account! from Different Points. Europe's Share in the Display. 
 
 " Depth, bright, breadth. 
 
 Are MM in their extreme*; and where to fount 
 The thlck-iown glories in thete Heidi of flr. 
 Perhaps a unph'i computation fid!i." 
 
 EARS of observation, covering many cen- 
 turies, and embracing all zones and lati- 
 tudes, give no record of any display of 
 auroral glories equal, in sublimity, mag- 
 nificence, and extent, to the aurora borealis of 
 November fourteenth, 1837. Of the various 
 accounts of this phenomenon, as furnished by 
 observers in different parts of the land, the fol- 
 lowing will suffice to show its marvelous beauty 
 
 SIHOULAR FOBM op AURORAL ARCH. and grandeur, remarkable for its amplitude, its 
 duration, its intense luminosity, and the brilliancy of its colors. Scientific observations 
 of the phenomenon were made by Professors Barnard, Herrick, Twining, Joslin, Silli- 
 man, Gibbs, Henry, Dewey, Eedfield, and others, and these were republished in all 
 parts of Europe, attracting universal attention. 
 
 The city of New Haven had been visited, during the day of the fourteenth, with a 
 moderate storm of snow, which began to subside between the hours of five and six in 
 the evening. The heavens continued, however, to be more or less obscured by clouds 
 during the entire evening ; on which account, the splendors of the aurora, as they man- 
 ifested themselves to observers more favorably situated, were here in a great degree 
 concealed. The veil of snow-clouds, which, at sunset, and for some time afterward, 
 covered the sky, was nevertheless exceedingly thin ; and it was through this, and evaa 
 
270 
 
 AURORA BOREALIS. 
 
 through the falling snow itself, that the 
 first visible indications of the presence of 
 an aurora were discovered. Though the 
 exact time at which the phenomenon com- 
 menced could not be known, it had doubt- 
 less been in progress for a while, before the 
 intensity of the light became sufficient to 
 penetrate the screen. The first evidence 
 of its existence consisted in a strong rosy 
 illumination of the entire arch of the 
 heavens. 
 
 Of this appearance, Professor Olmstead, 
 then of New Haven, says : The snow, 
 which at sunset had covered the earth and 
 all things near it, with a mantle of the 
 purest white, closed, early in the evening, 
 with a most curious and beautiful pageant. 
 About six o'clock, while the sky was yet 
 thick with falling snow, all things sud- 
 denly appeared as if dyed in blood. The 
 entire atmosphere, the surface of the earth, 
 the trees, the tops of the houses, and, in 
 short, the whole face of nature, were 
 tinged with the same scarlet hue. The 
 alarm of fire was given, and the vigilant 
 firemen were seen parading the streets in 
 their ghostly uniform, which, assuming the 
 general tint, seemed in singular keeping 
 with the phenomenon. The light was 
 most intense in the north-west and north- 
 east. At short intervals it alternately 
 increased and diminished in brightness, 
 until, at half-past six, only a slight tinge 
 of red remained on the sky. On account 
 of the light being thus transmitted through 
 the snowy medium and a thin veil of clouds, 
 the aurora borealis was diffused like the 
 light of an astral lamp, covered with a 
 red shade of ground glass. That the 
 stratum of clouds was very thin, was 
 inferred from the fact, that, before half- 
 past six, a few stars were discernible as 
 when seen through a fog ; and such was 
 the appearance of the moon, which rose 
 about the same time. Within ten minutes 
 from the time the heavens began to assume 
 their fiery appearance, the whole clouded 
 hemisphere shone with that marvelously 
 brilliant light, which, reflected in rosy 
 tints by the snow on the ground, produced 
 a scene indescribably gorgeous. To some 
 
 observers, the auroral flush seemed to over- 
 spread all parts of the sky almost simul- 
 taneously. 
 
 East of New Haven, the storm was more 
 protracted. At New London, the snow 
 was falling copiously, and continued so, 
 unabatedly, during the whole evening. 
 But, notwithstanding the storm, the heav- 
 ens seemed as if they were on fire, a 
 lurid light on all sides, from the zenith to 
 the horizon, casting a most vulcanean hue 
 on the fallen snow. The light seemed the 
 same in every portion of the firmament, 
 but without any apparent cause. 
 
 In the city of New York, the display, 
 as witnessed from an eminence which com- 
 manded an unobstructed view of the hori- 
 zon in every direction, was, in the latter 
 part of the evening, magnificent beyond 
 description. At about a quarter before 
 six, the attention of observers was at- 
 tracted by a most unusual appearance of 
 the heavens. The sky was wholly over- 
 cast, as in New Haven, at the same hour; 
 though the cloud was not sufficiently 
 dense, absolutely to obscure all the stars, 
 of which quite a number were seen from 
 time to time, faintly glimmering through. 
 At the time of the first observation, the 
 whole heaven was suffused with a lovely 
 carnation, brightest, apparently, at the 
 commencement in the zenith, but soon 
 afterward rather toward the north-east. 
 This tint, reflected on the snow, clothed 
 all nature with a red-tinted garniture, of 
 supernal beauty. It gradually faded, 
 though at the end of an hour it was still 
 slightly perceptible. The sky then rap- 
 idly cleared, and all traces of the aurora 
 passed away. 
 
 Bu J,t about half-past seven, the north 
 and east being still overcast, and some 
 stratified clouds extending themselves 
 along the horizon around toward the west, 
 a brightness began to appear in the north- 
 west, which, in a very short time, extended 
 itself upward forty-five degrees, in a col- 
 umn of diffused light, quite broad at the 
 base, and tapering to a point. This col- 
 umn moved very slowly southward, and at 
 length became divided into two of similar 
 
AURORA BOREALIS. 
 
 271 
 
 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS OF NOVEMBER 13 AND 14, 1837. 
 
 character. But in the meantime, in all 
 the north, and especially in the north-west, 
 numerous streamers began to make their 
 appearance. They became faintly red at 
 the height of about thirty degrees, and the 
 redness of the whole blended itself into one 
 general cloud, while the columns continued 
 distinct and white below. The changes 
 were rapid, but the red tint covered the 
 heavens nearly to the zenith for a long 
 time. The moon, emerging from the 
 clouds, a little before eight, detracted 
 from the brightness of the display. The 
 whole subsided, or nearly so, shortly after 
 eight, and observations were discontinued. 
 A few minutes before nine, however, 
 the community was summoned to witness 
 a new exhibition of auroral wonders, the 
 lustrous grandeur of which no tongue could 
 tell, nor pen portray. The heavens were 
 at this time wholly unclouded, with the 
 exception of a single very small and faint 
 cirrus high in the north-west. Innumer- 
 able bright arches shot up from the whole 
 rorthern semi-circle of the horizon, and 
 from even farther south, all converging to 
 the zenith with great rapidity. Their 
 upper extremities were of the most bril- 
 
 liant scarlet, while below they were ex- 
 ceedingly white. At the formation of the 
 corona, the appearance of the columns 
 below, which were very numerous and 
 bright, resembled that of bright cotton of 
 long fiber, drawn out at full length. The 
 intermingled hues afforded each other a 
 mutual strong relief, and exhibited the 
 most dazzling contrasts ever beheld. The 
 stellar form was wonderfully perfect and 
 regular. Toward the west, there was a 
 sector of more than twenty degrees of 
 unmingled scarlet, superlatively beautiful. 
 
 The duration of this display was quite 
 remarkable. For three-quarters of an 
 hour after its formation, which took place 
 about nine o'clock, the corona continued, 
 with variable brightness, to maintain its 
 position a little to the south of the zenith. 
 At about half-past nine, the northern col- 
 umns had become disconnected from it, 
 and had subsided very low, the heavens 
 being clear between. But long before this, 
 and, indeed, within a few minutes after 
 nine, the south was as completely filled 
 with corresponding columns as the north. 
 
 For a time, therefore, the earth was 
 completely overarched by a perfect canopy 
 
272 
 
 AURORA BOREALIS. 
 
 of glory! The southern columns, which 
 seemed to proceed downward from the 
 corona, rested on an arch of diffused light, 
 extending in a great circle from east to 
 west, or nearly so, and being about twenty 
 degrees, or a little more, above the hori- 
 zon, in the center. All below the arch 
 was of the strange darkness so usual at 
 such times in the north. The southern 
 columns were at no time so bright as the 
 northern, but they maintained their posi- 
 tion, after these last had retired, extend- 
 ing still from the corona to the arch which 
 formed their base. The appearance was 
 at this time that of an aurora australis, 
 and this continued for more than a quarter 
 of an hour. Streamers, for a while, con- 
 tinued to shoot up irregularly in the north, 
 but they did not again reach the zenith. 
 By half-past ten, all evidence of the phe- 
 nomenon disappeared from the heavens, 
 and the hosts of charmed observers reluc- 
 tantly abandoned their watch. 
 
 In the western part of New York state, 
 the exhibition was most superb, as seen 
 and described at various points of observa- 
 tion. In Buffalo and neighborhood, the 
 aurora was perceived at its first approach. 
 At about quarter-past five o'clock, the 
 heavens being clear in the north and for 
 fifty degrees both east and west of that 
 point, an unusual ruddy appearance was 
 noticed. This soon faded, leaving barely 
 a perceptible tinge ; and instantly, when 
 nearly all color had disappeared elsewhere, 
 a space of some fifteen degrees in diame- 
 ter, immediately west of Cassiopeia and 
 Andromeda, and north of* Pegasus, was 
 lighted up with red, of a particularly deep 
 hue. This was entirely disconnected, on 
 every side, from any auroral light or 
 appearance whatever, and, from its center, 
 pencils of white radiated to the periphery 
 on every side. 
 
 After this appearance had continued 
 some five minutes, the white lines disap- 
 peared, and the whole space in question 
 assumed a uniform red color, which was 
 almost instantly thereafter extended, in 
 an arch of the same width, through the 
 zenith, and down to the horizon about 
 
 sixty degrees west of north. On the east, 
 this light did not extend itself; and, 
 during the whole time, the clear space 
 existing in the north retained its usual 
 color and appearance. Deep red streams, 
 penciled with white, then began to appear 
 and fade in the north, but without the 
 tremulous motion of 'merry dancers.' 
 Those in the north-east maintained their 
 .brightness longest. 
 
 At about fifteen minutes before six 
 o'clock, the clouds had become more dense 
 and dark, though still in detached masses, 
 particularly throughout that portion of the 
 heavens which had been occupied by the 
 red arch above mentioned, and these 
 isolated clouds now assumed an appearance 
 at once novel and striking. Those west 
 of the zenith, and lying within the track 
 of the crimson arch already described, 
 suddenly exhibited the most vivid red 
 along their entire southern borders ; while 
 the like clouds east of the zenith, and fol- 
 lowing the same track, and prolonging it 
 quite down to the eastern horizon, assumed 
 the same vivid color upon their northern 
 borders ; no other portion, however, of 
 these clouds, exhibited any of the charac- 
 teristics of auroral light. South of this 
 line, there was at no time any auroral 
 light whatever; and at the moment in 
 question, there was very little in any other 
 parts of the heavens, save on the borders 
 of these clouds. At nine minutes before 
 six, the red edgings of these clouds began 
 to fade, and immediately a wide space in 
 the north-east, that was still free from 
 clouds, was most brilliantly lighted up. 
 The color was of the same deep red, but it 
 did not extend down to the horizon ; and 
 this had scarcely continued four minutes, 
 when the whole region north of the zenith, 
 to within about eight degrees of the hori- 
 zon, was again reddened and glowing 
 while, beyond these limits, either north or 
 south, no vestige of the aurora was visible. 
 Just two minutes before six, the moon 
 appeared above the horizon, and as it was 
 only two days past the full, its beams soon 
 surpassed in brightness those of the 
 aurora. 
 
AURORA BOREALIS. 
 
 273 
 
 In Hudson, Ohio, at the Western 
 Reserve College, some of the earlier dis- 
 plays of the phenomenon were noticed by 
 Professor Loomis. This was some five 
 minutes after six, when he observed that 
 a small pile of light, of a reddish hue. lay 
 upon the horizon, in a direction a little 
 north of north-west, and a similar pile in 
 the east of north-east. Between these 
 there was a low faint cloud, bounded by a 
 somewhat ill-defined arch, rising in its 
 center about ten degrees from the horizon. 
 Above this arch, a diffused light streamed 
 upward toward the zenith, in one or two 
 places, being somewhat more condensed, 
 forming beams. This light increased 
 rapidly in brightness ; it became of a more 
 decided crimson color, extended up to the 
 zenith, and, at the same time, light began 
 to shoot up from several points in the east, 
 and somewhat south of east. At a quarter- 
 past six, meantime, a pretty regular arch 
 was formed, extending from the above- 
 mentioned pile of light in the north-west. 
 This arch was rather irregular in its out- 
 line, and had a slightly crimson color. In 
 about five minutes, another arch of white 
 light partially formed in the southern sky, 
 and had nearly the same direction with 
 the preceding ; but this arch was never 
 complete, and soon vanished entirely. The 
 great arch, however, before described, 
 brightened up again in very nearly the 
 same position as previously. About half- 
 past eight, light of a crimson color was 
 observed to shoot from the eastern horizon 
 toward and beyond the zenith, nearly in 
 the position of the former arch. The 
 heavens were now nearly covered with thin 
 cirro-cumulus clouds, and the contrast of 
 the ordinary clouds with this crimson 
 auroral light, produced a very singular 
 effect. The sky remained cloudy during 
 the night. 
 
 Strange though it may appear, this 
 beautiful and magnificent phenomenon 
 was visible during nearly the whole night 
 in the neighborhood of St. Louis, Mo., 
 and was particularly brilliant between the 
 hours of twelve and one, when the moon 
 
 was near its zenith. Time in St. Louis 
 18 
 
 being rather more than one hour earlier 
 than in New York, this midnight display 
 was contemporaneous with the latest 
 return of the aurora in the longitude of 
 New York ; but this, which was the least 
 energetic in the latter, appears there to 
 have been the most remarkable. 
 
 The commencement of the phenomenon 
 in Philadelphia was similar to that ob- 
 served at New York. At a later period, 
 the lights were again visible, and, between 
 nine and ten o'clock, exceeded in extent 
 and brilliancy, anything of the kind ever 
 before witnessed in that region. A broad 
 field of crimson flame, stretching from 
 nearly a western course, and reaching the 
 eastern hemisphere, encompassed th: 
 heavens with a brilliant glory, of indescrib- 
 able beauty and magnificence, hanging, 
 as it were, suspended from the blue rault 
 above, like an immense curtain over the 
 earth while, from almost every point of 
 the compass, shot up rays of rich and gor- 
 geous light, spreading and intermingling 
 with a wavy tremulous motion, and exhib- 
 iting every hue of the clearest rainbow. 
 The richness, variety, and delicacy of the 
 colors, were surprisingly beautiful, as was 
 their prismatic brilliancy. The sky itself 
 was remarkably clear and cloudless and 
 through the celestial phenomena, a full 
 moon and innumerable stars were, all the 
 while, distinctly visible. 
 
 In Maryland, according to the observa- 
 tions made at Emmettsburg, the first indi- 
 cation of the aurora's approach was given 
 as soon as it became dark, by the singular 
 redness of the cumulo-stratus clouds, now 
 entirely covering the sky. Those in the 
 north, south, east and west, all partook of 
 the redness, the reflection from them being 
 strong enough to give a red tinge to the 
 snow. The heaviest clouds retained their 
 dark color in the center, but they were 
 bordered with red. During the hour in 
 which this state of things existed, there 
 were no streamers, streaks of light, nor 
 merry dancers. Indeed, where the sky 
 could be seen between the clouds, there 
 were no signs of an aurora, but rather a 
 deep green sky. By seven, the moon 
 
274 
 
 AUKOKA BOKEALIS. 
 
 VIEW OF THE AURORA BORE A US IN ITS EARLY STAGES. 
 
 being risen, and the clouds having van- 
 ished, nothing remained to show that there 
 had been any unusual occurrence. A little 
 after nine, however, the sky being per- 
 fectly clear, an aurora suddenly sprang up, 
 which, for magnificence, surpassed any- 
 thing of the kind ever before witnessed in 
 that section. The streamers from the 
 east, west, and north, converged a few 
 degrees south of the zenith, forming a 
 beautiful auroral crown, red as scarlet, but 
 intermingled with streaks of pale light. 
 There were no merry dancers, but all the 
 other appearances usually witnessed on 
 .such occasions were noticed. In little 
 more than half an hour, the grand display- 
 was over, for the most part. 
 
 Observers at Annapolis, Md., describe 
 the aurora there as coming on in waves, 
 ">t about a quarter before six, and return- 
 ing at seven, at eight, and at nine. The 
 first arch was formed suddenly, and became 
 vertical in a very few minutes, from the 
 first appearance of the columns at the 
 north-west and south-east. It was crim- 
 son, traversed by white pencils. The 
 color of the light at eight o'clock was not 
 red, but dusky, and formed from the north- 
 
 west point to the pole star, a broad column, 
 which kept its position for half an hour. 
 A succession of fire cirrus clouds floated 
 off from the lower parts of the column to 
 the south. At nine o'clock, the recurrence 
 of the crimson light was more in patches, 
 and of intense brightness, accompanied by 
 cirro-cumulus clouds, which were formed 
 suddenly over the whole sky, and were 
 borne swiftly to the east by the wind. 
 
 Near Alexandria, Va., the early dis- 
 play, as seen from east south-east to 
 west south-west, exhibited a rich orange 
 red color, extending even to the zenith, 
 and covering all the heavens north of these 
 points. The return occurred toward nine 
 o'clock, in a brilliant and fiery form. 
 
 The appearance of the aurora in South 
 Carolina commenced about six o'clock, in 
 the shape of a bank o- store-house of auro- 
 ral vapor towards the north. When first 
 observed, a space of about fifteen degrees 
 above the horizon was strongly marked by 
 a pale white light, above which the crim- 
 son hue peculiar to this phenomenon began 
 to be distinctly visible. At this time, the 
 greatest degree of brightness was to the 
 east of north, assuming no very definite 
 
ATJROKA BOEEALIS. 
 
 275 
 
 form, but extending about eight or ten 
 degrees east, and reaching in height to the 
 constellation of Cassiopeia's chair, the 
 lower portion of which was enveloped in 
 its reddening glow. The action then sub- 
 sided ; but at about eight o'clock, another 
 bright crimson column ascended due north, 
 attaining an altitude some degrees greater 
 than that of the polar star, and maintaining 
 its place about half an hour. After this 
 had faded away, no return was observed 
 until half-past nine, when there was per- 
 ceived another broad arch of crimson light, 
 ascending several degrees to the west of 
 north. 
 
 In certain sections of Georgia, the phe- 
 nomenon commenced a little after dark. 
 The sky a little to the north of the star 
 Capella, began to appear luminous, and a 
 luminous arch was soon formed, of about 
 six or eight degrees in breadth, and 
 extending over to the north-western hori- 
 zon, having the pole star in its highest 
 point. Soon after the arch was formed, 
 that part of it in the north-east horizon 
 became much brighter, and somewhat 
 broader than the rest ; and this luminous 
 portion gradually rose, and passed on in 
 the arch, its densest part culminating a 
 little below the north star. It continued 
 its motion to the western horizon. 
 
 An hour and a half was occupied by the 
 passage of the luminous part of the arch 
 just described. It became somewhat 
 fainter, after it had passed the meridian, 
 and it gradually was lost to sight, begin- 
 ning first to disappear in the east, so that 
 not a vestige remained at nine o'clock, 
 
 three hours from its first appearance. The 
 color of the arch was that of light scarlet, 
 the most luminous part being a little 
 darker, and much more intense. Its form 
 was that of a semi-circle, having for its 
 base about sixty degrees of the horizon. 
 It differed from the aurora in its regular 
 outline, as well as its regular motion from 
 east to west, and was witnessed with admir- 
 ation and astonishment. 
 
 So extensive was this magnificent celes- 
 tial phenomenon, that it exhibited its won- 
 derful splendors, contemporaneously, to 
 the inhabitants of Europe and America, 
 though the presence of clouds greatly 
 interfered with the attractiveness and 
 grandeur of the exhibition in the former. 
 At half-past twelve, however, says one of 
 the observers in England, a patch of the 
 most intense blood-red colors ever seen, 
 was visible, free from the interposition of 
 clouds. The whole of the sky had an 
 awful appearance ; for the tinge of red 
 which pervaded the whole expanse, 
 assumed, in many points, from the depth 
 of colors above, and the density of the 
 clouds below, the dark copper tint, which 
 is seen on the disk of the moon during a 
 lunar eclipse. It was such a sight as fills 
 the mind with wonder and awe ; and, in 
 America at least, was the most marvelous 
 of the kind ever known ; though that of 
 August and September, 185Q, proved but 
 little inferior in some respects. In north- 
 ern Europe, this phenomenon is quite 
 frequent, and Mr. Bayard Taylor describes 
 one of rare beauty which he there wit- 
 nessed. 
 
XXXIV. 
 
 BREAKING OUT OF THE TEMPERANCE REFORMA- 
 TION. 1840. 
 
 Origin, Rapid Spread, Influence, and Wonderful History of the Movement Enthusiasm Attending the 
 " Wasliingtonian " Era. Its Pioneers Rise from the Gutter to the Rostrum, and Sway Multitudes by 
 their Eloquence Father Mathew's Visit. His 600,000 Converts. Career of Hawkins, Mitchell, 
 Gough, Dow, and Others. First Temperance Society in the United States. Singular Terms of 
 Membership. Social Customs in Former Times Unrestrained Use of Spirits. Growing Desire foi 
 Reform. Influential Men Enlisted. Meetings, Societies, Agitation. A Congressional Organization. 
 Origin of " Tee-Totalism." Deacon Giles's Distillery. " My Mother's Gold Ring " Rise of 
 " Washingtonianism." Six Reformed Drunkards. Cold Water Armies, Processions, etc. Music, 
 Banners and Badges. The Country All Ablaze An " Apostle of Temperance." Administering the 
 Pledge. Conflict Concerning Measures. Anecdotes of Washington. General Taylor's Whiskey 
 Jug. Farragut's Substitute for Grog. 
 
 "Iihill notcloiethU letter without exhorting you to refrain from epintuoun liquorti they will prove your ruin if you do not. Coniider 
 how little a drunken man differ* from a beaat; the latter la not endowed with reason, the former deprive* himself of it" GKKEKAL WAIH- 
 
 UIOT01C. 
 
 ^ERHAPS it would be difficult to name the precise date when 
 active public efforts were initiated in the United States to 
 check the widespread evil of intemperance. It is not to 
 be doubted, however, that the writings of that eminent 
 man of science, Dr. Benjamin Eush, of Philadelphia, 
 especially his " Inquiry into the Effects of Ardent Spirits 
 upon the Human Body and Mind," issued as early as 1804, 
 did much to awaken an interest in the subject, on the part 
 of the community. But not until 1808, was there any 
 movement of an associated character, for public or indi- 
 vidual abandonment of the use of intoxicating drinks. 
 
 But it sounds somewhat strangely, in these later days of 
 radical reform, that the initial movement referred to, and 
 which was entitled " The Temperate Society of Moreau and Northumberland," (towns 
 in the county of Saratoga, N. Y.) originated by Billy Clarke, should be based upon 
 regulations like the following : 
 
 " No member shall be intoxicated, under penalty of fifty cents. No member shall 
 drink rum, gin, whiskey, wine, or any distilled spirits, or compositions of the same, or 
 any of them, except by the advice of a physician, or in case of actual disease (also 
 excepting wine at public dinners), under penalty of twenty-five cents ; provided that 
 this article shall not infringe on any religious ordinance. No member shall offer any 
 of said liquors to any other member, or urge any other person to drink thereof, 
 under penalty of twenty-five cents for each offense," 
 
 EFFECT OF REFORMATION. 
 
THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 277 
 
 But the da3 r of small beginnings, in a 
 humane cause, is never to be despised, 
 and, in a few years, the reform had 
 enlisted the earnest co-operation of law- 
 yers, divines, and other eminent men, such 
 as Carey, Palfrey, Humphrey, Dexter, 
 Marsh, Edwards, Beecher, Porter, Leavitt, 
 Hewit, Day, and Kittredge. In 1813, 
 there was formed the Massachusetts Soci- 
 ety for the Suppression of Intemperance ; 
 one in Connecticut, in 1829 ; and, in 1826, 
 the American Temperance Union. The 
 statistics of this period present the calcu- 
 lation, that, out of a white population of 
 ten millions, between three and four mil- 
 lions were habitual spirit-drinkers, of whom 
 three hundred and seventy-five thousand 
 drank daily on an average three gills of 
 ardent spirits, while an equal number con- 
 sumed more than twice that quantity, and 
 of course were drunkards. Making due 
 allowance for the imperfectness of such 
 statistical data, it was admitted by all, 
 that the intemperate use of spirituous liq- 
 uors, in every part of the land, had become 
 alarmingly prevalent. 
 
 The excellent resume of this movement, 
 as given by Dr. Emerson Davis, himself 
 ine of its ablest and most efficient sup- 
 porters, states that at this time the reform 
 seemed to be simultaneous through the 
 country. At the beginning of 1828, the 
 custom, hitherto so general, of treating 
 visitors with wine, cordials, and brandy, 
 began to disappear. The sideboards of 
 the rich and influential, which from time 
 immemorial had groaned under a load of 
 decanters, were relieved of their burdens, 
 and a very great change in the customs of 
 society began to be apparent. At the 
 close of 1828, the number of temperance 
 societies reported in the temperance jour- 
 nals was two hundred and twenty-five. 
 At the close of 1829, there were more 
 than one thousand such societies, embrac- 
 ing more than one hundred thousand 
 members, pledged to total abstinence ; 
 fifty distilleries had stopped, four hun- 
 dred merchants had abandoned the traffic, 
 and twelve hundred drunkards had been 
 reclaimed. On the first of May, 1831, it 
 
 appeared that more than three hundred 
 thousand persons had signed the pledge, 
 and not less than fifty thousand were sup- 
 posed to have been saved from a drunkard's 
 grave. Even at Washington, a congres- 
 sional temperance society was organized, 
 under the auspices of such men as Cass, 
 Grundy, Bates, Wayne, Post, Durbin, and 
 others ; and some of the most brilliant 
 public men signed the pledge. 
 
 A very common objection (adds Dr 
 Davis), made by many of the poor, was, 
 that they could not afford to drink wine, 
 and, therefore, that signing the pledge 
 operated unequally ; it took from them 
 the use of all stimulants but cider and 
 beer, but it left to the rich the use of wine, 
 which was often about as strong as Cognac 
 brandy. In order to obviate this objec- 
 tion, it was found necessary to introduce 
 a new pledge, prohibiting the use, not 
 only of distilled, but of fermented, liquors. 
 The first society that adopted this pledge 
 was the Eighth Ward Branch of the New 
 York City Temperance Society. This 
 was called the tee-total pledge, a name 
 first given to it in England, and which 
 had its origin in the prolonged and inco- 
 herent stuttering, by one who was taking 
 the pledge, at the first letter in the word 
 'total.' This tee-total pledge was intro- 
 duced into this country in 1834, and in 
 a short time many societies were formed 
 on that principle. Many, however, who 
 signed the old pledge, refused to sign the 
 new ; and thus there was an apparent fall- 
 ing off in the number of the members of 
 temperance organizations. Some, too, who 
 had delivered public addresses, and stood 
 foremost in the ranks of reformers, were 
 thrown into the background, and became 
 silent spectators of passing events. 
 
 Among the prominent promoters of the 
 cause, appear the names of Delavan, Nor- 
 ton, Keener, Gerritt Smith, Moses Grant, 
 Loyd, Collins, Briggs, Walworth, Grundy, 
 Hunt, Stewart, and Hoar, as speakers. 
 Mr. L. M. Sargent contributed powerfully 
 to the reform, by his unrivaled temper- 
 ance tales, including that widely circulated 
 and admired production, "My Mother's 
 
278 
 
 THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 Gold Ring." Pierpont inspired thousands 
 by his quaint and thrilling poems ; and 
 the letters, essays, and other writings, of 
 such men as Woodward, Warren, Baird, 
 Beman, Chapin, Kirk, Channing, and 
 Barnes, added greatly to the impression 
 upon the public mind. Among the inci- 
 dents of this period, perhaps none created 
 greater interest and excitement through- 
 out the whole land, than the assault, prose- 
 cution, and imprisonment, of Rev. George 
 B. Cheever, of Salem, Mass., subsequently 
 of New York. About the beginning of 
 1835, he published in a Salem newspaper, 
 a dream, descriptive of " Deacon Giles's 
 Distillery," in which the liquors were 
 graphically characterized as containing 
 demons in an inferno. Deacon Giles was 
 a veritable person, and the publication 
 resulted in a violent assault upon Mr. 
 Cheever, one night, by the foreman of the 
 distillery, who inflicted upon the unarmed 
 clergyman a number of severe blows with 
 a raw hide, to which Mr. Cheever made no 
 resistance. Mr. Cheever was also prose- 
 cuted for libel, and sentenced to thirty 
 days' imprisonment. He was regarded as 
 a martyr to the cause of temperance, and 
 his case helped rather than checked the 
 progress of the reform. He continued to 
 do valiant service, as before, with his pen 
 and voice, ranking, in this respect, with 
 such men as Clarke, Grimke, Fisk, Coffin, 
 Woods, Williams, Merrill, Sewall, Pond, 
 Thurston, Reese, Van Loon, Jewett, Buck- 
 ingham. 
 
 But a most stirring and enthusiastic 
 impetus was yet to be given to the temper- 
 ance movement, and that through the 
 humblest personal instrumentality. This 
 was the organization of the Washington 
 Temperance Society, in Baltimore, in the 
 month of April, 1840 ; its most remarka- 
 ble convert being Mr. John H. W. Haw- 
 kins, who joined the society the following 
 June. 
 
 It appears that six individuals, who 
 were in the habit of associating together, 
 were seated, as usual, on Friday evening, 
 April 2, 1840, in Chase's tavern, in Lib- 
 erty street, Baltimore, where they were 
 
 accustomed to meet almost every evening, 
 for the purpose of enjoying mutually all 
 the benefits and conveniences which that 
 establishment and each other's society 
 could possibly afford. These were Wil- 
 liam K. Mitchell, tailor ; John F. Hoss, 
 carpenter ; David Anderson, blacksmith ; 
 George Steers, blacksmith ; James McCur- 
 ley, coach-maker ; and Archibald Camp- 
 bell, silver-plater. A clergyman who was 
 preaching in the city at that time, had 
 given public notice that on that evening 
 he would deliver a discourse on the sub- 
 ject of temperance. Upon this lecture, 
 the conversation of the six comrades pres- 
 ently turned ; whereupon it was agreed 
 that four of them should go and hear it, 
 and report accordingly. So, after the ser- 
 mon, they returned and conversed on its 
 merits for some time ; when one of the 
 company remarked, 'After all, temperance 
 is a good thing.' 'Oh,' said the host, 
 ' they're all a parcel of hypocrites.' 'Oh, 
 yes,' replied McCurley, ' I'll be bound for 
 you ; it's your interest to cry them down, 
 anyhow.' '/ tell you what, boys, let's 
 form a society, and make Bill Mitchell 
 president.' 'Agreed,' cried they. The 
 idea seemed to take wonderfully, and the 
 more they talked and laughed over the 
 idea, the more were they pleased with it. 
 
 After parting that night, they did not 
 all meet again until Sunday, when they 
 took a stroll, and, between walking and 
 treating, they managed to arrange the 
 whole matter to their entire satisfaction. 
 It was agreed that one of them should 
 draw up a pledge, and that the whole 
 party should sign it the next day. Accord- 
 ingly, on Monday morning, Mitchell wrote 
 the following pledge: 'We whose names 
 are annexed, desirous of forming a society 
 for our mutual benefit, and to guard 
 against a pernicious practice, which is 
 injurious to our health, standing, and fam- 
 ilies, do pledge otfrselves as gentlemen, 
 that we will not drink any spirituous or 
 malt liquors, wine, or cider.' 
 
 He went with this, at about nine o'clock, 
 to Anderson's house, and found him still 
 in bed, sick from the effects of his Sunday 
 
THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 279 
 
 adventures. He arose, however, dressed 
 himself, and, after hearing the pledge read, 
 went down to his shop with his friend for 
 pen and ink, and there did himself the 
 honor of being the first man to sign. 
 After obtaining the names of the remain- 
 ing four, the worthy president finished 
 this noble achievement by adding his own. 
 On the evening of that day, they met at 
 the residence of one of their number and 
 duly formed themselves into a society, with 
 the usual officers. Little did these six 
 associates know of the fame and achieve- 
 ments they were moulding ! 
 
 Having thus got under way, they next 
 turned their attention to obtaining mem- 
 bers and devising means to defray the 
 expenses of their meetings ; it was there- 
 fore agreed that each man should bring a 
 man, and every one should pay twenty-five 
 cents upon becoming a member, and 
 twelve and a half cents, monthly, there- 
 after. 
 
 The next debate was as to the name 
 they should give to their society. A num- 
 ber were proposed, among them that of 
 Jefferson ; when it was finally agreed that 
 the president and secretary should be a 
 committee to draft a constitution, and 
 select a name. This they did, giving to 
 the association the name of the " Wash- 
 ington Temperance Society," in honor $| 
 of the Father of his Country, and were f|| 
 consequently known as Washintjtonians. pv 
 It is a little singular, however, that this 
 name should have been chosen, for, 
 though Washington was 
 one of the brightest 
 examples of temperate 
 eating and drinking, he 
 habitually used liquor 
 or wine himself, and 
 provided it for his 
 guests and laborers. 
 The following curious 
 document is in point : 
 
 " Articles of Agree- 
 ment made this twelfth 
 day of April, Anno 
 Domini, one thousand 
 seven hundred and 
 
 eighty^seven, by and between George 
 Washington, Esq., of the Parish of Truro, 
 in the County of Fairfax, State of Vir- 
 ginia, on the one part, and Philip Bater, 
 Gardener, on the other. Witness, that 
 the said Philip Bater, for and in 
 consideration of the covenants herein 
 hereafter mentioned, doth promise and 
 agree to serve the said George Wash- 
 ington for the term of one year, as a 
 Gardener, and that he will, during said 
 time, conduct himself soberly, diligently 
 and honestly that he will faithfully ard 
 industriously perform all and every part of 
 his duty as a gardener, to the best of his 
 knowledge and abilities, and that he will 
 not, at any time suffer himself to be dis- 
 guised with liquor, except on the times 
 hereafter mentioned. In consideration of 
 these things being well and truly per- 
 formed on the part of the said Phii> 
 Bater, the said George Washington doth 
 agree to allow him (the said Philip) the 
 same kind and quantity of provisions as he 
 has heretofore had ; and likewise, annually, 
 a decent suit of clothes, befitting a man in 
 his station ; to consist of a coat, vest and 
 breeches ; a working-jacket, and breeches 
 of home-spun besides; two white shirts; 
 three checked do ; two linnen pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs, two pair linnen overalls ; as 
 
 SIGSISO THE PLEDGE. 
 
 J 
 
280 
 
 THE TEMPERANCE BEFORMATION. 
 
 many pair of shoes as are actually neces- 
 sary for him ; -four dollars at Christmas, 
 with which, he may be drunk four days 
 and four nights ; two dollars at Easter to 
 effect the same purpose ; two dollars at 
 Whitsuntide, to be drunk two days; a 
 dram in the morning and a Drink of Grog 
 at Dinner at noon." 
 
 The above is signed by the two con- 
 tracting parties, and witnessed by George 
 A. Washington and Tobias Lear. In 
 another instance, Washington's fine in- 
 stincts and principles are admirably dis- 
 played : 
 
 "I shall not close this letter," writes 
 Washington to one of his overseers, 
 " without exhorting you to refrain from 
 spirituous liquors; they will prove your 
 ruin if you do not. Consider how little a 
 dr-inken man differs from a beast; the 
 latter is not endowed with reason, the 
 former deprives himself of it ; and when 
 that is the case, acts like a brute, annoy- 
 ing and disturbing every one around him ; 
 nor is this all, nor, as it respects himself, 
 the worst of it. By degrees it renders a 
 person feeble, and not only unable to 
 serve others, but to help himself; and 
 being an act of his own, he falls from a 
 state of usefulness into contempt, and at 
 length suffers, if not perishes, in penury 
 and want. Don't let this be your case. 
 Shew yourself more of a man and a Chris- 
 ian than to yield to so intolerable a vice, 
 which cannot, I am certain, (to the great- 
 est lover of liquor,) give more pleasure to 
 sip in the poison, (for it is no better,) than 
 the consequence of it in bad behavior at 
 the moment, and the more serious evils 
 produced by it afterwards must give pain." 
 
 Great and wonderful were the results 
 destined to flow from the ' Washington 
 Temperance Society,' thus started by those 
 six inebriates in the city of Baltimore. 
 At their second meeting, they had two 
 new members; but, in a comparatively 
 short time, the society increased so much 
 that it became a question how they could 
 employ their time so as to make their 
 meetings interesting. The president there- 
 upon suggested that each member should 
 
 rise in his place and give his experience; 
 and, by way of commencement, he arose 
 and told what he had passed through in 
 the last fifteen years, and the advantages 
 he had derived from signing the total- 
 abstinence pledge. This was the origin ot 
 that most popular and efficient method 
 which the Washington Society and all its 
 auxiliaries adopted, for giving interest 
 and effect to their gatherings. Signers 
 were thus obtained, and the attention of 
 the public was attracted, so that a class 
 was reached which otherwise might not 
 have been affected by the labors of those 
 other good men who had for so many 
 years been engaged in promoting temper- 
 ance in a different way. 
 
 By Christmas, in 1840, the reform had 
 become so popular, that thousands had 
 flocked to its standard, and enrolled them- 
 selves as the friends of temperance. The 
 wave had swept onward, and tidings of the 
 great reformation reached distant cities. 
 On invitation from New York, for a dele- 
 gation of five men to hold experience 
 meetings twice every day for one week, in 
 that city, Messrs. Hawkins, Pollard, Shaw, 
 Casey, and Mitchell, proceeded to that 
 place, and there held the first Washing- 
 tonian missionary temperance meeting 
 ever known in the United States. It was 
 a type of that success which was to 
 accompany this new system in behalf 
 of temperance, for, during each of the 
 speeches, multitudes came forward and 
 signed the pledge, and, taken altogether, 
 such a scene had never before been wit- 
 nessed in New York. 
 
 But the most powerful among all the 
 advocates of Washingtonian reform was 
 Mr. Hawkins, who rose from the very gut- 
 ter of drunkenness to the rostrum of im- 
 passioned eloquence in advocacy of reform, 
 and with prodigious success. The pecu- 
 liar circumstances of his history had an 
 almost overpowering effect on his own 
 feelings, whenever he spoke, and his au- 
 diences listened now breathlessly, and 
 anon with uncontrollable demonstrations 
 of enthusiasm. He was a man of plain, 
 good common sense, with a peculiar sin- 
 
THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 281 
 
 centy about him, and an easy way of 
 working up his hearers to a state of sym- 
 pathy with him. He would at one time 
 assume the melting mood, and picture the 
 scenes of a drunkard's home and that 
 home his own and the fountains of gen- 
 erous feelings, in many hearts, gushed 
 forth in tears ; and again, in a moment, 
 as lie related some ludicrous story, those 
 tearful eyes glistened with delight, sighs 
 changed to hearty shouts, and long faces 
 were convulsed with broad grins and 
 glorious smiles. Drunkards and outcasts 
 of the worst type, that swarm in the fes- 
 tering purlieus and penetralia of New York, 
 were reclaimed, and such was the over- 
 whelming power of the movement, that, 
 finally, immense meetings were held in the 
 Park. In Boston, too, the old Cradle of 
 Liberty rocked with tumultuous enthusi- 
 asm for ' independence ' from the tyrant of 
 strong drink. Festivals, children's cold 
 water armies, processions, banners, bands 
 of music, songs, etc., filled the whole land 
 with the feast of reason and the flow of 
 soul. 
 
 Statistics might be indefinitely pre- 
 sented, showing the vast results achieved 
 by this wonderful moral enginery. Up- 
 wards of twenty-two thousand names were 
 obtained to the pledge by Messrs. Pollard 
 and Wright, in a lecturing tour made by 
 them through Central New York, New 
 Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Messrs. Vicars 
 and Small and Smith revolutionized Ohio 
 and the West ; Hawkins, Bishop, John- 
 son, Hayes, and Haydock, labored from 
 one end of the country to the other. Haw- 
 kins alone, in less than twenty years, 
 traveled more than two hundred thousand 
 miles, lecturing between five and six thou- 
 sand times. Latham, Madden, Snow, 
 White, Gary, Leigh, Coffin, Brown, Riley, 
 Bungay, Copway, Zug, Drinkard, Thomp- 
 son, are names that will ever be remem- 
 bered, too, as powerful and successful 
 advocates of this reform, on the rostrum ; 
 and those of Pierpont, Burleigh, Phillips, 
 Tappan, and others, by their stirring 
 songs and poems. But, chief and most 
 powerful of the many advocates of the 
 
 temperance reformation, is John B. Gough, 
 who has proved himself in this arena, a 
 wonderful orator. His eloquence, indeed, 
 was of that electric quality which, striking 
 a chord in every heart and drawing tears 
 from every eye, perfectly swayed the vast 
 multitudes that hung upon his words 
 wherever he went. Every city, town, and 
 village, throughout the country, felt the 
 impress of his wonderful power in this 
 great reformatory movement. Like Haw- 
 kins, his condition was humble, but from 
 this he had descended to the lowest depths 
 of social and personal degradation until 
 rescued by the interposition of a friendly 
 hand. No data can adequately describe 
 the extent and value of his labors from 
 that time forth, for a quarter of a century 
 and more. 
 
 But a new and most interesting, as well 
 as important chapter, in the history of 
 temperance, is yet to be mentioned, namely, 
 the visit of Father Mathew, the world- 
 renowned 'Apostle of Temperance' in 
 Ireland, to this country, in 1849. For 
 ten years previously, he labored as a tem- 
 perance agitator and reformer in Ireland 
 and England. In five months, he obtained 
 150,000 converts in Cork ; and in Galway, 
 he administered the pledge to no less than 
 100,000 in two days ! On his landing at 
 New York city, the civil authorities ac- 
 corded him the honor of a public recep- 
 tion, certainly well deserved, by one .vho 
 had been the instrument, under divine 
 guidance, of reclaiming 6,000,000 of his 
 fellow-creatures. He visited the principal 
 cities, north and south, and everywhere a 
 hearty welcome was extended to him from 
 all classes. He remained several days in 
 Washington, where he was entertained 
 at a grand dinner by the president of the 
 United States, and received many dis- 
 tinguishing marks of esteem from gentle- 
 men highest in the offices of the govern- 
 ment. He was honored, also, with a seat 
 on the floor of the house of representa- 
 tives, and within the bar of the United 
 States senate. At Philadelphia, he re- 
 ceived his welcome in Independence Hall ; 
 and at Boston, the doors of Faneuil Hall 
 
282 
 
 THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 DISTINGUISHED TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES. 
 
THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 283 
 
 opened to him on golden hinges of accla- 
 mation, and where he administered the 
 pledge to upwards of four thousand per- 
 sons the first day. His method of admin- 
 istering the pledge was somewhat novel, 
 though at the same time quite affecting. 
 The converts knelt in a semi-circle around 
 him, and repeated the following words : 
 
 ' I promise, with divine assistance, to 
 abstain from all intoxicating liquors, cor- 
 dials, cider and fruit liquors, and to pre- 
 vent, as much as possible, intemperance in 
 others, by advice and example.' 
 
 To this, Father Mathew's response was, 
 ' May God bless you, my children. May 
 he give you grace and strength to keep 
 the pledge.' He then went to each indi- 
 vidual and marked them with the sign of 
 the cross ; but this latter ceremony, and 
 the kneeling, were dispensed with in the 
 case of Protestants. In this way, the 
 venerable and devoted man traveled over 
 almost the entire country, zealously ad- 
 vocating his great principles, and upwards 
 of six hundred thousand persons enrolled 
 themselves under his banner of total 
 abstinence. Upon descending the Missis- 
 sippi, he administered in one of the towns 
 situated on its banks, the pledge to seven 
 hundred persons. He ascended it, after 
 an interval of some months, and stopping 
 at the same town, he had the gratification 
 to find that among the converts there were 
 but three instances of relapse. Though 
 not possessed of the oratorical graces of 
 eloquence, like those of Gough, he knew 
 how to present truth with such force and 
 sincerity, as to win almost irresistibly 
 upon all hearers. The following anecdote 
 will illustrate his peculiar forte : 
 
 ' Did you see Father Mathew lately ? ' 
 said one friend to another, whom he hap- 
 pened to meet. ' I did,' was the reply. 
 ' And I'll engage he made you take the 
 pledge ! ' 'He did, indeed. But did you 
 see him lately?' 'To be sure I did.' 
 ' And did he make you take it too ? ' 
 ' That he did ! ' ' There's no escaping 
 him ; but I am not sorry for it.' ' No, nor 
 I neither.' 
 
 Personally, Father Mathew was a little 
 
 above the ordinary stature, with a full 
 and well-proportioned figure, dark hair, 
 soft blue eyes, ruddy and healthy com- 
 plexion. 
 
 Though characterized by periods of 
 prosperity and declension, the temperance 
 cause has proved itself ineradicable, even 
 under circumstances seemingly the most 
 untoward. Perhaps the greatest struggle 
 through which it has passed, in later years, 
 has been that which involved the enact- 
 ment of state prohibitory laws, which 
 visited stringent penalties upon those who 
 sold spirituous liquors. The'name of Neal 
 Dow, the author and advocate of this kind 
 of legislation, the discussion attending 
 which has been one of the most important 
 and exciting during the century, will for- 
 ever be identified with the history of the 
 American temperance reformation, as will 
 also the names of Greeley and Miner, dis- 
 tinguished champions of the same prin- 
 ciple. 
 
 It would be an easy task to fill a whole 
 volume with distinguished testimonies to 
 the value of temperance. As this, how- 
 ever, would here be impossible, a few 
 pleasant illustrative incidents will suffice 
 the purpose. 
 
 Towards the close of the revolutionary 
 war, an officer in the American army had 
 occasion to transact some business with 
 General Washington, and repaired to 
 Philadelphia for that purpose. Before 
 leaving, he received an invitation to dine 
 with the general, which was accepted and, 
 upon entering the room he found himself 
 in the company of a large number of ladies 
 and gentlemen. As they were mostly 
 strangers to him, and he was of a naturally 
 modest and unassuming disposition, he 
 took a seat near the foot of the table, and 
 refrained from taking an active part in 
 the conversation. Just before the dinner 
 was concluded, Washington politely re- 
 quested him, by name, to drink a glass of 
 wine with him. 
 
 'You will have the goodness to excuse 
 me, general,' was the reply, 'as I have 
 made it a rule not to take wine.' 
 
 All eyes were instantly turned upon the 
 
284 
 
 THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 
 
 young officer, and a murmur of contempt 
 and surprise ran around the room. That 
 a person should be so unsocial, not .to say 
 mean, as never to drink wine, was really 
 too bad ; but that he should abstain from 
 it on an occasion like that, and even when 
 offered to him by Washington himself, 
 was really intolerable ! Washington no- 
 ticed at once the feelings of his guests, 
 and promptly addressed them in his gra- 
 cious and winning way, saying: 
 
 ' Gentlemen, Mr. is right. I do 
 
 not wish any of my guests to partake 
 of anything against their inclination, 
 and I certainly do not wish them to 
 violate any established principle in their 
 
 intercourse with me. I honor Mr. for 
 
 his frankness, for his consistency in thus 
 adhering to an established rule which can 
 never do him harm, and for the adoption 
 of which, I have no doubt, he has good 
 reasons.' 
 
 General Taylor, the hero of the Mexi- 
 can war, always gave the weight of his 
 example in favor of temperance. A trav- 
 eler in the west one day encountered an 
 emigrant journeying with his family to 
 the fertile regions beyond the Mississippi, 
 all his worldly goods being packed on 
 wagons, and on one load there hung a 
 huge jug with the bottom broken out. 
 The emigrant was asked his reason for 
 carrying that with him. Why,' he said, 
 
 'that is my Taylor jug.' And what is a 
 Taylor jug ? ' inquired the friend. ' Why,' 
 said the emigrant, ' I had a son with Gen- 
 eral Taylor's army in Mexico, and the old 
 general always told him to carry his whis- 
 key-jug with a hole in the bottom ; and 
 since that, I have carried my jug as you 
 see it, and I find it is the best invention I 
 ever met with.' 
 
 Everybody admired Admiral Farragut's 
 heroism in clinging to the topmast to 
 direct a battle ; but there was another 
 particular of that contest, illustrating no 
 less forcibly his heroic character. ' Ad- 
 miral,' said one of his officers, the night 
 before the battle, ' won't you consent to 
 give Jack a glass of grog in the morning, 
 not enough to make him drunk, but enough 
 to make him fight cheerfully ? ' ' Well,' 
 replied the admiral, ' I have been to sea 
 considerably, and have seen a battle or 
 two, but I never found that I wanted rum 
 to enable me to do my duty. I will order 
 two cups of coffee to each man, at two 
 o'clock ; and, at eight o'clock, I will pipe 
 all hands to breakfast, in Mobile bay.' 
 And he did give Jack the coffee; and 
 then he went up to the mast-head, and the 
 result is well known. 
 
 These illustrations of devotedness to the 
 principle of temperance in high places 
 might be greatly multiplied. Their value 
 to the cause ca;* v -vdly be overestimated. 
 
XXXV. 
 
 FREMONT'S HEROIC EXPEDITION OF DISCOVERY TO 
 
 THE UNTRACKED REGION OF THE NORTH-WEST, 
 
 OREGON, CALIFORNIA, ETC. 1842. 
 
 Hii Exploration of the Sierra Nevada, and of that Wonderful Gateway in the Rocky Mountains, the 
 South Pass. Plants the American Flag on the Highest Peak of that Lofty Range. He Enrichei 
 Every Branch of Natural Science, and Illustrates a Remote and Boundless Country Before Entirely 
 
 Unknown. Fremont, a Pioneer of Empire. National Objectg 
 cf this Tour Enchanting Record of Adventure. Surveys 
 and Researches. Humboldt's Tribute of Admiration. Wild 
 Grandeur of the Route. Scenes in this Vast Domain. The 
 Rocky Mountains : First Glimpses. Formation of the South 
 Pass. " Kit Carson," the Intrepid Guide. At the Topmost 
 Peak, 14,000 Feet Startling Boldness of the View. Over- 
 powering Quiet and Solitude. Evidences of Awful Convul- 
 sions. Unfurling the Flag of the Union. Appearance of 
 Great Salt Lake. Eternal Snows of the Sierra Nevada. In 
 the San Joaquin Valley. An Immense Circuit of Travel 
 Fremont, the Modern Pathfinder. Honors from His Country- 
 men. A King's Gift and Regards. 
 
 * Prominently deferring of distinguished recognition is the aervk 
 geographical Bc ience by the American explorer, Fremont." Km 
 WILLIAM IV., or PBUSSIA, TO BABON HCMBOLDT. 
 
 rvice rendered to 
 FBEDKBIC 
 
 VEEY American reader is enchanted with the narrative of 
 THE SOUTH-WEST, those intrepid and heroic explorations of Fremont, "the 
 Pathfinder," which, in the language of Humboldt, himself the greatest scientific 
 explorer and geographer the world has ever seen, " enriched every branch of natural 
 science, and illustrated a vast country before entirely unknown," and in appreciation 
 of which he received from his admiring countrymen the highest tokens of honor, and, 
 from kingly hands, acknowledgments inscribed on tablets of gold. 
 
 Several exploring tours of the western portion of our continent, within the geograph- 
 ical boundaries of the country subsequently known by the title of Oregon, took place 
 before that which was led by the brave Fremont, but none with such rich and varied 
 results as the latter. 
 
 It being desirable for our government to become fully acquainted with the character 
 of the vast territory between the southern geographical boundary of the United States 
 and the Rocky Mountains, around the head-waters of the Missouri, Fremont was 
 appointed to superintend that exploring tour, under the direction of Colonel Abert, 
 the chief of the topographical bureau at Washington, and by him projected and 
 
286 
 
 FREMONT'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 planned, with the approval of Secretary 
 Poinsett. The great object of this expe- 
 dition was to examine and report upon the 
 rivers and country between the frontiers 
 of Missouri and the base of the Rocky 
 Mountains ; and especially to examine the 
 character, and ascertain the latitude and 
 longitude of that wonderful gateway, the 
 South Pass, the great crossing place to 
 these mountains on the way to Oregon. 
 
 In executing his official instructions, 
 Fremont proceeded up the Kansas river 
 far enough to ascertain its peculiar feat- 
 ures, and then crossed over to the Great 
 Platte, and pursued that river to its source 
 in the mountains, where the Sweet Water 
 a head branch of the Platte issues 
 from the neighborhood of the South Pass. 
 He reached the Pass on the eighth of 
 August, and found it to be a wide and low 
 depression of the mountains, of very easy 
 ascent, and where a plainly beaten wagon 
 load leads to the Oregon through the valley 
 of Lewis's river, a fork of the Columbia. 
 He went through the Pass, and saw the 
 head-waters of the Colorado, of the Gulf 
 of California ; and, leaving the valleys to 
 indulge a laudable curiosity, and to make 
 some useful observations, Fremont, at- 
 tended by four of his men, climbed the 
 loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains, 
 until then untrodden by any known human 
 being ; and, on the fifteenth of August, 
 looked down upon ice and snow some thou- 
 sand feet below, and traced in the distance 
 the valleys of the rivers which, taking 
 their rise in the same elevated ridge, flow 
 in opposite directions to the Pacific ocean 
 and to the Mississippi. From that ultimate 
 Jioint he returned by the valley of the 
 Great Platte, following the stream in its 
 whole course, and solving all questions in 
 relation to its navigability, and the feat- 
 ures of the country through which it flows. 
 
 On the prairies which border the forks 
 of the river Platte, the travelers bivou- 
 acked in the evening, eating their meat 
 with a good relish ; for they were all in fine 
 health, and had ridden nearly all of a long 
 summer's day, with a burning sun reflected 
 from the sands. 
 
 When about sixty miles distant, the 
 party caught the first faint glimpse of the 
 Rocky Mountains. Though a tolerably 
 bright day, there was a slight mist, and 
 the snowy summit of ' Long's Peak,' 
 showing like a small cloud near the hori- 
 zon, was just barely discernible. There 
 was, however, no mistake in distinguishing 
 it, there being a perceptible difference 
 in its appearance from the white clouds 
 that were floating about the sky. 
 
 Proceeding onward through hostile 
 tribes of Indians, Fremont reached the 
 first military frontier post Fort Laramie; 
 departing thence, in a short time, for the 
 bases of the " great mountains." With 
 the change in the geological formation on 
 leaving Fort Laramie, the whole face of the 
 country appears entirely changed. East- 
 ward of the meridian, the principal objects 
 which strike the eye of the traveler are 
 the absence of timber, and the immense 
 expanse of prairie, covered with the verd- 
 ure of rich grasses, and highly adapted 
 for pasturage. Wherever they are not 
 disturbed by the vicinity of man, large 
 herds of buffalo give animation to this 
 country. 
 
 Many sufferings were endured in reach- 
 ing the Rocky Mountains, but the follow- 
 ing details show that the labors of the 
 party were amply rewarded. About six 
 miles from their encampment brought the 
 party to the summit of the South Pass. 
 The ascent had been so gradual, that, with 
 all the intimate knowledge possessed by 
 Carson, the guide, and who had made that 
 country his home for seventeen }'ears, the 
 party were obliged to watch very closely 
 to find the place at which they had reached 
 the culminating point. This was between 
 two low hills', rising on either hand fifty 
 or sixty feet. From the broken ground 
 where this pas's commences, at the foot of 
 the Wind River Chain, the view to the 
 south-east is over a champaign country, 
 broken, at the distance of nineteen miles, 
 by the Table Rock, which, with the other 
 isolated hills in its vicinity, seemingly 
 stands on a comparative plain. The 
 ' Pass ' in no manner resembles the places 
 
FREMONT'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 287 
 
 to which that term is commonly applied 
 nothing of the gorge-like character and 
 winding ascents of the Alleghany passes 
 iu America, nor of the great St. Bernard 
 and Simplon passes in Europe. Approach- 
 ing from the mouth of the Sweet Water, a 
 sandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles 
 long, conducts, by a gradual and regular 
 ascent, to the summit, about seven thou- 
 sand feet above the sea; and the traveler, 
 without being reminded of any change, 
 by toilsome ascents, suddenly finds him- 
 self on the waters which flow to the Pacific 
 ocean. On this short mountain-chain are 
 the head-waters of four great rivers of the 
 western continent, namely, the Colorado, 
 Columbia, Missouri, and Platte rivers. 
 
 [ PLASTCfG AMERICAN FLAG ON THE 
 KOCKY MOUNTAINS, BY FREMONT. 
 
 A scene of characteris- 
 tic adventure was that of 
 reaching the summit of 
 these mountains. Putting 
 hands and feet in the crev- 
 ices between the blocks, 
 Fremont succeeded in get- 
 
 ting over it, and, on attaining the top, 
 found his companions in a small valley 
 below. Descending to them, they con- 
 tinued climbing, and in a short time 
 reached the crest. He sprang upon the 
 summit, and unfurled the national flay to 
 wave in the breeze where never flag waved 
 before. 
 
 During the morning's ascent, no sign 
 of animal life was met with, except a small 
 sparrow-like bird. A stillness the most 
 profound and a solitude the most terrible 
 forced themselves constantly on the mind 
 as the great features of the place. Here, 
 on the summit, where the stillness was ab- 
 solute, unbroken by any sound, and the 
 solitude complete, the explorers thought 
 themselves beyond the region of animated 
 life ; but, while they were sitting on the 
 rock, a solitary humble-bee came winging 
 his flight from the eastern valley, and lit 
 on the knee of one of the men. It was a 
 strange place, the icy rock and the highest 
 peak of the Kocky Mountains, for a lover 
 of warm sunshine and flowers. The 
 barometer stood at 18.293, the attached 
 thermometer at 44 degrees; giving for 
 the elevation of this summit 13,570 feet 
 above the sea, it may be called the highest 
 known flight of the bee. From this pre- 
 sumed loftiest peak of the great mountain 
 range, since known as Fremont's Peak, 
 could be seen innumerable lakes and 
 streams, the spring of the Colorado of the 
 Gulf of California, on the one side ; on the 
 other, was the Wind River valley, where 
 were the heads of the Yellow Stone branch 
 of the Missouri ; far to the north could be 
 faintly descried the snowy heads of the 
 Trois Tetons, where were the sources of 
 the Missouri and Columbia rivers ; and at 
 the southern extremity of the ridge, the 
 peaks were plainly visible, among which 
 were some of the springs of the Nebraska, 
 or Platte river. The whole scene around 
 had one main striking feature, which was 
 that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to 
 its length, the ridge was split into chasms 
 and fissures ; between which rose the thin 
 lofty walls, terminated with slender mina- 
 rets and columns. 
 
288 
 
 FREMONT'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 Fremont's next tour was devoted to 
 Oregon and California. On arriving at 
 the Utah lake, he had completed an 
 immense circuit of twelve degrees diame- 
 
 ter north and south, and ten degrees east 
 and west. They found themselves in 
 Ma}-, 1844, on the same sheet of water 
 which they had left in September, 1843. 
 The Utah is the southern limb of the 
 Great Salt Lake ; and thus they had seen 
 this remarkable sheet of water both at its 
 northern and southern extremity, and were 
 able to fix its position at these two points. 
 In this eight months circuit, the explorers 
 found that the mountains on the Pacific 
 slope are higher, more numerous, and more 
 distinctly defined in their ranges and 
 directions, than those on the Atlantic side ; 
 and, what is contrary to the natural order 
 of such formations, one of these ranges, 
 which is near the coast the Sierra Nevada 
 and the Coast Range presents higher 
 elevations and peaks than any which are 
 to be found in the Rocky Mountains them- 
 selves. Dir-ing all this circuit, the party 
 were never out of sight of snow; and the 
 Sierra Nevada, where they crossed it, was 
 nearly two thousand feet higher than the 
 famous South Pass. Peaks are constantly 
 seen which enter the region of eternal 
 snow. 
 
 Differing so much from the Atlantic 
 
 side of our continent in coast, mountains, 
 and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it 
 in yet another most rare and singular 
 feature that of the Great Interior Basin. 
 The structure of the country would require 
 this formation of interior lakes, for the 
 waters which would collect between the 
 Rockj r Mountains and the Sierra Nevada, 
 not being able to cross this formidable 
 barrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the 
 Colorado, must naturally collect into reser- 
 voirs, each of which would have its little 
 system of streams and rivers to supply it. 
 The Great Salt Lake is a formation of this 
 kind, and quite a large one, having many 
 streams, and one considerable river, four 
 or five hundred miles long, falling into it. 
 Fremont saw this lake and river, and 
 examined them ; he also saw the Wahsatch 
 and Bear River mountains inclosing the 
 waters of the lake on the east, and consti- 
 tute, in that quarter, the rim of the Great 
 Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern 
 base of the Sierra Nevada, where the party 
 traveled for forty-two days, they saw the 
 line of lakes and rivers which lie at the 
 foot of that sierra, and which sierra is the 
 western rim of the basin. In going down 
 Lewis's Fork, and the main Columbia, they 
 crossed only inferior streams coming in 
 from the left; ancloften saw the mountains 
 at their heads, white with snow, which 
 divided the waters of the desert from those 
 of the Columbia, the range of mountains 
 forming the rim of the basin on its north- 
 ern side. In returning from California 
 along the Spanish trail, as far as the head 
 of the Santa Clara Fork of {he Rio Virgen, 
 the party crossed only small streams 
 making their way south to the Colorado, 
 or lost in sand, as the Mo-hah-ve ; while 
 to the left, lofty mountains, their summits 
 white with snow, were often visible and 
 which, Fremont concluded, must have 
 turned water to the north as well as to the 
 south, thus constituting, on this part, the 
 southern rim of the basin. At the head 
 of the Santa Clara Fork, and in the Vegas 
 de Santa Clara, they crossed the ridge 
 which parted the two systems of waters. 
 They entered the basin at that point, and 
 
FREMONT'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 289 
 
 continued for some time to travel in it, 
 having its south-eastern rim the Wah- 
 satch mountain on the right, and cross- 
 ing the streams which flow down into it. 
 
 In this eventful exploration, all the 
 great features of the western slope of our 
 continent were brought to light the 
 Great Salt Lake, the Utah Lake, the Little 
 Salt Lake at all which places, then desert, 
 the Mormons now are ; the Sierra Nevada, 
 then solitary in the snow, now crowded 
 with Americans, digging gold from its 
 banks ; the beautiful valleys of the Sacra- 
 mento and San Joaquin, then alive with 
 wild horse ; elk, deer, and wild fowls, now 
 smiling with American cultivation. The 
 Great Basin itself, and its contents ; the 
 three Parks ; the approximation of the 
 great rivers which, rising together in the 
 central region of the Kocky Mountains, go 
 off .. 1 ,st and west towards the rising and 
 the siting sun, all these, and other 
 strange features of a :jew region, more 
 Asiatic than America n. were brought to 
 
 It was in May, 1845, that Fremont set 
 out on his third expedition for the explora- 
 tion of the Great West, and he was soon 
 at the north end of the great Tla-math 
 lake, and in Oregon. Hostilities being 
 likely to break out between the United 
 States and Mexico, Fremont, in order to 
 avoid exciting any unjust suspicion as to 
 the character of his movements, obtained 
 leave of the Mexican general at Monterey, 
 to encamp during the ensuing winter, in 
 the San Joaquin valley. It was not long, 
 however, before open diplomatic hostilities 
 broke out between the two republics, and 
 Fremont received word from his governr 
 ment to keep an eye upon Mexican and 
 other designs upon California. General 
 Kearney, by order of government, was 
 constituted head of the army of the west, 
 which was to retaliate sternly upon 
 Mexico, for her assumed aggressions. 
 New Mexico was soon prostrate before 
 American arms. On the fifth of July, 
 1846, under the lead of Fremont, a band 
 
 FREMONT ON HIS GREAT EXPLORING TOUR TO THE FAR WEST AND ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 
 
 light and revealed to public view in the of Americans declared their independence 
 
 results of this exploration. But the great of Mexico at Sonoma, a small town near 
 
 pathfinder was to win laurels in still San Francisco, and, not long after, they 
 
 another field. joined Commodore Sloat, who had recently 
 19 
 
290 
 
 FREMONT'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 reduced Monterey. The successor of Sloat 
 was Stockton, who, in connection with 
 Fremont, at once gained possession of 
 Ciudad de los Angelos, the capital of 
 Upper California; and one event speedily 
 succeeded another, until, seemingly as 
 inevitable as the gravitation of fate, the 
 loss of California was consummated, and 
 Fremont was appointed governor of the 
 territory, which, largely through his efforts, 
 had now become a permanent possession 
 of the United States. 
 
 So curious a link in this chain of events, 
 as the throwing off of the Mexican yoke 
 at Sonoma, and illustrating so aptly, as it 
 does, the intrepidity of the great explorer, 
 possesses an interest peculiarly appropriate 
 to this narrative. Having aided in clear- 
 ing the enemy from the country north of 
 the bay of San Francisco, Fremont re- 
 turned to Sonoma on the evening of the 
 fourth of July, and, on the morning of the 
 fifth, called the people together, explained 
 to them the condition of things in the 
 province, and recommended an immediate 
 declaration of independence. The declar- 
 ation was made, and he was selected as 
 governor, or chief director of affairs. 
 
 From Sonoma to Yerba Buena, (says 
 one who accompanied him,) the little 
 hamlet where now stands the queen city 
 of the Pacific, Fremont augmented his 
 stock of horses to the number of fifteen 
 hundred, completely clearing the country; 
 and then commenced one of the most pecu- 
 liar races for a fight ever probably known. 
 Rarely speaking but to urge on his men, 
 or to question some passing native, taking 
 the smallest modicum of refreshment, and 
 watching while others snatched a moment's 
 repose, was he wrapped up in his project 
 and determined to have some of the fight. 
 Through San Pablo, and Monterey, and 
 
 Josepha, they dashed like the phantom 
 riders of the Hartz mountains, startling 
 the inhabitants, and making the night- 
 watcher cross himself in terror as their 
 band flew on. The river Sacrificios was 
 reached ; swollen by the rains, it rolled on, 
 a rapid, muddy stream ; his men paused. 
 
 " Forward ! Forward ! " cried Fremont. 
 
 Dashing in himself, the struggle is a 
 fierce one, but his gallant mustang breasts 
 the current, and he reaches the opposite 
 shore in safety ; his men after a time join 
 him, two brave fellows finding a watery 
 grave, and many horses being carried down 
 the stream ; but nothing can now stop 
 him the heights adjacent to the Puebla 
 appear now a smile might be seen on the 
 imperturbable visage of the leader 'tis the 
 sixth day, and the goal is won ! 
 
 With ninety men on the last of his car- 
 avan of horses, he fell like a thunderbolt 
 on the rear of the Mexicans. The day 
 was with them ; the little band of stout 
 hearts guarding the presidio, taken by 
 surprise, and not having the advantage of 
 the Mexicans in regard to horses, were 
 beginning to waver. But cheer up, cheer 
 again succor is at hand. On come those 
 riders of Fremont nothing can withstand 
 their shock. With shouts of triumph they 
 change the battle to a rout. The field is 
 won ! The rout of the enemy was com' 
 plete, and so ended the ride of the one 
 hundred. Thus did Fremont display, by 
 .the rarest achievements, the character of 
 a consummate scientific explorer and brave 
 soldier ; and, for his pre-eminent services 
 in behalf of geographical science, he 
 received the highest honors from the 
 learned societies of Europe and America, 
 and a rich and massive gold medal from 
 the king of Prussia, through the hands of 
 Baron Humboldt. 
 
XXXVI. 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES BRIG-OF-WAR 
 SOMERS, CAPTAIN A. S. MACKENZIE. 1842 
 
 Deep-Laid Plot to Seize the Vessel, Commit Wholesale Murder of Her Men, Raise the Black Flag, and 
 Convert Her into a Pirate. All Prizes to be Plundered, Burnt, their Crews Butchered, and Women 
 and Girls Ravished Midshipman Spencer, Son of a United States Cabinet Officer, the Ringleader. 
 The Chief Conspirators Hung at the Yard-Arm. First Mutiny in the United States Navy. Spen- 
 cer's Hold Upon His Comrades. Death the Penalty of Disclosure. Confidence Fortunately Mis- 
 placed. A Man of Honor Tampered With. Captain Mackenzie Informed of the Plot. Treats it 
 as Wild and Improbable. Confronts and Questions Spencer. Orders Him to be Ironed. Plan Found 
 in His Razor-Case. Alarming Disaffection of the Crew. None of the Officers Implicated. Close 
 Investigation of the Case. Spencer, Cromwell, and Small, to Die. Their Fate Announced to 
 Them. Spencer's Account of His Life. They Meet On Their Way to be Hung. Treatment of 
 Each Other. Spencer Begs to Give the Last Signal. Closing Scene of the Tragedy. All Hands 
 Cheer the Pliin Raising the Banner of the Cross. 
 
 " I am leagued to Ret posieasion of the vessel, murder the commander an* officer*, 
 choose from among the crew who are willing to join me such as will be useful, murdet 
 tlie rest, and commence pirating; to attack no vessels that I am not sure to capture, 
 to destroy every vestige of the captured vessels; and to select such of the female paasmi- 
 gers as are suitable, and, after using them sufficiently, to dispose of Ulem." SPEHCER 
 DECLABATIOK. 
 
 EENLY was the heart of the universal Americam 
 nation wrung, in December, 1842, at the story of the 
 mutiny and tragedy on board the United States brig 
 Somers, then under the command of Captain Alex- 
 ander Slidell Mackenzie. The chief ringleader in 
 this deep-dyed and amazing plot of crime and blood, 
 
 THE BLACK FLAG. was no less a person than Midshipman Philip Spen- 
 
 cer, son of the distinguished statesman, Hon. John C. Spencer, of New York, secretary- 
 of-\var under President Tyler, officiating in that capacity at the very time of the 
 ghastly occurrences here recited.. 
 
 In the whole history of the American navy, this act stands out by itself, without a 
 parallel or precedent; and, surely, no pen of romance could weave a tale of imaginary 
 crime equal in ghastly horror to this startling chapter the first regularly organized 
 mutiny in the annals of the United States naval service. 
 
 The development of the mutinous scheme transpired on the voyage of the Somers to 
 the United States from Liberia, from which place she sailed on the eleventh of Novem- 
 ber, intending to proceed home via St. Thomas. It was on Saturday, the twenty-sixth 
 of November, that Lieutenant Gansevoort went into the cabin and irformed Captain 
 Mackenzie that a conspiracy existed on board of the brig to capture her, murder the 
 commander, the officers, and most of the crew, and convert her into a pirate, acting 
 Midshipman Philip Spencer being at the head of it. He stated that Purser Hieskell 
 
292 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 had just informed him that Mr. Wales, 
 his steward, had approached him as if to 
 converse on their joint duty, and revealed 
 to him, for the purpose of its being com- 
 municated to the commander, important 
 information. This was, that, on the night 
 previous, being November twenty-fifth, he, 
 Wales, had been accosted by Spencer, and 
 invited by him to get up on the booms, as 
 he had something uncommon to say. 
 When on the booms, Spencer addressed 
 him as follows : 
 
 " Do you fear death ? Do you fear a 
 dead man ? Are you afraid to kill a, 
 man?" 
 
 Mr. Wales, thus accosted, and having 
 his curiosity excited, with admirable cool- 
 ness induced Spencer to go on, and took 
 the oath of secrecy which was administered 
 to him. Spencer then informed him that 
 he was leagued with about twenty of the 
 crew to get possession of the vessel, 
 murder the commander and officers, choose 
 from among those of the crew who were 
 willing to join him such as would be 
 useful, and murder the rest and commence 
 pirating. He mentioned all the details of 
 the plan, and which was well suited to the 
 attainment of his object involving, in- 
 deed, much better notions of seamanship 
 than he himself was capable of forming. 
 As one of the inducements to her capture, 
 he stated that a box, containing wine of 
 rare value, brought off with much care at 
 Madeira, as a present from the United 
 States consul at Funchal to Commodore 
 Nicholson, contained money or treasure to 
 a large amount. It was his purpose to 
 carry the vessel to the Isle of Pines, where 
 one of his associates, who had been in the 
 business before, had friends ; to attack no 
 vessels that he was not sure to capture ; to 
 destroy every vestige of the captured 
 vessels, after having removed what was 
 useful; to select such of the female pas- 
 sengers as were suitable, and, after they 
 had used them sufficiently, to dispose of 
 them. Spencer also stated that he had 
 the written plan of his project in the back 
 of his cravat, which he would show to Mr. 
 Wales in the morning. On separating, 
 
 Spencer gave expression to terrible threats 
 of instant death to Wales from himself or 
 his accomplices, should Wales utter one 
 word of what had passed. 
 
 So monstrous and improbable did this 
 project appear to Captain Mackenzie, as 
 thus related to him by Lieutenant Ganse- 
 voort, that he at first treated it with ridi- 
 cule, premising that Spencer had been 
 f reading some piratical stories, and then 
 amused himself with working upon Wales's 
 credulity. Considering it, however, to be 
 his duty to be on his guard, lest there 
 should be even a shadow of reality in the 
 scheme, Mackenzie directed his first lieu- 
 tenant, Gansevoort, to watch Spencer nar- 
 rowly, without, of course, seeming to do so. 
 
 In the course of the day, Lieutenant 
 Gansevoort gave information that Spencer 
 had been in the wardroom examining a 
 chart of the West Indies, and had asked 
 the assistant surgeon some questions about 
 the Isle of Pines, the surgeon replying 
 that it was a place much frequented by 
 pirates, and dryly asking him in return if 
 he had any acquaintances there. He 
 passed the day rather sullenly in one 
 corner of the steerage, as was his custom, 
 engaged in examing a small piece of paper 
 and writing on it with his pencil, and 
 occasionally finding relaxation in working 
 with a penkife at the tail of a devil-fish, 
 one of the joints of which he had formed 
 into a sliding-ring for his cravat. He had 
 endeavored, too, for some days, to ascertain 
 the rate of the chronometer, by applying 
 to Midshipman Rodgers, to whom it was 
 unknown, and who referred him to the 
 master. With boatswain's mate F. Crom- 
 well, and Elisha Small, seaman, he was 
 seen in secret and nightly conferences, and 
 to both of these he had given money, a8 
 well as to others of the crew ; he had dis- 
 tributed tobacco extensively among the 
 apprentices, in defiance of reiterated 
 orders ; corrupting the wardroom steward, 
 he caused him to steal brandy from the 
 wardroom mess, with which Spencer not 
 only got drunk himself, but administered 
 it to several of the crew. Though servile 
 in his intercourse with Captain Mackenzie, 
 
MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 293 
 
 when among the crew Spencer loaded him 
 with blasphemous vituperation, and pro- 
 claimed that it would be a pleasing task 
 to roll him overboard off the round-house. 
 At one time he drew a brig with a black 
 flay, and asked one of the midshipmen 
 what he thought of it; he repeatedly 
 asserted, in the early part of the cruise, 
 that the brig might be easily taken ; and, 
 a short time prior to the revelation of the 
 plot, he had examined the hand of Mid- 
 shipman Rodgers, told his fortune, and 
 predicted for him a speedy and violent 
 death. These and various other circum- 
 stances, determined Captain Mackenzie to 
 make sure at once of Spencer's person, 
 and, accordingly, at evening quarters, all 
 the officers were ordered to lay aft on the 
 quarter-deck, excepting the midshipman 
 stationed on the foreca'stle. The master 
 was ordered to take the wheel, and those 
 of the crew stationed abaft sent to the 
 mainmast. Captain Mackenzie now ap- 
 proached Spencer, and said to him 
 
 " I learn, Mr. Spencer, that you aspire 
 to the command of the Somers." 
 
 "Oh no, sir," replied Spencer, with a 
 deterential, but unmoved and gently smil- 
 ing expression. 
 
 " Did you not tell Mr. Wales, sir, that 
 
 you had a project to kill the commander, 
 the officers, and a considerable portion of 
 the crew of this vessel, and to convert her 
 into a pirate ? " 
 
 " I may have told him so, sir, but it was 
 in joke." 
 
 "You admit, then, that you told him 
 so?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, but in joke ! " 
 
 " This, sir, is joking on a forbidden sub- 
 ject this joke may cost you your life ! 
 Be pleased to remove your neck handker- 
 chief." 
 
 "What have you done with the paper 
 containing an account of your project, 
 which you told Mr. Wales was in the back 
 of your neck handkerchief ?" nothing 
 being now found in it. 
 
 "It is a paper containing my day's 
 work, and I have destroyed it."^, 
 
 "It is a singular place to keep days' 
 work in." 
 
 " It is a convenient one," was the defer- 
 ential and bland reply. 
 
 "You must have been aware that you 
 could only have compassed your designs 
 by passing over my dead body, and after 
 that the bodies of all the officers. You 
 had given yourself, sir, a great deal to do. 
 It will be necessary for me to confine you, 
 sir;" saying which, Captain Mackenzie 
 turned to Lieutenant Gansevoort with the 
 order " Arrest Mr. Spencer, and put him 
 in double irons." 
 
 Lieutenant Gansevoort stepped forward, 
 and, taking Spencer's sword, ordered him 
 to be double ironed, and, as an additional 
 security, handcuffed. Lieutenant Ganse- 
 voort was directed to keep a constant watch 
 upon Spencer, to answer all his wants, but 
 to have him instantly put to death if 
 detected in speaking to or holding intelli- 
 gence in any way with the crew. 
 
 On searching Spencer's locker, a small 
 razor-case was found, which he had re- 
 cently drawn from the purser, with a 
 razor in it. Instead of the razor, the case 
 was found to contain a small paper, rolled 
 in another; on the inner one were strange 
 characters, which proved to be Greek, a 
 language understood by Spencer. It for- 
 
294 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 tunately ha^ened that Midshipman Rod- 
 gers was also acquainted with Greek, and, 
 on his converting the> characters into En- 
 glish, they exhibited veil-known names 
 Among the crew. The certain the doubt- 
 ful those who were to be kept whether 
 they would join or not those who were to 
 do the work of murder in th* various de- 
 partments, to take the wheel, to open the 
 arm-chests were arranged in separate 
 rows. 
 
 The next day, the crew were inspected 
 at quarters, at ten o'clock, Gaptuin Mac- 
 kenzie taking his station abaft, with the 
 intention of particularly observing Crom- 
 well and Small. The persons of both were 
 faultlessly clean. Cromwell stood up to 
 his full stature, his muscles braced, his 
 battle-axe grasped resolutely, his cheek 
 pale, but his eye fixed as indifferently, at 
 the other side, and he had a determined 
 and dangerous air. Small made a very 
 different figure ; his appearance was 
 ghastly; he shifted his weight from side 
 to side, and his battle-axe passed from one 
 hand to the other ; his eye wandered irres- 
 olutely, but never towards Captain Mac- 
 kenzie. Cromwell was the tallest man 
 on board, Small the shortest. 
 
 From the known complicity of Cromwell 
 in the plot, he was brought to the quarter- 
 deck at night, where Captain Mackenzie 
 caused him to sit down, and, on question- 
 ing him as to a secret conversation he had 
 held the night before with Spencer, he 
 denied its being him, and said, " It was 
 not ine, sir, it was Small." Cromwell was 
 immediately ironed; and Small, thus 
 pointed out by an associate to increased 
 suspicion, was also sent for, interrogated, 
 and ironed. Increased vigilance was now 
 en joined upon all the officers ; henceforward 
 all were perpetually armed ; and either 
 the captain or his first lieutenant was 
 always on deck, and generally both of 
 them were. Several acts of disobedience 
 occurring among the ship's company, pun- 
 ishment was inflicted upon the transgres- 
 sors to the full extent of the law ; after 
 which, Captain Mackenzie took occasion to 
 address the crew, explaining to them the 
 
 general nature of Spencer's project, en- 
 deavoring to divert the minds of the 
 slightly disaffected from the pictures o* 
 successful vice which the piratical plot 
 presented, and informing them that the 
 majority of them, whatever might be their 
 inclinations, were to share the fate of the 
 officers. It is an interesting fact, that 
 every one of the officers of the Somers, 
 from the first lieutenant to the command- 
 er's clerk, proved faithful, chivalrous, and 
 patriotic, from first to last. 
 
 The effect of the captain's address was 
 various, upon the minds of the crew. It 
 filled many with horror at the idea of what 
 they had escaped from ; it inspired others 
 with terror at the danger awaiting them 
 from their connection with the conspiracy; 
 but the whole crew was far from tranquil- 
 lized. The most seriously implicated 
 began once more to collect in knots during 
 the night. Seditious words were heard 
 through the Tessel, and an insolent and 
 menacing air assumed by many. Some o:, 
 the petty officers had been sounded by th? 
 first lieutenant, and found to be true to 
 their colors. They were under the impres- 
 sion that the vessel was yet far from safe, 
 and that an outbreak having for its object 
 the release of the prisoners was seriously 
 contemplated. 
 
 This alarming state of disaffection, the 
 increased number who missed their muster, 
 repeated acts of insubordination, together 
 with other considerations, induced Captain 
 Mackenzie to have a thorough inspection 
 of the crew, the immediate arrest of those 
 principally suspected, and, on the thirtieth 
 of November, he addressed a letter to all 
 the officers on board, excepting the mid- 
 shipmen, asking their opinion as to what 
 additional measures were necessary to tb.3 
 security of the vessel. On receipt of this 
 letter, all the officers assembled in th=! 
 wardroom and commenced the examination 
 of witnesses. The witnesses were duh 
 sworn, the testimony accurately written, 
 down, and, in addition to the oath, each 
 witness signed the evidence which he had 
 given, after hearing it read over to him. 
 
 Without interruption and without food, 
 
MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 the officers continued in their occupation a 
 whole day, and the unanimous result of 
 their deliberations was, that Spencer, 
 Cromwell, and Small should be put to 
 death. 
 
 In the justice of this opinion Captain 
 Mackenzie at once concurred, and in the 
 necessity of carrying its recommendation 
 into immediate effect. The petty officers 
 were now mustered on the quarter-deck, 
 and they were each armed with a cutlass, 
 pistol, and cartridge-box, after which the 
 captain said to them, 
 
 " My lads ! you are to look at me to 
 obey iny orders and to see my orders 
 obeyed! Go forward!" 
 
 The captain now gave orders that imme- 
 diate preparations be made for hanging the 
 three principal criminals at the main yard- 
 arm ; and all hands were called to witness 
 the punishment. The after guard and 
 idlers of both watches were mustered on 
 the quarter-deck at the whip intended for 
 Spencer; the forecastlemen and foretop- 
 
 men at that of Cromwell, to whose corrup- 
 tion they had been chiefly exposed ; and 
 the maintopmen of both watches at that 
 intended for Small, who for a month or 
 more had filled the situation of captain of 
 the maintop. The officers were stationed 
 about the decks, and the petty officers 
 similarly distributed, with orders to cut 
 down whoever should let go the whip with 
 even one hand or failed to haul on it when 
 ordered. The ensign and pennant being 
 
 bent on and ready for hoisting, Captain 
 Mackenzie put on his full uniform, and 
 proceeded to execute the most painfu, 
 duty that had ever devolved on an Ameri- 
 can commander that of announcing to 
 the criminals their fate. To Spencer he 
 said: 
 
 " When you were about to take my life, 
 and to dishonor me as an officer while in 
 the execution of my rightful duty, without 
 cause of offense to you, on speculation, it 
 was your intention to remove me suddenly 
 from the world, in the darkness of the 
 night, in my sleep, without a moment to 
 utter one whisper of affection to my wife 
 and children one prayer for their welfare. 
 Your life is now forfeited to your country; 
 and the necessities of the case, 'growing 
 out of your corruption of the crew, compel 
 me to take it. I will not, however, imi- 
 tate your intended example as to the 
 manner of claiming the sacrifice. If there 
 yet remains you one feeling true to 
 nature, it shall be gratified. If you have 
 any word to send to your parents, it shall 
 be recorded, and faithfully delivered. Ten 
 minutes shall be granted you for this pur* 
 pose." 
 
 This intimation entirely overcame him. 
 He sank, with tears, upon his knees, and 
 said he was not fit to die. Captain Mac- 
 kenzie repeated to him his own catechism, 
 and begged him at least to let the officer 
 set to the men he had corrupted and se- 
 duced, the example of dying with decorum. 
 This immediately restored him to entire 
 self-possession, and, while he was engaged 
 in prayer, Captain Mackenzie went and 
 made in succession the same communica- 
 tion to Cromwell and Small. Cromwell 
 fell upon his knees completely immanned, 
 protested his innocence, and invoked the 
 name of his wife. Spencer said: "As 
 these are the last words I have to say, I 
 trust they will be believed: Cromwell is 
 innocent!" Though the evidence had 
 been conclusive, Captain Mackenzie was 
 staggered, and at once consulted Lieu- 
 tenant Gansevoort, who said there was not 
 a shadow of doubt. He was told to con- 
 i suit the petty officers ; he was condemned 
 
296 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 by acclamation by them all, as the one 
 man of whom they had real apprehen- 
 sion. Spencer probably wished to save 
 Cromwell, in fulfillment of some mutual 
 oath ; or, more likely, he hoped he 
 might yet get possession of the vessel, 
 and carry out the scheme of murder 
 and outrage matured between them. 
 Small alone, who had been set down 
 as the poltroon of the three, received 
 the announcement of his fate with com- 
 posure. When asked if he had any 
 messages to send, he said, "I have 
 nobody to care for me but my poor old 
 mother, and I had rather she should 
 know how I have died." On Captain 
 Mackenzie returning again to Spencer, and 
 asking him if he had no messages to send 
 to his friends, he answered, " None that 
 they would wish to receive." Subse- 
 quently he said : 
 
 "Tell them I die, wishing them every 
 blessing and happiness. / deserve death 
 for this and many other crimes. There 
 are few crimes that I have not committed. 
 I feel sincerely penitent, and my only fear 
 of death is, that my repentance may be 
 too late. I have wronged many persons, 
 but chiefly my parents. This will kill my 
 poor mother ! I do not know what would 
 have become of me had I succeeded. I 
 fear this may injure my father. I will 
 tell you frankly what I intended to do, 
 had I got home I should have attempted 
 to escape. I had the same project on 
 board the John Adams and Potomac. It 
 seemed to be a mania with me." 
 
 In reply to Spencer's question whether 
 the law would justify the commander in 
 taking life under such circumstances, Cap- 
 tain Mackenzie assured him that it would; 
 that he had consuHea all his brother offi- 
 cers, his messmates included, except the 
 boys, and their opinion had been placed 
 before him. He stated that it was just, 
 and that he deserved death. He asked 
 what was to be the manner of his death. 
 Captain Mackenzie explained it to him. 
 He objected to it, and asked to be shot. 
 He was told that no distinction could be 
 made between him and those he had cor- 
 
 rupted. He admitted that this also was 
 just. He objected to the shortness of the 
 time for preparation, and asked for an 
 hour. No answer was made to this 
 request; but he was not hurried, and 
 more than the hour which he asked for 
 was allowed to elapse. He requested that 
 his face might be covered ; this was read- 
 ily granted, and he was asked what it 
 should be covered with ; he did not care. 
 ' A handkerchief was sought for in his 
 locker ; none but a black one could be 
 found, and this was brought for the purpose. 
 It was now ordered that the other 
 criminals should be consulted as to their 
 wishes in this particular. They joined 
 in the request, and frocks were taken 
 from their bags to cover their heads. 
 Spencer asked to have his irons removed; 
 but this was not granted. He asked 
 for a bible and prayer-book; they were 
 brought, and others ordered to be fur- 
 nished to his accomplices. He then 
 said to Captain Mackenzie, "I am a be- 
 liever! Do you think that any repent- 
 ance at this late hour can be accepted ? " 
 In reply to this, the -captain called to 
 his recollection the case of the penitent 
 thief who was pardoned upon the cross. 
 He then read in the bible, kneeled down, 
 and read in the prayer-book. He again 
 asked the captain if he thought that 
 his repentance could be accepted, the 
 time being so short, and he did not know 
 if he was really changed. In answer to 
 this, he was told that God, who was all- 
 merciful as well as all-wise, could not only 
 understand the difficulties of the situ- 
 ation, but extend to him such a measure of 
 mercy as his necessities might require. 
 He said, " I beg your forgiveness for what 
 I have meditated against you." Captain 
 Mackenzie gave him his hand, and assured 
 him of his sincere forgiveness. 
 
 More than an hour was occupied in this 
 scene. The petty officers had been as- 
 signed, according to rank, to conduct the 
 several prisoners to the gang-way. At the 
 break of the quarter-deck was a narrow 
 passage between the trunk and pump-weiL 
 Spencer and Cromwell met exactly OK 
 
MUTINY ON I50AED THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 297 
 
 ^ ^ vi\ JC^^i 
 
 ^ANOiNtt OF ltLNGLKAl>Jfiiia i-'itOAt T11K 
 
 uither side. The captain directed 
 Cromwell to stop, to allow Spen- 
 cer to pass first. At this mo- 
 ment Spencer himself paused, 
 and asked to be allowed to see 
 Mr. Wales. He was called, and 
 Cromwell now passed on, almost 
 j touching Spencer. When Mr. 
 Wales came up, Spencer ex- 
 tended his hand to him and said, 
 " Mr. Wales, J earnestly hope 
 you will forgive me for tamper- 
 ing with your fidelity ! " Spen- 
 cer was wholly unmoved, Mr. 
 Wales almost overcome with emotion while he 
 replied, "I do forgive you from the bottom 
 of my heart, and I hope that God will forgive 
 you also!" "Farewell" exclaimed Spencer; 
 and Mr. Wales, weeping, and causing others 
 . to weep, responded " Farewell! " 
 
298 
 
 MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 Spencer now passed on. At the gang- 
 way he met Small. With the same calm 
 manner, but with a nearer approach to 
 emotion, he placed himself in front of 
 Small, extended his hand, and said, "Small, 
 forgive me for leading you into this 
 trouble." Small drew back with horror. 
 " No, by God ! Mr, Spencer, I can't for- 
 give you ! '' On a repetition of the re- 
 quest, Small exclaimed in a searching; 
 voice, " Ah, Mr. Spencer, that is a hard 
 thing for you to ask me ! We shall soon 
 be before the face of God, and then we 
 shall know all about it!" Captain Mac- 
 kenzie went to Small, urging him to be 
 more generous that this was no time for 
 resentment. He relented at once, held 
 out his hand to take the still extended 
 hand of Mr. Spencer, and said with frank- 
 ness and emotion, " I do forgive you, Mr. 
 Spencer ! May God Almighty forgive you 
 also ! " After some farewell words with 
 Captain Mackenzie, he said, turning to 
 those who held the ship, "Now, brother 
 topmates, give me a quick and easy death!" 
 He was placed on the hammocks forward 
 of the gangway, with his face inboard; 
 Spencer was similarly placed abaft the 
 gangway ; and Cromwell also on the other 
 side. 
 
 About this time, Spencer sent for Lieu- 
 tenant Gansevoort, and told him that he 
 might have heard that his courage had 
 been doubted ; he wished him to bear tes- 
 timony that he died like a brave man. He 
 then asked the captain, what was to be the 
 signal for execution ; the captain said, 
 that, being desirous to hoist the colors at 
 the, moment of execution, at once to give 
 solemnity to the act and to indicate by it 
 tha-. the colors of the Somers were fixed to 
 the mast-head, it was his intention to beat 
 to call as for hoisting the colors, then roll 
 off, and at the third roll fire a gun. Spen- 
 cer asked to be allowed himself to give the 
 vord to fire the gun; this request was 
 granted, and the drum and fife were dis- 
 missed. He asked if the gun was under 
 him, and was told that it was next but 
 one to him. He begged that no interval 
 might elapse between giving the word 
 
 and firing the gun. Captct.n Mackenzie 
 asked if they were firing with the lock anf 1 
 wafer, which had always proved quick anc 
 sure, but was told that they had a tube and 
 priming, and were "prepared to fire with a 
 match. Some delay would have ensued, 
 to open the arm chest and get out a wafer. 
 The captain ordered a suppty of live coals 
 to be passed up from the galley, and fresh 
 ones continually supplied ; then assured 
 Spencer there would be no delay. 
 
 Time still wearing away in this manner, 
 Small requested leave to address the crew. 
 Spencer, having leave to give the word, 
 was asked if he would consent to the 
 delay. He assented, and Small's face 
 being uncovered, he spoke as follows: 
 "Shipmates and topmates! take warning 
 by my example. I never was a pirate. I 
 never killed a man. It's for saying I 
 would do it, that I am about to depart this 
 life. See what a word will do ! It was 
 going in a Guineaman that brought me to 
 this. Beware of a Guineaman." He 
 turned to Spencer and said to him, " I am 
 now ready to die, Mr. Spencer, are you ? " 
 Cromwell's last words were, " Tell my wife 
 I die an innocent man ; tell Lieutenant 
 Morris I die an innocent man ! " It had 
 been the game of this leading conspirator 
 to appear innocent. 
 
 Captain Mackenzie now placed himself 
 on a trunk, in a situation from which his 
 eye could take in everything, and waited 
 for some time; but no word came. At 
 length, the captain was informed that 
 Spencer said he could not give the word 
 that he wished the commander to give the 
 word himself. The gun was accordingly 
 fired, and the execution took placet The 
 three conspirators against their country, 
 their flag, their comrades and mankind, 
 swung lifeless in the air, from the yard- 
 arm ; a fate richly deserved, at least by 
 him who had atrociously declared: "I am 
 leagued to get possession of the vessel, 
 murder the commander and officers, choose 
 from among those of the crew who are 
 willing to join me such as will be useful, 
 murder the rest, and commence pirating; 
 to attack no vessels that I am not sure to 
 
MUTINY ON BOARD THE BRIG SOMERS. 
 
 299 
 
 capture ; to destroy every vestige of the 
 captured vessels ; and to select such of the 
 female passengers as are suitable, and, 
 after using them sufficiently, to dispose of 
 them." 
 
 The crew were now ordered aft, and 
 were addressed by Captain Mackenzie, 
 from the trunk on which he was standing ; 
 after which, the crew were piped down 
 from witnessing punishment, and all hands 
 called to cheer the ship. Captain Mac- 
 kenzie himself gave the order " Stand by 
 to give three hearty cheers for the flag of 
 our country ! " Never were three heartier 
 cheers given. On the following Sunday, 
 after the laws for the government of the 
 navy had been read, as usual on the first 
 Sunday of the month, the ere, .vere again 
 impressively addressed by Captain Mac- 
 kenzie, and, in conclusion, he told them 
 that as they had shown that they could 
 give cheers for their country, they should 
 now give cheers to their God, for they 
 
 would do this when they sang praises to 
 his name. The colors were now hoisted, 
 and, above the American ensign, the only 
 banner to which it may give place, the 
 banner of the cross. And now, over the 
 vasty deep, there resounded that joyous 
 song of adoration, the hundredth psalm, 
 sung by all the officers and crew. 
 
 On the arrival home, of the Somers, the 
 tragedy was investigated by a court of 
 inquiry, consisting of Commodores Stewart, 
 Jacob Jones, and Dallas, and Captain 
 Mackenzie's course was fully approved. 
 A court-martial was also subsequently 
 held, at his personal request, of which 
 Commodore John Downes was president, 
 and the trial, which lasted forty days, 
 resulted in his acquittal. One of the 
 ablest reviews of this case, was that 
 by Mr. J. Fenimore Cooper, in whicft 
 Mackenzie's course was condemned ; but 
 the popular opinion was greatly in hi 
 favor. 
 
XXXVII. 
 
 SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT AND FIERY COMET 
 IN THE SKIES AT NOONDAY. 1843. 
 
 It Sweeps Through the Heavens, for Several Weeks, with a Luminous Train 108,000,000 Miles in 
 Length. Almost Grazes the Sun, and, after Whirling Around that Orb with Prodigious Velocity, 
 Approaches the Earth with a Fearful Momentum. Its Mysterious Disappearance in the Unknown 
 Realms and Depths of Space. Most Notable of all Comets. First Visible in the Day-time. Its 
 Conspicuous Aspect. Strange and Threatening Motion Its Course Towards the Sun. Their 
 Supposed Contact. Becomes Red in Passing. Recedes Straight to the Earth. Watched with 
 Deep Concern. The Magnetic Needle Agitated Wide Fears of a Collision. Its Probable Result. 
 Indian Terror and Prediction. Triumphs of Astronomy. Diameter of the Comet's Head. 
 Measurement of its Tail. Stars Seen Through the Train. Appearance in the Equator. Like a 
 Stream of Molten Fire. Beautiful Ocean Reflection. Double Sweep of the Tail. Other Comet- 
 ary Phenomena. 
 
 A pathlesi comet, 
 
 " A pathloHi comet, 
 
 The menace of the universe; 
 Btill rolling on with innate force, 
 Without a sphere, without a course.' 1 
 
 SUALLY, the name or word ' comet ' is applied to bodies which 
 appear in the heavens with a train, or tail, of light ; but it is 
 now not uncommon to apply the term to those heavenly bodies, 
 beyond the limits of the earth's atmosphere, which are nebulous 
 in their appearance, and with or without a tail. It is, however, 
 the class first named, which includes the most wonderful ex- 
 amples of this phenomenon in modern times ; and, in Connec- 
 tion with the splendid visitant of this kind that appeared in 1843, almost rivaling, as 
 it did, the splendor of the sun itself, some notice will be appropriate of similar bodies 
 which, during the last century, have excited wonder and admiration. 
 
 Without dwelling upon the appearance of those comets which antedate the year 
 1800, or upon the corruscatious, flickering and vanishing like northern lights, of the 
 comet of 1807, some mention may be made of that of 1811, the finest that, up to the 
 time of its appearance, had adorned the heavens since the age of Newton. It was 
 noted for its intense brilliancy, and was visible for more than three months in succes- 
 sion to the naked eye, shining with great splendor being, indeed, a comet of the 
 first class, in point of magnitude and luminosity. Its brilliant tail, at its greatest 
 elongation, had an extent of one hundred and twenty-three millions of miles, by a 
 breadth of fifteen millions ; and thus, supposing the nucleus of the comet to have been 
 placed on the sun, and the tail in the plane of the orbits of the planets, it would have 
 reached over those of Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and have bordered on that of 
 Mars. At its nearest approach to us, the comet was yet distant one hundred and forty- 
 one millions of miles, so that even had the tail pointed to the earth, its extremity 
 
SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT COMET. 
 
 301 
 
 would have been eighteen millions of miles 
 away from its surface. Its appearance 
 was strikingly ornamental to the evening 
 sky, and every eye waited and watched, 
 intently, to gaze upon the celestial novelty, 
 as it grew into distinctness with the de- 
 clining day. The elements of the orbit 
 of this comet were accurately computed by 
 Professors Bowditch, Farrar and Fisher. 
 
 The comet of 1843 is regarded as, per- 
 haps, the most marvelous of the present 
 age, having been observed in the day-time 
 even before it was visible at night, pass- 
 ing very near the sun,^-exhibiting an 
 enormous length of tail, and arousing an 
 interest in the public mind as universal 
 and deep as it was unprecedented. It 
 startled the world by its sudden appari- 
 tion in the spring, in the western 
 heavens, like a streak of aurora, streaming 
 from the region of the sun, below the 
 constellation of Orion. It was at first 
 mistaken, by multitudes, for the zodiacal 
 light ; but its aspects and movements soon 
 proved it to be a comet of the very largest 
 class. There were, too, some persons who, 
 without regarding it, like many of the 
 then numerous sect called Millerites, as 
 foretokening the speedy destruction of the 
 world, still could not gaze at it un- 
 troubled by a certain nameless feeling of 
 doubt and fear. 
 
 From the graphic narrative of a Euro- 
 pean traveling at that date in the wilds 
 of America, it appears that the Indians 
 around him viewed the comet of 1843 as 
 the precursor of pestilence and famine. 
 One of his companions, Tamanua, a young 
 Wapisiana, broke the silence with which 
 the whole party for some time stared at 
 the starry train of the ball of fire, with 
 the exclamation, " This is the Spirit of 
 the Stars, the dreadful Capishi -famine 
 and pestilence await us ! " The others 
 immediately burst into a torrent of vocif- 
 eration, lamenting the appearance of the 
 dreadful Capishi, and raising, with violent 
 gesticulations, their arms towards the 
 comet. This comet was visible in Bo- 
 logna, Italy, at noon, two diameters of the 
 sun's disc east of the sun, while passing 
 
 its perihelion, being then only ninety-six 
 thousand miles distant from that lumin- 
 ary, and its speed three hundred and sixty 
 six miles per second ; so that, in twelve 
 minutes, it must have passed over a space 
 equal to the distance between the earth 
 and the moon. When its distance from 
 the sun allowed it to be visible after sun- 
 set, it presented an appearance of extraor- 
 dinary magnificence. 
 
 But the appearance of this strange 
 body, as observed at different points, by 
 various scientific observers, has been made 
 a portion of the permanent scientific his- 
 tory of our country, by Professor Loomis, 
 of Yale college, to whose learned investi- 
 gations in this department of human 
 knowledge, more than one generation is 
 largely indebted. In his admirable paper 
 on this magnificent comet, he states that 
 it was seen in New England as early as 
 half-past seven in the morning, and con- 
 tinued till after three in the afternoon, 
 when the sky became considerably ob- 
 scured by clouds and haziness. The 
 appearance, at first, was that of a lumin- 
 ous globular body with a short train the 
 whole taken together being found by 
 measurement about one degree in length. 
 The head of the comet, as observed by the 
 naked eye, appeared circular ; its light, at 
 that time, equal to that of the moon at 
 midnight in a clear sky ; and its apparent 
 size about one-eighth the area of the full 
 moon. Som^ observers compared it to a 
 small cloud st/ongly illuminated by the 
 sun. The train was of a paler light, 
 gradually diverging from the nucleus, and 
 melting away into the brilliant sky. An 
 observer at Woodstock, Vt., viewed the 
 comet through a common three-feet tele- 
 scope, and found that it presented a dis- 
 tinct and most beautiful appearance, ex- 
 hibiting a very white and bright nucleus, 
 and showing a tail which divided near the 
 nucleus into two separate branches. 
 
 At Portland, Me., Captain Clark meas- 
 ured the distance of the nucleus from the 
 sun, the only measurement, with one ex- 
 ception, known to have been made in any 
 part of the globe before the third of 
 
302 
 
 SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GEE AT COMET. 
 
 March. He found that the distance of 
 the sun's farthest limb from the nearest 
 limb of the comet's nucleus, was four de- 
 grees, six minutes, fifteen seconds. At 
 Conception, in South America, Captain 
 Ray saw the comet on the twenty-seventh 
 of February, east of the sun, distant about 
 one-sixth of his diameter. The comet was 
 seen at Pernambuco, Brazil, and in Van 
 Dieman's Land, on the first of March. 
 On the second, it was seen in great bril- 
 liancy at St. Thomas, and by various 
 navigators in the equatorial regions. On 
 the evening of the third, it was noticed at 
 Key West, and excited much attention. 
 On the fourth, it was seen in the latitude 
 of New York by a few, and, on the even- 
 ing of the fifth, it was noticed very gen- 
 erally. 
 
 From this date, until about the close of 
 the month, it presented a most magnificent 
 spectacle every clear evening, in the ab- 
 sence of the moon. As seen near the 
 equator, the tail had a darkish line from 
 its head through the center to the end. 
 It was occasionally brilliant enough to 
 throw a strong light upon the sea. The 
 greatest length of tail, as seen there, was 
 about the fifth of March, sixty-nine de- 
 grees as measured with the sextant, and 
 it was observed to have considerable curv- 
 ature. One observer described it as an 
 elongated birch-rod, slightly curved, and 
 having a breadth of one degree. At the 
 Cape of Good Hope, March third, it was 
 described as a double tail, about twenty- 
 five degrees in length, the two streamers 
 making with each other an angle of about 
 a quarter of a degree, and proceeding from 
 the head in perfectly straight lines. In 
 the United States, the greatest length of 
 tail observed was about fifty degrees. 
 Professor Tuttle gives it, as seen through 
 the Cambridge telescope, at one hundred 
 and eighty millions of miles. The curva- 
 ture of the tail upward, though very 
 noticeable, scarcely exceeded two degrees. 
 The first observation of the nucleus, with 
 the exception of the noonday observations, 
 is believed to have been made at the Cape 
 of Good Hope, on the third of March, 
 
 after which it was observed regularly 
 until its disappearance. At Trevandrun, 
 in India, it was observed from the sixth ; 
 at Cambridge, Mass.; it was observed on 
 the ninth, and at numerous places on the 
 eleventh. The first European observation 
 of the nucleus was made on the seven- 
 teenth, at Rome and Naples. 
 
 The comet nowhere continued visible 
 many days in succession. It was seldom 
 seen in Europe after the first of April. 
 The last observation at Naples was on the 
 seventh. On the fifteenth, at Berlin, 
 Professor Encke thought he caught a 
 faint glimpse of the comet, but it could 
 not be found again on the subsequent 
 evening. At Washington, D. C., the 
 comet was observed on the morning of 
 March sixth. Mr. Maury says concerning 
 it, that his attention was called to a para- 
 graph in the newspapers of that date, 
 Monday, stating that a comet was visible 
 near the sun at mid-day with the naked 
 eye f The sky was clear; but not being 
 able to discover anything with the unas- 
 sisted eye, recourse was had to a telescope, 
 though with no better result. About 
 sunset in the evening, the examination 
 was renewed, but still to no purpose. The 
 last faint streak of day gilded the west, 
 beautiful and delicate fleeces of cloud cur- 
 tained the bed of the sun, the upper sky 
 was studded with stars, and all hopes of 
 seeing the comet that evening had van- 
 ished. Soon after the time for retiring, 
 however, the comet was observed in the 
 west, a phenomenon sublime and beauti- 
 ful. The needle was greatly agitated; 
 and a strongly marked pencil of light was 
 streaming up from the path of the sun in 
 an oblique direction to the southward and 
 eastward ; its edges were parallel. Stars 
 could be seen twinkling through it, and no 
 doubt was at first entertained, that this 
 was the tail of the comet. Direction was 
 given to search the eastern sky with the 
 telescope in the morning, from early dawn 
 and before, till sunrise; but nothing 
 strange or uncommon was noticed. Tues- 
 day was a beautiful day. The sun was 
 clear, gilding, as it sunk below the hills, 
 
SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT COMET. 
 
 303 
 
 a narrow streak of cloud, seen through the 
 tree-tops beyond the Potomac. The tail 
 had appeared of great length for the first 
 time the evening before ; and the observ- 
 ers expected, therefore, to find a much 
 greater length to it in the evening follow- 
 ing. It was a moment of intense inter- 
 est when the first stars began to appear. 
 The last rays of the sun still glittered in 
 the horizon ; and at this moment, a well 
 defined pencil of hairy light was seen 
 pointing towards the sun. Soon after six 
 o'clock it grew more distinct, and then 
 gradually faded away. 
 
 Professor Loomis states that the most 
 complete series of observations on this 
 comet of 1843, in this country, were made 
 by Messrs. Walker and Kendall of Phila- 
 delphia, where the comet was followed 
 until April tenth. A great many astron- 
 
 perihelion was prodigious. This was such 
 as, if continued, would have carried it 
 round the suii in two hours and a half ; 
 in fact, it did go more than half round the 
 sun in this time. In one day that is, 
 from twelve hours before, to twelve hours 
 after perihelion passage, it made two 
 hundred and ninety-one degrees of anom- 
 aly; in other words, it made more than 
 three-quarters of its circuit round the sun. 
 The head of this comet was exceedingly 
 small in comparison with its tail. When 
 first discovered, many were unwilling to 
 believe it a comet, because it had no head. 
 The head was probably nowhere seen by 
 the naked eye after the first days of March. 
 Al the close of March, the head was so 
 faint as to render observations somewhat 
 difficult even with a good telescope, while 
 the tail might still be followed by the 
 
 VIEW OF THE GREAT COMET WHEX NEAREST THE EARTH. 
 
 omers, however, computed the comet's 
 orbit, and obtained most extraordinary 
 results The comet receded from the sun 
 almost in a straight line, so that it required 
 careful observations to determine in which 
 direction the comet passed round the sun, 
 and some at first obtained a direct orbit, 
 when it should have been retrograde. The 
 perihelion distance that is, the least dis- 
 tance from the sun, was extremely small, 
 very little exceeding the sun's radius. 
 Some obtained a smaller quantity than 
 this, but such a supposition seems to in- 
 volve an impossibility. It is nevertheless 
 certain, that the comet almost grazed the 
 sun; perhaps some portion of its nebu- 
 losity may have come into direct collision 
 with it ! 
 
 The velocity with which the comet 
 whirled round the sun at the instant of 
 
 naked eye about thirty degrees. Bessel 
 remarked that this comet seemed to have 
 exhausted its head in the manufacture of 
 its tail. It is not, however, to be hence 
 inferred, that the tail was really brighter 
 than the head, only more conspicuous from 
 its greater size. A large object, though 
 faint, is much more noticeable than a 
 small one of intenser light. 
 
 The nearest approach of the comet's 
 head to the earth was about eighty mil- 
 lions of miles. The absolute diameter of 
 the nebulosity surrounding the head was 
 about thirty-six thousand miles. The 
 length of the tail was prodigious ; on the 
 twenty-eighth of February, it was thirty- 
 five millions of miles, and its greatest- 
 visible length was one hundred and eight 
 millions, namely, on the twenty-first of 
 March. Stars were easily distinguishable 
 
304 
 
 SUDDEN" APPEARANCE OF A GREAT COMET. 
 
SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT COMET. 
 
 305 
 
 through the luminous train. The visible 
 portion of the tail attained its greatest 
 length early in March, remained nearly 
 stationary for some time, and during the 
 first week in April suddenly disappeared, 
 from increased distance, without any great 
 diminution of length. The tail was 
 turned nearly toward the earth on the 
 night of February twenty-seventh, in such 
 a direction, that had it reached the earth's 
 orbit, it would have passed fifteen mil- 
 lions of miles south of us. 
 
 In regard to the extraordinary bril- 
 liancy of this comet, on the twenty-eighth 
 of February, it was the opinion of Profes- 
 sor Loomis and no one's opinion could 
 have greater authority or weight than 
 his, that this was due to the comet's 
 proximity to the sun. The day before, 
 it had almost grazed the sun's disc. The 
 heat it received, according to the computa- 
 tions of Sir John Herschel, must have 
 been forty-seven thousand times that re- 
 ceived by the earth from a vertical sun ! 
 The rays of the sun united in the focus 
 of a lens thirty-two inches in diameter, 
 and six feet eight inches focal length, have 
 melted carnelian, agate and rock crystal. 
 The heat to which the comet was sub- 
 jected must have exceeded by twenty-five 
 times that in the focus of such a lens. 
 Such a temperature would have converted 
 into vapor almost every substance on the 
 earth's surface ; and if anything retained 
 the solid form, it would be in a state of 
 intense ignition. The comet on the 
 twenty-eighth of February was red hot, 
 and, for some days after its perihelion, it 
 retained a peculiar fiery appearance. In 
 the equatorial regions, the tail is described 
 as resembling a stream, of fire from a fur- 
 nace,. 
 
 Such are some of the principal facts 
 concerning this most wonderful comet of 
 modern times, according to the investiga- 
 tions made by Loomis, also by Bond, 
 Walker, Mitchell, Joslin, Hitchcock, and 
 others,' and which is significantly and de- 
 servedly called "the Great Comet." 
 
 In 1847, another remarkable comet, 
 visible to the naked eye, made its appear- 
 20 
 
 ance in the constellation Andromeda. In 
 the early part of February, it shone as a 
 star of the fourth magnitude, with a tail 
 extending about four degrees from the 
 nucleus. The distance of the comet from 
 the sun's surface, on the evening of March 
 thirtieth, was only about three and a half 
 millions of miles. The cometic nebulosity 
 was about sixty-five thousand miles in 
 diameter, and that of the more condensed 
 central part, eight thousand miles. The 
 length of tail was far less than that of tha 
 comet of 1843. Of this comet, a full page 
 plate illustrates this article, showing, in a 
 peculiar manner, the supernal splendor 
 characterizing this mysterious order of the 
 heavenly bodies. 
 
 The comet of 1853 was clearly visible 
 to the naked eye, and had a well de- 
 fined nucleus and tail. On investigation, 
 astronomers failed to identify this comet 
 with any previous one. Its brilliant 
 nucleus and long train made it very con- 
 spicuous, indeed, one of the largest and 
 most beautiful on record. The actual 
 diameter of the bright nucleus was eight 
 thousand miles, or about equal to that of 
 the earth. Its nearest distance to the 
 earth at any one time was sixty-eight 
 millions of miles. 
 
 In September, 1858, Donati's celebrated 
 comet made its appearance, and was for 
 weeks a wonder in the skies, at which the 
 whole nation gazed with deep and intense 
 interest. The great astronomers, Loomis, 
 Peirce, George P. Bond, William C. Bond, 
 Tuttle, Norton, Hubbard, Safford, and 
 Gould, made learned observations of the 
 celestial visitor. The nucleus was very 
 brilliant, the tail prodigious. A star of 
 the first magnitude might have rivaled 
 the illumination of this comet, but noth- 
 ing less was worthy a comparison. The 
 tail had a curve like a scimitar; but its 
 end was shadowy, faint, tremulous, and 
 uncertain. The view from twilight until 
 deep dark, was magnificent. On the. 
 twentieth of October, the first of a series 
 of extraordinary phenomena manifested 
 itself in the region contiguous to the nu- 
 cleus. A crescent-shaped outline, obscure 
 
306 
 
 SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF A GREAT COMET. 
 
 and very narrow, was interspersed, like a 
 screen, between the nucleus and the sun ; 
 within this, instead of a softly-blended 
 nebulous light, indicative of an undis- 
 turbed condition of equilibrium, the fiery 
 mass was in a state of apparent commo- 
 tion, as though upheaved by the action of 
 violent internal forces. On the twenty- 
 third, two dark outlines were traced more 
 than half way round the nucleus, and on 
 the next evening still another. Other 
 envelopes were subsequently formed, their 
 motion of projection from the nucleus 
 being evident from night to night. The 
 rapidity of their formation, and the enor- 
 mous extent to which they were ultimately 
 expanded, constituted a remarkable feat- 
 ure, difficult of explanation. The comet 
 
 TELESCOPIC VIEW OF THE COMET. 
 
 was nearest to the sun fifty-five millions 
 of miles, September thirtieth ; nearest 
 to the earth fifty-two millions of miles, 
 October twelfth. Its tail was fifty-one 
 millions of miles in length. 
 
 So sudden was the apparition of the 
 splendid comet of 1861, that though observ- 
 ations made at Harvard college observa- 
 tory, June twenty-ninth, failed to detect it, 
 it was, on the succeeding evening, the most 
 conspicuous object in the western sky. On 
 
 the second of July, after twilight, the 
 head, to the naked eye, appeared much 
 brighter than a star of the first magni- 
 tude, about the same in brightness as 
 the great comet of 1858. The aspect of 
 the tail was that of a narrow, straight 
 ray, projected to a distance of one hun- 
 dred and six degrees from the nucleus, 
 being easily distinguishable quite up to 
 the borders of the milky way. The 
 boundaries, for the most part, were well 
 defined, and easily traced among the 
 stars. Further observations on the tail 
 made it evident that a diffuse, dim light, 
 with very uncertain outlines, apparently 
 composed of hazy filaments, swept off in 
 a strong curve towards the stars in the 
 tail of Ursa Major. This was evidently 
 a broad, curved tail, intersected on its 
 curved side at the distance of a few de- 
 grees from the nucleus or head, by the 
 long straight ray, which, at the first 
 glance, from its greatly superior bright- 
 ness, seemed alone to constitute the tail. 
 The whole issue of nebulous matter from 
 the nucleus far into the tail was curiously 
 grooved and striated. On the second of 
 July, portions of three luminous en- 
 velopes were visible. They rapidly faded, 
 or were lost in the surrounding haze, and 
 their places were filled by new ones. The 
 investigations of Messrs. Safford, Hall, 
 and Tuttle, show the diameter of the head 
 of this comet to have been variously esti- 
 mated at from one hundred and fifty to 
 three or four hundred miles. On the 
 second of July, the breadth of the head 
 of the nucleus was one hundred and fifty- 
 six thousand miles, and the length of the 
 tail about fifteen millions of miles. 
 
XXXVIII. 
 
 EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 1843. 
 
 Miller's Exciting Prediction of the Second Advent of Christ. The Speedy Fulfillment of the Latter- 
 Day Bible Prophecies Boldly Declared. Zealous Promulgation of His Views Scores of Thousands 
 of Converts. Public Feeling Intensely Wrought Upon. Preparations by Many for the Coming 
 Event. The Passing of the Time. Miller's Apology and Defense. His Deism in Early Life. 
 Studies History and Scripture. Is Struck by the Prophecies. Reads Daniel and John Critically. 
 Calculates Their Time. " About 1843 " the Consummation. Basis of these Conclusions. Reluc- 
 tantly Begins to Lecture. Interesting Incident. His Labors and Enthusiasm. Three Thousand Lec- 
 tures in Ten Years. Secret of His Great Success. Approach of the Final Day. Cessation of Secular 
 Pursuits. Encamping in the Fields, in Grave-yards and on Roofs Some Curious Extravagances. 
 Rebuked by Miller. Repeated Disappointments. Misinterpretation of Texts. Miller, as a Man 
 and Preacher. His Calm and Happy Death. 
 
 " 1 confess my error, and acknowledge my disappointment ; yet I still believe that the day of the Lord is near, even at the door." MIL- 
 'S FINAL WORDS TO HIS FOLLOWERS. 
 
 EW men havt! attained a wider 
 name or more rapid and remark- 
 able note, in the American relig- 
 ious world, than Rev. William 
 Miller, " the prophet," as he wa 
 familiarly called, founder of the 
 sect called hy his name, and also 
 known as "Second Adventists." 
 A sketch of the public career of 
 Mr. Miller, and of the biblical 
 grounds upon which he based his 
 earnest and confident prediction of 
 the end of the world about the 
 year 1843, together with some 
 account of tha extraordinary 
 scenes which characterized that 
 exciting period, participated in 
 
 THE GREAT DAY PROPHESIED BY THE SECOND ADVF.KTisTs. by tens of thousands of ardent and 
 enthusiastic believers in Mr. Miller's views, will be found in the following pages. 
 
 Mr. Miller was born in Pittsfield, Mass., in 1782, and, when he was four years of age, 
 his father removed to Low Hampton, in the state of New York. At the age of twenty- 
 two, he settled in Poultney, Vt., and was a deputy-sheriff for that county. Taking 
 
308 
 
 EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WOULD. 
 
 a military turn, he received from Governor 
 Galusha a lieutenant's commission, and, on 
 the breaking out of the second war with 
 England, he was made captain, by Presi- 
 ident Madison. He remained in the 
 United States army until the declaration 
 of peace, taking a courageous part in the 
 action at PJattsburg, where the British 
 were so sorely worsted. After the close of 
 the war, he returned to his home, where 
 for several years he held the office of a jus- 
 tice of the peace. 
 
 In the community where he lived, Mr. 
 Miller was regarded with much esteem, as 
 a benevolent, intelligent man, and a kind 
 neighbor. He had only a common school 
 education, but was a person of more than 
 ordinary talent. In his religious views, 
 Mr. Miller was an avowed deist, until 
 about his thirty-fourth year, when his 
 views and feelings experienced such a 
 change as led him to unite with the Bap- 
 tist church. For many years he was a 
 most assiduous student of history and the 
 scriptures, in the study of which he be- 
 came impressed with the conviction that 
 the fifth monarchy predicted by Daniel to 
 be given to the people of the saints of the 
 Most High, under the whole heaven, for 
 an everlasting possession, as represented 
 in the seventh chapter of that prophecy 
 was about to be consummated. 
 
 His views though he at no time claimed 
 to be, in any sense, a prophet, were sub- 
 stantially as follows : That Jesus Christ 
 will appear a second time in 1843, in the 
 clouds of heaven ; that he would then raise 
 the righteous dead, and judge them 
 together with the righteous living, who 
 would be caught up to meet him in the 
 air; that he would purify the earth with 
 fire, causing the wicked and all their 
 works to be consumed in the general con- 
 flagration, and would shut up their souls 
 in the place prepared for the devil and his 
 angels; that the saints would live and 
 reign with Christ, on the new earth, a thou- 
 sand years; that then Satan and the 
 wicked spirits would be let loose, and the 
 wicked dead be raised this being the 
 second resurrection, and, being judged, 
 
 should make war upon the saints, be 
 defeated, and cast down to hell forever. 
 
 It becoming known that he entertained 
 these views, he was importuned by many 
 to write out his opinions, and afterwards 
 to go before the public with them. After 
 declining so to do for a long time, he at 
 length complied, by writing a series of 
 articles, in 1831, in the Vermont Tele- 
 graph. In 1832, he sent forth a synopsis 
 of his views in a pamphlet, and subse- 
 quently, in obedience to conscientious con- 
 victions of duty, he commenced as a public 
 lecturer on prophecy. 
 
 He thus describes his reluctance to 
 appear in public, and the occasion of his 
 first attempt : "One Saturday, after break- 
 fast, in the summer of 1833, I sat down at 
 my desk to examine some point, and as I 
 arose to go out to work, it came home to 
 me with more force than ever, ' Go and tell 
 it to the world.' The impression was so 
 sudden, and came with such force, that I 
 settled down into my chair, saying, 'I 
 can't go, Lord.' ' Why not ? ' seemed to 
 be the response ; and then all my excuses 
 came up, my want of ability, etc. ; but my 
 distress became so great, I entered into a 
 solemn covenant with God, that, if he 
 would open the way, I would go and per- 
 form my duty to the world. ' What do 
 you mean by opening the way ? ' seemed 
 to come to me. ' Why,' said I, ' if I should 
 have an invitation to speak publicly in 
 any place, I will go and tell them what I 
 find in the Bible about the Lord's coming.' 
 Instantly all my burden was gone, and I 
 rejoiced that I should not probably be thus 
 called upon, for I had never had such an 
 invitation. My trials were not known, 
 and I had but little expectation of being 
 invited to any field of labor. In about 
 half an hour from this time, before I had 
 left the room, a son of Mr. Guilford, of 
 Dresden, about sixteen miles from my res- 
 idence, came in and said that his father 
 had sent for me, and wished me to go 
 home with him. Supposing that he wished 
 to see me on some business, I asked him 
 what he wanted. He replied, that there 
 was to be no preaching in their church the 
 
EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 309 
 
 next day, and his father wished to have 
 me come and talk to the people on the 
 subject of the Lord's coming. I was 
 immediately angry with myself for having 
 made the covenant I had; I rebelled at 
 once against the Lord, and determined 
 not to go. I left the boy, without giving 
 him any answer, and retired in great dis- 
 tress to a grove near by. There I strug- 
 gled with the Lord for about an hour, 
 endeavoring to release myself from the 
 covenant I had made with him, but could 
 get no relief. It was impressed upon my 
 
 at the close of a lecturing tour in the spring 
 of 1843, Mr. Miller remarks in his journal, 
 that, up to that time, he had given three 
 thousand two hundred lectures ! 
 
 An interesting reminiscence of Mr. 
 Miller's early career, is related by his 
 biographer as having occurred soon after 
 the publication of his views in pamphlet 
 form. As he was passing down the 
 Hudson river, in a steam-boat, e 3ompany 
 of men standing near him were conversing 
 respecting the wonderful improvements of 
 the day. One of them remarked, that it 
 
 8YMBOLICAL ILLUSTRATION'S OF THE SECOND ADVENT PROPHECIES. 
 
 conscience, ' Will you make a covenant 
 with God, and break it so soon ? ' and the 
 exceeding sinfulness of thus doing over- 
 whelmed me. I finally submitted ; and 
 promised the Lord that if he would sustain 
 me, I would go, trusting in him to give 
 me grace and ability to perform all he 
 should require of me. I returned to the 
 house, and found the boy still waiting ; he 
 remained till after dinner, and I returned 
 with him to Dresden." Such was the be- 
 ginning. And yet, ten years after, namely, 
 
 was impossible for things to progress, for 
 thirty years to come, in the same ratio that 
 they had done; "for," said he, "man will 
 attain to something more than human." 
 Mr. Miller replied to him, that it reminded 
 him of Dan. 12: 4, 'Many shall run to 
 and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.' 
 A pause ensuing, Mr. Miller continued, 
 and observed that the improvements of the 
 present day were just what we should 
 expect at this time, in the fulfillment of 
 Daniel's prophecy. He then commenced 
 
310 
 
 EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 with the eleventh chapter of Daniel, and, 
 comparing the prophecy with the history, 
 showed its fulfillment all listening with 
 close attention. He then remarked, that 
 he had not intended trespassing so long 
 on their patience, and, leaving them, 
 walked to the other end of the boat. The 
 entire company followed, and wished to 
 hear more on the subject. He then took 
 up the second, seventh, eighth and niath 
 chapters of Daniel. His hearers wished 
 to know if he had ever written on the sub- 
 ject. He told them he had published the 
 above pamphlet, and distributed among 
 them what copies he had with him. This 
 was one of his first audiences, and some 
 gentlemen of high standing listened to his 
 remarks. 
 
 In 1836, a volume of Mr. Miller's lec- 
 tures was published and widely circulated. 
 Early in 1838, * copy of these lectures fell 
 into the hands of Rev. J. Litch, a talented 
 minister of the Methodist Episcopal 
 church, who soon after published a pam- 
 phlet entitled the Midnight Cry, proclaim- 
 ing the second coming of Christ about the 
 year 1843. He also commenced preaching 
 the same doctrine, with great success, and 
 published several works of marked ability. 
 Another prominent receiver of the doctrine 
 was Rev. J. V. Himes, an accomplished 
 preacher of the Christian Connection, and 
 whose writings on the newly promulgated 
 views evinced much power of reasoning 
 and scholarly research. 
 
 The volume of lectures by Mr. Miller 
 had a large circulation, as did also the 
 publication called the Signs of the Times. 
 In October, 1840, the first general confer- 
 ence of Second Advent believers was held 
 in Chardon street chapel, Boston. During 
 the winter of 1841 1842, conferences 
 were numerous throughout New England, 
 and, in 1842, the standard was raised in 
 the city of New York, by a series of meet- 
 ings in Apollo hall, Broadway, held by 
 Messrs. Miller and Himes. During the 
 summer of that year, public excitement 
 greatly increased, and multitudes of preach- 
 ers and speakers were in the field. Finally, 
 a large tent was constructed, capable of 
 
 holding four thousand persons, in which 
 meetings were held at Concord, Albany, 
 Springfield, Newark, and other places. 
 The work spread with a power unparal- 
 leled in the history of religious move- 
 ments ; and this, notwithstanding the ridi- 
 cule and other weapons of opposition 
 wielded against it by almost all the lead- 
 ing religious and secular journalists in the 
 principal cities, whose influence was very 
 great. Perhaps the simple secret of Mr. 
 Miller's wonderful success, was his bring- 
 ing prominently forward a somewhat neg- 
 lected but vividly important truth. 
 
 The number of believers had now 
 reached scores of thousands. The basis of 
 their expectation relative to the speedy 
 dissolution of the world was, that, accord- 
 ing to the results of chronological research, 
 it appeared that the captivity of Manasseh, 
 the commencement of the " seven times," 
 or 2520 years of Leviticus xxvi., was 
 B. C. 677, also the captivity of Jehoia- 
 kim, the commencement of the Great 
 Jubilee, or 2450 years, was B. C. 607; 
 also the decree to rebuild Jerusalem in the 
 seventh of Artaxerxes, the commencement 
 of the seventy weeks and 2300 days of 
 Daniel vin. and ix., was given B. C. 
 457 ; and also the taking away of pagan- 
 ism in Rome, the commencement of the 
 1335 days of Daniel xn. Reckoning from 
 these several dates, it was believed that the 
 respective periods could extend only to 
 about the Jewish year 1843. 
 
 Thus, all the calculations of prophetic 
 time were understood by the Second Ad- 
 ventists to end in 1843. But what par- 
 ticular time, in that year, was a matter of 
 uncertainty. Some supposed one day or 
 season, some another. It was Mr. Miller's 
 opinion, that the seventy weeks ended 
 with the crucifixion, in A. D. 33 ; conse- 
 quently, that the whole time would end 
 with its anniversary, in 1843. Still, he was 
 not satisfied as to the exactness of the cal- 
 culation, and hence, from the outset, 
 expressed himself, "about 1843;" indeed, 
 in the year 1839, he remarked that he was 
 not positive that the event would trans- 
 pire in the spring of 1843 he should 
 
EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 311 
 
 claim the whole of the Jewish year, until 
 March 21, 1844. 
 
 But, in opposition to the views thus held 
 by Mr. Miller and his able co-laborers, 
 Himes, Litch, and other commentators, a 
 host of learned writers appeared, including 
 representatives of all the Christian denom- 
 inations though even among these, there 
 was no slight diversity of opinion as to the 
 scope and meaning of the prophecies, and, 
 in respect to the correctness of some of the 
 points held by Mr. Miller, no objections 
 were advanced. The usual strain of argu- 
 ment used by the opponents of Mr. Mil- 
 ler's rendering of the scriptures was as 
 follows : That the Lord cannot come until 
 after the millennium, during which the 
 whole world is to be righteous, and the 
 lion eat straw like the ox, etc. ; that the 
 Jews must be brought in, and restored to 
 Palestine, before that day comes ; that it 
 is to come as a thief in the night sudden, 
 unanticipated, unlocked for ; that the 
 world and the human race being as yet in 
 their infancy, so far as moral and material 
 development is concerned, it could not be 
 reasonably expected that the Lord would 
 come to destroy the world. 
 
 But the great opposing argument 
 brought to bear against the new views, 
 was, that the vision in the eighth chapter 
 of Daniel, has nothing to do with the 
 coming of Christ, or setting up of God's 
 everlasting kingdom ; that Antiochus 
 Epiphanes, a Syrian king, is the hero 
 of Daniel's vision, in the eighth chapter, 
 and that the 2300 days are but half days, 
 amounting to 1150 literal days, all of 
 which were literally fulfilled by Antiochus, 
 his persecution of the Jews, and dese- 
 cration of the temple, about one hundred 
 and sixty years B. C. 
 
 The earliest date fixed upon by any of 
 the Adventists as a probable time for the 
 Lord's coming (as stated by Mr. Litch, 
 one of the ablest and most reliable author- 
 ities), was February tenth, forty-five years 
 from the time the French army took Rome, 
 in 1798. The next point, and the one 
 which was thought the more probable, was 
 February fifteenth, the anniversary of the 
 
 abolition of the papal government, and the 
 erection of the Roman Republic. Viewing 
 this to be the termination of the 1290 
 days of Daniel xn. 11, they believed 
 forty-five years more would terminate the 
 1335 days of verse 12. Accordingly, 
 expectation with many was on tiptoe, fully 
 believing that the great day of the Lord 
 would then break upon the world. But 
 both those periods came and passed with 
 no unusual occurrence. At this result, 
 much thoughtless ridicule was indulged in 
 by some of the newspaper press, and exag- 
 gerated accounts given of the believers in 
 the doctrine waiting in their white ascen- 
 sion robes to be caught up in the air, or 
 going to the tops of the houses, or into the 
 grave-yards, to watch. Very few, however, 
 were so much shaken by their disappoint- 
 ment in the passing of the time, as to go 
 back and give up the doctrine. Their 
 confidence, as well as their religious sin- 
 cerity, was beyond suspicion. 
 
 The fifteenth of February passed, the 
 next epoch which presented itself as a 
 leading point of time, was the Passover, 
 the season of the year when the crucifix- 
 ion took place. This was looked upon by 
 many as being a strongly marked era, on 
 account of its being the occasion when 
 God delivered his people from Egypt, four 
 hundred and thirty years from Abraham's 
 sojourn and, because on that feast the 
 crucifixion took place. This latter event, 
 according to the belief of many, ended the 
 seventy weeks of Daniel ix. 24. Hence, 
 they argued, the 2300 days would termi- 
 nate when the same feast arrived in 1843, 
 and the Savior would come. The four- 
 teenth of April, therefore, was a point of 
 time anticipated with the deepest solici- 
 tude by many. They had the fullest con- 
 fidence that it would not pass without 
 bringing the expected crisis. Others, 
 again, looked forward to the season of the 
 Ascension, or Feast of Pentecost, as being 
 the most likely time for the advent. But 
 disappointment attended these, as it had 
 previous, expectations. Still, the zeal of 
 the disciples did not fail them ; and, at the 
 east, west, and south, the same enthusiasm 
 
312 
 
 EXPECTED DESTBUCTION OF THE WOPtLD. 
 
 was manifested by the promulgators of the 
 doctrine that " the end of all things is at 
 hand." 
 
 As already stated, Mr. Miller's expecta- 
 tions as to the time of the fulfillment of 
 the prophetic periods, extended to the 
 close of the Jewish year 1843, which would 
 be March twenty-first, 1844 ; and, on fur- 
 ther reflection, gave considerable weight 
 to the consideration that the tenth day of 
 the seventh month of the current Jewish 
 year, which, following the reckoning of the 
 Caraite Jews, fell on the twenty-second of 
 October, was the probable termination of 
 several prophetic periods, and, therefore, 
 would very likely usher in the great and 
 last day. Thus it was, that, on the sixth 
 of October, he wrote : " If Christ does not 
 come within twenty or twenty-jive days, I 
 shall feel twice the disappointment I did 
 in the spring." With great unanimity, as 
 well as honestly and heartily, was this 
 view accepted by his followers. Indeed, 
 the feeling was everywhere intense, among 
 them. For some days preceding the time 
 designated, their secular business was, for 
 the most part, suspended ; and those who 
 looked for the advent, gave themselves to 
 the work of preparation for that event, as 
 they would for death, were they on a bed 
 of sickness. 
 
 In regard to the extravagances charac- 
 terizing this movement, the published 
 accounts are declared by the friends of 
 Mr. Miller to have been, for the most part, 
 gross misstatements, and that hundreds of 
 reports relating to excesses, had no found- 
 ation in fact. Even so generally fair and 
 discriminating a writer as Sir Charles 
 Lyell, who was traveling in America 
 while the advent excitement was at its 
 height, states that several houses were 
 pointed out to him, between Plymouth 
 (Massachusetts) and Boston, the owners 
 of which had been reduced from ease to 
 poverty by their credulity, having sold 
 their all toward building the Tabernacle, 
 in which they were to pray incessantly for 
 six weeks previous to their ascension. 
 Among other stories, also, industriously 
 circulated, was that of a young girl who, 
 
 having no money, was induced to sell her 
 necklace, which had been presented her 
 by her betrothed. The jeweler, seeing 
 that she was much affected at parting with 
 her treasure, and discovering the circum- 
 stances and object of the sale, showed her 
 some silver forks and spoons, on which he 
 was about to engrave the initials of the 
 very minister whose dupe she was, and 
 those of the lady he was about to marry on 
 a fixed day after the fated twenty-second 
 of October. 
 
 While traveling in New Hampshire, 
 Lyell states that he was told by a farmer 
 in one of the country villages, that, in the 
 course of the preceding autumn, many of 
 his neighbors would neither reap their 
 harvest of corn and potatoes, nor let others 
 take in the crop, saying it was tempting 
 Providence to store up grain for a season 
 that could never arrive, the great catas- 
 trophe being so near at hand. He adds, 
 that in several townships in this and the 
 adjoining states, the local officers, or se- 
 lectmen, interfered, harvesting the crops 
 at the public expense, and requiring the 
 owners, after the twenty-third of October, 
 to repay them for the outlay. So bitter 
 was the opposition in some places, that 
 offensive missiles were thrown at the pub- 
 lic speakers, and their names coupled with 
 those of such impostors as Matthias, Gal- 
 laway, Folger, Orr, etc. 
 
 That irregularities of one kind and an- 
 other attended a religious movement so 
 wide-spread, intense and enthusiastic, as 
 this, is not to be wondered at ; but it is* 
 doubtless true that the majority of the 
 incidents thus circulated were the easy 
 inventions of opponents. The most nota- 
 able incident was that which occurred in 
 Philadelphia. In opposition to the earnest 
 expostulations of Mr. Litch and other 
 judicious and influential persons, a com- 
 pany of about one hundred and fifty, re- 
 sponding to the pretended " vision " of one 
 Georgas, on the twenty-first of October 
 went out on the Darby street road, about 
 four miles from Market street bridge, and 
 encamped in a field under two large tents, 
 provided with all needed comforts. The 
 
EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 313 
 
 next morning, their faith in the vision 
 having failed, all but about a dozen re- 
 turned to the city ; a few days later, the 
 others returned. This act met the em- 
 phatic disapproval of Mr. Miller, and of 
 the Adventists generally. 
 
 This day, too, the only specific day 
 which was regarded by the more intelligent 
 Adventists with any positiveness, also 
 passed, peaceful and quiet, as other days ; 
 as, likewise, did the time in September, 
 1847, which some fixed upon, on the ground 
 that chronologers differed three or four 
 years in the dates of this world's history. 
 In reviewing these facts and results ol the 
 past, Mr. Miller wrote : " Were I to live 
 my life over again, with the same evidence 
 that I then had, to be honest with God 
 and man I should have to do as I have 
 done. I confess my error, and acknowl- 
 edge my disappointment; yet I still be- 
 lieve that the day of the Lord is near, 
 even at the door." 
 
 The speedy coming of the Lord, and the 
 approaching end of all things, being so fre- 
 quently and explicitly declared in scripture, 
 it is no wonder that there should continue 
 to be found a body of believers making 
 that important truth, and the duties grow- 
 ing out of it, a primary point in their 
 religion. Though less numerous than 
 formerly, they are still to be found in con- 
 siderable numbers, with many earnest 
 preachers ; their chief organ has been the 
 Advent Herald, published in Boston, and 
 conducted with much decorum and ability. 
 
 It is not surprising that a man of Mr. 
 Miller's strong and ardent temperament, 
 should live and die in the same belief 
 which he had promulgated with- such evi- 
 dent sincerity ; for, while acknowledging, 
 as events proved, the want of accuracy in 
 his chronological calculations he still 
 claimed, to the end of his days, that the 
 nature and nearness of the crisis were sus- 
 tained by scriptural evidence. He died 
 a peaceful and happy death, at the age 
 of sixty-eight, in the year 1849, and an 
 admirably fair and well-written biography 
 of him, from the pen of Mr. Himes, ap- 
 peared soon after. 
 
 As a man, Mr. Miller is described as 
 strictly temperate in all his habits, 
 devoted in his family and social attach- 
 ments, and proverbial for his integrity. 
 He was naturally very amiable in his tem- 
 perament, affable and attentive to all, a 
 kind-heartedness, simplicity, and power, 
 peculiarly original, characterizing his 
 manner. He was of about medium stature, 
 a little corpulent; hair, a light glossy 
 brown; countenance full and round, with 
 a peculiar depth of expression in his blue 
 eye, of shrewdness and love. 
 
 As a preacher, Mr. Miller was generally 
 spoken of as convincing his hearers of his 
 sincerity, and instructing them by his 
 reasoning and information. All acknowl- 
 edge that his lectures were replete with 
 useful and interesting matter, showing a 
 knowledge of scripture very extensive and 
 minute that of the prophecies, especially, 
 being surprisingly familiar; and his ap- 
 plication of the great prophecies to the 
 great events which have taken place in the 
 moral and natural world, was, to say the 
 least, ingenious and plausible. There was 
 nothing very peculiar in his manner; his 
 gestures were easy and expressive; his 
 style decorous, simple, natural, and forci- 
 ble. He was always self-possessed and 
 ready; distinct in his utterance, and fre- 
 quently quaint in his observations ; in the 
 management of his subject, exhibiting 
 much tact, holding frequent colloquies with 
 the objector and inquirer, supplying the 
 questions and answers himself in a very 
 
314 
 
 EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 apposite manner, and, although grave him- 
 self, sometimes producing a smile upon 
 the faces of his auditors. Much blame 
 was cast upon Mr. Miller, by some of his 
 opponents, for not contenting himself with 
 a quiet and unostentatious avowal of his 
 views, instead of traveling over the whole 
 country, and inaugurating the "noisy and 
 boisterous system of camp-meetings" in 
 connection with so solemn a theme. But, 
 that these camp-meetings did not partake 
 of the obnoxious qualities thus charged, 
 will appear from one example at least, 
 by the following account, written by John 
 G. Whittier, one of the most enlightened 
 and impartial of observers : 
 
 On my way eastward (says Mr. Whittier), 
 I spent an hour or two at a camp-ground of 
 the Second Advent in East Kingston (N. 
 H.) The spot was well chosen. A tall 
 growth of pine and hemlock threw its mel- 
 ancholy shadow over the multitude, who 
 were arranged on rough seats of boards and 
 logs. Several hundred perhaps a thou- 
 sand people were present, and more were 
 rapidly coming. Drawn about in a circle, 
 forming a background of snowy whiteness 
 to the dark masses of men and foliage, 
 were the white tents, and back of them the 
 provision stalls and cook shops. When 
 I reached the ground, a hymn, the words 
 of which I could not distinguish, was peal- 
 ing through the dim aisles of the forest. I 
 know nothing of music, having neither ear 
 nor taste for it but I could readily see 
 that it had its effect upon the multitude 
 before me, kindling to higher intensity 
 their already excited enthusiasm. The 
 preachers were placed in a rude pulpit of 
 
 rough boards, carpeted only by the dead 
 forest leaves, and flowers, andtasseled, not 
 with silk and velvet, but with the green 
 boughs of the somber hemlocks around it. 
 One of them followed the music in an earn- 
 est exhortation on the duty of preparing for 
 the great event. Occasionally, he was really 
 eloquent, and his description of the last day 
 had all the terrible distinctness of Anellis's 
 painting of the ' End of the World.' 
 
 Suspended from the front of the rude 
 pulpit were two broad sheets of canvas, 
 upon one of which was the figure of a 
 man, the head of gold, the breast and 
 arms of silver, the belly of brass, the legs 
 of iron, and feet of clay, the dream of 
 Nebuchadnezzar ! On the other were 
 depicted the wonders of the Apocalyptic 
 vision the beasts the dragons the scar- 
 let woman seen by the seer of Pattnos - 
 oriental types and figures and mystic 
 symbols translated into staring Yankee 
 realities, and exhibited like the beasts of a 
 traveling menagerie. One horrible image, 
 with its hideous heads and scaly caudal 
 extremity, reminded me of the tremendous 
 line of Milton, who, in speaking of the same 
 evil dragon, describes him as "Swinge- 
 ing the scaly horrors of his folded tail." 
 To an imaginative mind the scene was 
 full of novel interest. The white circle of 
 tents the dim wood arches the upturned, 
 earnest faces the loud voices of the 
 speakers, burdened with the awful sym- 
 bolic language of the Bible the smoke 
 from the fires rising like incense from 
 forest altars, carried one back to the days 
 of primitive worship, when "The groves 
 were God's first temples." 
 
XXXIX. 
 
 AWFUL EXPLOSION OF COMMODORE STOCKTON'S 
 
 GREAT GUN, THE "PEACEMAKER," ON BOARD 
 
 THE U. S. STEAMSHIP PRINCETON. 1844. 
 
 The Secretaries of State and of the Navy, and Other Eminent Persons, Instantly Killed. Miraculous 
 Escape of the President. Sudden Transition from the Height of Human Enjoyment to the Extreme 
 of Woe. Stockton's High Enthusiasm. His Vast and Beautiful Ship. Her Model and Armament. 
 Styled the Pride of the Navy. Invitations for a Grand Gala Day. President Tyler Attends. 
 Countless Dignitaries on Board. Array of Female Beauty. Music, Toasts, Wit and Wine. Firing 
 of the Monster Gun. Its Perfect Success. " One More Shot ! " by Request. A Stunning and Mur- 
 derous Blast. Bursting of the Gun. Death all Around. Frightful Shrieks and Groans. Scattering 
 of Mangled Remains. Agony of Woman's Heart. Standing Place of the President. Absent Just 
 One Moment. The Dead in Union Flags. Funeral at the White House. 
 
 " My tongue would fail me to exprets, and my pen to portray, the agonizing heart-throes the mingled wailing! and frenzy of that 
 awful hour." PKKSIDEHT TTLBB. 
 
 | ARELY is there found in the pages of a hun- 
 dred years' history, the record of a 
 more awful catastrophe shocking, 
 indeed, in all its circumstances, 
 concomitants, and results than 
 that which occurred on board the 
 ship Princeton, Commodore Stock- 
 ton, on the afternoon of February 
 twenty-eighth, 1844, whilst under 
 way, on the river Potomac, some 
 fifteen miles below Washington. 
 This war steamer had just been 
 constructed in the city of Phila- 
 delphia, according to improved plans enthusiastically advocated by Captain Stockton, 
 who had also superintended the casting of the guns on a new principle and of prodig- 
 ious size and power constituting the steamship's armament. It was principally to 
 exhibit the superiority of these new and formidable weapons of war, in the preparation 
 of which Stockton had so long been engaged, and of the perfection of which he had, by 
 repeated tests and experiments, thoroughly satisfied himself, that he issued cards of 
 invitation to a large and brilliant company, of both sexes, to visit the magnificent ship 
 and go on an excursion down the river. He had on successive days, previously, extended 
 this courtesy to various congressional committees and other officials, but this was to be 
 the gala day on the decks of the most stupendous and beautiful ship ever beheld on the 
 waters of the Potomac. 
 
 STOCKTON'S GREAT otru, THE " PEACEMAKER." 
 
SIB 
 
 EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 Little did any one among that gay and 
 splendid throng anticipate a sudden trans- 
 ition from the height of human enjoy- 
 ment to the extreme of wailing, anguish, 
 and death ! 
 
 The day was remarkably fine, the sun 
 rising clear and bright, and Washington 
 from early in the morning presented a gay 
 and busy scene. Nearly all the carriages 
 were engaged, and freighted with the love- 
 liness, beauty and grace of the city. 
 About eleven o'clock in the forenoon, Mr. 
 Tyler, the president of the United States, 
 as chief guest, Mrs. Robert Tyler, Miss 
 Cjoper, Mr. John Tyler, Jr., all from the 
 
 executive mansion, with a large number 
 of officers in glittering uniforms, all the 
 members of the cabinet except Mr. Spen- 
 cer, many other high functionaries of state, 
 senators and representatives, quite a num- 
 ber of attaches and secretaries of lega- 
 tion, General Allmonte, minister from 
 Mexico (Sir Richard Packenham had been 
 invited, but declined,) and others, to the 
 number of some four hundred, were assem- 
 bled on the deck of one of the steamers 
 plying between Washington and Alexan- 
 dria, fast bearing down for the latter place. 
 Opposite the navy yard, a boat load of 
 musicians were taken on board, who, as 
 the company approached Alexandria, and 
 the Princeton hove in sight, struck up 
 'Hail Columbia,' while the convoy was 
 describing a graceful curve under the bow 
 
 of the splendid war steamer, to view her 
 in all her pride of architectural model, 
 the flags of every nation streaming in the 
 brightness of the meridian sun from every 
 mast, and her yards manned to return the 
 cheers that were uttered by the happy 
 guests as they neared her side. 
 
 They now approached the Princeton on 
 her larboard side, and came quite close to 
 her. A bridge was soon made from the 
 hurricane deck to the great steamship, and 
 the ladies and gentlemen received by the 
 officers on deck, and conducted to Captain 
 Stockton, who was in full uniform. The 
 band now struck up the ' Star Spangled 
 Banner,' the marines presented arms, and 
 as soon as the company were on board, a 
 salute of twenty-one guns was fired, the 
 band still playing national airs; and it 
 was quite amusing to see how many ladies 
 remained on deck to witness the naval 
 maneuvers and evolutions, although they 
 had been politely requested to step down, 
 so as not to be annoyed by the smell of the 
 powder, or the noise of the report. Sump- 
 tuous, too, was the banquet spread before 
 this gay and brilliant company. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the Princeton hove 
 anchor and made sail, bearing down for 
 Fort Washington and Mount Vernon her 
 sailing qualities being admired by all. 
 Past Fort Washington, where the Potomac 
 expands, presenting sufficient scope for 
 the power of the Princeton's big guns, the 
 forward gun was shotted and fired, the 
 ball striking the water and rebounding 
 five or six times, till the eye could no 
 longer follow its progress. An eye-witnesa 
 of this experiment a newspaper corre- 
 spondent states, that, in order to observe 
 the effect of the shot, he posted himself on 
 the nearest larboard cannonade gun, and, 
 by the side of this, a kind of scaffolding 
 had been erected by the sailors, for the 
 ladies to stand on. One or two ladies had 
 taken their position there, and, close by, 
 stood Mr. Secretary Upshur, intent upon 
 witnessing the whole scene. The corre- 
 spondent offered his place to the secretary, 
 but the latter declined, saying he preferred 
 to stand where he was the precise sot 
 
EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 317 
 
 where, an hour afterward, he was torn to 
 pieces. 
 
 Captain Stockton's great gun called 
 ironically "the Peacemaker" was now 
 again loaded with shot, and another trial 
 made of its strength and efficiency. The 
 gun was pointed to leeward, and behind it 
 stood Captain Stockton ; a little to the left 
 of him, Mr. J. Washington Tyson, assist- 
 ant postmaster-general. By the side of 
 the latter, a little behind him, stood Mr. 
 Strickland, of Philadelphia ; and a little to 
 the right of, but behind him, Colonel 
 Benton, of Missouri, who had a lady at his 
 arm ; and Judge S. S. Phelps, senator 
 from Vermont. To the leeward of the gun 
 stood Judge Upshur, the secretary of 
 state ; also Governor Gilmer, the secretary 
 of the navy, who had but a few days previ- 
 ously entered on the duties of his office ; 
 and, a short distance behind them, the late 
 charge d'affaires to Belgium, Mr. Maxey, 
 of Maryland. By the side of him stood 
 Hon. Mr. Gardiner, of New York, and 
 Commodore Kennon, chief of one of the 
 navy bureaus. 
 
 On firing the gun, a murderous blast 
 succeeded the whole ship shook and 
 reeled and a dense cloud of smoke envel- 
 oped the whole group on the forecastle ; 
 but when this blew away, an awful and 
 heart-rending scene presented itself to the 
 view of the hushed and agonizing specta- 
 tors. The gun had burst, at a point three 
 or four feet from the breech, and scattered 
 death and desolation ill around. 
 
 The lower part of (lie gun, from the 
 trunnions to the bree\,h, was blown off, 
 and one-half section of it lying upon the 
 breast of the newspaper correspondent ; it 
 took two sailors to remove it. Secretary 
 Upshur was badly cut over the eye and in 
 his legs, his clothes being literally torn 
 from his body ; he expired in a very few 
 minutes. Governor Gilmer, of Virginia, 
 under whose official directions, as secre- 
 tarjr of the navy, the power of this great 
 gun was tested, was found equally badly 
 injured ; he had evidently been struck by 
 the section of the gun before it had 
 reached Mr. Upshur. Mr. Sykes, member 
 
 of congress from New Jersey, endeavored 
 to raise him from the ground, but was 
 unable. A mattress was then procured, 
 and Mr. Gilmer placed on it ; but before 
 any medical assistance could be procured, 
 he was not among the living. 
 
 Mr. Maxey had his arms and one of his 
 legs cut off, the pieces of flesh hanging to 
 the mutilated limbs, cold and bloodless, 
 in a manner truly frightful. Mr. Gardi- 
 ner, of New York (one of whose daugh- 
 ters subsequently became the wife of Pres- 
 ident Tyler), and Commodore Kennon, 
 lingered about half an hour ; but they did 
 not seem for a single moment to be con- 
 scious of their fate, and expired almost 
 without a groan. The flags of the Union 
 were placed over the dead bodies, as their 
 winding-sheets. 
 
 Behind the gun, the scene, though at 
 first equally distressing, was less alarming. 
 Captain Stockton, who was knocked down 
 and somewhat injured, almost instantly 
 rose to his feet, and, mounting upon the 
 wooden carriage, quickly and anxiously 
 surveyed the whole effect of the calamity. 
 All the hair of his head and face was 
 burnt off; and he stood calm and undis- 
 mayed, but deeply conscious, over the 
 frightful wreck. Shrieks of woe were 
 heard from every quarter death and deso- 
 lation, blood and mangled remains, were 
 all around. In addition to the deaths 
 already mentioned, about a dozen sailors 
 were badly wounded ; one was dead, and, 
 behind him, Colonel Benton, Judge 
 Phelps, and Mr. Strickland, as if dead, 
 were extended on the deck. On that side, 
 by a singular concatenation of circum- 
 stances, Mr. Tyson, of Philadelphia, was 
 the only person who stood his ground, 
 though a piece of the gun, weighing about 
 two pounds, had passed through his hat, 
 about two inches from his skull, and fallen 
 down by the side of him. A servant of 
 the president, a colored lad of about fifteen 
 years of age, was amongst the slain. Pres- 
 ident Tyler himself was saved only by the 
 merest accident having been temporarily 
 called back from where he stood, just a 
 moment before ! 
 
318 
 
 EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER 
 
 Judge Phelps, of Vermont, had his hat 
 blown or knocked off, and the buttons of 
 his coat torn off. Mr. Strickland, of Phil- 
 adelphia, immediately recovered his posi- 
 tion. Miss Woodbury and Miss Cooper, 
 who, in company of Captain Heed, of the 
 army, and Mr. Welles, of Philadelphia, 
 had been standing on a leeward gun, were 
 not hurt ; but the first-named lady the 
 beautiful and accomplished daughter of 
 Senator Woodbury, of New Hampshire, 
 had her whole face sprinkled with blood, 
 from one of the unfortunate killed or 
 wounded. Judge Wilkins was only saved 
 by a rollicking bit of witticism of his. 
 
 He had taken his stand by the side of his 
 colleague in office, Secretary Gilmer, but 
 some remarks falling from the lips of the 
 latter, and perceiving that the gun was 
 about to be fired, exclaimed, suiting his 
 action to the word 
 
 " Though secretary of war, I don't like 
 this firing, and believe that I shall run ! " 
 
 A most heart-rending scene was that 
 which transpired among some of the lady 
 guests. The two daughters of Mr. Gardi- 
 ner, of New York, were on board, and 
 were piteously lamenting the death of 
 their father ; while Mrs. Gilmer, from 
 whom the company had in vain attempted 
 to withhold, for a time, the dreadful news 
 of the death of her husband, presented 
 truly a spectacle fit to be depicted by a 
 tragedian. Her agony was doubtless 
 aggravated by a peculiar incident. It 
 
 appears that, while President Tyler and 
 family, and a large number of ladies and 
 gentlemen in the cabin, were in the act of 
 leaving the banquet-table, to proceed to 
 the deck, the movement was arrested 
 for a moment, by a gentleman announcing 
 that one of the ladies would give a toast, 
 and but for which it is probable most of 
 the party would have been exposed to the 
 deadly missiles. Some of the ladies, how- 
 ever, were upon deck, and near enough to 
 be dashed with the blood and mangled 
 remains of the victims. One of those 
 ladies was the wife of Secretary Gilmer, 
 and it was at her husband's special request, 
 that the gun on this occasion was fired, 
 in order that he might observe its quality 
 in some peculiar way. This gun was the 
 one called the 'Peacemaker;' the other, 
 of the same size on board, was called the 
 'Oregon.' 
 
 Mr. Seaton, mayor of the city of Wash- 
 ington, was one of the company, having 
 been invited by Mr. Gilmer, and would 
 have accompanied him to the deck to 
 witness the firing, but for a difficulty in 
 finding his cloak and hat at the moment. 
 A lady, standing upon the deck between 
 two gentlemen, one of whom had his hat, 
 and the other the breast of his coat taken 
 off, escaped unhurt. The secretary of 
 state, Mr. Upshur, left a wife and daugh- 
 ter, to mourn his untimely death ; Secre- 
 tary Gilmer, a wife and eight children 
 the eldest but fifteen. Commodore Kennon 
 left a young wife, and children by his first 
 wife. Mr. Maxey also left a wife and 
 children ; and Colonel Gardiner two accom- 
 plished daughters, leading belles in the 
 society of the metropolis. The only cir- 
 cumstance calculated to relieve the all-per- 
 vading distress, was, that of the multitude 
 of ladies who were on board the ship, not 
 one was materially injured. 
 
 As illustrating the effect of such a phe- 
 nomenon, upon those who were near 
 enough to have their sensations and emo- 
 tions wrought upon to the highest degree, 
 without actual injury to their persons, the 
 experience of Senator Benton certainly 
 one of the strongest-minded of men is an 
 
EXPLOSION 1 OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 319 
 
 EXPLOSION OF THE GREAT GCS ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES STEAMSHIP PRINCETON. 
 
 interesting case in point. In that sena- 
 tor's account of the occurrence, he says, 
 among other things : ' Lieutenant Hunt 
 caused the gun to be worked, to show the 
 ease and precision with which her direc- 
 tion could be changed, and then pointed 
 down the river to make the fire himself 
 and the gunners standing near the breech 
 on the right. I opened my mouth wide to 
 receive the concussion on the inside as well 
 as on the outside of the head and ears, so 
 as to lessen the force of the external 
 shock. I saw the hammer pulled back 
 
 heard a tap saw a flash felt a blast in 
 the face, and knew that my hat was gone ; 
 and that was the last that I knew of the 
 world, or of myself, for a time, of which I 
 can give any account. The first that I 
 knew of myself, or of anything afterwards, 
 was rising up at the breech of the gun, 
 seeing the gun itself split open, two 
 seamen, the blood oozing from their ears 
 and nostrils, rising and reeling near me 
 Commodore Stockton, hat gone, and face 
 blackened, standing bolt upright, staring 
 fixedly upon the shattered gun. I had heard 
 
320 
 
 EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 no noise no more than the dead. I only 
 knew that the gun had burst from seeing 
 its fragments. I had gone through the 
 experience of a sudden death, as if from 
 lightning, which extinguishes knowledge 
 and sensation, and takes one out of the 
 world without thought or feeling. I think 
 I know what it is to die without knowing 
 it, and that such a death is nothing to 
 him that revives. The rapid and lucid 
 working of the mind to the instant of 
 extinction, is the marvel that still aston- 
 ishes me. I heard the tap saw the flash, 
 felt the blast and knew nothing of the 
 explosion. I was cut off in that inappre- 
 ciable point of time which intervened 
 between the flash and the fire between 
 
 the burning of the powder in the touch- 
 hole, and the burning of it in the barrel of 
 the gun. No mind can seize that point of 
 time, no thought can measure it ; yet to 
 me it was distinctly marked, divided life 
 from death the life that sees, and feels, 
 and knows, from death (for such it was for 
 the time), which annihilates self and the 
 world. And now is credible to me, or 
 rather comprehensible, what persons have 
 told me of the rapid and clear working of 
 the mind in sudden and dreadful catastro- 
 phes as in steam-boat explosions, and 
 being blown into the air and have the 
 events of their lives pass in review before 
 them, and even speculate upon the chances 
 of falling on the deck and being crushed, 
 
 or falling on the water and swimming: 
 and persons recovered from drowning, and 
 running their whole lives over in the inter- 
 val between losing hope and losing con- 
 sciousness.' This account, written by Mr. 
 Benton, several years after the occurrence, 
 shows the vivid impression made upon hie 
 mind. 
 
 Of similar interest was the experience 
 of Judge Phelps, senator from Vermont, 
 who was nearer to the gun than any other 
 guest, and who had at his side a young 
 lady, Miss Sommerville, from Maryland. 
 The judge was prostrated, his hat and the 
 lady's bonnet disappeared, her dress was 
 also torn, and the judge's apparel rent and 
 demolished. The lady's face was scorched, 
 and she stood like a statue, 
 unconscious. 'I took a 
 glance at the scene,' says 
 the judge, writing to a 
 friend, 'caught her round 
 the waist, and carried her 
 below. I witnessed a scene 
 there which I shall not at- 
 tempt to describe it was 
 one of agony, frenzy the 
 shrieks of a hundred fe- 
 males wives, daughters, 
 sisters the beauty, the 
 loveliness of the land. The 
 imploring appeals to know 
 the fate of the nearest and 
 dearest objects of their af- 
 fection can not be forgotten. ' Sir,' said 
 one, ' they will not tell me about my hus- 
 band.' I knew her not, but she was at that 
 moment a widow her husband was blown 
 to atoms ! You will hardly believe me 
 when I tell you I was calm collected. It 
 was no time for trepidation. I felt as if 
 introduced in the presence of my Maker. 
 The scene was unearthly ; every selfish 
 feeling vanished even my own life was of 
 no account. I was taken to the portals of 
 eternity, and felt that I was surveying 
 not the paltry interests of time and sense, 
 but man's eternal destiny. The first tear 
 which started in my eye fell upon the 
 few lines which conveyed to my beloved 
 and devoted wife the assurance that she 
 
EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 321 
 
 was not a widow, nor her children father- 
 less.' 
 
 The first hours after the appalling catas- 
 trophe were marked, as might be ex- 
 pected, by high excitement. Astonish- 
 ment, and a feeling of dismay, mingled 
 with intense and painful curiosity, seized 
 upon the entire community. All tongues 
 were busy in pressing or answering in- 
 quiries. Men rushed out of doors, crowded 
 the resorts of public intelligence, gathered 
 in knots about the streets, and with eager 
 countenances turned to every new-comer 
 for further information. 
 
 The next day, crowds poured down to 
 the wharf where the bodies were expected 
 to be landed, and, though long disap- 
 pointed, continued to wait, hour after 
 hour, till at length the minute-guns from 
 below announced the departure of the cof- 
 fins from on board the steamer, and the 
 commencement of their melancholy route 
 up to the city. 
 
 As the boat which bore them approached 
 her landing-place, the surrounding shores 
 were covered with spectators, while a long 
 line of carriages stood in waiting to follow 
 in the train which bore the remains of the 
 dead. Six hearses, in sad contiguity, stood 
 side by side, and received in succession 
 their mournful freight, as the coffins, 
 borne by seamen and followed each by an 
 escort of naval officers, were brought 
 along through an avenue of sympathizing 
 citizens, who opened to the right and 
 left to let them pass. Scores of carriages 
 followed to the presidential mansion, 
 whither the dead were carried by the 
 president's particular desire, and de- 
 posited in the East room. That vast 
 apartment, so often the scene of brilliant 
 festivity so often echoing the strains of 
 joyous music and the mingled voices of the 
 gay was now converted, in the provi- 
 dence of God, into a sepulchral chamber, 
 cold, silent, and dark. 
 
 Saturday was fixed upon for the funeral 
 ceremonies, and the city was filled with 
 those who came to witness the solemn 
 rites and pomp of the occasion, the bustle 
 of business being hushed at an early hour. 
 21 
 
 Before the bodies were removed from the 
 executive mansion, religious services were 
 performed by Kev. Messrs. Hawley, 
 Laurie, and Butler. The funeral proces- 
 sion was then formed, and presented an 
 imposing coup d'ceil. Generals Scott and 
 Jones led the splendid military escort. 
 Among the distinguished pall-bearers 
 were Messrs. Archer, Morgan, Bolton, 
 Totten, Worth, Gibson, Aulick, Shubrick, 
 Crane, Towson, Kennedy, Hunt, Barnard, 
 Fish, Fendall, all departments of the 
 government, legislative, executive, judi- 
 cial, military and naval, being largely 
 represented in the vast and magnificent 
 procession. With these honors, accom- 
 panied by minute-guns and tolling bells, 
 the bodies were borne to the congressional 
 burying-ground, where the military halted, 
 and, forming in line in front of the gate, 
 received the hearses with martial salutes 
 and dirges. Minute-guns were fired from 
 the west terrace of the capitol grounds, 
 from the navy yard, and from other points, 
 as the cavalcade proceeded on its route ; 
 religious services were again performed, 
 on depositing the coifins in the receiving 
 vault ; after which, the military, as usual, 
 closed the solemn pageant of outward 
 ceremonial, by firing volleys in honor of 
 the lamented dead. 
 
 By direction of the president, Hon. 
 John Nelson became, ad interim, secretary 
 of state ; and Commodore Warrington, in 
 like manner, secretary of the navy ; in 
 place of Messrs. Upshur and Gilmer. 
 
 Concerning the great gun used on this oc- 
 casion, and of which Commodore Stockton 
 was the projector, it may be remarked that 
 it was manufactured in New York, and 
 was far superior in point of workmanship 
 to its companion, the ' Oregon,' which was 
 made' in England. The 'Peacemaker' 
 was placed in the bow of the ship, on a 
 revolving carriage, so that it might be 
 fired from either side. An ordinary 
 charge of powder for it was thirty pounds. 
 It carried a ball weighing two hundred 
 and twenty-five pounds ; and such was the 
 precision with which it could be fired, as 
 ascertained from actual experiments, that 
 
322 
 
 EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 an object the size of a hogshead could be 
 hit nine times in ten, at a distance of 
 half a mile. 
 
 The gun being loaded, the first thing 
 was to ascertain the precise distance of 
 the object to be fired at, this being done 
 by means of an instrument, constructed 
 upon trigonometrical principles, the scale 
 on which indicated the distance at a 
 glance. The next thing was to give the 
 gun the proper elevation. This was done 
 by means of a self-acting lock, on an arm 
 of which was a scale that indicated the 
 precise elevation necessary to reach a 
 given distance with the ball. A spring 
 on top of the lock was then brought up 
 to the point indicated, the hammer pulled 
 back, and, at the very point of time when, 
 
 by the ship's motion, the gun reached that 
 point, and not before nor afterward, the 
 gun was of itself discharged. 
 
 The weight of the 'Peacemaker' was 
 ten tons ; its length, fifteen feet ; with a 
 bore of twelve inches. It had been tested 
 with a charge of forty-nine pounds of 
 powder ; had frequently been fired with 
 thirty ; it exploded with twenty-five. 
 
 A few days before the exhibition of the 
 ordnance to the presidential party, there 
 was an interesting trial of the gun, its 
 manner of working and its powers 
 attended with most satisfactory results. 
 All the preparation for firing, with the 
 
 exception simply of putting the powder 
 and ball into the gun, was made by Com- 
 modore Stockton personally. By means 
 of a tackle fixed to the breech, a motion 
 was given to the gun similar to that im- 
 parted by a heavy swell, and when it 
 reached the point indicated it was dis- 
 charged. The ball in this case traveled 
 about two miles before it hit the water, 
 and then bounded several times. The 
 Princeton went down the river as far as 
 Mount Vernon. In going down, the 
 ' Peacemaker ' was discharged three times, 
 and, in returning, twice. On the fourth 
 fire, the ball struck on the land, and its 
 effect was lost sight of by those on board 
 so that the party demanded another 
 fire, and respectfully requested the cap- 
 tain to put in a little 
 more powder this time. 
 Before firing for the fifth 
 and last time, the captain 
 said he should take the 
 sense of the company. 
 " All those in favor of an- 
 other fire will say, aye." 
 The air resounded with 
 "aye!" "All those op- 
 posed to another fire will 
 say, no." Not a solitary 
 voice. " The ayes have 
 it," said the captain ; " I 
 have the assent of con- 
 gress, and I'll go ahead." 
 Probably fifty pounds of 
 powder went into the 
 'Peacemaker' this time. As before, the 
 gun was fired by the captain himself. 
 The ball went, probably, four miles before 
 it struck. It bounded fifteen times on the 
 ice, in the course of which it performed a 
 half circle. 
 
 Stockton was one of those persevering 
 and enlightened experimenters who, like 
 James, Hodman, Wade, Dahlgren, Ames, 
 Sawyer, Parrott, Hotchkiss, Gillmore, are 
 an honor to the cause of military science. 
 It was in 1839, while in England, that his 
 attention was attracted to the extraordi- 
 nary and important improvements there 
 introduced in the manufacture of large 
 
EXPLOSION OF THE PEACEMAKER. 
 
 323 
 
 masses of wrought iron for objects requir- 
 ing great strength, and he was thus led 
 to consider the question how far the same 
 material might he employed in the con- 
 struction of cannon of large caliber. 
 Singular enough, when Commodore Stock- 
 ton applied to a manufacturer to do the 
 job, he the manufacturer declared that 
 
 it could not be done ; and it was not until 
 Commodore Stockton had promised to pay 
 all the expense of an attempt out of his 
 own pocket, that the manufacturer would 
 consent to make a trial. In a short time, 
 the manufacturer, seeing that it was per- 
 fectly practicable, became as great an en- 
 thusiast in the matter as Stockton himself. 
 
XL. 
 
 DISCOVERT OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER AS A PRE- 
 VENTIVE OF PAIN. 1846. 
 
 Performance of Surgical Operations Involving the Intensest Torture, During the Happy TJnconsciom- 
 ness of the Patient. Account of the First Capital Demonstration Before a Crowded and Breathless 
 Assembly. Its Signal Success. Thrill of Enthusiastic Joy Most Beneficent Boon Ever Conferred 
 by Science upon the Human Race. Instinctive Dread of Pain. Fruitless Search Hitherto for a Pre- 
 ventive. Terror of the Probe and Knife. Heroes Quail Before Them. Case of the Bluff Old 
 Admiral. Discovery of the Long-sought Secret. Sulphuric Ether the Prize. Bliss During Ampu- 
 tation. Honor Due to America. A Whole World Elated. Medical Men Exultant. Curious Relig- 
 ious Objections. Test Case in Surgery. Startling and Romantic Interest. Value in Public Hos- 
 pitals. War-Sufferings Ameliorated Various Effects while Inhaling. Amusing and Extraordinary 
 Cases." Thocht the Deil had a Grip o' her ! "Odd Talk of an Innocent Damsel Old Folki 
 Wanting to Dance. Awards to the Discoverers. 
 
 11 The fierce extremity of Buffering has been steeped In the wstere of forgetfulness, and the deepest fturow in the knotted brow ftf 
 ony has been smoothed forever." PROF. O. W. HOLMES. 
 
 UMANITY even the hardiest 
 and bravest portions of it in- 
 stinctively shrinks, with dread, 
 from the pain attendant upon a 
 deliberate cutting of the living 
 flesh by surgical instruments. 
 The case is related of a bluff 
 old English admiral one of the 
 stoutest hearts that ever beat, in 
 a service whose men of every 
 grade are, to a proverb, daunt- 
 
 RELIEVINO PAIM BY THE USE op ETHER. less, who, in the opening of his 
 
 distinguished career, had been engaged in cutting out an enemy's frigate. From the 
 gun-boat, he climbed up the ship's steep side, and, foremost of his crew, had reached the 
 bulwarks, when, receiving a stunning blow, he fell into his boat again, striking his 
 back with great violence. Years afterwards, a tumor had grown on the injured 
 part; and at length the admiral gray, and bent in years found it advisable tKo,t 
 this growth should be removed. The man that never feared death in its most ghast'y 
 and appalling form, now shrank from the surgeon's knife ; the removal, contemplated by 
 the man of many battles with feeling almost akin to childish fear, was long deferred ; 
 and at length, half stupefied by opium though he was, a most unsteady patient did he 
 prove during the operation. 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER. 
 
 325 
 
 Numberless instances have there been, 
 too, of women mothers who, for their 
 kindred, have been at any time ready to sac- 
 rifice their lives,by watching and privation, 
 in loathsome and tainted chambers of infec- 
 tious disease, but, when themselves be- 
 came victims of that which they knew re- 
 quired a surgical operation, and which, 
 without this, they were well assured must 
 miserably consume them away, even 
 these noble minds, resolute in the prospect 
 of death, have yet quailed under the fear 
 of surgical suffering ; they have studiously 
 concealed their malady from their nearest 
 friends, and deliberately preferred the 
 misery of a fatal, and unchecked, and 
 gnawing cancer, to the apprehended tor- 
 ture of an operation, temporary though it 
 be. This feeling has been universal, in 
 all ages, among the victims of keen physi- 
 cal suffering. 
 
 From time immemorial, means have 
 been sought, and with partial success, to 
 relieve and even to destroy pain, during 
 the manipulations of practical surgery. 
 For this purpose, opium, Indian hemp, 
 mesmerism, and nitrous oxide gas and 
 alcohol, have been employed, and all in 
 their turn abandoned, except that opium 
 in many cases, and mesmerism in a few, 
 still continued to be used with imperfect 
 success, and almost always with the subse- 
 quent disadvantage of headache, feverish- 
 ness, or other general disorder. 
 
 It ivas reserved for the simple inhala- 
 tion of a certain gas pure sulphuric 
 ether to achieve in surgery that for which 
 surgeons had for centuries labored, and 
 labored in vain ! 
 
 This was in 1846. A certain old gentle- 
 man, however, as the case is narrated, 
 was not altogether a stranger to the com- 
 forting effects of this same anodyne pro- 
 cess, some forty years previously. He had 
 discovered that the fumes of ether could 
 lull him into forgetfulness of the pains 
 and disquietude of a bustling and check- 
 ered life. He was a man of research in 
 his way ; curious in beds, baths, and pro- 
 fessing to understand disease and its cure 
 better by far than his fellows. But he 
 
 was loose in principle, as well as weak in 
 science, and no doubt, most deservedly, 
 had many roughnesses in life which he 
 could wish to rub away. His mode was 
 this : Obtaining an ounce or two of 
 ether, he leisurely sniffed up its vapor, sit- 
 ting softly the while, and manifestly en- 
 joying a time of calmness and repose, 
 greatly to his liking. Indeed, on being 
 interrogated, he was in the habit of 
 blandly answering, " soothing, sir, sooth- 
 ing to an immeasurable degree." In this 
 oblivion to the disgusting harassments 
 of life, he was in the habit of indulging 
 many times a day. He had curiously dis- 
 covered that the fumes of ether could 
 relieve, temporarily, from the pains of a 
 mind ill at ease ; but he was not to know 
 that it could still more wonderfully 
 assuage the body's worst suffering. 
 
 The divulgement of this most beneficent 
 boon to the world since man's moral re- 
 demption by which the most dreaded of 
 surgical operations can be performed dur- 
 ing a happy unconsciousness of the patient 
 not merely with little suffering, but ab- 
 solutely with none is due to three Ameri- 
 cans, namely, Drs. Morton, Jackson, and 
 Wells ; but to which of these is due the 
 priority or chief merit of the discovery, is 
 a question long and bitterly discussed, and 
 still undecided. Certainly, however, the 
 proceedings of each of these gentlemen, in 
 connection with the discovery, show un- 
 doubted scientific acuteness, ingenuity, 
 zeal and perseverance. 
 
 The enthusiasm with which the an- 
 nouncement of this marvelous discovery 
 T7aa received may well be described as 
 unbounded. Wafted across the Atlantic, 
 it was at once hailed with rapturous ex- 
 ultation in England, and speedily adopted 
 in most of the large hospitals throughout 
 the kingdom also, in the vast hospitals 
 of Paris, and in the numerous institutions 
 of like character in Germany, including 
 those so celebrated at Vienna and Berlin. 
 
 Still, there were not wanting those who 
 regarded the discovery with distrust, and 
 some of the public medical institutions 
 barred their doors against the new alle- 
 
326 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHEE. 
 
 viating agent. Objections based on relig- 
 ious grounds were urged against the em- 
 ployment of ether. Pain, it was argued, 
 was the natural and intended consequence 
 of the primal sin, and therefore any attempt 
 to do away with it must be wrong. These 
 objectors failed to see that their argument, 
 if it proved anything, proved too much, 
 since it held with equal cogency against 
 any and every remedial agency, in all 
 cases whatsoever. Others opposed the 
 anaesthetic on the ground that pain is sal- 
 utary, and that its annihilation would be 
 
 this, it was alleged that the new agent 
 might be used for infamous purposes. " A 
 fatal habit," it was said, " had sprung up 
 of using ether, like opium, for purposes of 
 exhilaration, to all intents intoxication. 
 A burglar forced his way into a mansion 
 when all its occupants were in profound 
 slumber, and, applying ether to them, he 
 had the house all to himself." Frequent 
 accidents, moreover, resulted from the use 
 of impure ether by unskillful hands, so fre- 
 quent, indeed, that prosecution was threat- 
 ened for administering it at all. 
 
 HORACE WE US 
 
 THE THREE CLAIMANTS OF THE DISCOVEBY OF PAINLESS SUBGEHY, BY ETKEB. 
 
 hazardous to the patient. And an emi- 
 nent physiologist expressed the doubt 
 whether there were a true advantage in 
 uppressing pain. " It is a trivial mat- 
 ter," said this stoic, " to suffer, and a dis- 
 covery whose object is the prevention of 
 pain is of slight interest." 
 
 Then, too, letters came pouring in upon 
 the discoverer from all over the civilized 
 world, upbraiding him with having an- 
 nounced the claims of a humbug. He 
 also received constant visits from profes- 
 sional gentlemen, who questioned the ac- 
 curacy of the experiments. Worse than 
 
 But the domain of the grim demon, 
 Pain, having once been successfully in- 
 vaded, humanity and science were ill-dis- 
 posed to yield the vantage ground. One 
 of the most eminent professors of surgery 
 in America, Dr. 0. W. Holmes, said: 
 " The knife is searching for disease the 
 pulleys are dragging back dislocated 
 limbs nature herself is working out the 
 primal curse, which doomed the tenderest 
 of her creatures to the sharpest of her 
 trials ; but the fierce extremity of her 
 suffering has been steeped in the waters 
 of forgetfulness, and the deepest furrow 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER. 
 
 327 
 
 in the knotted brow of agony has been 
 smoothed forever." So, too, that world- 
 renowned surgeon and anatomist, Dr. 
 John C. Warren, grave, venerable, and 
 dispassionate, exclaimed : 
 
 " Who could have imagined, that draw- 
 ing the knife over the delicate skin of the 
 face might produce a sensation of un- 
 mixed delight! that the turning and 
 tivisting of instruments in the most sensi- 
 tive bladder might be accompanied by a 
 beautiful dream ! " 
 
 It was natural enough, certainly, that 
 benevolence should prompt the humane 
 surgeon to such utterances of congratula- 
 tion, for it supplied to him a desideratum, 
 long sought, for the relief of the excrucia- 
 ting pain they were necessarily obliged to 
 inflict in the practice of their profession. 
 For screaming, and struggles, and intense 
 suffering under the surgeon's knife, ether- 
 ization substituted complete exemption 
 from pain, associated in some with the 
 quietude, mental and corporeal, of deep 
 sleep; in others, with pleasing dreams, 
 imaginary busy scenes, and sweet music ; 
 and in others, with a perfect consciousness 
 of surrounding objects and events. The 
 obstetrician finds in it the means of alle- 
 viating that distress with which woman 
 has always been afflicted, when in the 
 act of becoming a mother. To the physi- 
 cian it affords one of the most useful, as 
 it is one of his most prompt, remedies. 
 He, before, had no reliable means of re- 
 lieving the spasms of tetanus ; he not 
 unfrequently failed to procure sleep, in ( 
 delirium tremens, when the question was 
 one of sleep or death ; his before pallia- 
 tive remedy, opium, for the pain of colic, 
 too often purchased temporary relief at the 
 expense of an aggravation of the cause of 
 the disease, and of increased difficulties in 
 its cure ; and he occasionally witnessed 
 the breaking up of the system of a neu- 
 ralgic patient, more as a consequence of 
 repeated large doses of opium, than of the 
 disease itself. 
 
 Heretofore, also, the shock of all serious 
 operations had been formidable. The 
 patient, however resigned and courageous, 
 
 was deeply impressed in system ; the 
 pulse became feeble, the surface cold and 
 pale, the eye dim, respiration troubled, 
 and the whole powers of life brought low. 
 With the use of ether, this is otherwise. 
 Parturition may take place, thighs may be 
 amputated, stones extracted, tumors re- 
 moved, dentistry in all its branches per- 
 formed ; the chief deviations from the nor- 
 mal characters of health being, in all these 
 cases, such as are known to be the effects of 
 ether and, accordingly, both manageable 
 and transient. In the army, it has been 
 found of incalculable service, in cases re- 
 quiring the use of the probe and and knife, 
 the sadly ample opportunity in this field 
 during the war in the Crimea, in Mexico, 
 and on the battle-grounds of the South, 
 adding fresh triumphs to the discovery. 
 
 It will be interesting to give, at this 
 point, an account of the first surgical 
 operation performed under the influence 
 of ether, the result of which so fully de- 
 monstrated this glorious truth of science. 
 It occurred at the Massachusetts General 
 Hospital, the operator being Dr. Hayward. 
 
 In his own narration of the circum- 
 stances of this deeply interesting and most 
 important occasion, Dr. Hayward says : " It 
 was my fortune to perform the first capital 
 operation on a patient rendered insensible 
 by the inhalation of sulphuric ether. It 
 rarely falls to the lot of a professional 
 man to be the witness of a scene of more 
 intense interest. The operating-room was 
 crowded ; many were obliged to stand. 
 Besides the class of students in attend- 
 ance on the lectures, numbering more than 
 one hundred, and many of the principal 
 physicians and surgeons of the city and 
 neighborhood, there were present several 
 clergymen, lawyers, and other individuals, 
 from the various callings of life. When 
 I entered the theater, before the patient 
 was brought in, I found it, to my surprise, 
 filled in every part, except the floor on 
 which the table stood, with persons on 
 whose countenances was depicted the al- 
 most painful anxiety with which they 
 awaited the result of the experiment they 
 were about to witness. I simply told them 
 
328 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER. 
 
 that I had decided, with the advice of my 
 colleagues, to allow the patient on whom I 
 was to operate, to inhale an article which 
 was said to have the power of annulling 
 pain. The patient was then brought in. 
 She was a delicate looking girl of about 
 twenty years of age, who had suffered for 
 a long time from a scrofulous disease of 
 the knee-joint. It had at length sup- 
 purated ; there were extensive opening* 
 into the cavity of the joint; the cartilages 
 were ulcerated, and partly absorbed ; the 
 bones carious, and symptoms of hectic 
 fever had already made their appearance. 
 As soon as she was well arranged on the 
 table I told her that I should let her 
 breathe something which I hoped would 
 prevent her from suffering much from the 
 operation, and that she need not be afraid 
 of breathing it freely." The critical 
 nature of this case can easily be appre- 
 ciated, even by the unprofessional mind, 
 and the result is fraught with deep and 
 romantic interest. 
 
 It being desirable that the amputation 
 should be performed as rapidly as possible, 
 Dr. Hayward decided to accomplish it 
 by means of the flap operation. One per- 
 son was to compress the artery, another to 
 withdraw the flaps, a third to hand the in- 
 struments, and a fourth to watch the pulse. 
 Dr. Hayward grasped the patient's limb 
 with his left hand, and held the amputat- 
 ing knife behind him in his right, care- 
 fully concealed from her view. The 
 mouthpiece of the inhaling instrument 
 was then put into her mouth, and she was 
 directed to take long inspirations. After 
 breathing in this way a short time, the 
 nostrils were compressed, so that all the 
 air that went into the lungs must first 
 pass through the machine, and of course 
 be mixed with the vapor of the ether. 
 She breathed with perfect ease, and with- 
 out struggling, and in about three minutes 
 from the time the instrument was put 
 into her mouth, Dr. Morton said, * She is 
 ready.' A death-like silence reigned in 
 the room ; no one moved, or hardly 
 breathed. The doctor passed the knife 
 directly through the limb, and brought it 
 
 out as rapidly as he could, and made the 
 upper nap. The patient gave no sign of 
 feeling or consciousness, but looked like 
 one in a deep, quiet sleep. Every other 
 person in the room took a full inspiration 
 that was distinctly audible, and seemed to 
 feel that they could now breathe again. 
 The second flap was then made, the bone 
 sawed, five arteries were tied, and as the 
 doctor was tightening the ligature upon 
 the sixth and last she groaned, being the 
 first indication of sensibility that had 
 been given. Nothing more was done than 
 to bring the flaps together, cover the 
 stump with cloths dipped in cold water, 
 and apply two or three turns of a roller to 
 keep them in place. Her consciousness 
 soon returned ; she mas wholly ignorant 
 that the operation had been done! For 
 some time she would not believe it, and 
 said that she had felt nothing till the 
 doctor tied the last artery. The operation 
 lasted a minute and three-quarters. 
 
 The phenomena, or effects, produced by 
 the administration of ether, are extremely 
 various, depending much, of course, upon 
 the temperament, habits, and condition of 
 the patient. Sometimes the dream is ex- 
 quisitely charming, and the patient seems 
 passed into another and a better world. 
 Sometimes the opposite state obtains, the 
 patient betraying' manifest uneasiness 
 while in the trance, by restless, staring, 
 anguished eye-balls, by groaning, and by 
 wrestling movements of the body. And 
 these are not loath to emerge from the 
 effects of the drug, while the former part 
 with them grudgingly. One poor girl, for 
 instance, had struggled hard during an 
 amputation, yet felt no pain ; and, on com- 
 ing to herself, thankfulness was expressed 
 in every feature, as well as by her blithe 
 tongue, for she "thocht the deil had a 
 grip o' her a' the time." 
 
 In some cases, the dreamer is falling from 
 a great height rapidly, down and down into 
 some unfathomable abyss. In other cases, 
 the dream is warlike ; personal to the 
 dreamer; or of by-gone days, implicating 
 some great military demonstration ; and 
 the crack of tooth-pulling has thus passed 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHEE. 
 
 329 
 
 off as the din of ordnance. Sometimes, in 
 youth, the dream lias been " all fun ;" and 
 the dreamer has been anxious to be back 
 into the midst of his pleasant pastime 
 again, even at the cost of another tooth- 
 drawing. The patient, if a wanderer, and 
 then in a strange land, may dream pleas- 
 antly of home " she had been home, it 
 was beautiful, and she had been gone a 
 month ; " so said one poor woman in the 
 midst of what, without the ether, would 
 have been agony. 
 
 Sometimes the dream passes steadily on 
 to completion, sometimes it is abruptly 
 closed by some critical procedure on the 
 part of the operator the extraction of a 
 tooth, with a sudden wrench, for example. 
 A soldier dreams of guns and bayonets, 
 and strife, and clamor ; a sailor, of ships, 
 and storms, and grog ; an Irishman of 
 whiskey and shillalahs, and a " skrim- 
 mage ; " a boy of marbles, tops, and " lots 
 of fun ; " a mother, of home and children ; 
 a girl, of gala-days and finery. 
 
 A tippler fancies he is in the grog-shop, 
 and there he may enjoy himself hugely 
 or he may dream " his wife came to fetch 
 him." Quarrelsome men grow pugilistic, 
 and coats may be doffed with appropriate 
 accompaniment of word and action. 
 Young men, having some one in their list 
 of female acquaintance dearer than the 
 rest, grow active lovers, and in lone walks, 
 earnest conversations, or soft whisperings, 
 seem to make rare progress in their suit. 
 The swearing and dissolute may indulge 
 in oaths and profane jests. The man of 
 fervent piety, who is habitually looking 
 heavenward, may not only suppose himself 
 translated to the realms of bliss, but may 
 take part in imagined exercises there. A 
 patient of this class was known thus to 
 employ himself immediately after a pain- 
 ful operation ; four verses of a psalm were 
 sung by him very loudly, with his eyes 
 fixed, his body in a tremor, and intense 
 fervor shown in every movement; he 
 would not be interrupted, and could 
 scarcely be prevailed upon to leave the 
 operation-room, seeing that he found him- 
 self so wonderfully happy there said he 
 
 had been in heaven, and had seen his 
 Savior ; on reaching his bed, he fell on his 
 knees and was rapt in prayer. 
 
 Not always, however, is the dream con- 
 sistent with the character. Among the 
 instances showing this, is that of a young, 
 simpering and innocent damsel, who, 
 addressing a most amiable and excellent 
 dentist, knitting her brow into something 
 more than a frown, clenching her fist, and 
 scowling defiance, vowed in the most up- 
 roarious tone and manner, that if he ven- 
 tured near her with his profane touch, 
 "big blackguard, as he was, she'd knock 
 him down." And so, too, staid, demure, 
 elderly persons, have, in most abandoned 
 gayety, insisted on the operator forthwith 
 joining them in a joyous polka ! 
 
 In plain language, as in plain fact saya 
 an English reviewer, whose interesting 
 resume is here quoted the patient is 
 drunk. Sometimes the consciousness of 
 this condition is made apparent by the 
 sensations which are induced in the early 
 period of inhalation. " You'll have me 
 drunk ! " cried one ; " Oh, you rascals ! I 
 know what you are ; " evidently supposing 
 that he had fallen into loose society, and 
 that his companions had a design on him. 
 But it is on coming out of the trance, that 
 the intoxication shows most. The patient 
 sways as he tries to stand ; is garrulous, 
 sprightly, and humorous ; and often in- 
 sists on shaking hands with all and 
 sundry. The unsteadiness of gait, and 
 lightness of head, sometimes have an 
 inconvenient duration, as is illustrated in 
 the case of a most worthy lady, who, leav- 
 ing the dentist too soon, had to grope her 
 way along the railing of the street, in 
 noonday, and ran no slight risk of losing 
 all reputation for sobriety. 
 
 Among the many amusing examples of 
 the effect produced by the administration 
 of the anaesthetic in addition to its pri- 
 mary quality of annulling pain the follow- 
 ing may be cited : An Irish woman, who 
 had never heard of ether previous to call- 
 ing upon the dentist for the purpose of 
 having a large molar tooth extracted, took 
 it on being told that she would suffer no 
 
330 
 
 DISCOVEEY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHEE. 
 
 pain, and would, probably, have an inter- 
 view with her friends in the old country. 
 Just as its influence commenced, the 
 doctor remarked that he would like to 
 have her observe what occupation her 
 friends were engaged in, if she succeeded 
 in finding them. The tooth was drawn ; 
 she moved not a muscle of the face, but 
 remained as in a quiet sleep, for about one 
 
 machinery, declared herself unhurt by the 
 operation, and wished the doctor to see if 
 there was not "another tooth what wanted 
 to lie dreiv." 
 
 Another example of this class, was that 
 of a middle-aged Irishman, who had sus- 
 tained compound fracture of the leg. The 
 fracture had not united, in consequence of 
 the presence of a dead piece of bone, and 
 
 MONUMENT ERECTED IN HONOR OF THE DISCOVERY OF KTHER. 
 
 minute. Upon opening her eyes she 
 exclaimed, " I have seen all my friends ; 
 they were engaged in spinning and don't 
 I hear their wheels now, sure ? " She 
 said it appeared to her as though she had 
 been absent many months. She recol- 
 lected that she went home in a steam 
 vessel, heard the noise of steam and 
 
 it became necessary to remove this by a 
 painful operation, in the following manner : 
 The patient was Seated on a table, and 
 the inhalation was applied. At first, little 
 effect was produced, but after some min- 
 utes, the patient fell backwards, as in a 
 swoon. The operator was then about to 
 proceed ; but the man immediately ob- 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER. 
 
 331 
 
 jected, saving that "he was not asleep, and 
 that he trusted nothing would be done 
 till he was asleep." For full twenty min- 
 utes more the inhalation went on, the man 
 confused and talkative, but wide-awake, 
 and occasionally expressing very emphati- 
 cally his conviction that " it would not do." 
 At length, however, while in this wakeful 
 state, the operation was begun. Incisions 
 were made on the shin, and flaps were dis- 
 sected off so as to expose the bone beneath. 
 A portion of this was sawn and clipped 
 through, and then the dead bone was 
 removed. Only during the clipping of the 
 bone with strong straining pliers did any 
 sign of feeling escape from the patient, 
 who was busy inhaling all the while, and 
 now and then protesting that " it wouldn't 
 do." The operation occupied about ten 
 minutes, and, from the highly sensitive 
 nature of the parts involved, must have 
 been attended with excruciating suffering 
 under ordinary circumstances. After it 
 was over, the operator said to the patient 
 
 "I suppose you won't let me operate 
 to-day ? " 
 
 "Certainly not," replied the patient, 
 " it won't do ; I must be asleep. The 
 thing hasn't succeeded with me, and I am 
 sure it can't succeed with any one else, for 
 I did everything I could to get asleep, for 
 my own sake, and I'd do anything to plase 
 you." 
 
 " Then you won't even let me make a 
 cut into the leg ? " 
 
 " No ; I must be asleep ; we can try it 
 another time." 
 
 This plain proof of his utter unconscious- 
 ness of the operation having been per- 
 formed was acknowledged by the specta- 
 tors in a hearty round of applause. The 
 patient then sat up, and, seeing the wound, 
 burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, 
 saying 
 
 "No doubt there? s blood, or something 
 rery like it; but I haven't felt a single 
 thing done to my leg. That bates the 
 globe ! " 
 
 On being asked decidedly as to his 
 having felt anything, he repeatedly an- 
 swered "Not a ha' porth." He got into 
 
 amazing spirits, and refused to leave the 
 room until he had told "all about the tol- 
 drunis of the business." And then, with 
 the manner of a tipsy man, and very 
 happy, he kept surgeons and students in a 
 roar of laughter for some minutes with a 
 narrative of his condition during the in- 
 halation, which, Irish-like, seemed to have 
 an interminable medley of imaginary 
 fights and "killings" going on around 
 him. 
 
 It has already been stated, that Drs. 
 Jackson, Morton, and Wells, respectively, 
 claim the honor of having discovered this 
 great fact in chemical and medical science, 
 and the claim of each is supported by a 
 formidable army of names and evidence. 
 One of the most candid investigators of 
 the character and weight of these several 
 and conflicting claims, has presented the 
 case in this light, namely: That to Dr. 
 Wells unquestionably belongs the merit 
 of having first demonstrated the happy 
 idea of deadening sensibility in painful 
 operations, by using both nitrous oxide 
 and sulphuric ether ; that to Dr. Jackson, 
 the thanks of the world are due for lend- 
 ing that influence which his well-earned 
 reputation qualified him to do, in estab- 
 lishing confidence in the public mind in 
 the use of sulphuric ether, as a substitute 
 for the nitrous oxide ; and that, to Dr. 
 Morton's indefatigable exertions in secur- 
 ing the attention of leading medical men 
 to the subject, was due the rapid adoption 
 of sulphuric ether in connection with the 
 practice of surgery. But, singularly 
 enough, though the French Academy has 
 acknowledged, by pecuniary and honorary 
 awards, the indebtedness of mankind to 
 the American discoverers of this vast 
 blessing to humanity, the American gov- 
 ernment has thus far failed to confer any 
 reward upon any one of the distinguished 
 claimants. A costly and superb monu- 
 ment, designed and executed with con- 
 summate skill by Ward, the eminent 
 sculptor, and erected at the cost of a 
 wealthy citizen of Boston, in honor of this 
 great discovery, now adorns the public 
 garden of that city. 
 
XLI. 
 
 INVENTION OF THAT WONDROUS PIECE OF MECHANISM, 
 THE SEWING-MACHINE. 1846. 
 
 Romantic Genius and Perseverance Displayed in its Production Toils of the Inventor in His Garret 
 World-Wide Introduction of the Device. Upwards of One Thousand Patents Taken Out in the 
 United States. The Industrial Interests of the Country Affected to the Amount of $500,000,000 
 Annually. The Humble Inventor Becomes a Millionaire. The Main Principle Involved. Compari- 
 son with Hand-Sewing How it was Suggested. Listening to Some Advantage. History of Mr. 
 Howe's Efforts. Ingenuity, Struggles, Triumphs. Value of a Friend in Need. A Machine at Last 
 Its Parts, Capabilities, etc. Reception by the Public. Doubt Succeeded by Admiration. Great 
 Popularity and Demand. Wearisome Litigation with Rivals. Interesting Question of Priority. 
 Decided in Howe's Favor. He Rises to Affluence. Improvements by Others. Unique and Useful 
 Devices. Number of Machines Produced. Time and Labor Saved. Effect Upon Prices. New 
 Avenues of Labor Opened. 
 
 " The Invention all admired. 
 
 And each how he to be the inventor mlMed, 
 
 80 plain it seemed once found which yet tm-fbund. 
 
 Most would have thought impossible." 
 
 THH INVENTOK TOILING IN HIS GARRET. 
 
 IFFERENCE of opinion there may 
 be, with regard to the abstract 
 question, who first conceived the 
 peculiar principle involved in 
 sewing by machinery, and even 
 in respect to who was the original con- 
 structor of a machine capable of fulfilling 
 this idea ; but, so far as actual demonstra- 
 tion of its feasibleness and utility is con- 
 cerned, and for the great results which 
 have followed that demonstration, the world 
 must be considered as indebted to Elias 
 Howe, Jr., a Massachusetts mechanic, born 
 and reared in obscure circumstances, and 
 at an early age thrown upon his own 
 resources of industrious endeavor, for simple sub- 
 sistence. 
 
 It may be remarked, as a general fact, that the 
 peculiar or original principle characterizing the 
 modern sewing-machine, consists in the use of two 
 threads, oue being fed by a needle, and the other 
 
INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 333 
 
 the wrong side thread, or, as it has been 
 termed, the auxiliary thread being sup- 
 plied by a shuttle and bobbin. The needle 
 is secured to a stock, whose movement, 
 caused by arms and levers, drives its point 
 through the material to be sewed; the 
 eye of the needle, at a moderate distance 
 from the point, carries the thread through 
 and then retires leaving a loop, through 
 which loop a shuttle is passed, on the 
 tinder side of the material to be sewed; 
 this shuttle carries a quantity of thread 
 upon a spool, which it supplies as the seam 
 progresses. The needle on retiring draws 
 up the loop, and thus closes the seam, 
 which on the upper or face side of the 
 work presents the appearance of what is 
 called a 'row of stitching,' and on the 
 under, a close resemblance, but differing 
 slightly. The return, or rotation of the 
 shuttle in its orbit, is a matter of course, 
 and the work thus goes on continuously 
 and with great rapidity. 
 
 The feed, or the progressive movement 
 of the material to be sewed under the 
 needle, is accomplished in various ways 
 primarily, by means of the friction of a 
 feeding wheel, whose roughened surface 
 creates sufficient adhesion to move the 
 material forward at the requisite intervals. 
 This feed is effected by the ordinary 
 means of a racket-wheel and click, or paul, 
 the latter being capable of adjustment 
 through shifting levers, so as to give a 
 longer or shorter stitch, at the will of the 
 operator, or the requirements of the work. 
 
 These devices and arrangements, with 
 such improved modifications as experience 
 and ingenuity have suggested from time to 
 time, constitute the American sewing- 
 machine. 
 
 Although the use of the sewing-machine 
 has become general only within a compar- 
 atively recent period, the instrument is, 
 in a certain sense, an old invention. The 
 needle with the eye in the center, and 
 double-pointed, is beautifully employed in 
 the embroidery machine, which is an old 
 French device. Thjs machine worked 
 upon cloth as many as sixty similar figures 
 or flowers at the same time ; the whole 
 
 being directed by one hand, who, by the 
 aid of a pentagraphic guide on a prepared 
 pattern, pointed the needles to their appro- 
 priate place of entrance, and returned them 
 with unerring certainty and exactitude. 
 The earliest form of stitch made use of 
 was the 'chain stitch,' which is still 
 employed for ornamental purposes, but is 
 not approved of where strength and dura- 
 bility are required. The next stitch in 
 order was the ' running stitch,' and was 
 accomplished by means of a needle having 
 an eye in the middle and points at each 
 end ; this has been extensively used for 
 the cheaper kinds of work, but does not 
 insure durability. The next form of stitch 
 is that already described, as formed by 
 means of two threads, with a needle and 
 shuttle ; and this opens up the wonderful 
 era of modern sewing-machines, beginning 
 with the introduction to the public of that 
 by Mr. Howe. 
 
 It would be impossible to follow Mr. 
 Howe through all the details of his varied 
 experience during his early years. Suffice 
 it to say, that it was at Boston, when in 
 his twentieth year, and after he had 
 learned the rudiments of liis trade in one 
 of the machine shops of Lowell, and sub- 
 sequently in Cambridge, working side by 
 side with Nathaniel P. Banks, that the 
 thought of sewing by machinery was first 
 suggested to his mind. As related by 
 Mr. Parton, in his admirable magazine 
 sketch of Howe, this singularly fortuitous 
 incident happened in this wise : In the 
 year 1839, two men in Boston, one a 
 mechanic and the other a capitalist, were 
 striving to produce a knitting-machine, 
 which proved to be a task beyond their 
 strength. When the inventor was at his 
 wit's end, his capitalist brought the 
 machine to the shop of Ari Davis, to see 
 if that eccentric genius could suggest the 
 solution of the difficulty, and make the ma- 
 chine work. The shop, resolving itself into 
 a committee of the whole, gathered about 
 the knitting-machine and its proprietor, 
 and were listening to an explanation of its 
 principle, when Davis, in his wild, extrava- 
 gant way, broke in with the question 
 
334 
 
 INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 " What are you bothering yourselves 
 with a knitting-machine for ? Why don't 
 you make a sewing-machine ? " 
 
 " I wish I could," said the capitalist : 
 "but it can't be done." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it can," said Davis ; " I can 
 make a sewing-machine myself." 
 
 "Well," said the other, "you do it, 
 Davis, and I'll insure you an independent 
 fortune." 
 
 Among the workmen who stood by and 
 listened to this conversation and in this 
 instance at least the old adage concern- 
 ing listeners appears to have been reversed 
 says Parton, was Howe ; and from that 
 time he was in the habit, in his leisure 
 
 moments, of meditating devices for sewing 
 by machinery. Having inherited a con- 
 stitution hardly strong enough for the 
 work of a machinist, and burdened even 
 in his opening manhood with the care of a 
 growing family, his attention was more 
 and more concentrated upen the project 
 of building a machine which would furnish 
 him a livelihood more easily earned. In 
 December, 1845, upon a small capital, pro- 
 vided by the generosity of an old friend, 
 he shut himself up in a garret at Cam- 
 bridge, and set himself seriously to the 
 task of inventing a sewing machine. 
 After about six montJis of incessant labor 
 
 and reflection he produced the first ma- 
 chine that ever sewed a seam, and he was 
 soon the wearer of a suit of clothes made 
 by its assistance. This first machine, 
 which is one of great beauty and finish, is 
 still in existence, an object of peculiar 
 interest to the curious who inspect it; and 
 it will sew ten times as fast as a woman 
 can sew by hand. Having patented the 
 machine, and finding the tailors of Amer- 
 ica averse to its introduction, he went to 
 England, where he succeeded in selling 
 two machines ; but found so little encour- 
 agement that he would have starved to 
 death but for the aid of friends, and he 
 resolved to return home, or at least to send 
 his family. So pinched was he, 
 while in London, that he fre- 
 quently borrowed small sums of 
 his friend, Mr. Inglis on one 
 occasion a shilling, with which he 
 bought some beans, and cooked 
 and ate them in his own room, 
 and through him also obtained 
 some credit for provisions. Ar- 
 riving home, after an absence of 
 about two years, he found that the 
 sewing-machine was a conspicuous 
 object of public attention; doubt 
 had been succeeded by admiration 
 of its qualities ; and several ingen- 
 ious men having experimented, 
 had finally improved upon the ma- 
 chine as originally constructed. 
 -^< A war of litigation ensued, and, 
 ,^^ ' after several years, Mr. Howe's 
 claim to be the original inventor wa 
 legally and irreversibly established, the 
 judge deciding that 'there was no evidenc* 
 which left a shadow of doubt that, for all 
 the benefit conferred upon the public by 
 the introduction of a sewing-machine, the 
 public are indebted to Mr. Howe.' To 
 him, therefore, all other inventors or 
 improvers had to pay tribute. From 
 being a poor man, Howe became, in a 
 few years, one of the most noted mil- 
 lionaires in America ; and his bust, exe- 
 cuted by Eilis, sljows a man of marked 
 personal appearance and striking natural 
 endowments. 
 
INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 335 
 
 But here the very singular circumstances 
 relating to the alleged priority of Mr. 
 Walter Hunt's invention, as described by 
 a graphic and well-informed writer in the 
 New York Galaxy, showing how preca- 
 rious, at best, is the basis upon which 
 even the most impartial of legal conclu- 
 sions are arrived at, may well be pre- 
 sented, as exhibiting the trials of inventors 
 and public benefactors : It was between 
 the years 1832 and 1834, that Mr. Hunt, 
 in his own workshop in Amos street, New 
 York city, invented, built, and put into 
 full and effective operation a machine for 
 sewing, stitching, and seaming cloth. 
 This first machine was made principally 
 by the inventor's own hands. It was the 
 pioneer sewing-machine of America, and 
 the first really successful one of the world. 
 There had already been a French inven- 
 tion, a tambour machine for ornamenting 
 gloves; but it was of very little general 
 utility. These machines of Walter Hunt 
 all contained the invention of the curved 
 needle with the eye near the point, the 
 shuttle and their combination, and they 
 originated the famous interlocked stitch 
 with two threads. Many samples of cloth 
 were perfectly sewn by these machines, 
 and many of the friends and neighbors of 
 the inventor came to see them work. At 
 length, one G. A. Arrowsmith was so well 
 satisfied with the working of the machines, 
 that he bought them, in 1834, and there- 
 with the right to obtain letters-patent. 
 But no sooner had Arrowsmith got this 
 right, than he became impressed both with 
 the vastness of the undertaking and with 
 the prejudice which any scheme appar- 
 ently tending to impoverish poor seam- 
 stresses would awaken. At the same time 
 he became involved in pecuniary disaster, 
 and for years did nothing with the 
 machine. Fortunately for Mr. Hunt's 
 fame, many persons had seen his machines 
 work, and had seen them sew a good, 
 strong and handsome stitch, and form 
 seams better than hand-sewing. Of these, 
 no less than six directly testified to this 
 fact in a suit afterward brought, and 
 established the fact beyond question that 
 
 Walter Hunt invented the first sewing- 
 machine, and that it contained the curved, 
 eye-pointed needle at the end of a vibrate 
 ing arm with a shuttle. The case itself 
 was decided upon another point. These 
 affidavits are still in existence. But this 
 was not all. Fifteen years after he had 
 sold his machines to Arrowsmith, who lost 
 a fortune and a name in not devoting him- 
 self to their reproduction, Waher Hunt 
 from memory gave a sworn written de- 
 scription of his first machine in every part, 
 and, to clinch the matter, afterward con- 
 structed a machine from that description, 
 which was the counterpart of the machine 
 of 1834, and worked perfectly. Finally, 
 one of the original machines sold to Arrow- 
 smith in 1834, was and is, still preserved, 
 though in a dilapidated condition. Walter 
 Hunt then undertook to make a new 
 sewing-machine, which should be an oper- 
 ative instrument, and should contain 
 all the parts which were preserved of 
 the old machine, with such others as were 
 necessary to present the machine in the 
 same shape that the original one pos- 
 sessed. He did this successfully, and 
 the restored machine, still operative and 
 ready to sew good, strong seams, is yet in 
 existence. 
 
 Without drawing further, however, from 
 this curiously interesting chapter in the 
 history of the machine, involving a ques- 
 tion of the deepest interest to inventors, 
 it is time to describe the instrument its 
 parts and peculiar features, and modus 
 operandi, invented by Mr. Howe, and 
 which transformed him from an obscure 
 and struggling mechanic to one of the 
 foremost manufacturers and millionaires 
 in America Seating ourselves therefore 
 before this wonderful elaboration of artis- 
 tic genius and skill, as it has come fresh 
 from the hands of the toilsome but at last 
 successful inventor, and witnessing its 
 weird and agile movement while its enthu- 
 siastic proprietor essays to sew a seam, we 
 find that two threads are employed, one of 
 which is carried through the cloth by 
 means of a curved needle, the pointed ead 
 of which passes through the cloth ; the 
 
336 
 
 INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 THE OLD AND SKW. SEWISO I1V I1AXU AXU MACHINE. 
 
 needle used has the eye that is to receive 
 the thread within a small distance, say an 
 eighth of an inch, of its inner or pointed 
 end, the other or outer end of the needle 
 being held by an arm that vibrates on a 
 pivot or joint pin, the curvature of the 
 needle being such as to correspond with 
 the length of the arm as its radius. 
 
 When the thread is carried through the 
 cloth, which may be done to the distance 
 of about three-fourths of an inch, the thread 
 will be stretched above the curved needle, 
 something in the manner of a bowstring, 
 leaving a small open space between the 
 two. A small shuttle, carrying a bobbin 
 filled with silk or thread, is then made to 
 pass entirely through this open space, 
 between the needle and the thread which 
 it carries ; and when the shuttle is re- 
 turned, which is done by means of a picker 
 staff or shuttle-driver, the thread which 
 was carried in by the needle is surrounded 
 by that received from the shuttle ; as the 
 needle is drawn out, it forces that which 
 was received from the shuttle into the 
 body of the cloth ; and as this operation 
 is repeated, a seam is formed which has on 
 
 each side of the cloth the same appearance 
 as that given by stitching, with this pecu- 
 liarity, that the thread sewn on one side 
 of the cloth is exclusively that which was 
 given out by the needle, and the thread 
 seen on the other side is exclusively that 
 which was given out by the shuttle. 
 
 Thus, according to this arrangement, a 
 stitch is made at every back and forth 
 movement of the shuttle. The two thick- 
 nesses of cloth that are to be sewed, are 
 held upon pointed wires, which project out 
 from a metallic plate, like the teeth of a 
 comb, but at a considerable distance from 
 each other, say three-fourths of an inch, 
 more or less, these pointed wires sustain- 
 ing the cloth, and answering the purpose of 
 ordinary basting. The metallic plate from 
 which these wires project has numerous 
 holes through it, which answer the purpose 
 of rack teeth in enabling the plate to move 
 forward, by means of a pinion, as the 
 stitches are taken. The distance to which 
 the said plate is moved, and, consequently, 
 the length of the stitches, may be regu- 
 lated at pleasure. 
 
 One of the most formidable of Mr. 
 
INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 337 
 
 Howe's competitors, as a successful in- 
 ventor and manufacturer, was Mr. I. M. 
 Singer. His biographer speaks of him as 
 a mechanic of some ingenuity but of small 
 means, who, taking up with a casual sug- 
 gestion made to him by a comrade, that a 
 sewing-machine capable of doing a greater 
 variety of work would be a profitable 
 thing, ceased all other labor, and, borrow- 
 ing forty or fifty dollars of his friend Mr. 
 Zieber, applied himself unremittingly to 
 the accomplishment of his task. He 
 worked, as he states, day and night, sleep- 
 ing but three or four hours out of the 
 twenty-four, and eating generally but 
 once a day, knowing that he must get a 
 machine made for forty dollars, or not get 
 it at all. The machine was completed the 
 night of the eleventh day from the day it 
 was commenced. About nine o'clock that 
 evening the parts of the machine were 
 finally put together, and a trial commenced 
 with it. The first attempt to sew was 
 unsuccessful, and the workmen, who were 
 tired out with almost unremitting work, 
 left him one by one, intimating that the 
 thing was a failure. Singer continued, 
 however, tr3'ing the machine, with Zieber 
 to hold the lamp for him ; but, in the ner- 
 vous condition to which he had become 
 reduced by incessant toil and anxiety, was 
 unsuccessful in getting the machine to 
 sew tight stitches. About midnight, 
 Singer started for the hotel where he then 
 boarded, accompanied by Zieber. Upon 
 the way, they sat down on a pile of boards, 
 and Zieber asked Singer if he had noticed 
 that the loose loops of thread on the upper 
 side of the cloth came from the needle. 
 It then flashed upon Singers mind that 
 he had forgotten to adjust the tension upon 
 the needle thread ! They both started for 
 the shop again. Singer adjusted the ten- 
 sion, tried the machine, and sewed five 
 stitches perfectly, when the thread broke. 
 The perfection of those stitches, however, 
 satisfied him that the machine was a 
 success, and he therefore stopped work, 
 went to the hotel, and had a sound sleep. 
 By three o'clock the next day, he had the 
 machine finished, and started with it to 
 22 
 
 New York, taking immediate steps to 
 secure a patent. It brought him, in a few 
 years, princely wealth. The peculiarity 
 of this machine is the chain stitch or 
 single thread device, but with the employ- 
 ment of an eye-pointed needle, and other 
 appliances, so as to make it admirably 
 adapted for the general purposes of sewing. 
 On a similar principle are the Ladd and 
 Webster, and Tinkle and Lyon, machines. 
 
 Other improvements or modifications of 
 the machine have been patented by Messrs. 
 Grover & Baker, Blodgett, Lerow, Wilson, 
 Morey, Johnson, Chapin, Gibbs, Leavitt, 
 Watson, Clark, Weed, Arnold, McKay, 
 Langdon, and others, but which can only 
 be alluded to here. The principle of the 
 double - thread self -regulating machine 
 brought forward by Mr. Martin, stopping 
 whenever the thread breaks or a loop is 
 missed, is claimed by several parties. A 
 number of the machines patented after 
 Howe's, use needles of a different kind from 
 his, but produce the same stitch ; most of 
 these instruments are equally correct in 
 respect to mechanical principles, but differ 
 widely in certain particulars, one being 
 vertical and the other horizontal, one car- 
 rying its own cloth and another requiring 
 that it should be carried by hand; with, 
 other differences. 
 
 But one of the most ingenious and orig- 
 inal devices in this line remains to be 
 mentioned, namely, a combination of the 
 sewing-machine and tho melodeon, by 
 Wheeler and Wilson, and by them exhib- 
 ited, on its completion, to an admiring 
 public. The apparatus had the appear- 
 ance, externally, of a small parlor side- 
 board or other similar piece of furniture. 
 On lifting the front, there was seen a 
 handsome set of piano keys. On closing 
 it, and turning back a hoop on the top, 
 there opened to the view a complete 
 sewing-machine, conveniently arranged. 
 Concealed below, within side doors, were 
 two pedals, one for the music, the other 
 for the sewing-machine. Thus, by the 
 use of one of these ingenious contrivances, 
 when the lady operating the machine 
 became tird of playing at sewing, she 
 
338 
 
 INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 could change her foot to the other pedal, 
 open the melodeon part, and discourse 
 music! The 'rotating hook' and feeding 
 apparatus of the Wilson machine consti- 
 tute an admirable feature ; and the same 
 may be said of the Grover & Baker or 
 'double loop ' stitch. 
 
 Though at first looked upon as of doubt- 
 ful utility, the value of the sewing-machine 
 was in a short time abundantly demon- 
 strated. Curiosity and doubt were suc- 
 ceeded by admiration, and soon the demand 
 became extensive both at home and abroad, 
 until, at the present time, the annual pro- 
 duction of machines is thought to approx- 
 imate to half a million. Active minds 
 were also not slow to devise what they 
 deemed to be improvements in the ma- 
 chine and its appurtenances ; and to this 
 end, the number of patent-claims filed up 
 to the present time does not vary much 
 from one thousand, though only an 
 extremely small proportion of these are of 
 any really practical importance. 
 
 Such a revolution in the processes and 
 results of national industry as that effected 
 by this machine could have entered into 
 no man's mind not even the mind of one 
 given to the wildest romancing. Thus, in 
 the brief period of some dozen years 
 merely, from the time of the introduction 
 of the machine to the public, the value 
 and practical results of the invention may 
 be understood from the following facts, 
 which appeared in evidence in the contest 
 before the commissioner of patents, for the 
 extension of Howe's patent namely : 
 
 At that time, the amount of the boot and 
 shoe business of Massachusetts was fifty- 
 five million dollars annually, and of this 
 amount, the ladies' and misses' gaiter- 
 boots and shoes involved one-half. About 
 one-eleventh of the sum total above named 
 was paid for sewing labor. From this 
 proportion it appeared that the annual 
 expenditure for sewing upon ladies' and 
 misses' gaiter-boots and shoes was two and 
 a half million dollars, and that it would 
 have cost four times as much if done by 
 hand, so that the saving in a single year, 
 in one state, by this invention, in the man- 
 
 ufacture of one special article only, was 
 nearly eight million dollars. 
 
 Similarly conclusive evidence was given 
 in regard to the making of shirts, by an 
 extensive manufacturer in Connecticut, 
 who stated that his factory turned out 
 about eight hundred dozen per week ; that 
 he used four hundred sewing-machines, 
 and that one machine, with an attendant, 
 would do the work of five hand-sewers at 
 least, and do it better. He paid, at least, 
 four dollars per week ; but, reckoning it 
 at three dollars, the old price for sewing 
 before machines were introduced, it 
 showed a saving, in this single manufac- 
 tory, of two hundred and forty thousand 
 dollars. Allowing, then, the males of the 
 United States, at that time, to wear out 
 two shirts a year apiece, a proportional 
 saving would amount to the large sum of 
 between eleven and twelve million dollars 
 annually, in making the single article of 
 shirts. 
 
 Another witness, representing the firm 
 of Brooks Brothers, of New York city, 
 manufacturers of clothing, stated that that 
 house alone did a business, at the period 
 named, of over a million dollars annually, 
 using twenty machines in the store, 
 besides patronizing those that others used, 
 and doing about three-fourths of all their 
 sewing by machines, and paying annually 
 for sewing labor about two hundred thou- 
 sand dollars ; seventy-five thousand dollars 
 of this was saved by machines, that is, 
 the machines saved seventy-five thousand 
 dollars on every two hundred thousand 
 paid for sewing labor. But the great 
 manufactures of this house did not consti- 
 tute, at most, but one-hundredth part of 
 the machine-made clothing produced in 
 that city ; which fact, putting the propor- 
 tion at one-hundredth part, made the busi- 
 ness of manufacturing machine clothing in 
 the city of New York one hundred million 
 dollars per annum ; and thus, at the rate 
 paid by that house for sewing, it brought 
 the cost of sewing in that branch of the 
 business in that city, even with the 
 assistance of the sewing-machines, up to 
 twenty million dollars. Applying the 
 
INVENTION OF THE SEWING-MACHINE. 
 
 389 
 
 same ratio to the estimated amount of this 
 branch of business in the United States, 
 the total would reach the sum of seventy- 
 five million dollars. Ali this, be it remem- 
 
 bered, was in the comparative infancy of 
 the machine. Its pecuniary importance, 
 as a labor agent, is now estimated to reach 
 $500,000,000 annually. 
 
XLI1. 
 SPIKITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 184T. 
 
 Familiar Intercourse Claimed to be Opened between Human and Disembodied Beings. Alleged Reve- 
 lations from the Unseen World. Singular and Humble Origin, in a Secluded N. Y. Village, of this 
 Great Modern Wonder. Its Development among All Nations in All Lands. Astonishing and 
 Inexplicable Character of the Manifestations. First Rappings in Hydesville, N. Y Time, Manner, 
 Circumstances. A Murdered Man's Spirit How the Mystery was Solved. Rappings, the Spirit 
 Language. Its Interpretation Discovered. Two Young Girls the " Mediums." Their Harassed 
 Experience. Public Efforts to Sift the Matter. No Clue to any Deception. The Family go to 
 Rochester. Knockings Accompany Them. New Forms of " Manifestations." Many Mediums 
 Spring Up. Things Strange and Startling. Universal Wonder Excited. Theories of Explanation. 
 Investigations and Reports. Views of Agassiz, Herschel, Etc. Press and Pulpit Discussions. 
 Different Opinions as to the Tendency of the Phenomena Thirty Years' History. 
 
 "I cannot dUpoae of another man's facts, nor allow him to dispose of mine." EHBB801T. 
 
 HOUSE IN WHICH SPIRITUAL EAPPINGS ORIGINATED. 
 
 OCHESTER, N. Y., one of the most 
 beautiful and thriving of Ameri- 
 can inland cities, has long borne 
 the celebrity which attaches to 
 what are now known, the world 
 over, as " spiritual manifesta- 
 tions," knockings, rappings, ta- 
 ble-movings, spirit communica- 
 tions, and the like. But, in 
 reality, to the secluded and unambitious village of Hydesville, in the town of 
 Arcadia, Wayne county, N. Y., belongs the pre-eminent distinction of being the place 
 where originated, in a manner most casual, and seemingly insignificant for the time, 
 in respect to duration or results, this most mysterious, wonderful, and wide-spread 
 physicc-psychological phenomenon since the world began. It was from Hydesville that 
 these manifestations were introduced so to speak in the city first named, and where, 
 by the great notoriety which soon characterized them, they came to be known, 
 universally, as the " Rochester Knockings." 
 
 The starting point of all, in the history of this astonishing movement one which 
 has extended to the remotest bounds of the known world, which has challenged the 
 scrutiny and excited the wonder of monarchs, savants, popes, philosophers, divines, 
 councils and synods, is the humble house in Hydesville, occupied, in 1847, by Mr. 
 Michael Weekman, who, at different times that year, heard rappings upon his door, 
 
SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 341 
 
 but on every occasion failed to discover 
 any person present, or any producing 
 source or cause, notwithstanding the 
 most vigilant watch was kept up and the 
 most industrious search instituted, by the 
 family and neighbors. Under these 
 strange and uncomfortable circumstances, 
 Mr. Weekman left the premises, which, 
 however, were soon tenanted by the family 
 of Mr. John D. Fox. But, so far from 
 a change of occupants being attended by 
 a cessation of the rappings, the very 
 reverse was the fact. From March, 1848, 
 the house was disturbed, from night to 
 night, by the same constantly recurring 
 sounds rappings, tappings, knocks, and 
 even shuffling of furniture, and which 
 could not be accounted for on the hypothe- 
 sis of natural agency. 
 
 Nor were these knockings now con- 
 fined to the door of the house, but per- 
 vaded every part, depriving the inmates 
 of their regular sleep. In this state of 
 wakefulness, and the source of the noises 
 appearing to be in close proximity to the 
 bed occupied by two of the Fox girls, it is 
 related that one of them, some ten or 
 eleven years of age, thought she would 
 just try the experiment, .sportively, of re- 
 sponding to the raps by as close and 
 accurate a repetition of them as was pos- 
 sible with her fingers. Her efforts were 
 so far successful as to elicit reciprocal 
 sounds from the invisible agency. In a 
 little while, the parties were enabled to 
 open a distinct communication, by means 
 of the following simple method, and with 
 the accompanying results, as narrated by 
 the Rev. Mr. Fishbough, an early investi- 
 gator of the phenomena. After mutual 
 responses had been opened, one of the 
 girls said : 
 
 " Now do as I do ; count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 
 6," at the same time striking her hands 
 together, the girl acting more in sport, 
 than in expectation of what really fol- 
 lowed. The same number of raps re- 
 sponded, and at similar intervals. The 
 mother of the girls then said: "Count 
 ten ; " and ten distinct raps were heard ; 
 "Count fifteen," and that number of 
 
 sounds followed. She then said, " Tell 
 us the age of Cathy (the youngest daugh- 
 ter) by rapping one for each year," and 
 the number of years was rapped correctly. 
 Then, in like manner, the age of each 
 of the other children was by request in- 
 dicated by this invisible agent. Startled 
 and somewhat alarmed by these manifes- 
 tations of intelligence, Mrs. Fox asked if 
 it was a human being who was making 
 that noise, and if it was, to manifest the 
 fact by making the same noise. There 
 was no sound. She then said, "If you 
 are a spirit, make two distinct sounds." 
 Two raps were accordingly heard. The 
 members of the family had by this time 
 all left their beds, and the house was again 
 thoroughly searched, as it had been be- 
 fore, but without discovering anything 
 that could explain the mystery ; and after 
 a few more questions, and responses by 
 raps, the neighbors were called in to 
 assist in further efforts to trace the phe- 
 nomenon to its cause ; but these persons 
 were no more successful than the family 
 had been, and they confessed themselves 
 thoroughly confounded. For several sub- 
 sequent days the village was in a turmoil 
 of excitement, and multitudes visited the 
 house, heard the raps, and interrogated 
 the apparent intelligence which controlled 
 them, but without obtaining any clue to 
 the discovery of the agent, further than 
 its own persistent declaration that it was 
 a spirit. About three weeks after these 
 occurrences, David, a son of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Fox, went alone into the cellar where 
 the raps were then being heard, and said, 
 " If you are the spirit of a human being, 
 who once lived on the earth, can you rap 
 the letters that will spell your name ? 
 and if so, rap now three times." Three 
 raps were promptly given, and David pro- 
 ceeded to call the alphabet, writing down 
 the letters as they were indicated, and the 
 result was the name ' Charles B. Rosma,' 
 a name quite unknown to the family, and 
 which they were afterward unable to 
 trace. The statement was in like manner 
 obtained from the invisible intelligence, 
 that he was the spirit of a peddler who had 
 
342 
 
 SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 been murdered in that house some years 
 previous. It is said that, at first, the raps 
 occurred in the house even when all the 
 members of the family were absent, but 
 subsequently they occurred only in the 
 presence of the two younger daughters, 
 Catharine and Margaretta; and, on the 
 family removing, soon after, to the neigh- 
 boring city of Rochester, the manifesta- 
 tions still accompanied them ; the family 
 took up their abode with a married sis- 
 ter, Mrs. Fish, who subsequently became 
 celebrated as a medium, through whom 
 the manifestations were exhibited. 
 
 The original method of communication 
 the spirit language it would appear, 
 consisted in conveying an affirmative by a 
 
 THE MISSES FOX. 
 
 single rap (though perhaps emphasized 
 by more), and a negative was indicated by 
 silence. Five raps demanded the alpha- 
 bet, and this could be called over by the 
 living voice, or else in a printed form laid 
 upon a table, and the finger or a pencil 
 slowly passed along it when, on arriving 
 at the required letter, a rap was heard ; 
 the querist then recommenced, until words 
 and sentences were spelled out upon the 
 accuracy or intelligence displayed in 
 which, depended, in a great degree, the 
 amount of faith popularly accorded to the 
 manifestations. It was with this key, the 
 conception of which as adapted to the 
 mastery of the strange phenomenon is 
 utterly incomprehensible, that the above 
 
 information was evoked from the mur- 
 dered peddler, who also further stated that 
 the number of the years of his fleshly pil- 
 grimage had been thirty-one ; that he had 
 been murdered in that house, and buried 
 in the cellar ; and that the murderer was 
 alive, as were also the children of Rosma, 
 hia victim. 
 
 Such revelations as these, which, as 
 soon as received by the interlocutors, were 
 freely given to the world, excited pro- 
 digious interest, far and near. The cel- 
 lar was dug to a great depth, to discover, 
 if possible, some evidence of murder hav- 
 ing been committed ; the premises and 
 neighborhood examined with great thor- 
 oughness ; and inquiries made in all 
 directions. But all these efforts 
 failed to elicit any disclosure of 
 fact or circumstance, bearing in the 
 slightest degree upon such a trans- 
 action. 
 
 At length, on the fourteenth of 
 November, 1849, in accordance, as 
 was said, with directions from ' the 
 spirits,' a public lecture on the 
 origin and character of the mani- 
 festations was given in Corinthian 
 Hall, Rochester, at which the ' me- 
 diums ' were present. Manifesta- 
 tions were had, and a committee 
 was chosen from the audience to 
 make thorough examination into 
 their nature and origin, and report 
 at an adjourned meeting the next even- 
 ing. 
 
 Intense interest was felt in regard to 
 the result of this committee's proceedings, 
 and in due time their report was made to a 
 crowded and breathless assembly. In this 
 report, the committee stated that they 
 had made such investigations as seemed 
 necessary and practicable ; that the me- 
 diums had apparently afforded every 
 facility for the most minute and ample 
 examination ; but that they the com- 
 mittee had utterly failed to discover in 
 what manner the mysterious sounds or 
 raps were produced, or what was their 
 cause or origin, there being no visible 
 agency whatever to which, by any process 
 
SPIEITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 343 
 
 of ordinary reasoning, the phenomena 
 could be attributed. 
 
 Other committees of gentlemen arrived 
 at the same conclusion ; whereupon a com- 
 mittee of ladies was appointed, who took 
 the young lady mediums into a private 
 room of a hotel to which they were 
 strangers, and there disrobed and searched 
 them. The mediums were then made to 
 stand on pillows, with handkerchiefs tied 
 tightly around their ankles. The raps 
 were repeated, and intelligent answers to 
 unpremeditated questions were rapped in 
 the usual way. 
 
 But the manifestations ' spiritual ' 
 manifestations, as they were now, and 
 have since continued to be, called were 
 not long confined to the Fox family. In- 
 deed, so rapid and wide-spread was the 
 development of the phenomena, that, in 
 
 D. D. HOME. 
 
 the short space of two or three years, it 
 was calculated that the number of recog- 
 nized " media " practicing in various parts 
 of the United States, was not less than 
 thirty thousand. 
 
 Various theories continued to be pro- 
 pounded as from the first, though now 
 more learned and scientific, in explanation 
 of the moving of tables and other pon- 
 derable substances and objects, as well as 
 the knockings. Concerning the latter, it 
 has been argued that, in spiritualism, it is 
 the mind of the person charging the 
 medium who exhibits all the intelligence 
 or it may be some one en rapport after the 
 medium has been charged to that degree 
 that the electricity overflows in raps, and 
 
 these raps are of the same character as 
 detonations of electricity when a positive 
 and negative cloud meet in mid air and 
 produce thunder. 
 
 Another theory of the cause of the rap- 
 pings is that of a too great redundancy of 
 electricity congregated upon the involun- 
 tary nerves, through passivity of mind, 
 and thus imparting to them extraordinary 
 force. 
 
 The theory presented with such philo- 
 sophical ability by Professor Mahan, is, 
 that there is in nature a power, termed, 
 scientifically, the odylic or mesmeric force, 
 which is identical with the cause of all the 
 mesmeric and clairvoyant phenomena, on 
 the one hand, and with the immediate 
 cause of these manifestations, on the other ; 
 that by reference to the properties and 
 laws of this force as developed in the spirit 
 circles, and to its relations to the minds 
 constituting the same, every kind of spirit 
 phenomena can be most fully accounted 
 for, without the supposition of the presence 
 or agency of disembodied spirits ; and that 
 the entire real facts of spiritualism demand 
 the supposition that this force, in the pro- 
 duction of these communications, is con- 
 trolled exclusively, for the most part 
 unconsciously, by the minds in the circles, 
 and not by disembodied spirits out of the 
 same. 
 
 As indicating most clearly, according to 
 this theory, the presence and action of an 
 invisible but purely physical cause a 
 cause connected with the organism of par- 
 ticular individuals, its advocates do not 
 hesitate to cite all the various wonders of 
 spiritual manifestation, whether mental or 
 material, not excepting the astonishing 
 occurrences which transpired in Stamford, 
 Conn., in 1850, and which made the name 
 of the occupant of the house, Eev. Dr. 
 Phelps, for a long time so famous through- 
 out the land. In this case, the phenomena 
 consisted in the moving of articles of fur- 
 niture in a manner not only unaccounta- 
 ble, but baffling all description. 
 
 By Professor Agassiz, the knockings 
 and rappings were, from the very first, 
 pronounced a delusion ; an opinion shared, 
 
344 
 
 SPIKITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 perhaps, by the whole body of learned 
 men in the country. Professor Faraday, 
 of England, claimed to demonstrate that it 
 is by physical power, and not by any mag- 
 netic fluid, that tables move on being 
 pressed by the fingers. Herschel sug- 
 gested that there might be a fluid which 
 served to convey the orders of the brain to 
 the muscles. 
 
 Suffice it to add, that, as no authority 
 in respect to these phenomena is held in 
 higher repute among the disciples of the 
 new system, than that of Mr. Andrew 
 Jackson Davis, the Poughkeepsie seer, his 
 opinion that the producing agencies, in the 
 moving of tables and other inorganic sub- 
 stances by spirits, are terrestrial magnet- 
 ism and electricity, may be cited as rep- 
 resenting the views of a large portion, 
 probably, of the spiritualists in this 
 country. 
 
 The variety of phenomena known by the 
 general term of ' spiritual manifestations,' 
 is very numerous. Some of the principal, 
 as enumerated by Mr. Ballou under five 
 several distinctions, and which is perhaps 
 as fair and complete an exposition as the 
 literature of spiritualism affords, are the 
 following : 
 
 First making peculiar noises, indica- 
 tive of more or less intelligence, such as 
 knockings, rappings, jarrings, creakings, 
 tickings, imitation of many sounds known 
 in the different vicissitudes of human life, 
 musical intonations, and, in rare instances, 
 articulate speech. Some of these various 
 sounds are very loud, distinct, and forcible ; 
 others are low, less distinct, and more 
 gentle, but all audible realities. 
 
 Second the moving of material sub- 
 stances, with like indications of intelli- 
 gence, such as tables, sofas, light-stands, 
 chairs, and various other articles, shaking, 
 tipping, sliding, raising them clear of the 
 floor, placing them in new positions, (all 
 this sometimes in spite of athletic and 
 heavy men doing their utmost to hold 
 them down ;) taking up the passive body of 
 a person, and carrying it from one position 
 to another across the room, through mid- 
 air ; opening and shutting doors ; thrum- 
 
 ming musical instruments ; undoing well- 
 clasped pocket-books, taking out their 
 contents, and then, by request, replacing 
 them again ; writing with pens, pencils, 
 and other substances, both liquid and solid 
 sometimes on paper, sometimes on com- 
 mon slates, and sometimes on the ceilings 
 of a room, etc. 
 
 Third causing catalepsy, trance, clair- 
 voyance, and various involuntary muscu- 
 lar, nervous, and mental activity in medi- 
 ums, independent of any will or conscious 
 psychological influence by men in the flesh, 
 and then through such mediums, speak- 
 ing, writing, preaching, lecturing, philoso- 
 phizing, prophesying, etc. 
 
 Fourth presenting apparitions: in 
 some instances, of a spirit hand and arm ; 
 in others, of the whole human form ; and 
 in others, of several deceased persons con- 
 versing together ; causing distinct touches 
 to be felt by the mortal living, grasping 
 and shaking their hands, and giving many 
 other sensible demonstrations of their 
 existence. 
 
 Fifth through these various manifes- 
 tations communicating to men in the flesh 
 numberless affectionate and intelligent 
 assurances of an immortal existence, mes- 
 sages of consolation, and annunciations of 
 distant events unknown at the time, but 
 subsequently corroborated ; predictions of 
 forthcoming occurrences subsequently ver- 
 ified, forewarnings against impending 
 danger, medicinal prescriptions of great 
 efficacy, wholesome reproofs, admonitions, 
 and counsels, expositions of spiritual, theo- 
 logical, religious, moral, and philosophical 
 truths appertaining to the present and 
 future states, and important to human wel- 
 fare in every sphere of existence, some- 
 times comprised in a single sentence, and 
 sometimes in an ample book. 
 
 It is taught by writers on spiritualism, 
 that it is a grand religious reformation, 
 designed and destined to correct theologi- 
 cal errors, to remove sectarian barriers, 
 and to excite more warmly the religious 
 element among mankind. This claim is 
 denied by those opposed to the movement, 
 who charge it as aiming, or tending, to do 
 
SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 345 
 
 away with the Bible, to overthrow Chris- 
 tianity, and destroy the Church and its 
 institutions, indeed, to break up the 
 whole frame-work of society as at present 
 constituted. The discussion has engaged, 
 in the press and pulpit, and oil either side, 
 the profoundest adepts in theology, science, 
 and philosophy ; and, though none dispute 
 that fraud and imposture have played their 
 
 their own thoughts, without any knowl- 
 edge at the time, on his part, of either 
 ideas or subject ; the hand-writing of each 
 was unlike that of the other, and, though 
 both were written by Dr. Dexter's hand, 
 they were both wholly unlike his, and this 
 characterized the whole of the volumin- 
 ous communications, according to these 
 authors' statement. 
 
 CORA L. T. HATCH. 
 
 A. J. DAVI8. 
 
 JTTDGE EDMONDS. 
 
 part, in multitudes of instances, in con- 
 nection with the matter, it is admitted 
 that the phenomena, under reputable 
 auspices, exhibit great, novel, and aston- 
 ishing facts. 
 
 Since the initiation of the movement, or 
 phenomena, in 1847, by the Misses Fox, 
 the most distinguished mediums have been 
 A. J. Davis, D. D. Home, Mrs. Cora L. V. 
 Hatch, etc., etc. ; the most widely cele- 
 brated authors, A. J. Davis, Judge Ed- 
 monds, and George T. Dexter, Adin Ballou, 
 and some others. The learned work bear- 
 ing the joint authorship of Judge Ed- 
 
 monds and Dr. Dexter is generally pro- 
 nounced one of the ablest productions, 
 devoted to the philosophy of these modern 
 wonders. A notable feature in the con- 
 tents of this work are the alleged communi- 
 cations received from Sweden borg and Lord 
 Bacon, written, in their own hand-writing, 
 from the spirit world, they using Dr. 
 Dexter's hand as the instrument to convey 
 
 The different kinds of mediums are 
 classified, by Judge Edmonds, into those 
 who disturb the equanimity of material 
 objects, without any intelligence being 
 necessarily or usually communicated 
 through them, for the purpose of address- 
 ing to the human senses the idea of a 
 physical communion with a power out of 
 and beyond mere mortal agency; con- 
 nected with this class, though with the 
 addition of an intelligent communion 
 between the mortal and the invisible 
 power, are the mediums for table-tippings; 
 another class consists of those who write, 
 
 their hands being affected ty a power 
 manifestly beyond their own control, and 
 not emanating from or governed by their 
 own will ; a fourth species are speaking 
 mediums, some of whom speak when in 
 the trance state* and some when in their 
 
346 
 
 SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 
 
 normal or natural condition, in which 
 cases the invisible intelligence seems to 
 take possession of the mind of the medium, 
 and compel the utterance of its ideas, 
 sometimes in defiance of the will of the 
 mortal through whom it is talking ; 
 impressible mediums are those who re- 
 ceive impressions in their minds to 
 which they give utterance, either by 
 writing or speaking, their faculties be- 
 ing entirely under their own control ; still 
 another class are those who see, or seem 
 
 to see, the objects presented to their con- 
 sideration. 
 
 In all the nations of Europe, Asia, and 
 Africa, the phenomena of spiritualism 
 have become widely prevalent; and, only 
 ten years subsequent to the first develop- 
 ment, its newspapers estimated the number 
 of its avowed adherents at one and a half 
 million, with one thousand public advo- 
 cates, forty thousand public and private 
 mediums, and a literature of five hundred 
 different works. 
 
XLIII. 
 
 GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZU- 
 MAS, AS THE CONQUEROR OF MEXICO. 1847. 
 
 General Taylor's Unbroken Series of Victorious Battles, from Palo Alto to Buena Vista. Flight of 
 Santa Anna in the Dead of Midnight The Stars and Stripes Float Triumphantly from the Towers 
 of the National Palace. First Foreign Capital Ever Occupied by the United States Army. Peace 
 on the Invaders' Own Terms. Original Irritation between the Two Powers. Disputed Points of 
 Boundary. Mexico Refuses to Yield. General Taylor Sent to the Rio Grande. A Speedy Collision. 
 Declaration of War by Congress. Santa Anna Leads the Mexicans. Battles of Palo Alto and 
 Resaca de la Palma. Raging Fight at Monterey : Its Fall. Santa Anna's War-like Summons It is 
 Treated with Contempt. His Awful Defeat at Buena Vista. Doniphan's March of Five Thousand 
 Miles. Vera Cruz, Cerro Gordo, Contreras, Churubusco, etc. Scott's Order, " On to Mexico ! " 
 Huzzas and a Quickstep. Terrific Storming of Chapultepec. Scott Holds the Key to Mexico. 
 The Last Obstacle Overcome. Grand Entrance of the Victors. Territorial Gain to the United States. 
 
 Under the favor of God, the valor of this army, after many glorious victories, has hoisted the flag of our country in the Capital of Mex- 
 too, and on the Palace of it* Government." GE.VEKAL SCOTT TO 1113 ARur, SEPTEMBER 14th. 
 
 v^X%\, 
 
 
 J STORMIXG OF CHAPITLTEPEC. 
 
 HIEFLY, if not solely, owing ^ 
 ' to the annexation of Texas 
 
 to the United States, war broke out between 
 this country and Mexico, in 1846, under proc- ""'^WA^ 
 
 lamation by President Polk, in pursuance of formal declar- "" 
 ation of hostilities in May of that year, promulgated by 
 congress. Claiming Texas as a portion of its own domain, 
 Mexico had sturdily resisted its separation from her con- 
 trol, either as an independent power, or as a portion of the 
 United States. But, being forced, finally, to yield these points, 
 fresh troubles soon succeeded, arising from the disputed question of 
 boundary. Mexico claimed to the Neuces, and the United States '\^.- 
 to the Rio Grande del Norte. Santa Anna, then at the head of jj 
 Mexican affairs, insisted on the vigorous assertion of Mexico's ' 
 
348 GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 
 
 claims, and military force was brought into 
 requisition to this end. It was this pro- 
 ceeding, as alleged, that induced counter 
 military movements on the part of the 
 United States, under the lead of General 
 Taylor, and in a short time collision and 
 open war followed, the belligerents putting 
 their best armies and officers into the field, 
 the contest finally culminating in the occu- 
 pancy of the Mexican capital by a victori- 
 ous army under General Scott, and in the 
 signing of a treaty by which the United 
 States came into possession for a mere 
 nominal pecuniary equivalent of the 
 whole of Texas, New Mexico, and Upper 
 California. 
 
 The principal battles and other military 
 movements which rendered this conflict 
 memorable, were tbe siege of Fort Brown, 
 
 the battles of Palo Alto and Eesaca de la 
 Palma, the fall of Monterey, the battle of 
 Buena Vista, Doniphan's expedition to 
 Chihuahua and march of five thousand 
 miles, the reduction of Vera Cruz, the bat- 
 tles of Cerro Gordo, Contreras, and Chu- 
 rubusco, the storming of Chapultepec, and 
 the entrance of Scott into the halls of 
 the Montezumas, as the conqueror of the 
 enemy's chief city, the first instance of a 
 foreign capital being entered by the army 
 of the United States. The latter event, 
 and the battle of Buena Vista, formed the 
 most important movements during the 
 campaign, and have earned a conspicuous 
 
 place as have also their heroes, Taylor, 
 and Scott, in American military history. 
 It was on the twenty-second of February, 
 1847, that Taylor made those final dispo- 
 sitions of his troops that ended in the fa- 
 mous victory of Buena Vista, and which, 
 in the brief lapse of three years thereafter, 
 carried the victor to the presidential chair, 
 as chief magistrate of the United States. 
 
 The first evidence directly afforded the 
 United States troops of the presence of 
 Santa Anna, was a white flag, dimly seen 
 fluttering in the breeze, and which proved, 
 on the arrival of its bearer, to be what the 
 Americans ironically termed a benevolent 
 missive from Santa Anna, proposing to 
 General Taylor terms of unconditional sur- 
 render ; promising good treatment ; stat- 
 ing that his force amounted to twenty 
 thousand men ; that the defeat of the 
 invaders was inevitable, and that, to 
 spare the effusion of blood, his propo- 
 sition should be complied with. 
 
 But, strange to say, the American 
 general showed the greatest ingrati- 
 tude ; evinced no appreciation what- 
 ever of Santa Anna's kindness, and 
 informed him, substantially, that 
 whether his force amounted to twenty 
 thousand or fifty thousand, it was 
 equally a matter of indifference the 
 terms of adjustment must be ar- 
 ranged by gunpowder. Santa Anna's 
 rage at this response to his conceited 
 summons was at the boiling point. 
 
 Skirmishing continued until night- 
 fall, and was renewed at an early hour the 
 next morning, the struggle deepening in in- 
 tensity as the day advanced, until the battle 
 raged with great fury along the entire line. 
 After various successes and reverses, the 
 fortunes of the day showed on the side of 
 the Americans. Santa, Anna saw the 
 crisis, and true to his instincts, sought to 
 avert the result by craft and cunning. He 
 sent a white flag to General Taylor, in- 
 quiring, in substance, " what he wanted." 
 This was at once believed to be a mere 
 ruse to gain time and re-collect his men ; 
 but the American general thought fit to 
 notice it, and General Wool was deputed 
 
GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 349 
 
 to meet the representative of Santa Anna, 
 and to say to him that what was " wanted " 
 was peace. Before the interview could be 
 had, the Mexicans treacherously re-opened 
 their fires. The flag, however, had accoin- 
 
 plished the ends which its wily originator 
 designed a re-enforcement of his cavalry 
 during the parley, and, with his courage 
 thus restored, he determined to charge 
 Taylor's line. Under cover of their artil- 
 lery, horse and foot advanced upon the 
 American batteries, the latter, against all 
 disadvantages, nobly maintaining their po- 
 sitions, by the most brilliant and daring 
 efforts. Such was the rapidity of their 
 transitions that officers and pieces seemed 
 empowered with ubiquity, and upon cav- 
 alry and infantry alike, wherever they 
 appeared, they poured so destructive a fire 
 as to silence the enemy's artillery, compel 
 his whole line to fall back, and soon to 
 assume a sort of subdued movement, indi- 
 cating anything but victory. 
 
 Again, the spirits of Taylor's troops rose 
 high. The Mexicans appeared thoroughly 
 routed; and while their regiments and 
 divisions were flying in dismay, nearly all 
 the American light troops were ordered 
 forward, and followed them with a most 
 terrible fire, mingled with shouts which 
 rose above the roar of artillery. The pur- 
 suit, however, was too hot, and, as it 
 evinced, too clearly, the smallness of the 
 pursuing force, the Mexicans, with a sud- 
 
 denness which was almost magical, rallied, 
 and turned back with furious onset. They 
 came in myriads, and for a while the car- 
 nage was dreadful on both sides, though 
 there was but a handful to oppose to the 
 frightful masses so rapidly hurled into the 
 combat, and which could no more be re- 
 sisted than could an avalanche of thunder- 
 bolts. " All is lost ! " was the cry or at 
 least the thought of many a brave Amer- 
 ican, at this crisis. 
 
 Thrice during the day, when all seemed 
 lost but honor, did the artillery, by the 
 ability with which it was maneuvered, roll 
 back the tide of success from the enemy, 
 and give such overwhelming destructive- 
 ness to its effect, that the army was saved 
 and the glory of the American arms main- 
 tained. 
 
 The battle had now raged with variable 
 success for nearly ten hours, and, by a sort 
 of mutual consent, after the last carnage 
 wrought among the Mexicans by the artil- 
 lery, both parties seemed willing to pause 
 upon the result. Night fell. Santa Anna 
 had been repulsed at all points ; and ere 
 the sun rose 'again upon the scene, the 
 Mexicans had disappeared, leaving behind 
 them only the hundreds of their dead and 
 dying, whose bones were to whiten their 
 native hills. The loss was great on both 
 sides, in this long, desperate, and sanguin- 
 ary conflict, the force of the Mexicans be- 
 ing as five to one of the Americans. 
 
 Santa Anna was bold and persevering, 
 and turned Taylor's left flank by the 
 mountain paths with a large force, when 
 all seemed to be lost. But the light artil- 
 lery and the mounted men saved the day. 
 Throughout the action General Taylor was 
 where shots fell hottest and thickest, two 
 of which passed through his clothes. He 
 constantly evinced the greatest quickness 
 of perception, fertility of resource, and a 
 cool, unerring judgment not to be baffled. 
 
 One of the bravest deeds of this struggle 
 was that performed by Major Dix, who, 
 when the air was rent with shouts of 
 triumph from the enemy, over the inglori- 
 ous flight of an Indiana regiment, dashed 
 off in pursuit of the deserters, and seizing 
 
350 GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 
 
 the colors of the regiment as he reached 
 them, appealed to the men to know 
 whether they had determined thus to turn 
 their backs upon their country ! He was 
 answered by three cheers. A portion of 
 the regiment immediately rallied around 
 him, and was reformed by the officers. 
 Dix, in person, then led them towards the 
 enemy, until one of the men volunteered 
 to take the flag. 
 
 Admiration and honor were showered 
 upon Taylor, who had thus, with his little 
 army of between four and five thousand 
 men, met and completely vanquished 
 Santa Anna, the greatest of Mexican sol- 
 
 diers, with his army of twenty thousand. 
 It was a contest which, with his other vic- 
 torious battles at Palo Alto, Kesaca de la 
 Palma, and Monterey, covered the hitherto 
 almost unknown name of Taylor with a 
 halo of glory from one end of the land to 
 the other; gave immense prestige to 
 American arms ; and created, perhaps too 
 largely, the feeling that the conquering 
 party might now go on and overrun the 
 country, and dictate its own terms of peace. 
 But there were strong positions yet to be 
 mastered, and gory fields yet to be won, 
 before that most of all coveted achieve- 
 ment the capture and occupation of the 
 Mexican capital was to crown the suc- 
 
 cesses of the invaders and prove that the 
 enemy's country was at their mercy. 
 
 As events proved, the last named great 
 act in this military drama was reserved 
 for General Scott, who had been appointed 
 by the government at Washington, su- 
 preme commander of the army in Mexico. 
 Taylor had led the way, by his splendid 
 movements and victories, for the accom- 
 plishment of all that yet remained to be 
 done. Vera Cruz, the key to the Mexican 
 capital, with the almost impregnable fort- 
 ress of San Juan de Ulloa, soon fell into 
 the hands of the Americans, after a terri- 
 bly destructive cannonade. A similar fate 
 befell nearly all the principal ports. 
 Again was Santa Anna defeated on 
 the embattled heights of Cerro 
 Gordo, in which tremendous strong- 
 hold he had attempted with fifteen 
 thousand men, but in vain, to op- 
 pose Scott, who had only six thou- 
 sand. To this succeeded the battle 
 of Contreras, in which the Mexi- 
 cans, led by General Valencia, who 
 had an army of some eight thou- 
 sand, were routed with terrible 
 slaughter, by Gen. P. F. Smith. 
 In a few months from this time, 
 the plains of Churubusco witnessed 
 another battle, the deadly carnage 
 and mortal results of which, no 
 pen could adequately portray, the 
 Americans taking possession of 
 every point, as triumphant victors. 
 The prize was not yet won, but orders 
 were in due time given by General Scott 
 to march to the capital. Deafening cheers 
 and a quickstep greeted this order, on its 
 promulgation. Two strong positions of 
 the enemy were, however, yet to be over- 
 come, namely, that of Moliuo del Rey, and 
 the strong castle of Chapultepec, before 
 the city could be reached. The first- 
 named was captured by General Worth, 
 after a most bloody fight, and with the 
 loss of nearly one-fourth of his men, the 
 latter having at last found it necessary to 
 burst open an entrance, and with the bay- 
 onet to meet the enemy hand to hand. 
 New and more terrible struggles wer 
 
GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 351 
 
 soon to take place. On the eleventh of 
 September, the cavalry were ordered to 
 make a movement on the sloping plains 
 above Chapultepec and Tacubaya, and 
 attack, if possible, the latter place. How- 
 ever, the enemy kept a diligent look-out, 
 and no sooner did the cavalry begin to 
 move our of town than their scouts ap- 
 peared upon the spot, and, soon after, a 
 small force appeared to dispute the ap- 
 proach. 
 
 On the twelfth, the cannon began to 
 roar again, south and west, at the garita 
 of San Antonio and Chapultepec, but it 
 soon became evident to them where the 
 real attack was intended, for on the south 
 side the fire was slackened, and after a 
 
 time it left off altogether while, on the 
 west it grew more and more violent, until, 
 at about eight o'clock, the Americans 
 opened their battery of mortars upon the 
 castle, and began to throw shell with terri- 
 ble precision. 
 
 General Pillow's approach, on the west 
 side, lay through an open grove, filled with 
 sharpshooters, who were speedily dis- 
 lodged ; when, being up with the front of 
 the attack, and emerging into open space, 
 at the foot of a rocky acclivity, that gal- 
 lant leader was struck down by an agoniz- 
 ing wound. The broken acclivity was still 
 to be ascended, and a strong redoubt, 
 midway, to be carried, before reaching the 
 castle on the heights. The advance of the 
 
 brave men, led by brave officers, though 
 necessarily slow, was unwavering, over 
 rocks, chasms, and mines, and under the 
 hottest fire of cannon and musketry. The 
 redoubt now yielded to resistless valor. 
 
 Shout after shout rung wildly through 
 the victorious ranks of the assailants, 
 announcing to the castle the fate that 
 impended. The Mexicans were steadily 
 driven from shelter to shelter. The re- 
 treat allowed no time to fire a single mine, 
 without the certainty of blowing up friend 
 and foe. Those who, at a distance, at- 
 tempted to apply matches to the long 
 trains, were shot down by the Americans. 
 There was death below as well as above 
 ground. At length the ditch and wall of 
 the main work were reached, and the 
 scaling-ladders were brought up and 
 planted by the storming parties. Some of 
 the daring spirits in the assault were cast 
 down, killed or wounded ; but a lodgment 
 was soon made, streams of heroes followed, 
 all opposition was overcome, and several of 
 the regimental colors were flung out from 
 the upper walls, amid long continued 
 shouts and cheers. All this sent dismay 
 into the capital. To the Americans, no 
 scene could have been more animating or 
 glorious. 
 
 General Quitman performed a distin- 
 guished part in these movements, nobly 
 sustained by his officers and men. 
 Simultaneously with the movement on 
 the west, he gallantly approached the 
 south-east of the same works over a cause- 
 way with cuts and batteries, and defended 
 by an army strongly posted outside, to the 
 east of the works. These formidable 
 obstacles had to be faced, with but little 
 shelter for troops or space for maneuvering. 
 Deep ditches, flanking the causeway, 
 made it difficult to cross on either side into 
 the adjoining meadows ; and these, again, 
 were intersected by other ditches. The 
 storming party, however, carried two 
 batteries that were in the road, took some 
 guns, with many prisoners, and drove the 
 enemy posted behind in support; they 
 then crossed the meadows in front, under 
 a heavy fire, and entered the outer 
 
3fi2 GENEKAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 
 
GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. 353 
 
 inclosure of Chapultepec just in time to 
 join in the final assault from the west. 
 Captain Barnard, of the voltgeur regiment, 
 was the first to plant a regimental color. 
 
 During the period covered by these 
 exciting scenes, the firing in and about 
 the castle had three times apparently 
 reached its crisis or climax, and then 
 suddenly slackened, inducing the belief in 
 some quarters that the assault had been 
 beaten off; but, at about half-past nine 
 o'clock the Mexican flag suddenly disap- 
 peared, a blue flag was shown, and directly 
 after the stars and stripes arose and waved 
 over the conquered fortress. Immediately 
 after having taken the place, the Americans 
 hauled down the light field-pieces from the 
 castle, and fired them upon the retreating 
 enemy, upon whose heels they closely 
 followed. The firing came nearer, and at 
 about two o'clock in the afternoon, the 
 innermost intrenchments began to open 
 their fire, and balls to whistle in the town. 
 
 It was not long before the forces of 
 Worth and Quitman the former proceed- 
 ing by the San Cosme aqueduct, and the 
 latter along that of Belen. Scott joined 
 the advance of Worth, within the suburb, 
 and beyond the turn at the junction of the 
 aqueduct with the great highway from the 
 west to the gate of San Cosme. In a short 
 time, the troops were engaged in a street 
 fight against the Mexicans posted in 
 gardens, at windows, and on housetops 
 all flat, with parapets. Worth ordered 
 forward the mountain howitzers of 
 Cadwallader's brigade, preceded by skir- 
 mishers and pioneers, with pickaxes and 
 crowbars, to force windows and doors, or 
 to burrow through walls. The assailants 
 were soon in unequality of position fatal 
 to the enemy. By eight o'clock in the 
 evening, Worth had carried two batteries 
 in this suburb. There was but one more 
 obstacle, the San Cosme gate (custom- 
 house), between him and the great square 
 in front of the cathedral and palace the 
 
 heart of the city. There was a lull in the 
 firing, and already the inhabitants were 
 hoping to pass a quiet night, when 
 suddenly the dull roar of a heavy mortar 
 resounded close by the town, and shells 
 with fiery tails came with portentous 
 energy. The gallant Quitman pressed on, 
 regardless of gates, batteries, or citadels, 
 and compelled Santa Anna to break up in 
 the middle of the night and retreat with 
 all his force, leaving the city to the mercy 
 of the victors. He turned northward to 
 the villa of Gaudaloupe, and after a short 
 rest retreated on to San Juan de 
 Teotihuacan. 
 
 On Tuesday morning, September four- 
 teenth, 1847, the first American column 
 made its appearance in the streets of 
 Mexico, and came on in dense masses 
 through the principal avenues Calle San 
 Francisco, del Correo, de la Professa, and 
 the two Plateros, in a straight line from 
 the Alameda up to the palace and Plaza- 
 Mayor. The Mexican colors now disap- 
 peared from the palace, a regimental flag 
 took their place, and directly afterwards 
 the stars and stripes were flung out and 
 waved proudly from the Halls of the 
 Montezumas, the first strange banner 
 that had ever floated from that palace 
 since the conquest of Cortez. 
 
 On entering the palace, one of General 
 Scott's first acts was to require from his 
 comrades-in-arms, their thanks and grat- 
 itude to God, both in public and pri- 
 vate worship, for the signal triumphs 
 which they had achieved for their coun- 
 try ; warning them also against disorders, 
 straggling, and drunkenness. 
 
 Thus was the prowess of American arms 
 successfully asserted, the conquered nation 
 being also compelled to cede the immenselj 
 valuable territory of New Mexico and 
 Upper California to the United States, 
 and accepting the lower Rio Grande, from 
 its mouth to El Paso, as the boundary of 
 Texas. 
 
XLIV. 
 
 EXPEDITION TO THE RIVER JORDAN AND THE DEAD 
 SEA, BY LIEUT. W. F. LYNCH. 1847. 
 
 The Sacred River Successfully Circumnavigated and Surveyed. Twenty Days and Nights Upon the 
 " Sea of Death." It is Explored, and Sounded, and Its Mysteries Solved. Strange Phenomena and 
 Unrelieved Desolation of the Locality. Important Results to Science. Zeal in Geographical 
 Research. Interest in the Holy Land. American Inquiry Aroused. Equipment of Lynch's 
 Expedition. On Its Way to the Orient Anchoring Under Mount Carmel. Passage Down 
 the Jordan. It is Traced to Its Source. Wild and Impressive Scenery. Rose Colored 
 Clouds of Judea. Configuration of the Dead Sea. Dense, Buoyant, Briny Waters. Smarting of the 
 Hands and Face. Salt, Ashes, and Sulphureous Vapors, etc. Tradition Among the Arabs. Sad 
 Kate of Former Explorers. Temperature of This Sea. Submerged Plains at It Bottom. Sheeted 
 with Phosphorescent Foam. Topography, Width and Depth. "Apples of Sodom" Described. 
 The Pillar of Salt, Lot's Wife. 
 
 M But here, abore. around, below. 
 
 In mountain or in glen. 
 
 Nor tree, nor shrub, nor flower, 
 
 Nor aught of vegetative power, 
 
 The weaned eye may ken ; 
 
 But all its rocks at random thrown. 
 
 Black waves. bare crags, and heaps of etone." 
 
 'IELDING to the earnest desire of individuals and societies interested in the 
 advancement of geographical science, the United States government lent its 
 sanction and co-operative aid to the expedition planned in 1847, by Lieutenant 
 W. F. Lynch, an accomplished naval officer, for the exploration and 
 survey of the Dead Sea. The results of this expedition, so replete 
 with information of the most important and deeply interesting charac- 
 ter concerning a spot so singular in its sacred and historic associations, 
 as well as mysterious in its physical peculiarities, fully justified the 
 zeal with which it was advocated and the high auspices under which it 
 embarked. 
 
 The names of those whose services were accepted by the commander, 
 as members of the expedition, and whose qualifications were believed 
 to fit them peculiarly for the undertaking, were as follows: Lieu- 
 tenant, John B. Dale ; passed-midshipman, R. Aulick ; herbarist, 
 Francis E. Lynch ; master's mate, J. C. Thomas ; navigators, Messrs. 
 Overstock, Williams, Homer, Eead, Eobinson, Lee, Lock- 
 wood, Albertson, Loveland. At Constantinople, Mr. Henry 
 Bedloe associated himself with the expedition, and, on their 
 
 arrival at Beirut, Dr. H. J. Anderson became a member of the party, making the num- 
 ber sixteen in all. The services of an intelligent native Syrian, named Ameung, were 
 
EXPEDITION TO THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 355 
 
 also obtained at Beirut, who acted in the 
 capacity of interpreter, and rendered other 
 important aid. 
 
 By direction of the government at 
 Washington, the store-ship Supply was 
 placed at the disposal of Lieutenant Lynch, 
 and, as the vessel would otherwise be in 
 ballast, she was laden with stores for the 
 United States naval squadron, then in the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
 The Supply sailed from New York, 
 November twenty-first, and in about three 
 months anchored off Smyrna. From the 
 latter place, the officers of the expedition 
 proceeded to Constantinople in the 
 Austrian steamer, with the view of ob- 
 taining from the Sultan, through the 
 American minister, permission to pass 
 through a part of his dominions in Syria, 
 for the purpose of exploring the Dead Sea, 
 and of tracing the Jordan to its source. 
 The reception by the young sultan was in 
 all respects favorable; the authorization 
 was granted, and the sultan expressed 
 much interest in the undertaking, request- 
 ing to be informed of the results. 
 
 Thus armed with all necessary powers, 
 the officers returned to Smyrna, rejoining 
 the Supply. On the tenth of March, the 
 expedition sailed for the coast of Syria, 
 and, after touching at Beirut and other 
 places, came to anchor in the Bay of Acre, 
 urder Mount Carmel, March twenty- 
 eighth. The explorers, with their stores, 
 tents, and boats, having landed, an en- 
 campment was formed on the beach, 
 and the Supply departed to deliver to the 
 naval squadron the stores with which it 
 was laden, with orders to be back in time 
 for the re-embarkation of the exploring 
 party. 
 
 The first difficulty of a practical nature 
 was how to get the boats across to the Sea 
 of Tiberias. The boats, mounted on 
 trucks, were laden with the stores and 
 baggage of the party, and all was arranged 
 most conveniently only the horses could 
 not be persuaded to draw. The harness 
 was also found to be much too large for 
 the small Syrian horses ; and although 
 they manifestly gloried in the strange 
 
 equipment, and Toluntarily performed 
 sundry gay and fantastic movements, the 
 operation of pulling was altogether averse 
 to their habits and inclinations. At last, 
 the plan suggested itself of trying camels. 
 On being harnessed, three of the huge 
 animals to each truck, they marched off 
 with the trucks, the boats upon them, 
 with perfect ease, to the great delight of 
 the sojourners, and equal astonishment to 
 the natives. 
 
 All the arrangements being now 
 perfected, the travelers took their de- 
 parture from the coast, on the fourth of 
 April. They were accompanied by a fine 
 old man, an Arab nobleman, called Sherif 
 Hazza, of Mecca, the thirty-third lineal 
 descendant of the prophet. As he ap- 
 peared to be highly venerated by the 
 Arabs, Lieutenant Lynch thought it would 
 be a good measure to induce him to join 
 the party, and he was prevailed upon to 
 do so. Another addition to the party was 
 made next day in the person of a Bedouin 
 sheikh of the name of Akil, with ten well- 
 armed Arabs, or fifteen Arabs in all, 
 including servants. 
 
 But little information concerning the 
 Jordan could be obtained at Tiberias, and 
 it was therefore with considerable con- 
 sternation that the course of that river 
 was soon found to be interrupted by 
 frequent and most fearful rapids. Thus, 
 to proceed at all, it often became necessary 
 to plunge with headlong velocity down the 
 most appalling descents. So great were 
 the difficulties, that, on the second evening, 
 the boats were not more than twelve miles 
 in direct distance from Tiberias. 
 
 The banks of the Jordan were found 
 beautifully studded with vegetation ; the 
 cultivation of the ground, however, not so 
 extensive as it might be, and as it would 
 be, if the crops were secured to the 
 cultivator from the desperadoes who gcour 
 the region. The waters (f the Jordan, 
 clear and transparent except in the im- 
 mediate vicinity of the rapids and falls, 
 are well calculated for fertilizing the 
 valleys of its course. There are often 
 plenty of fish seen in its deep and shady 
 
356 
 
 EXPEDITION TO THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 course. The wide and deeply-depressed 
 plain through which the river flows, is 
 generally barren, treeless, and without 
 verdure ; and the mountains, or rather, 
 the cliffs and slopes of the risen uplands, 
 present, for the most part, a wild and 
 cheerless aspect. The verdure, such as it 
 is, may only be sought on and near the 
 lower valley or immediate channel of the 
 Jordan. No one statement can apply to 
 the scenery of its entire course ; but this 
 description given of the central part of the 
 river's course, is a fair specimen of the 
 kind of scenery which the passage of the 
 river offers. 
 
 Lieutenant Lynch describes the charac- 
 ter of the whole scene of this dreary 
 waste as singularly wild and impressive. 
 
 Looking out upon the desert, bright with 
 reverberated light and heat, was, he says, 
 like beholding a conflagration from a 
 window at twilight. Each detail of the 
 strange and solemn scene could be ex- 
 amined as through a lens. The moun- 
 tains towards the west rose up like 
 islands from the sea, with the billows 
 heaving at their bases. The rough peaks 
 caught the slanting sunlight, while sharp 
 black shadows marked the sides turned 
 from the rays. Deep rooted in the plain, 
 the bases of the mountains heaved the 
 garment of the earth away, and rose 
 abruptly in naked pyramidal crags, each 
 scar and fissure as palpably distinct as 
 though within reach, and yet were far 
 distant. Toward the south, the ridges 
 and higher masses of the range, as they 
 
 swept away in the distance, were aerial and 
 faint, and softened into dimness \>y a. pale 
 transparent mist. The plain that sloped 
 away from the bases of the hills was 
 broken into ridges and multitudinous cone- 
 like mounds, resembling tumultuous water 
 at the meeting of two adverse tides, and 
 presented a wild and checkered tract of 
 land, with spots of vegetation flourishing 
 upon the frontiers of irreclaimable sterility. 
 A low, pale, and yellow ridge of conical 
 hills marks the termination of the higher 
 terrace, beneath which sweeps gently this 
 lower plain with a similar undulating 
 surface, half redeemed from barrenness by 
 sparse verdure and thistle-covered hillocks. 
 Still lower was the valley of the Jordan 
 the sacred river ! its banks fringed with 
 perpetual verdure ; winding in a thousand 
 graceful mazes ; the pathway cheered 
 with songs of birds, and its own clear 
 voice of gushing minstrelsy ; its course a 
 bright line in this cheerless waste. 
 
 Concerning an earlier portion of the 
 river's course, about one-third from the 
 lake of Tiberias, Lieutenant Lynch says, 
 that, for hours in their swift descent the 
 boats floated down in silence the silence 
 of the wilderness. Here and there were 
 spots of solemn beauty. The numerous 
 birds sang with a music strange and 
 manifold; the willow branches were 
 spread upon the stream like tresses, and 
 creeping mosses and clambering weeds, 
 with a multitude of white and silvery little 
 flowers, looked out from among them ; and 
 the cliff swallow wheeled over the falls, or 
 went at his own will, darting through the 
 arched vistas, and shadowed and shaped 
 by the meeting foliage on the banks. 
 There was but little variety in the scenery 
 of the river; the streams sometimes 
 washed the bases of the sandy hills, at 
 other times meandered between low banks, 
 generally fringed with trees and fragrant 
 with blossoms. Some points presented 
 views exceedingly picturesque. The 
 western shore is peculiar from the high 
 calcarious limestone hills which form a 
 barrier to the stream when swollen by the 
 efflux of the Sea of Galilee, during the 
 
EXPEDITION TO THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 357 
 
 winter and early spring ; while the left 
 and eastern bank is low and fringed with 
 tamarisk and willow, and occasionally a 
 thicket of lofty cane, and tangled masses 
 of shrubs and creeping plants, gave it the 
 appearance of a jungle. 
 
 No less than twenty-two nights were 
 spent by the party upon the lake. During 
 this time the whole circuit of it was made, 
 including the back-water at the southern 
 extremity, which had never before been 
 explored in boats. Every object of in- 
 terest upon the banks was examined ; 
 and the lake was crossed and recrossed in 
 a zigzag direction through its whole 
 extent, for the purpose of sounding. The 
 figure of the lake, as sketched by the 
 party, is somewhat different from that 
 usually given to it. The breadth is more 
 uniform throughout ; it is less narrowed 
 at the northern extremity, and less 
 widened on approaching the peninsula in 
 the south. In its general dimensions it 
 is longer, but is not so wide as usually 
 represented. Its length by the map is 
 forty miles, by an average breadth of 
 about nine miles. The water, a nauseous 
 compound of bitters and salts. 
 
 A fresh north wind was blowing as they 
 rounded the point. They endeavored to 
 steer a little to the north of west, to make 
 a true west course, and threw the patent 
 log overboard to measure the distance ; 
 but the wind rose so rapidly that the 
 boats could not keep head to wind, and it 
 became necessary to haul the log in. The 
 sea continued to rise with the increasing 
 wind, which gradually freshened to a 
 gale, and presented an agitated surface of 
 foaming brine ; the spray, evaporating as 
 it fell, left incrustations of salt upon the 
 voyagers' clothes, as also their hands and 
 faces ; and, while it conveyed a prickly 
 sensation wherever it touched the skin, 
 was, above all, exceedingly painful to the 
 eyes. The boats, heavily laden, struggled 
 sluggishly at first; but when the wind 
 increased in its fierceness, from the density 
 of the water it seemed as if their bows 
 were encountering the sledge-hammers of 
 the Titans, instead of the opposing waves 
 of an angry sea. Finally, such was the 
 force of the wind, that it was feared both 
 boats must founder. Knowing that they 
 were losing advantage every moment, and 
 that with the lapse of each succeeding one 
 
 VALLEV OF THE JORDAN AND DEAD SEA. 
 
 After giving a sketch of the sights and 
 scenes attending the bathing of the pil- 
 grims in the Jordan, Lieutenant Lynch 
 sa3~s that the river, where it enters the sea, 
 is inclined towards the eastern shore ; and 
 there is a considerable bay between the 
 river and the mountains of Belka, in 
 Ammon, on the eastern shore of the sea. 
 
 the danger increased, they kept away for 
 the northern shore, in the hope of being 
 yet able to reach it, their arms, clothea 
 and skin, coated with a greasy salt, and 
 their eyes, lips and nostrils, smarting ex- 
 cessively. 
 
 But, although the sea had assumed a 
 threatening aspect, and the fretted 
 
358 
 
 EXPEDITION TO THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 mountains loomed terrific on either side, 
 and salt and ashes mingled with its sands, 
 and fetid sulphureous springs trickled down 
 its ravines, the explorers did not despair. 
 Awe struck, but not terrified, fearing the 
 worst yet hoping for the best, preparations 
 were made to spend a dreary night upon 
 the dreariest waste ever seen. There is a 
 tradition among the Arabs that no one 
 
 the exact topography of its shores, as- 
 certained the temperature, width, depth, 
 and velocity of its tributaries, collected 
 specimens of every kind, and noted the 
 winds, currents, changes of the weather, 
 and all atmospheric phenomena. The 
 bottom of this sea consists of two sub- 
 merged plains, an elevated and a depressed 
 one. Through the northern, and largest 
 
 BIGHT BANK OF THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 can venture upon this sea and live, and the 
 Bad fates of Costigan and Molyneux are 
 repeatedly cited to deter such attempts. 
 The first one spent a few days, the last 
 about twenty hours, and returned to the 
 place from whence he had embarked 
 without landing on its shores. One was 
 found dying upon the shore ; the other 
 expired, immediately after his return, of 
 fever contracted upon its waters. 
 
 The northern shore is an extensive mud 
 flat, with a sandy plain beyond, the very 
 type of desolation ; branches and trunks of 
 trees lay scattered in every direction 
 some charred and blackened as by fire, 
 others white with an incrustation of salt. 
 The north-western shore is an unmixed bed 
 of gravel, coming in a gradual slope from 
 the mountains to the sea. The eastern 
 coast is a rugged line of mountains, bare 
 of all vegetation a continuation of the 
 Hauran range, coming from the north, and 
 extending south beyond the scope of 
 vision, throwing out three marked and 
 seemingly equi-distant promontories from 
 its south-eastern extremities. 
 
 Lieutenant Lynch fully sounded the sea, 
 determined its geographical position, took 
 
 and deepest one, in a line corresponding 
 with the bed of the Jordan, is a ravine, 
 which also seems to correspond with the 
 Wady el-Jeib, or ravine within a ravine, at 
 the south end of the sea. 
 
 At one time, the sea was observed to 
 assume an aspect peculiarly somber. Un- 
 stirred by the wind, it lay smooth and 
 unruffled as an inland lake. The great 
 evaporation inclosed it in a thin transpar- 
 ent vapor, its purple tinge contrasting 
 strongly with the extraordinary color of 
 the sea beneath, and, where they blended 
 in the distance, giving it the appearance 
 of smoke from burning sulphur. It seemed 
 a vast caldron of metal, fused but motion- 
 less. The surface of the sea was one wide 
 sheet of phosphorescent foam, and the 
 waves, as they broke upon the shore, threw 
 a sepulchral light upon the dead bushes 
 and scattered fragments of rocks. The 
 exhalations and saline deposits are as un- 
 friendly to vegetable life as the waters are 
 to animal existence ; that fruit can be 
 brought to perfection there, may therefore 
 well be considered improbable. 
 
 The celebrated "Apples of Sodom," so 
 often spoken of by ancient and modern 
 
EXPEDITION TO THE DEAD SEA. 
 
 359 
 
 writers, are peculiar to this locality. The 
 plant is a perennial, specimens of which 
 have been found from ten to fifteen feet 
 high, and seven or eight feet in girth. It 
 has a gray, cork-like bark, with long and 
 oval leaves. The fruit resembles a large 
 smooth apple or orange, and when ripe is 
 of a yellow color. It is fair to the eye, 
 and soft to the touch, but when pressed, 
 it explodes with a puff, leaving in the 
 hand only the shreds of the rind and a few 
 fibers. It is, indeed, chiefly filled with 
 air like a bladder, which gives it the round 
 form, while in the center is a pod contain- 
 ing a quantity of fine silk with seeds. 
 When green, the fruit, like the leaves and 
 the bark, affords, when cut or broken, a 
 thickish, white milky fluid. This plant, 
 however, which from being in Palestine 
 found only on the shores of the Dead Sea, 
 was locally regarded as being the special 
 and characteristic product of that lake, is 
 produced also in Nubia, Arabia, and Persia. 
 Thus, this assumed mystery of the 'Sea of 
 Death ' is a simple phenomenon of nature, 
 easily explained; as is also that of the 
 alleged fire and smoke of the lake, being, 
 as already described, simply mist and 
 phosphorescence. 
 
 In regard to the pillar of salt into which 
 Lot's wife was turned, one of the most 
 remarkable facts recorded in holy writ, 
 and the continued existence of which has 
 always been asserted by the natives, as 
 well as by many travelers, Lieutenant 
 Lynch asserts that a pillar is there to be 
 seen ; the same, without doubt, to which 
 the reports of the natives and of travelers 
 refer. But that this pillar, or any like it, 
 is or was that into which Lot's wife was 
 transformed, cannot, of course, be demon- 
 strated. 
 
 It is a lofty, round pillar, standing ap- 
 parently detached from the general mass, 
 
 at the head of a deep, narrow, and abrupt 
 chasm. Immediately pulling in for the 
 shore, the lieutenant in company with Dr. 
 Anderson, went up and examined it. The 
 beach was a soft, slimy mud, encrusted 
 with salt, and a short distance from the 
 water, covered with saline fragments, and 
 flakes of bitumen. They found the pillar 
 to be of solid salt, capped with carbonate 
 of lime, cylindrical in front and pyramidal 
 behind. The upper or rounded part is 
 about forty feet high, resting on a kind of 
 oval pedestal, from forty to sixty feet above 
 the level of the sea. It slightly decreases 
 in size upwards, crumbles at the top, and is 
 one entire mass of crystallization. A prop 
 or buttress connects it with the mountain 
 behind, and the whole is covered with de- 
 bris of a light stone color. Its peculiar 
 shape is attributable to the action of the 
 winter rains. Lieutenant Lynch gives no 
 credit to the representations that connect 
 this pillar or column with Lot's wife. 
 And this is true of most travelers who have 
 visited the spot, though Montague gives it, 
 as his opinion, that Lot's wife having lin- 
 gered behind, she, while so lingering, be- 
 came overwhelmed in the descending fluid, 
 and formed the model or foundation for 
 this extraordinary column ; a lasting me- 
 morial of God's punishing a most deliber- 
 ate act of disobedience. 
 
 After an absence of a little more than a 
 year, Lieutenant Lynch returned, with his 
 companions, to the United States, the ex- 
 pedition having been highly successful in 
 accomplishing the purpose for which it 
 was planned ; comparing most favorably 
 in this respect with the results of explora- 
 tions made by othe. parties, and receiving 
 the highest encomiums of English review- 
 ers some of whose comments, throwing 
 additional light on various points involved 
 in The subject, are here presented. 
 
XLV. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF GOLD AT SUTTER'S MILL, CALIFOR- 
 NIA. 1848. 
 
 Widely Extended and Inexhaustible Deposits of the Precious Metal. The News Spreads like Wild-fire 
 to the Four Quarters of the Globe. Overwhelming Tide of Emigration from All Countries. Nucleus 
 of a Great Empire on the Pacific. California Becomes the El Dorado of the World and the Golden 
 Commonwealth of the American Union. First Practical Discovery of the Gold. On John A. Suiter's 
 Land. Found by J. W. Marshall. Simple Accident that Led to It. Marshall's Wild Excitement. 
 Shows Sutler the Golden Grains. A Dramatic Interview. The Discovery Kept Secret. How it 
 was Disclosed. A Real Wonder of the Age. Trials of the Early Emigrants. Their Bones Whiten 
 the Soil All Professions at the Mines Impetus Given to Commerce. Life Among the Diggers. 
 Disordered State of Society. Crimes, Outrages, Conflagrations. Scarcity, Fabulous Prices. Mining 
 by Machinery. Order and Stability Reached. Population in 1867, 600,000. Gold in Ten Yeari 
 1600,000,000. 
 
 " Gold to fetch, and gold to end, 
 Gold to borrow, and ^old to lend, 
 Gold to keep, and gold to spend, 
 And abundance of gold in/uturo" 
 
 rjsws 
 
 UIM.NO OrEKATlONS IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ITHOUT any exaggeration, it 
 iVA may be asserted that no modern 
 event has been the cause of so 
 much romance in real life, no 
 branch or sphere of trade, even though perfected by long 
 experience, has called into employment so many of the 
 means and instrumentalities of diversified human industry 
 and commercial intercourse, indeed, nothing within the 
 memory of man, except the achievements of steam and the 
 electric telegraph, approaches so nearly to magic, as the 
 discovery of gold, in luxurious deposits, o the shores of the 
 Pacific, and that, too, in the soil of a territory which, by 
 conquest and purchase, had but just fallen, like fruit golden 
 ripe, into the lap of the Great Eepublic. This 
 discovery occurred at Suiter's mill, in Coloma 
 county, California, in February, 
 1848. 
 
 Here, however, it deserves to 
 be stated as a matter of histori- 
 - cal interest, that gold placers 
 were worked in certain portions 
 of California, long before the 
 discovery just mentioned. The 
 
DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 361 
 
 evidence of this appears in a letter ad- 
 dressed by Abel Stearns, of Los Angeles, 
 to Louis R. Lull, secretary of the Califor- 
 nia Society of Pioneers. Mr. Stearns, who 
 went to California from Mexico in 1829, 
 states that on the 22d of November, 1842, 
 he sent by Alfred Robinson who returned 
 from California to the states by way of 
 Mexico twenty ounces California weight, 
 or eighteen and three-fourths ounces mint 
 weight, of placer gold, to be forwarded by 
 him to the United States mint at Phila- 
 delphia; the mint assay was returned 
 August 6, 1843. This gold was taken 
 from placers first discovered in March, 
 1842, by Francisco Lopez, a Californian, 
 at San Francisquito, about thirty-five miles 
 north-west from Los Angeles. It appears 
 that Lopez, while resting in the shade with 
 some companions, during a hunt for stray 
 horses, dug up some wild onions with his 
 sheath knife, and in the dirt discovered a 
 piece of gold. Searching further, he found 
 more pieces, and on returning to town an- 
 nounced his discovery. A few persons, 
 mostly Sonorians, who were accustomed to 
 placer mining in Mexico, worked in the 
 San Francisquito placer from this time 
 until the latter part of 1846 (when the 
 war with the United States disturbed the 
 country), taking out some six thousand to 
 eight thousand dollars in value, per annum. 
 The United States mint certificate for the 
 assay made for Mr. Stearns in 1843, is now 
 in the archives of the " Society of Califor- 
 nia Pioneers." 
 
 Before the great event which made the 
 year 1848 so memorable, the influence of 
 the United States had already become con- 
 spicuous iu the affairs of California, and 
 had in a degree prepared the way for what 
 was to follow. In the words of a British 
 writer, the United States spread her actual 
 influence long before she planted a flag as 
 the sign of her dominion. For two years 
 previous to the capture of Monterey, in 
 1846 V her authority had been paramount in 
 California. At length, toward the close of 
 the summer of 1845, Fremont appeared in 
 the neighborhood of Monterey, whose park- 
 like scenery trees scattered iii groups 
 
 over grassy hills, wide sloping fields, plan- 
 tations of oak and fir, red-tiled houses, 
 yellow-washed church, and white cottages 
 showed in pleasant contrast to the deso- 
 late region of the Rocky mountains he had 
 left. He was accompanied by some of his 
 trappers men of muscle and daring, 
 dressed in deer-skin coats, with formidable 
 rifles, and mounted on tall, spare horses. 
 They rode in Indian file through the out- 
 skirts ; their leader viewed the town, and 
 they vanished. Soon again he appeared, 
 with an ominous array of thirty-five fol- 
 lowers, encamped on a woody height ; was 
 commanded to depart, was driven to the 
 hills, pursued,, and again lost sight of. 
 An American ship then sailed into the 
 harbor. Fremont was again at Monterey. 
 The Californians foresaw the probable 
 progress of events, and perhaps secretly 
 desired the fostering protection of the 
 great republic. While balancing between 
 that and independence, two United States 
 vessels simultaneously entered the harbors 
 of Monterey and San Francisco, and in 
 July, 1846, the whole of California came 
 under the rule of America. A new era 
 was again opened. An immediate change 
 appeared. Industry was revived ; deserted 
 villages were repeopled; neglected lands 
 were again cultivated ; decaying towns 
 were renovated; and the busy hum of 
 toil broke that silence and lethargy which, 
 brooded over an ill-governed country. 
 
 But another and greater change was at 
 hand, to turn the tide of her fortunes into 
 a new, a wider, and more diffusive channel, 
 and to raise California from the condition 
 of a wild and isolated territory, to be the 
 very focus of the world's attention, the 
 spot where innumerable streams of emigra- 
 tion from the four quarters of the world, 
 from barbarous and civilized countries, 
 pouring across the Rocky Mountains, or 
 brought over the sea, from distant shores, 
 were to meet in tumultuous confluence, 
 and, flowing upon each other, form an 
 eddying whirlpool of excitement, such as 
 few countries on the globe, in any period 
 of their history, could present to the ob- 
 servation of mankind. 
 
362 
 
 DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 What is the character of this region, 
 independently of its newly discovered 
 treasures, at the period mentioned? It 
 is wealthy in many natural resources. Its 
 extent is great. From Cape Mendocino, 
 at the borders of the United States, to the 
 root of the peninsula, is seven hundred 
 miles, and Lower California thrusts out 
 its vast tongue to an almost equal dis- 
 tance. The old region is for the most 
 part a broken, hilly, and barren tract of 
 land ; but occasional plains of rich fertility' 
 alternate with the less favored tracts, and 
 these formed the sites of the old Jesuit 
 missions. Alta California extends from 
 the coast to the provinces of New Mexico. 
 Of the interior desert basin, little is known, 
 except that it is a wild, rocky, and woody 
 territory, watered by a few rivers, and 
 lakes, rising. periodically from the earth, 
 and peopled by wandering Indian hordes. 
 The Sierra Nevada, or snowy range, di- 
 vides the gold region from the great des- 
 ert basin ; and between this and the sea 
 lies another line of mountains, forming a 
 valley five hundred miles in length, wa- 
 tered by the Sacramento and the San 
 Joachim. These streams, forming a junc- 
 tion in the center of the valley, diverge 
 toward the sea, and pour in an united 
 current into the harbor of San Francisco 
 one of the noblest on the globe. The 
 aspect of the country is diversified, and 
 full of beauty. Green valleys, glittering 
 lakes, and verdant hills, extend along the 
 interior borders, backed by the rounded 
 spires of the snowy range, whose deep ra- 
 vines and caverns are just now peopled by 
 
 toiling gold hunters; and these arc drawing 
 more wealth from the bleakest, most bar- 
 ren, and most neglected spots, than a hus- 
 bandman in the course of many years could 
 derive from the most luxuriantly cultivated 
 land. Along the river banks, light grassy 
 slopes alternate with stony, broken, sandy 
 expanses, honey-combed as it were by 
 time, but now swarming with amateur 
 delvers. However, the country, as a 
 whole, is fertile ; producing readily grains, 
 vegetables, and fruits, with fine timber, 
 whilst immense pasture grounds afford 
 nourishment to the flocks and herds that 
 once formed the principal wealth of Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 U| to the year 1847, so comparatively 
 small were the gatherings of gold, in 
 various sections of the globe, that in 
 
 SUTTEB'S MILL, WHERE GOLD WAS FIRST DISCOVKRKl), IN 1848. 
 
DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 363 
 
 reckoning the average produce of the pre- 
 cious metal, of all parts of the New and 
 Old World for a series of years previous to 
 1847, it did not amount to the annual 
 value of twenty-five million dollars. 
 
 It was in September, 1847, that Captain 
 John A. Sutter, the great pioneer settler 
 in California, commenced an undertaking 
 
 JOHN A. SUTTER. 
 
 which led, by a very simple and ordinary 
 circumstance, to the first practical dis- 
 covery of the prodigiously valuable gold 
 mines of California the long-sought El 
 Dorado of ancient and modern times. 
 This undertaking consisted in the erection 
 of a saw-mill at Coloma, on a mountainous 
 spot about one thousand feet above the 
 level of the valley, where the Rio des los 
 Americanos pours down from the Sierra 
 Nevada to swell the united streams of the 
 Sacramento and San Joachim. 
 
 Such an enterprise, in such a region, at 
 a time when the political and social con- 
 dition of the country was so unsettled and 
 uncertain, indicated a mind of energy and 
 executive capacity, on the part of the 
 projector. And it was even so, in full 
 measure, in the case of Captain Sutter. 
 He is described, by his biographers, in the 
 annals of San Francisco, as an intelligent 
 Swiss emigrant, who sailed for and reached 
 New York, in July, 1834; but finally 
 settled and for several years resided in 
 Missouri. The wild west had always 
 possessed a charm for him, and he had re- 
 moved thither ; but now his adventurous 
 spirit looked still further towards the setting 
 
 sun, and roved along the waters that sped 
 their unknown way to the Pacific. Leav- 
 ing family and home, in company with Sir 
 William Drummond Stewart, he joined a 
 party, under the charge of Captain Tripps, 
 of the American Fur Company, and start- 
 ed for the broad valleys of California, 
 where he knew that rich and fertile lands 
 only awaited an industrious cultivator, and 
 where Providence had even a still richer 
 yielding field that he knew not of. He 
 left the trappers at their rendezvous on 
 the Wind river among the Kansas Rocky 
 mountains, and with a new party of six 
 decided on proceeding to their destination 
 by way of Oregon. Crossing the valley of 
 the Willamette, he finally arrived at Fort 
 Vancouver, and there ascertained that 
 innumerable delays must elapse before he 
 could reach California. Nothing daunted, 
 and apparently urged, like Columbus, to 
 accomplish his object despite of fate, 
 Captain Sutter sailed for the Sandwich 
 Islands, hoping to embark thence direct 
 for the Spanish coast. But when he 
 arrived there, no vessels were about to sail 
 in that direction. Again he threw down 
 the gauntlet to fate, and re-embarked for 
 Sitka Island, in Russian America, and 
 from that immense distance at last reached 
 Yerba Buena, July second, 1839. Not 
 permitted to land here, he again embarked, 
 and was finally allowed to set foot on 
 California soil at Monterey. Having suc- 
 ceeded in overcoming the Spanish opposi- 
 tion to foreign settlers, he obtained the 
 permission of Governor Alvarado to locate 
 himself in the valley of the Rio del Sacra- 
 mento; more readily granted, perhaps, 
 because it was then the abode of savage 
 Indians. He explored the Sacramento, 
 Feather and American rivers, and in 
 August, 1839, about eighteen months after 
 he commenced his journey, permanently 
 established himself on the latter river, 
 with a colony of only three whites and 
 eight Kanakas. In a short time, he re- 
 moved to the location afterwards known as 
 Sutter's Fort, and took possession of the 
 surrounding country under a Mexican 
 grant, giving to it the name of New 
 
364 
 
 DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Helvetia. From this point he cut a road 
 to the junction of the Sacramento and 
 American rivers, where he established a 
 quay or landing-place, on the site of which 
 has since been built the city of Sacramento. 
 Here he remained for several years, becom- 
 ing possessor of a large amount of land, 
 and rapidly carrying on various and ex- 
 tensive improvements. At one time he 
 had a thousand acres sown in wheat, and 
 owned eight thousand neat cattle, twq 
 thousand horses and mules, as many sheep, 
 and a thousand swine. He was appointed 
 alcalde of the district by Commodore 
 Stockton, and Indian agent by General 
 Kearney ; and with all his sympathies 
 with this country, his earnest wish was to 
 see California brought into the American 
 Union. 
 
 Among the followers of Sutter was 
 James W. Marshall, who emigrated from 
 New Jersey to Oregon in 1843, and a year 
 later went to California. By trade he 
 was a carpenter, and to him Captain 
 Sutter intrusted the erection of the saw- 
 mill at Coloma, where good water-power 
 and plenty of lumber had determined its 
 location. It was this enterprise which led 
 to the most famous discovery of gold ever 
 known in the history of the globe. How 
 this happened, has been differently related 
 by different authorities, but perhaps by 
 none more authentically than by Mr. 
 Dunbar, president of the Traveller's Club 
 of New York. The saw-mill was com- 
 pleted in January, 1848, and they had 
 just commenced sawing lumber, when, on 
 the night of February 2d, Marshall 
 appeared at Suiter's Fort, his horse in a 
 foam and himself presenting a singular 
 appearance all bespattered with mud, 
 and laboring under intense excitement. 
 
 And now ensued a scene which can 
 scarcely be exceeded in its elements of 
 dramatic representation. Marshall imme- 
 diately requested Captain Sutter to go 
 with him into a room where they could be 
 alone. This request was granted, and, 
 after the door was closed, Marshall asked 
 Captain Sutter if he was sure they would 
 not be disturbed, and desired that the 
 
 door might be locked. Captain Sutter did 
 not know what to make of his actions, and 
 he began to think it hazardous to lock 
 himself in the room with Marshall, who 
 appeared so uncommonly strange. Mar- 
 shall being satisfied at last that they 
 would not be interrupted, took from his 
 pocket a pouch from which he poured 
 upon the table about an ounce of yellow 
 grains of metal, which he thought would 
 prove to be gold. Captain Sutter inquired 
 where he got it. Marshall stated that in 
 the morning, the water being shut off from 
 the saw-mill race, as was customary, he 
 discovered, in passing through the race, 
 shining particles here and there on the 
 bottom. On examination, he found them 
 to be of metallic substance, and the 
 thought flashed over him that they might 
 be gold. How big with events was this 
 point of time ! Marshall stated that the 
 laborers white and Indian had picked 
 up some of the particles, and he thought 
 a large quantity could be collected. 
 
 Captain Sutter was at first quite 
 incredulous as to these particles being 
 gold, but happening to have a bottle of 
 nitric acid among his stores, he applied 
 the test, and, true enough, the yellow 
 grains proved to be pure gold. The great 
 discovery was made ! 
 
 The account given above agrees sub- 
 stantially with Captain Sutter's own 
 narrative of the event, namely : That 
 Marshall had contracted with him for the 
 building of a saw-mill for producing 
 lumber, on the south fork of the American 
 River, a feeder of the Sacramento. In 
 the course of his operations, Marshall had 
 occasion to admit the river water into the 
 tail-race, for the purpose of widening and 
 deepening it by the strength of the 
 current. In doing this, a considerable 
 quantity of mud, sand, and gravel, was 
 carried along with the stream, and 
 deposited in a heap at the foot of the tail- 
 race. Marshall, when one day examining 
 the state of his works, noticed a few 
 glittering particles lying near the edge of 
 the heap. His curiosity being aroused, 
 he gathered some of the sparkling objects; 
 
DISCOVEEY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 365 
 
 and he at once became satisfied of their 
 nature and the value of his discovery. All 
 trembling with excitement, he hurried to 
 his employer and told his story. Captain 
 Sutter at first thought it was a fiction, and 
 the teller only a mad fool. Indeed, lie 
 confesses that he kept a sharp eye upon 
 his loaded rifle, when he, whom he was 
 tempted to consider a maniac, was eagerly 
 disclosing the miraculous tale. However, 
 his doubts were all at once dispelled when 
 Marshall tossed on the table before him 
 some of the shining dust. 
 
 Not less interesting is the account given 
 of the manner in which the discovery 
 became public owing, as appears by Mr. 
 Dunbar's statement, to that which extracts 
 both wit and wisdom, as well as folly, from 
 the brain of man. After some examin- 
 ation, Captain Sutter became satisfied that 
 gold in considerable quantities would be 
 found in that neighborhood; and while the 
 reflections of Marshall were probably con- 
 fined to the idea of rapidly acquired 
 wealth for himself, Captain Sutter realized 
 at once how impossible it would be to hold 
 his laborers to their work in carrying on 
 his improvements, gathering his crops, and 
 avoid being overrun by new-comers, 
 should the gold prove abundant and the 
 discovery be promulgated. He therefore 
 begged the laborers to say nothing about 
 the gold for six weeks. His grist-mill and 
 some other improvements would then be 
 completed, and his crops all gathered. 
 The laborers promised to comply with his 
 request, and Captain Sutter returned home 
 on the fifth of February. But the great 
 secret could not long be retained. A 
 bottle of whiskey made it known. A 
 teamster, whom Captain Sutter had dis- 
 patched to the saw-mill with supplies, 
 heard of the discovery of gold, and 
 managed to obtain some of the precious 
 grains. On returning to the fort, he 
 immediately went to the neighboring 
 store, kept by a Mormon, and demanded a 
 bottle of whiskey. This was a cash article 
 in that country, and, as the teamster was 
 poor pay, the trader refused to sell him 
 the whiskey. The man declared h had 
 
 plenty of money, and exhibited some 
 grains of gold. The astonished trader, on 
 being satisfied that these were gold, gave 
 his customer the bottle of whiskey, and 
 earnestly inquired where he got the gold. 
 The teamster refused to make known the 
 secret till he had imbibed considerable of 
 the liquor, when his tongue was loosened, 
 and he told all about the discovery of gold 
 at Sutter's mill. The wonderful tale 
 spread like wild-fire throughout the 
 sparsely inhabited territory of California. 
 It ran up and down the Pacific coast, 
 traversed the continent, reached the 
 Atlantic shores, and in a short time the 
 story of California's golden treasures had 
 startled the whole civilized world. 
 
 Naturally enough, the first rumors, as 
 they spread abroad, were lightly tossed 
 
 JAMES W. MARSHALL. 
 
 aside ; but confirmation gave them 
 strength, and as each transmission of 
 intelligence to the United States carried 
 fresh accounts of new discoveries, an 
 enthusiastic ardor was awakened, and 
 within four months of that eventful day, 
 five thousand persons were delving on th 
 river's banks, on the slopes, amid the 
 ravines, hollows, and caverns in the valley 
 of the Sacramento. 
 
 And now, from the vast population of 
 the great republic, new streams of emigra- 
 tion broke at once to swell that current 
 which for years had set noiselessly toward 
 the valleys of California. Gradually, the 
 knowledge of the auriferous soil was borne 
 to the four quarters of the world, and from 
 
DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 all the ports of all nations sails were 
 spread toward the coasts of that wealthy 
 region. As by a magnetic impulse, the 
 sands of the Sacramento attracted popula- 
 tion. Lawyers, clergymen, physicians, 
 hotel-keepers, merchants, mechanics, 
 clerks, traders, farmers, left their occupa- 
 tions, and hurried with basket and spade 
 to the land that glittered. Homes and 
 houses were closed ; the grass threatened 
 to grow over whole streets ; deserted ships 
 swung on their anchors in silent harbors. 
 The garrison of Monterey abandoned arms 
 and took up the pickaxe and the shovel. 
 Trains of wagons constantly streamed 
 from the coast to the interior. Stores and 
 sheds were built along the river bank, 
 and crammed with provisions to be sold at 
 more than famine prices ; whole towns of 
 tents and bushy bowers sprang up as if 
 by magic ; every dawn rose upon a motley 
 toiling multitude, swarming in every nook 
 and corner of the modern El Dorado, and 
 every night was illuminated by the flames 
 of a thousand bivouacs. 
 
 Half-naked Indians, sharp-visaged Yan- 
 kees in straw hats and loose frocks, groups 
 of swarthy Spanish-Americans, old Dons 
 in the gaudy costume of a dead fashion, 
 gigantic trappers with their rude prairie 
 garb, and gentlemen traders from all the 
 States of the Union, with crowds of 
 Californian women, jostled in tumultuous 
 confusion through the gold district. 
 Every method, from the roughest to the 
 most ingenious, was devised for the rapid 
 accumulation of gold ; and the strange 
 spectacle was presented of a vast popula- 
 tion, without law, without authority, with- 
 out restraint, toiling together in amicable 
 companionship. But the duration of this 
 condition of things was brief. Outrages 
 were perpetrated, robbery commenced, 
 blood was shed, and anarchy in its most 
 hideous form appeared. But the United 
 States government soon laid the founda- 
 tions of order, and prepared a system of 
 regular legislation for California. A 
 severe code was established; thieving in- 
 curred the heavy penalty of a brand on 
 the cheek, with mutilation of the ears ; 
 
 other crimes were punished with similar 
 rigor. 
 
 Within a period of five months, the 
 population of the territory had run up to 
 one hundred thousand, having just quad- 
 rupled during that time. Of these, some 
 forty-five thousand arrived in the nine 
 thousand wagons that traversed the over- 
 land route, and four thousand on mule- 
 back, while the remainder came via, 
 Panama, and round Cape Horn. One- 
 third of this multitude was composed of 
 farmers, another of tradesmen and me- 
 chanics, and the rest of merchants, pro- 
 fessional men, adventurers, and gamblers. 
 The vast emigrant armies acted as pioneers 
 on their various routes, hewing down 
 trees, filling up chasms, leveling the 
 grounds, and bridging torrents. But the 
 sufferings endured in these colossal cara- 
 vans were severe and terrible. Many 
 perished on the route ; many became in- 
 sane, or wasted away, through lack of food 
 and water. The scourge of cholera also 
 overtook the early emigrants, before they 
 were fairly embarked on the wilderness; 
 the frequent rains of the early spring, 
 added to the hardships and exposure of 
 their travel, prepared the way for its 
 ravages, and the first four hundred miles 
 of the trail were marked by graves, to 
 the number of about four thousand. 
 Many also suffered immensely for want 
 of food. Bayard Taylor, in his narrative 
 of what befell these pioneer emigrants, says 
 that not only were they compelled to kill 
 their horses and mules to keep themselves 
 from starvation, but it was not unusual for 
 a mess by way of variety to the tough mule 
 steaks, to kill a quantity of rattlesnakes, 
 with which the mountains abounded, and 
 have a dish of them fried for supper. 
 
 And still the tide of emigration rolled 
 onward, as the richness of the gold 
 product, over so vast a region of territory, 
 became a confirmed fact. Notwithstand- 
 ing the oft-told story of deprivation, 
 famine and death, parties and companies 
 daily went forth to El Dorado, the golden 
 land. Some took the perilous inland route 
 across the Rocky mountains; some went 
 
DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 367 
 
 round Cape Horn ; and multitudes took 
 the Panama route. The tens of thousands 
 who thus went, having no other object 
 than to get gold, had neither means nor 
 inclination to grow their own food nor to 
 manufacture their own necessaries ; and 
 hence arose a field of enterprise which the 
 commercial world did not neglect. Valu- 
 able cargoes were dispatched to San Fran- 
 cisco to be there sold in exchange for 
 gold dust, and that place in time became a 
 populous, busy, thriving city, distinguished 
 also for reckless speculation, fabulous 
 prices for real estate, excesses of all kinds, 
 and disastrous conflagrations. During 
 one week in 1850, gold dust to the value 
 of three million dollars was shipped and 
 exported from San Francisco. In August 
 of the same year the monthly shipment 
 had reached about eight million dollars. 
 On September 15, 1850, there were in that 
 port six hundred and eighty-four vessels, 
 belonging to twenty-one different nations ; 
 some of these vessels, small in size, had 
 crossed the whole breadth of the Pacific 
 from Australia and New Zealand, to ex- 
 change their produce for gold dust. In 
 the first two weeks of October, in the 
 same year, ninety-four vessels arrived at 
 San Francisco, not including the regular 
 steamers. 
 
 But the most" strange and wonderful 
 spectacle of all, was that exhibited by 
 the money-diggers at their avocation. 
 Men with long-handled shovels delved 
 among clumps of bushes, or by the side of 
 large rocks, never raising their eyes for an 
 instant; others, with pick and shovel, 
 
 worked among stone and gravel, or with 
 trowels searched under banks and roots 
 of trees, where, if rewarded with small 
 lumps of gold, their eyes suddenly kindled 
 with pleasure, and the search was more 
 intently pursued. In the water, knee, or 
 even waist deep, regardless of the shiver- 
 ing cold, others were washing the soil 
 in the tin pans or the common cradle rocker, 
 whilst the sun poured a hot flood upon their 
 heads. The common rocking machine 
 for separating the gold was at first in great 
 demand, but this was soon superseded by a 
 cradle of ingenious construction ; then 
 came crushing mills, of various kinds, for 
 pounding the auriferous quartz; and in 
 time, machinery of the most effective 
 adaptability was universally introduced. 
 This operated powerfully to regulate min- 
 ing operations, and to give order and 
 stability to affairs generally throughout 
 the territory. Society assumed the most 
 advanced organization, churches every- 
 where dotted the land, education was 
 fostered, and the political institutions of 
 the country patterned after those of the 
 older states. Agricultural, industrial, 
 and commercial pursuits were entered upon 
 largely and with great success ; California 
 was admitted as a state into the Union in 
 1850 ; and in only ten years from Mar- 
 shall's curious and accidental discovery of 
 gold at Sutter's mill, in 1848, the gold 
 product of California had reached a total 
 of six hundred million dollars, and the 
 population had increased from between 
 twenty and thirty thousand souls to six 
 hundred thousand 1 
 
XLV1. 
 
 AWFUL VISITATIONS OF THE "ANGEL OF DEATH." 1849. 
 
 Yellow Fever and Cholera Epidemics at Different Periods. Frightful Mortality and Panic in 1849. 
 Business Abandoned, Churches Closed, Streets Barricaded, Cities Deserted. Proclamation by the 
 President of the United States. The Virtues, Passions, and Vices of Human Nature Strikingly Illus- 
 trated. Tens of Thousands Swept at Once from the Face of the Earth. Various Eras of American 
 Epidemics. Wide and Ghastly Ravages. Self-Preservation the First Law. Social Intercourse Sus- 
 pended. Ties of affection Sundered. Parents Forsake Children. Husbands Flee from Wives. Rich 
 Men Buried like Paupers. Money and Rank Unavailing. Rumble of the Dead-Carts. Activity in the 
 Grave-yards. They Look as if Plowed Up. Women in Childbirth Helpless. Their Screams for 
 Succor. Care of a Lunatic Patient The Tender Passion Still Alive. Courageous Marriages. 
 Death in the Bridal Chamber. Anecdotes of the Clergy. Crime, Filth, and Disease. Quacks and 
 Nostrums Rife. The Celebrated "Thieves' Vinegar." 
 
 "Bring out your dMd!" CRT or THE DEAD-CART DRIVERS. 
 
 8TBCCK WITH THE CHOLERA. 
 
 UAKER order, cleanliness, and temperance, so characteristic of the 
 "city of brotherly love," did not save Philadelphia from being vis- 
 ited, at an early period after the founding of the republic, by one of 
 the most direful scourges that ever was known in the western world. 
 This was the yellow fever, or " plague," in 1793, an epidemic which, 
 from its remarkable nature and development, is entitled to 
 the first mention in an article like this, and reminiscences of 
 which deeply interesting and indeed in some instances 
 almost tragical will be found in the highest degree 
 readable, at the present day. 
 
 Following this, was the malignant spotted 
 fever, in which the patient had large rea spots 
 here and there ; it broke out in Massachusetts, 
 in 1806 and continued until 1815. in the various 
 northern states. In 1812, the United States 
 army in New York and Vermont suffered se- 
 verely from it. In the latter state, it was the 
 most alarming disease ever known. It usually 
 attacked persons of the most hardy and robust 
 constitution, and often proved fatal in a few 
 hours ; not uncommonly, the patient was a 
 corpse before a physician could be brought to his 
 assistance. 
 
 In 1822, the yellow fever appeared again in 
 New York, with great virulence, after an inter- 
 
YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLERA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 369 
 
 mission of some seventeen years, and 
 though the mortality was much less exten- 
 sive than previously, the panic was even 
 sharper, the city south of the park being 
 fenced off and nearly deserted, families, 
 merchants, banks, and even the city gov- 
 ernment removing to a distance. But in 
 1833-5, the disease was far more virulent. 
 
 In 1832, the Asiatic cholera, or cholera 
 asphyxia, made its appearance in the 
 United States for the first time, coming 
 by way of Canada. Following the course 
 of the large rivers, it soon reached Buffalo, 
 and then spread irregularly, occurring in 
 towns and cities at distances from each 
 other, without affecting intervening dis- 
 tricts till a subsequent period. In the 
 city of New York, it appeared June 27th, 
 and continued two months, during which 
 period there were three thousand four hun- 
 dred deaths. In Albany, it showed itself 
 at the same time as in New York ; and 
 while its fury was abating in the latter 
 place, it began to appear in its most for- 
 midable shape in Philadelphia, and in a 
 few weeks a thousand fell victims. About 
 the same mortality occurred in Baltimore 
 and Washington, which cities the con- 
 tagion soon reached. It commenced in 
 Cincinnati in July, became epidemic in 
 September, and continued through most 
 of the summer of 1833. In the southern 
 states, it made great havoc amongst the 
 slave population, who fell ready and easy 
 subjects of its power. Fatal, beyond all 
 precedent, was the malady, in New Orleans 
 and St. Louis. The middle states never 
 before knew so terrible a visitation. 
 
 From the north, the disease also ex- 
 tended itself along the borders of the 
 great lakes, and soon its ravages began at 
 Detroit. The six eastern states escaped 
 with only a few cases, principally in the 
 port towns of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, 
 and Connecticut. 
 
 And now again, this awful scourge re- 
 appeared, in 1849, to blast the land with 
 death on every side, carrying terror to 
 every home and heart, and sweeping tens 
 of thousands into the grave In New 
 Orleans, it broke out about the middle of 
 24 
 
 December, 1848, and continued through 
 the winter. So frightful were its devasta- 
 tions, that it is estimated to have deci- 
 mated the inhabitants that remained in 
 some wards of the city. The raging pesti- 
 lence appeared in New York in May, and, 
 so violent was its spread, that during the 
 week ending July 21st, more than seven 
 hundred deaths occurred ; the mortality 
 that week was the greatest that had ever 
 taken place in any city in the United 
 States, the deaths by all diseases number- 
 ing more than fourteen hundred. In 
 Boston, the deaths from cholera, during 
 June, July, August, and September, were 
 rising six hundred. But it was far more 
 terrible in Cincinnati and St. Louis, the 
 victims in each of these cities being up- 
 wards of six thousand. Over all the mid- 
 dle and western states, this Angel of Death 
 spread his destroying wings, and in many 
 parts of New England. The third day of 
 August, 1849, was, in view of the terrible 
 scourge thus stalking mightily over the 
 broad land, appointed by the president of 
 the United States as a day of fasting and 
 prayer, that God would "avert the pesti- 
 lence that walketh in darkness and the 
 destruction that wasteth at noonday." 
 
 Again, in 1853, terror and panic seized 
 the land, from another visitation of the 
 yellow fever or plague. It spent its chief 
 force upon that oft-doomed city, New Or- 
 leans, where, in the short space of three 
 months, ten per cent, of the whole popu- 
 lation fell victims. 
 
 Concerning the origin, or producing 
 causes, of these epidemics, authorities 
 have differed so widely, that little of a 
 conclusive character, on these points, can 
 be presented ; and the same may be said 
 respecting the modes of treatment. Much, 
 however, that is interesting as well as 
 profitable, relative to these awful visita- 
 tions, may be learned from the various 
 phenomena and incidents that accompa- 
 nied them- 
 
 In no other place, perhaps, were the 
 manifestations and effects of a deathly 
 epidemic upon human conduct exhibited 
 more strikingly than in the city of Phila- 
 
370 
 
 YELLOW FEVEE AND CHOLERA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 delphia. The dread of the contagion drove 
 parents from their children, and even 
 wives from their husbands. All the ties 
 of affection and consanguinity were rent 
 asunder, and humanity was left to mourn 
 over its own selfishness, in the ardor of 
 self-preservati on. 
 
 Such was the degree of consternation, 
 dismay and affright, which possessed 
 people's minds, that, according to Mr. 
 
 were afraid to allow the barbers or hair- 
 dressers to come near them, as instances 
 had occurred of some of them having 
 shaved the dead, and many having en- 
 gaged as bleeders. Some, who carried 
 their caution pretty far, bought lancets 
 for themselves, not daring to allow them- 
 selves to be bled with the lancets of the 
 bleeders. Many houses were scarcely a 
 moment free from the smell of gunpowder, 
 
 MOSCMENT TO THE VICTIMS OF CHOLERA. 
 
 Carey, the historian of that period, most 
 of the inhabitants who could, by any 
 means, make it convenient, fled from the 
 city. Of those who remained, many shut 
 themselves up in their houses, being afraid 
 to walk the streets. The smoke of tobacco 
 being regarded as a preventive, many 
 persons, even women and small boys, had 
 segars almost constantly in their mouths. 
 Others, placing full confidence in garlic, 
 chewed it almost the whole day ; some 
 kept it in their pockets and shoes. Many 
 
 burned tobacco, sprinkled vinegar, etc. 
 Churches, libraries, and other places of 
 publib resort, were closed. Those persons 
 who ventured abroad had handkerchiefs, 
 or sponges, impregnated with vinegar or 
 camphor, at their noses ; some had smell- 
 ing bottles full of thieves' vinegar. Others 
 carried pieces of tarred rope in their hands 
 and pockets, also camphor bags tied around 
 their necks. The corpses of the most re- 
 spectable citizens, even of those who had 
 not died of the epidemic, were carried to 
 
YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLEKA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 371 
 
 the grave on the shafts of a chair, the horse 
 driven by a negro, unattended by a friend 
 or relation, and without any sort of cere- 
 mony. People uniformly and hastily shift- 
 ed their course at the sight of a hearse 
 coming towards them. Many never walked 
 on the foot-path, but went in the middle 
 of the streets, to avoid being infected in 
 passing houses wherein people had died. 
 Acquaintances and friends avoided each 
 other in the streets, and only signified 
 their regard by a cold nod. The old 
 custom of shaking hands fell into such 
 general disuse, that many recoiled with 
 affright at even the offer of a hand. A 
 person wearing crape, or having any other 
 appearance of mourning, was shunned like 
 a viper; and many congratulated them- 
 selves highly on the skill and address with 
 which they got to windward of every 
 person whom they met. When, too, the 
 citizens, summoning sufficient resolution, 
 walked abroad to take the air, the sight of 
 the sick-cart conveying patients to the 
 hospital, or the hearse carrying the dead 
 to the grave, which were traveling al- 
 most the whole day, soon damped their 
 spirits, and caused them to retrace their 
 steps and seek seclusion. These manifest- 
 ations and characteristics prevailed alike 
 during the yellow fever and the cholera. 
 Consternation was carried beyond all 
 bounds. Men of affluent fortunes were 
 abandoned to the care of any stranger, 
 black or white, who could by entreaty be 
 procured. In some cases, no money or 
 influence could procure proper attendance. 
 With the poor, the case was, of course, 
 immeasurably worse than with the rich. 
 Many of them perished, without a human 
 being to hand them a drink of water, or 
 to perform any medical or charitable office. 
 Some of the horrible and heart-rending 
 occurrences, which transpired during these 
 visitations of yellow fever and cholera, 
 will suffice better than any discussions of 
 symptoms and treatment, or any mere 
 general representations of the public ter- 
 ror and panic, to show the nature of the 
 calamities that thus swept over the land, 
 carrying desolation and anguish to so 
 
 many happy homes. The following are 
 some of the instances referred to, as rela- 
 ted by Carey, Simpson, and others. 
 
 An old grave digger, named Sebastian, 
 who had long lost the sense of smelling, 
 fancied he could not take the disorder, and 
 therefore followed his business without 
 apprehension. A husband and his wife, 
 who lay sick together, wished to b in- 
 terred in the same grave. Their deaths 
 happened within a few days of each other. 
 When the latter of the two was to be 
 buried, Sebastian was employed to dig 
 open the other's grave. He struck upon 
 and broke the coffin, and in stooping down, 
 inhaled such an intolerable and deadly 
 stench, that he was taken sick immedi- 
 ately, and in a day or two died. 
 
 A man and his wife, once in affluent 
 circumstances, were found lying dead in 
 bed, and between them was their child, a 
 little infant, who was sucking its mother'* 
 breast. How long they had lain thus, wag 
 uncertain. 
 
 Peculiar in its sadness, was the case of 
 a woman, whose husband had just died of 
 the disease ; she was seized with the pains 
 of parturition, and had nobody to assist 
 her, as the women in the neighborhood 
 were afraid if go into the house. She lay, 
 for a considerable time, in a condition of 
 anguish truly indescribable ; at length, 
 she struggled to reach the window, and 
 cried out for assistance. Two meil_ 'Tass- 
 ing by, went up stairs ; but they came at 
 too late a stage for she was even then 
 striving with death and actually, in a 
 few minutes, expired in their arms. 
 Another woman, whose husband and two 
 children lay dead in the room with her, 
 was in the same situation as that of the 
 woman just described, without a mid- 
 wife, or any other person to aid her. Her 
 cries at the window brought up one of the 
 carters employed for the relief of the sick. 
 With his assistance she was delivered of 
 a child, which died in a few minutes, 
 as did the mother, who was utterly ex- 
 hausted by her labor, on account of the 
 disorder, and by the dreadful spectacle 
 before her. And thus lay, in one room, 
 
372 
 
 YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLERA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 no less than five dead bodies, an entire 
 family, carried off within a few hours. 
 
 Before arrangements could be made and 
 carried out, by the public authorities, to 
 mitigate the severities of the scourge, 
 many fell victims, whose lives would oth- 
 erwise, probably, have been saved. A 
 servant girl, belonging to a family in 
 which the malady had prevailed, becom- 
 ing apprehensive of what might be her 
 own fate, resolved to remove to a relation's 
 house, some distance in the country. She 
 was, however, taken sick on the road, and 
 returned to town, where she could find no 
 person willing to receive her. One of the 
 
 inquired into the state of affairs. The 
 other, to indulge the contemptible pro- 
 pensity of hoaxing, told him, that a coffin- 
 maker, who had been employed by the 
 committee for the relief of the sick, had 
 found such a decrease of demand two 
 weeks before, that he had a large supply of 
 coffins on hand ; but that the mortality 
 had again so far increased, that he had 
 sold all, and had seven journeymen em- 
 ployed day and night. Alarmed at this 
 information, the merchant and his family 
 instantly turned back. 
 
 Several instances occurred, of the drivers 
 of the hospital wagons, on their arrival to 
 
 HORRORS OF THE OBEAT EPIDEMIC. 
 
 guardians of the poor provided a cart, and 
 took her to the almshouse, into which she 
 was refused admittance. She was brought 
 back, but the guardian could not procure 
 her a single night's lodging ; and at last, 
 after every effort to procure some kind 
 of shelter, the unfortunate creature abso- 
 lutely expired in the cart. 
 
 Of the various incidents partaking of 
 the extravagant and farcical, much might 
 be related, A merchant of Philadelphia, 
 who had been absent for several weeks, 
 was returning to the city in the second 
 week of November, having heard that the 
 danger was no more. He met a man on 
 the road going from the city, and naturally 
 
 deliver up their charge, finding, to their 
 amazement, the wagons empty. A lunatic, 
 who had the malignant disorder, was ad- 
 vised, by his neighbors, to go to the fever 
 hospital. He consented, and got into the 
 cart; but soon changing his mind, he 
 slipped out at the end, unknown to the 
 carter, who, after a while, missing him, 
 and seeing him at a distance running away, 
 turned his horse about, and trotted hard 
 after hl~. The other doubled his pace, 
 and the carter whipped his horse to a gallop ; 
 but the agile lunatic turned a corner, and 
 adroitly hid himself in a house, leaving the 
 mortified carter to return, and deliver an 
 account of his ludicrous adventure. 
 
YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLERA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 373 
 
 The wife of a man who lived in Walnut 
 street, Philadelphia, was seized with the 
 disease, and given over by the doctors. 
 The husband abandoned her, and next 
 night lay out of the house for fear of catch- 
 ing the infection. In the morning, taking 
 it for granted, from the very low state she 
 had been in, that she was dead, he pur- 
 chased a coffin for her; but on entering 
 the house, what was his astonishment to 
 find her much recovered. He himself, 
 however, fell sick shortly after, died, and 
 was buried in the very coffin which he had 
 so precipitately bought for his wife. An- 
 other example under this class, though 
 with one or two important points of differ- 
 ence, is the following : A woman, whose 
 husband died, refused to have him buried 
 in a coffin provided for her by one of her 
 friends, as too paltry and mean ; she there- 
 fore bought an elegant and costly one, and 
 had the other laid by in the yard. In a 
 week she was herself a corpse, and was 
 buried in the very coffin she had rejected. 
 
 The powers of the god of love might be 
 imagined to lie dormant amidst such scenes 
 of distress as were exhibited at the hos- 
 pitals, during this period. But his sway 
 was felt there with equal force as any- 
 where else. Thus it was, that John John- 
 son and Priscilla Hicks, two patients in 
 the public hospital, who had recovered, 
 and then officiated as nurses to the sick, 
 were smitten with each other's charms, 
 and, procuring leave of absence for an hour 
 or two, went to the city, were joined in the 
 bands of matrimony, and returned to their 
 avocation at the hospital. Another adven- 
 ture of the same kind, was that of Nassy, 
 a Portuguese mulatto, who took to wife 
 Hannah Smith, a bouncing German girl, 
 employed, like himself, as a nurse. An 
 instance of similar attachment is related as 
 having occurred in New Orleans, when 
 the epidemic was at its height, and the 
 whole city was sunk in grief and mourn- 
 ing. A smiling happy couple appeared 
 one morning before a Catholic clergyman, 
 and requested him to proclaim the bans of 
 their marriage the next day. The rever- 
 end gentleman was surprised that any 
 
 persons should desire to get married at 
 such a time of general misery and distress, 
 and urged the couple that they should 
 postpone it until the epidemic was over. 
 But they declined doing so, and the priest, 
 indignant at what he considered ill-timed 
 levity, turned away, and positively refused 
 to officiate in their behalf, stating that he 
 was too busy attending the sick and ad- 
 ministering the last consolations to the 
 dying. The impatient pair next proceeded 
 to the clergyman of St. Patrick's, who 
 exhibited a like surprise at the urgency of 
 the parties, and at first refused to sanction 
 such a marriage, but yielded at last to 
 their importunities. After due publica- 
 tion of the bans they were married, and 
 retired to their new home to spend the 
 honeymoon. In a few days, the bridal 
 chamber presented a solemn and affecting 
 spectacle. The dead body of the husband 
 lay on a couch, and the young and lovely 
 bride writhed in agony on the bed ; she 
 quickly followed him, and their honeymoon 
 was passed in another world. 
 
 Notwithstanding the devotedness and 
 self-sacrifice of the clergy, generally speak- 
 ing, during these calamities, and th 
 number who thus lost their lives, there 
 was occasionally an exception. An anec- 
 dote, illustrating this fact, used to be 
 related by the Hon. Edward Livingston, 
 who was mayor of New York, while the 
 plague raged in that city, and which will 
 bear repetition : The violence of the epi- 
 demic was beginning to abate ; its attacks 
 were indeed not less numerous than before, 
 but the proportion of its victims was daily 
 diminishing. I had a few minutes at my 
 own disposal (says Livingston), and I had 
 gone one evening, in a carriage, a short 
 distance from the city, to breathe the pure 
 air of the country, when I met on the road, 
 at the very moment when I was about to 
 return toward the city, a protestant minis- 
 ter married, and the father of a numerous 
 family. He, like the rest of his co-laborers, 
 had fled the fatal contagion. He was a 
 man truly pious, of exemplary life, and 
 presenting in his own person to his flock 
 an example of the Christian virtues which 
 
374 
 
 YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLERA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 he preached to them with sincerity and 
 eloquence. And yet, in the hour of 
 danger, he had not remained, but had fled, 
 not for himself, he had been carried 
 away by the panic with which his family 
 were seized. He asked 
 
 " What is going on in town, Edward ? 
 Is the sickness abating ? " 
 
 " We are doing all we can, my reverend 
 friend. We are taking care of the sick. 
 The physicians are discharging most nobly 
 their glorious mission but what can we 
 do for men's souls ? The proper material 
 succors abound, for never was charity more 
 lavish of its offerings ; but the bread of the 
 Word is wanting. The wretched ask in 
 vain for those physicians of the mind dis- 
 eased, whose consolations can cure the 
 wounds of the spirit and rob death of its 
 terrors. Well what do you say ? Here 
 is room for you in my carriage. Come in ! 
 the ripe harvest is falling to the ground, 
 and there are no reapers to gather it." 
 
 The reverend gentleman pressed Liv- 
 ingston's hand pointed to his wife and 
 children who were at the door of a small 
 house near the road and walked away in 
 silence. Had he belonged to any other 
 profession, his anxiety for his family 
 might well have excused him for sharing 
 in that feeling of terror which, seizing 
 like a panic upon all hearts, bid fair to 
 depopulate the city. It was, indeed, a 
 spectacle of sadness calculated to appal the 
 stoutest heart the mournful gloom of 
 those empty streets, their silence broken 
 only by the rumbling of the dead-cart and 
 the driver's hoarse cry, "Bring out your 
 dead ! " those houses left open and fully 
 furnished, from which the owners had fled 
 that forest of shipping, deserted and 
 silent as those of the western wilds, the 
 heart recoiled from such sights and con- 
 tacts. On the masts of some of these ves- 
 sels hung still the unfurled sail. On the 
 wharves, too, might often be seen the bales 
 of merchandise which terror had left there. 
 There was no danger of their being carried 
 off. Death was uppermost in men's 
 minds ; business was forgotten ; the grave- 
 yards looked like ploughed fields. 
 
 But the anecdote of Livingston and the 
 clerical friend is well offset by one related 
 of the Rev. Mr. Whitall, a well-known 
 Episcopal clergyman of New Orleans. 
 Walking on the levee in pursuit of objects 
 of charity, one day at noon, during the 
 epidemic period, he was attracted to a 
 number of laborers collected around some 
 object. Elbowing his way through the 
 crowd, Mr. Whitall found a poor laborer 
 lying on the ground, violently sick with 
 the prevailing disease, exposed to the 
 sun, and suffering extremely. The crowd, 
 though pitying his condition, appeared to 
 be either too much frightened to render 
 him any aid, or ignorant of how they 
 could relieve him. But the experienced 
 Samaritan did not long consider his duty 
 on such an occasion. Seizing one of the 
 wheelbarrows used in carrying bales of 
 cotton from the wharves to the ships, he 
 rolled it up alongside the sick man, and 
 laying him gently in it, wheeled his poor 
 patient to the nearest hospital, and there 
 secured for him such attendance as finally 
 led to his recovery. 
 
 As is usual, in times of threatened epi- 
 demic, the authorities of most of the prin- 
 cipal cities made due provision to avert its 
 approach, by stringent sanitary regula- 
 tions, or, failing in this, established hospi- 
 tals for the sick, retreats in the suburbs 
 for those residing in the infected districts, 
 and liberal appropriations of food and 
 money for the thousands of persons thrown 
 out of employment at such a crisis. In 
 some instances, these resolute proceedings 
 were objected to. A few persons refused 
 to go, and one man, who had been forcibly 
 removed, returned clandestinely and shut 
 himself in his house ; his foolish obstinacy 
 was not discovered until he was found dead 
 in the place he was so unwilling to leave. 
 Several merchants, too, laughing at the 
 precautions of the authorities, persisted in 
 visiting their counting-houses situated in 
 the dangerous localities; their death 
 atoned for their rashness. 
 
 Among the women, the mortality was 
 not so great as among the men, nor among 
 the old and infirm as among the middle- 
 
YELLOW FEVER AND CHOLEKA EPIDEMICS. 
 
 375 
 
 aged and robust. Tipplers and drunkards, 
 as well as gourmands, were very suscepti- 
 ble to the disorder ; of these, many were 
 seized, and the recoveries were very rare. 
 To men and women of illicit pleasure, it 
 was equally fatal ; the wretched, debilitated 
 state of their constitutions, produced by lust 
 and excess, rendered them an easy prey to 
 epidemic disease, which very soon termi- 
 nated their miserable career. A vast num- 
 ber of female domestics likewise fell victims. 
 
 Dreadful was the destruction among the 
 poor ; indeed, it is computed that at least 
 seven-eighths of the number of the dead 
 were of that class. The occupants of 
 filthy houses severely expiated their neg- 
 lect of cleanliness and decency. Whole 
 families, in such houses, sunk into one 
 silent, undistinguishing grave. The mor- 
 tality in confined streets, small alleys, and 
 close houses, debarred of a free circulation 
 of air, greatly exceeded that ill the large 
 streets and well-aired houses. 
 
 Of the committee appointed in Phila- 
 delphia for the relief of the sick, it is 
 related by one of their number, as a fact 
 of peculiar physiological interest, that sev- 
 eral of its members declared that some of 
 the most pleasurable hours of their exist- 
 ence were spent during the heighth of the 
 fever. They were released from the cares 
 of business ; their committee duties fully 
 occupied their minds, and engrossed their 
 attention for the entire day ; they went to 
 the state-house the place of meeting in 
 the morning, after an early breakfast ; 
 took a cold collation there at dinner-time, 
 the materials of which were constantly 
 spread on a sideboard ; and there they 
 remained till night, when they returned 
 to their families ; custom robbed the situ- 
 ation of its terrors. The only interruption 
 to this state of their feelings, arose from 
 the death of some friend or intimate ac- 
 quaintance, or of some person whom they 
 had perhaps seen alive a few hours or a 
 day before. But even these sad impres- 
 
 sions, though for the time strong and 
 afflictive, soon wore away, and the tran- 
 quil state returned. 
 
 Empiricism and quackery were not in- 
 active, even in times like these ; and the 
 cholera was no exception among those 
 " ills to which flesh is heir," for the cure 
 of which charlatans had their " unfailing 
 specific." But of all the nostrums thus 
 brought forward, the " Vinegar of Four 
 Thieves" was the most universal. A 
 story was tied to its tail which gave it a 
 popularity : Centuries ago, a dreadful 
 plague raged in Marseilles. The people 
 fled ; the city was visited by no ona 
 except four thieves, who daily entered, 
 robbed the houses, and carried their plun- 
 der to the mountains. The astonished 
 citizens, who had hid themselves in the 
 dens and caves of the earth, for fear of the 
 plague, saw them daily pass and re-pass 
 with their ill-gotten gear, and wondered 
 most profoundly why the plague did not 
 seize them. In process of time, however, 
 one of these thieves was captured; they 
 were just going to break him on the wheel, 
 when he said if they would spare his life 
 he would teach them to make the vinegar 
 of four thieves, by means of which they 
 had escaped the plague when robbing the 
 city, a request which was granted. The 
 " secret " thus imparted, modern quacks 
 claimed to make use of in the preparation 
 of a panacea for the cholera ! Of course 
 the venders got rich, for, during the epi- 
 demic, multitudes credulously believed in 
 the efficiency of smelling thieves' vinegar, 
 and treated their noses accordingly. 
 
 Terribly as some of the cities of the 
 United States have suffered from epidem- 
 ics, they bear no comparison in this 
 respect to the devastations by cholera in 
 the cities of London and Paris, in the 
 latter of which, with true French sensibil- 
 ity, the people have erected one of the 
 finest monuments commemorative of the 
 unfortunate victims. 
 
XL VII. 
 
 MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN, A NOTED MILLION- 
 AIRE OF BOSTON, BY PROF. JOHN W. WEBSTER, OF 
 HARVARD COLLEGE. 1849. 
 
 High Social Position of the Parties. Instantaneous Outburst of Surprise, Alarm, and Terror, in the 
 Community, on the Discovery of the Deed. Remarkable Chain of Circumstances Leading to the 
 Murderer's Detection Solemn and Exciting Trial Account of the Mortal Blow and Disposal of the 
 Remains. Similar Case of Colt and Adams. Parkman's Wealth and Fame Mysterious Disappear- 
 ance, November 23. Appointment with Professor Webster, that Day. Their Unhappy Pecuniary 
 Relations. Search for the Missing Millionaire. Webster's Call on Parkman's Brother. Explains 
 the Interview of November 23. No Trace of Parkman after that Date. The Medical College 
 Explored. Scene in Webster's Rooms. The Tea-Chest, Vault, and Furnace. Human Remains 
 Found There. Identified as Dr. Parkman's. Arrest of Webster at Night. Attempt at Suicide on 
 
 . the Spot. Behavior in Court. His Atrocious Guilt Proved. Rendering the Verdict. He Boldly 
 Addresses the Jury. Asserts His Entire Innocence. Final Confession of the Crime Hung near the 
 Spot of His Birth. The Similar and Tragical Case of John C. Colt, Murderer of Samuel Adams. 
 
 " It doth seem too bloody. 
 
 First, to cut off the head, then hack the limbs) 
 Like wrath in death, and malice afterwards." 
 
 EMORABLE, almost beyond a parallel, in the crim- 
 inal annals of America, is the great crime which 
 finds its record in the following pages. The posi- 
 tion of the parties, in their social and professional 
 relations, the nature of the proof, and, indeed, all 
 the circumstances of the case, invest the deed with 
 a universal and permanent interest. 
 
 On Friday, the twenty-third of November, 1849, 
 Dr. George Parkman, one of the wealthiest and best 
 known citizens of Boston, of an old family, and 
 highly respected, one of the founders of the Massa- 
 chusetts Medical College there, about sixty years of 
 
 PBOF. WEBSTER'S MUKDKR APPLIANCES, age, of rather remarkable person and very active 
 habits, was walking about the city, and transacting business as usual one of his last 
 acts, on that day, being the purchase of some lettuce for the dinner of his invalid daugh- 
 ter ; the only other members of his family being his wife, and one son, who was then 
 traveling on the continent of Europe. Being one of the most punctual of men, his 
 absence from the family table at half-past three o'clock excited surprise ; and on the 
 evening of the same day there was serious apprehension, his absence still continuing 
 unexplained. It was thought best to postpone all public search until Saturday after- 
 
MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 377 
 
 noon ; at two o'clock, therefore, there being 
 no tidings of him, a most vigorous and 
 minute search was instituted by his 
 friends, with the aid of the police force of 
 Boston and of advertisements offering 
 large rewards for such intelligence as 
 should lead to his discovery. He was 
 described as sixty years of age, about five 
 feet and nine inches high, gray hair, thin 
 face, with a scar under the chin, light com- 
 plexion, and usually a rapid walker; he 
 was dressed in a dark frock coat, dark pan- 
 taloons, purple silk vest, dark figured black 
 stock, and black hat. The search was 
 continued without intermission until the 
 following Friday, men being sent in all 
 directions for fifty or sixty miles, on all 
 the railroads, to all the towns on the coast ; 
 they searched over land and water, and 
 under water. 
 
 It was known the next Sunday follow- 
 ing his disappearance, that on the previous 
 Friday, at half-past one o'clock, Doctor 
 Parkman had, by appointment, met with 
 Dr. John W. Webster (Professor of Chem- 
 istry in Harvard University, and Lecturer 
 on Chemistry in the Medical College, Bos- 
 ton,) in his rooms at the Medical College, 
 and no further trace could be found ; the 
 fact of this interview having been first 
 communicated by Professor Webster. 
 
 The nature of this interview, and the 
 circumstances under which it took place, 
 may be here stated. In 1842, Doctor Park- 
 man had lent Professor Webster, on his 
 promissory note, four hundred dollars, and 
 in 1847 a further advance was made to 
 Professor Webster by Doctor Parkman and 
 some other parties, in acknowledgment of 
 which there was a promissory note given 
 Doctor Parkman for two thousand four hun- 
 dred and thirty-two dollars, payable by 
 yearly installments in four years ; a balance 
 due on a former note, to the amount of 
 three hundred and thirty-two dollars, 
 being included. Doctor Parkman had held 
 two mortgages ; one to secure the four 
 hundred dollar note, which was given in 
 1842, and another which secured that note, 
 and the other large note given in 1847. 
 The mortgage which was given in 1847, 
 
 covered all Professor Webs-ter's household 
 furniture, his books, and all his minerals, 
 and other objects of natural history. That 
 cabinet, however, he secretly disposed of, 
 so that all that was left to secure that 
 mortgage was the household furniture, and 
 what books he may have had. From a 
 memorandum, prepared in April, 1849, it 
 was shown that the amount of Professor 
 Webster's debt to Doctor Parkman was, at 
 that time, four hundred and fifty-six dol- 
 lars, being made up of three items due at 
 different times. Doctor Parkman had for 
 some time pressed urgently for the balance 
 due to himself, and there were frequent 
 and by no means friendly communications 
 between the parties on the subject. 
 
 The account given by Professor Web- 
 ster to the Rev. Dr. Francis Parkman 
 with whom he was on intimate terms, 
 having formerly been a member of his 
 congregation, and having very recently 
 received from him pastoral offices, of the 
 last interview with his missing brother, 
 was, that he called upon Doctor Parkman 
 at half-past nine o'clock on the morning of 
 Friday, November twenty-third, and ar- 
 ranged that tne doctor should meet him at 
 the college at half-past one ; that Doptor 
 Parkman came at that hour, having some 
 papers in his hand, and received from 
 Professor Webster four hundred and 
 eighty-three dollars, and some odd cents, 
 upon which Doctor Parkman took out one 
 of the notes, and hurriedly dashing his pen 
 across the signature, went away in great 
 haste, leaving the note behind him, saying, 
 as he left the room, that he would have the 
 mortgage canceled. On the last interview 
 between them in the presence of any 
 witness, and which took place in the col- 
 lege on the previous Monday, Doctor Park- 
 man indignantly complained to Professor 
 Webster that the cabinet of minerals, which 
 was mortgaged to him in security of the 
 advances he made, had been afterwards 
 fraudulently sold to his brother-in-law, Mr. 
 Robert G. Shaw ; and to another person 
 he made some very severe remarks in rela- 
 tion to this transaction, substantially, if 
 not in express terms, charging Professor 
 
378 
 
 MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 Webster with dishonesty. At parting, Doc- 
 tor Parkman is reported to have said with 
 much energy, " something must be done 
 to-morrow ! " The following day, Profes- 
 sor Webster sent a note to Doctor Park- 
 man, in response to which the doctor went 
 out to Cambridge, on Thursday, to Profes- 
 sor Webster's house. 
 
 Ever}' clue discovered led the searchers 
 back to the medical college in Boston, and 
 there ended; no person being to be found 
 "who had spoken with Doctor Parkman' 
 after his interview with Professor Webster. 
 Along with other buildings, the college 
 was searched ; first on Monday slightly, 
 and merely by way of excuse for searching 
 other houses in the neighborhood, and 
 again upon Tuesday, but with no serious 
 suspicions and witli no discovery, Profes- 
 sor Webster cheerfully accompanying the 
 officers through his own apartments. 
 
 In the meantime, another investigation 
 had been going on in the hands of Little- 
 field, the janitor of the college, who had as 
 early as Sunday evening begun to enter- 
 tain suspicions, which all his subsequent 
 assiduous watching increased, and which 
 led to the discovery, upon Friday, in the 
 laboratory, and in a vault connected with 
 it, of certain human remains, believed to 
 be those of Doctor Parkman, and to the 
 apprehension and ultimately to the trial of 
 Professor Webster on the charge of 
 murder. It was a case, in comparison 
 with which, those of Hare, Avery, Robin- 
 son, Strang, Ward, Washburn, Thomas, 
 and Rogers, appear but ordinary. 
 
 The premises in the medical college used 
 by Professor Webster, consisted of a lec- 
 ture-room in front; an upper laboratory 
 behind the lecture-room, furnished with a 
 stove, water and a sink, and a small room 
 adjoining, where chemical materials were 
 kept These were on the first floor. On 
 the basement story there was a lower lab- 
 oratory, reached by a staircase from the 
 upper one ; this contained an assay fur- 
 nace, was provided with water and a sink, 
 had a store-room adjoining, and a private 
 closet, with an opening into a vault at the 
 base of the building, into which vault the 
 
 sea-water had access through the stones of 
 the wall, which had been some years 
 before slightly pushed out of their original 
 position. Into this vault there was no 
 opening except that in the private closet. 
 After all the other parts of the college had 
 been repeatedly searched without success, 
 the janitor resolved to make an examina- 
 tion of this vault, which he effected by 
 secretly breaking a hole through the brick 
 and lime wall, at a point almost directly 
 under the private closet, taking care to 
 work only during Professor Webster's 
 absence. 
 
 On the afternoon of Friday, the thirtieth 
 of November, exactly a week after Doctor 
 Parkman's disappearance, the opening was 
 made ; and there were discovered, lying in 
 the vault, parts of a male human body. 
 These consisted of the pelvis or hip bones, 
 the right thigh from the hip to the knee, 
 and the left leg, from the knee to the 
 ankle. 
 
 In consequence of this disclosure, Pro- 
 fessor Webster was immediately appre- 
 hended; and a more careful search was 
 made in the laboratory on the next and 
 the following days, which resulted in fur- 
 ther discoveries. Buried among tan in a 
 tea-chest, and covered with specimens of 
 minerals, there were found a large hunt- 
 ing-knife ; a thorax or chest, with both 
 clavicles and scapulae attached, and having 
 a perforation in the region of the heart ; 
 and a left thigh, to which a piece of string 
 
MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 379 
 
 was fastened. In the ashes of the furnace, 
 also, were found grains of gold, a pearl 
 shirt button, a human tooth, blocks of 
 mineral teeth, and about fifty fragments 
 of bone belonging to the skull, face, and 
 other parts of the human body. There 
 was also found in the laboratory a largo 
 double-edged sheath-knife called also a 
 Turkish knife a small saw, a hammer, 
 and some other articles. 
 
 In arresting Professor "Webster, three 
 of the Boston police proceeded at night, 
 under the direction of Mr. Clapp, in a 
 coach, to his residence in Cambridge, on 
 knocking at the door of which and inquir- 
 ing for the professor, the account of what 
 transpired is as follows : That he came for- 
 ward to see what was wanted ; we told him 
 that we wanted him to go with us and as- 
 sist at one more search of the medical col- 
 lege. He said something about its hav- 
 ing been searched two or three times 
 before, but was very willing to accompany 
 us, and putting off his slippers, drew on 
 his boots, and came out. Just as we 
 started, he remarked that he had forgotten 
 his keys, and would go back and get them ; 
 he was told that they had keys enough to 
 unlock all the rooms in the college, and it 
 would not be necessary for him to go back 
 after them he said it was very well, and 
 got into the coach. The driver turned 
 toward Boston, and on the way Professor 
 Webster conversed on indifferent subjects. 
 The conversation finally fell upon the dis- 
 appearance of Doctor Parkman. Profes- 
 sor Webster remarked that a Mrs. Bent, 
 of Cambridge, had seen Doctor Parkman 
 at a very late hour on the Friday evening 
 when he disappeared, and he said as she 
 lived near the bridge, it might be well to 
 call and see her ; this was declined, with 
 the reply that they could go some other 
 time. 
 
 On the party coming over the bridge, 
 Professor Webster asked if anything fur- 
 ther had been done in the search for the 
 doctor ; he was told that the doctor's hat 
 had been found in the water at Charles- 
 town, and that the river had been dragged 
 above and below the bridge. As the coach 
 
 went along, the driver passed beyond the 
 street leading to the college, and directed 
 his way up towards the jail. Professor 
 Webster remarked that he was going in a 
 wrong direction. To this, policeman Clapp 
 made reply, that the coachman was a new 
 hand and somewhat green, but he would 
 doubtless discover and rectify his mistake. 
 This reason satisfied him. The coachman 
 still drove on, and shortly after arrived at 
 the jail. Clapp got out of the coach and 
 went into the jail, to see if there were any 
 spectators there found there were not, 
 and then went back and said to those in 
 the coach, "I wish, gentlemen, you would 
 alight here for a few moments." The offi- 
 cers got out of the coach, and the professor 
 followed. They passed into the outer 
 office, and Clapp then said, " Gentlemen, 
 I guess we had better walk into the inner 
 office." Looking strangely at Clapp, Pro- 
 fessor Webster said 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this?" 
 " Professor Webster," replied Mr. Clapp, 
 " you will perhaps remember that in com- 
 ing over Cambridge bridge, I told you that 
 the river above and below it had been 
 dragged; we have also been dragging in 
 the college, and we have been looking for 
 the body of Dr. Parkman. You are now 
 in custody, on the charge of being his mur- 
 derer ! " 
 
 On hearing this* announcement, he ut- 
 tered two or three sentences which were 
 not distinctly understood, but which were 
 supposed at the time to refer to the nature 
 of the crime with which he was charged; 
 he finally spoke plainly, and said he would 
 like his family to be told of his arrest. 
 Mr. Clapp replied, that if his family were 
 informed, as he requested, it would be a 
 sad night to them, and advised him far- 
 ther as he was beginning to talk that 
 he would better not say anything to any- 
 body at that time. On afterwards carry- 
 ing the prisoner to the college and labora- 
 tory, he was ^greatly agitated, and looked 
 as though he did not know what was going 
 on about him. He appeared to act pre- 
 cisely as some persons are known to when 
 in delirium tremens ; some one handed 
 
380 
 
 MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAK 
 
 him water, but he could not drink, and 
 snapped at the glass like a mad dog. 
 Concerning this period, Professor Web- 
 ster states, in his own words : ' When I 
 found the carriage was stopping at the 
 jail, I was sure of my fate. Before leav- 
 ing the carriage I took a dose of strych- 
 nine from my pocket and swallowed it. I 
 had prepared it in the shape of a pill be- 
 fore I left my laboratory on the twenty- 
 third. I thought I could not bear to sur- 
 vive detection. I thought it was a large 
 dose. The state of my nervous system 
 probably defeated its action partially.' 
 
 After a long investigation of the case, 
 the grand jury found an indictment against 
 
 the prisoner for the murder of Doctor 
 Parkman, which came on for trial at Bos- 
 ton, before Chief Justice Shaw and three 
 associate justices, Wilde, Metcalf, and 
 Dewey, of the supreme judicial court of 
 Massachusetts, upon the nineteenth of 
 March, 1850. Some time before the 
 judges took their places upon the bench, 
 Professor Webster, until now the inti- 
 mate companion of senators, judges, di- 
 vines, men of literature and science 
 entered, and immediately took his seat in 
 the felon's dock. His step was light and 
 elastic, in crossing towards his place, and 
 his countenance betrayed a marked degree 
 of calm and dignified composure. On sit- 
 ting down, he smiled, as he saluted several 
 of his friends and acquaintances, to some 
 
 of whom he familiarly nodded ; and a 
 ftranger would have taken him for an or- 
 dinary spectator. He wore his spectacles, 
 and sat with ease and dignity in the dock, 
 occasionally shaking hands with friends. 
 The countenance of Professor Webster in- 
 dicated strong animal passions, and irasci- 
 ble temperament. The cheek-bones high, 
 and the mouth, with compressed lips, be- 
 trayed great resolution and firmness of 
 character. The forehead inclined to an- 
 gular, rather low r and partially retreating. 
 Standing below the middle height, and by 
 no means a man of muscular strength, his 
 general appearance made no very favorable 
 impression. On the reading of the indict- 
 ment, by the clerk, the prisoner stood up 
 in the dock and listened with marked at- 
 tention. Almost every eye was turned 
 towards him at this time, but he exhibited 
 the same self-possession and determined 
 control as from the first, pleading 'Not 
 Guilty,' in a strong and emphatic tone of 
 voice. Ex-Governor Clifford was his sen- 
 ior counsel. 
 
 The trial lasted during eleven days, 
 there having been no fewer than one hun- 
 dred and sixteen witnesses examined 
 forty-seven of them being called on behalf 
 of the accused, including his professional 
 friends and neighbors, Presidents Sparks 
 and Walker, Professors Peirce, Bowen, 
 Hosford, Palfrey, and W3'man. Scientific 
 testimony was also given by Prof. 0. W. 
 Holmes, and others ; and the court sat 
 eight or nine hours each day. The testi- 
 mony was of a most deeply interesting 
 and exciting character. The various parts 
 of the body found in the vault, furnace, 
 and tea-chest, were, by the marvelous and 
 beautiful science of anatomy, under the 
 skillful hand of Prof. Jeffries Wyman, re- 
 integrated, and found to constitute a 
 body, positively recognized by some of 
 Doctor Parkman's intimate associates as 
 his. Doctor Keep identified the mineral 
 teeth as the set made by him for the doc- 
 tor. The general figure and appearance 
 indicated by the remains, including a very 
 peculiar hairiness of the back, corresponded 
 perfectly with Doctor Parkman's; the 
 
MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 381 
 
 height, which, on the evidence of the anat- 
 omists examined, 'could be determined 
 certainly within half an inch,' was just 
 the same ; the form of the lower jaw, too, 
 shown by four fragments of the right half, 
 implied a rising chin, which was so promi- 
 nent a feature of the doctor. Every cir- 
 cumstance brought forward tended to show 
 that Doctor Parkman's last known where- 
 abouts was at the medical college, on the 
 day when he was there to meet Professor 
 Webster; that the remains found in the 
 apartments of the latter were those of the 
 doctor; that the professor, during the 
 week succeeding the day of Doctor Park- 
 man's disappearance, was locked in his 
 laboratory at unusual hours ; that during 
 that week, intense fires had been kept up 
 in the furnace, and water was used in pro- 
 digious quantities. So overwhelming was 
 the evidence substantiating these and kin- 
 dred facts, and so strong and unbroken the 
 chain of circumstances which connected 
 Professor Webster's movements with the 
 great and awful deed, that the verdict of 
 guilty seemed inevitable, when the ques- 
 tion should be finally passed upon by the 
 jury. But, through all the protracted 
 trial, the prisoner maintained perfect com- 
 posure, even when facts and objects were 
 disclosed which would have made most 
 men tremble. He also had the hardihood 
 to address the jury, previous to the charge 
 from the bench, explaining away the evi- 
 dence against him, and asserting his en- 
 tire innocence. 
 
 At the conclusion of the judge's charge, 
 the case was committed to the jur}', and 
 in about three hours they returned to de- 
 liver their verdict. Professor Webster also 
 soon appeared in the charge of an officer ; 
 he moved with a quick, nervous step, and 
 took his place in a chair beside the prison- 
 er's dock, which he soon after changed for 
 the arm-chair in the iron picket inclosures. 
 His appearance was pale and thoughtful, 
 with a serious dejectedness which was ap- 
 parent in the contraction of the muscles 
 about the mouth. The profound and 
 death-like stillness was now broken by the 
 clerk, who said 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed 
 on a verdict ? " 
 
 " We have," was the response. 
 
 " Who shall speak for you, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " The foreman," answered some of the 
 jury. 
 
 "John W. Webster, hold up your right 
 hand," said the clerk. 
 
 The prisoner rose and looked steadily 
 and intensely upon the foreman ; and th 
 clerk then continued 
 
 " Mr. Foreman, look upon the prisoner. 
 Prisoner, look upon the jury." 
 
 Professor Webster still maintained his 
 fixed and intense look of inquiry upon the 
 foreman, trying to gather from his coun- 
 tenance some indication of the sentiments 
 of the jury upon which depended life or 
 death to him. 
 
 " What say you, Mr. Foreman, is John 
 W. Wt-bster, the prisoner at the bar, guilty, 
 or not guilty ? " demanded the clerk. 
 
 " Guilty ! " was the solemn response. 
 
 When the foreman pronounced the word 
 Guilty, the prisoner started, like a person 
 shot; and his hand, which had hitherto 
 been held erect, fell to the bar in front of 
 him with a dead sound, as if he had sud- 
 denly been deprived of muscular action. 
 He soon sat down ; his chin drooped upon 
 his breast. He put his hand up to his 
 face, but his nerves trembled so that he 
 appeared to be fumbling with his fingers 
 under his spectacles, and, shutting his 
 eyes, he gave a deep, heart-breaking sigh, 
 which spoke of the inexpressible anguish 
 of his soul. All eyes were fixed in sad- 
 ness upon the doomed man. On the en- 
 suing Monday he received his sentence to 
 be hung. 
 
 Subsequently, proceedings were taken, 
 but unsuccessful, on the part of Professor 
 Webster, to set aside the trial, on the 
 ground of some alleged technical informal- 
 ities; and a petition to Governor Briggs, 
 likewise unavailing for a commutation 
 of the sentence, on the ground that th 
 killing, now confessed by Professor Web- 
 ster, was done in the heat of excessive 
 provocation. In this confession, Professor 
 Webster states, as follows, the manner in 
 
382 
 
 MUEDER OF DE. GEOEGE PARKMAN. 
 
 which the murder was committed : Doc- 
 tor Parkman agreed to call on me as I 
 proposed. He came, accordingly, between 
 half-past one and two o'clock, entering at 
 the lecture-room door. I was engaged in 
 removing some lecture-room glasses from 
 my table into the room in the rear, called 
 the upper laboratory. He came rapidly 
 down the step, and followed me into the 
 laboratory. He immediately addressed 
 me with great energy ' Are you ready 
 for me, sir ? Have you got the money ? ' 
 I replied, ' No, Doctor Parkman ; ' and I 
 was then beginning to state my condition 
 and my appeal to him, but he would not 
 listen to me, and interrupted me with 
 much vehemence. He called me a scoun- 
 drel and a liar, and went on heaping on 
 
 obtain the object for which I sought the 
 interview, but I could not stop him, and 
 soon my own temper was up ; I forgot 
 everything, and felt nothing but the sting 
 of his words. I was excited to the highest 
 degree of passion, and while he was speak- 
 ing and gesticulating in the most violent 
 and menacing manner, thrusting the letter 
 and his fist into my face, in my fury I 
 seized whatever thing was handiest, (it 
 was a stick of wood,) and dealt him an 
 instantaneous blow with all the force that 
 passion could give it. I did not know, or 
 think, or care, where I should hit him, nor 
 how hard, nor what the effect would be. 
 It was on the side of his head, and there 
 was nothing to break the force of the blow. 
 He fell instantly upon the pavement 
 
 PROFESSOR WEBSTER'S CELL IN PRISON. 
 
 me the most hitter taunts and opprobrious 
 epithets. While he was speaking, he drew 
 out a handful of papers from his pocket, 
 and took from among them my two notes, 
 and also an old letter from Doctor Hosack, 
 written many years ago, congratulating 
 him on his success in getting me appointed 
 Professor of Chemistry. 'You see,' he 
 said, ' I was the means of getting you into 
 your office, and now I will get you out of 
 it.' He put back into his pocket all the 
 papers except the letters and the notes. 
 I cannot tell how long the torrent of 
 threats and invectives continued, and I 
 can recall to memory but a small portion 
 of That he said ; at first I kept interpos- 
 ing, trying to pacify him, so that I might 
 
 There was no second blow; he did not 
 move. I stooped down over him, and he 
 seemed to be lifeless. Blood flowed from 
 his mouth, and I got a sponge and wiped 
 it away. I got some ammonia and ap- 
 plied it to his nose, but without effect. 
 Perhaps I spent ten minutes in attempts 
 to resuscitate him, but I found he was ab- 
 solutely dead. In my horror and conster- 
 nation I ran instinctively to the doors and 
 bolted them, the doors of the lecture-room, 
 and of the laboratory below. And then, 
 what was I to do ? It never occurred tt> 
 me to go out and declare what had been 
 done, and obtain assistance. I saw noth- 
 ing but the alternative of a successful 
 movement and concealment of the body on 
 
MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARK MAN. 
 
 383 
 
 the one hand, and of infamy and destruc- 
 tion on the other. The first thing I did, 
 as soon as I could do anything, was to 
 draw the hody into the private room ad- 
 joining, where I took off the clothes and 
 began putting them into the fire, which 
 was burning in the upper laboratory. 
 They were all consumed there that after- 
 noon. 
 
 The painful details of the separation 
 and disposal of the parts are then described 
 by Professor Webster, the body dismem- 
 bered ; the head, viscera, and some of the 
 limbs thrown into the fire of the furnace, 
 ' and fuel heaped on ; ' and the remainder 
 of the body put in two cisterns with water, 
 one of which was under the lid of the lec- 
 ture-room table, and the other in the lower 
 laboratory, into the latter of which a 
 quantity of potash was at the same time 
 thrown. 
 
 In continuation of this ghastly narrative, 
 Professor Webster says : When the body 
 had been thus all disposed of, I cleared 
 away all traces of what had been done. I 
 think the stick with which the fatal blow 
 had been struck, proved to be a piece of 
 the stump of a large grape-vine say two 
 inches in diameter, and two feet long. It 
 was one of several pieces which I had 
 carried in from Cambridge long before, 
 for the purpose of showing the effect of 
 certain chemical fluids in coloring wood, 
 by being absorbed into the pores. The 
 grape-vine, being a very porous wood, was 
 well adapted for that purpose. Another 
 longer stick had been used as intended, 
 and exhibited to the students. This one 
 had not been used. I put it into the fire. 
 I took up the two notes either from the 
 table or the floor; I think the table, close 
 by where Doctor Parkman had fallen. I 
 seized an old metallic pen lying on the 
 table, dashed it across the face, and 
 through the signatures, and put them in 
 my pocket. I do not know why I did this 
 rather than put them in the fire, for I had 
 not considered for a moment what effect 
 either mode of disposing of them would 
 have on the mortgage, or my indebtedness 
 to Doctor Parkman and the other persona 
 
 interested, and I had not yet given a sin- 
 gle thought to the question as to what 
 account I should give of the object or re- 
 sult of my interview with Doctor Park- 
 man. I left the college to go home as late 
 as six o'clock. I collected myself as well 
 as I could, that I might meet my family 
 and others with composure. 
 
 It was on Sunday that Professor Web- 
 ster, according to his own assertion, for 
 the first time made up his mind what 
 course to take, and what account to give 
 of the appointed meeting between him and 
 Doctor Parkman ; that on the same day 
 he looked into the laboratory but did noth- 
 ing ; on Monday, after the officers' visit 
 of search to the college, he threw the parts 
 which had been under the lecture-table 
 into the vault, and packed the thorax into 
 the tea-chest; the perforation of the tho- 
 rax was made by the knife ; and at the 
 time of removing the viscera on Wednes- 
 day, he put on kindlings, and made a fire 
 in the furnace below, having first poked 
 down the ashes ; some of the limbs were 
 consumed at this time. This, he says, 
 was the last he had to do with the remains. 
 The fish-hooks, tied up as grapples, were 
 to be used for drawing up the parts in the 
 vault. On the very night of the murder, 
 he and his family made a neighborly call 
 at Professor Treadwell's, passing the even- 
 ing in social conversation and playing 
 whist ! It was that baneful feature in 
 American society extravagance which 
 alone brought Webster to calculate the life 
 of his creditor and benefactor, and which, 
 in so many other eminent examples, like 
 those of Huntington, Ketchum, Edwards, 
 Schuyler, and Gardiner, took the shape of 
 gigantic frauds and peculation. 
 
 So plain were the facts involving Pro- 
 fessor Webster's terrible guilt, however, 
 that no efforts to palliate his atrocious 
 crime had the least effect upon the public 
 mind in lightening the crushing weight 
 of infamy from his name, nor did the arm 
 of retributive justice for a moment swenre 
 or falter. Upon a scaffold, in the same 
 quarter of his native city where he and hia 
 victim first breathed the breath of life, and 
 
384 
 
 MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 in full view of the classic halls of Harvard 
 College, John White Webster paid the 
 extreme penalty of the law, and his form 
 now lies interred in one of the sequestered 
 dells of Mount Auburn, not far from the 
 spot where rest the shattered remains of 
 the ill-fated Parkman. Professor Webster 
 owed his appointment at Harvard Univer- 
 sity to the influence of Doctor Parkman 
 and the eminent and honored Dr. Cas- 
 par Wistar, of Philadelphia, president of 
 the American Philosophical Society. 
 
 No such deep and wide-spread excite- 
 ment had, for many years, attended any 
 other of the numerous murders committed 
 for pecuniary motives, excepting, perhaps, 
 the cold-blooded killing of Samuel Adams, 
 a highly respected printer, by John C. 
 Colt, author of the system of book-keeping 
 and penmanship bearing his name, and 
 brother of the well-known inventor of the 
 revolver. This deed occurred in the city 
 of New York, in September, 1841. Colt 
 had for some time owed Adams a bill for 
 printing, which he was unprepared to pay. 
 The final call made by Adams, at Colt's 
 room on Broadway, for a settlement of 
 the account, resulted in a tragedy rarely 
 equaled in the annals of crime. 
 
 For some days, the mysterious absence 
 of Mr. Adams was the subject of universal 
 comment in the newspaper press. The 
 discovery of the murder was made through 
 the instrumentality of Mr. Wheeler, who 
 occupied a room adjoining that of Colt. 
 About four o'clock, p. M., on the day of 
 Mr. Adams's disappearance, Mr. Wheeler 
 thought he heard an unusual noise in 
 Colt's room, and was induced to go to the 
 door and rap. Not receiving any answer, 
 he looked through the key-hole, and saw 
 two hats standing upon a table, and Colt 
 kneeling upon the floor, as if scrubbing it. 
 After waiting a little while, Mr. Wheeler 
 peeped into the key-hole again, and saw 
 Colt still engaged in the same operation. 
 This excited his suspicions, and he caused 
 a person to watch at the door all night. 
 In the morning, Colt was seen to take a 
 box, about four feet long and two high, 
 down stairs. The box was directed to 
 
 somebody in St. Louis, via New Orleans. 
 Mr. Wheeler gave information of these 
 facts to the mayor, who immediately insti- 
 tuted search for the box; it was found, 
 after some difficulty, on board of the ship 
 Kalamazoo, and in it the body of Mr. Ad- 
 ams, wrapped up in sail-cloth and sprinkled 
 with salt and chloride of lime. 
 
 Colt was at once arrested, and an indict- 
 ment for willful and deliberate murder 
 found against him. His trial resulted in 
 his conviction ; and, notwithstanding the 
 efforts of numerous and powerful friends, 
 and the lavish use of money, in his behalf, 
 the fatal day arrived when he was to pay 
 the extreme penalty of the law for his 
 great crime. The scaffold was erected 
 the whole city surged with excitement 
 the crowd gathered around the prison was 
 immense. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, Rev. Dr. Anthon vis- 
 ited Colt's cell, in company with Colt's 
 brother, for the purpose of marrying the 
 murderer to his mistress, Caroline Hen- 
 shaw. The ceremony was performed, Colt 
 manifesting a deep interest in their child. 
 He also handed a package containing five 
 hundred dollars for its benefit to Doctor 
 Anthon, who proffered to become sponsor 
 for it, which was eagerly accepted by Colt. 
 
 About one o'clock, Colt's brother, Sam- 
 uel, again arrived, and entered the cell. 
 Colt was still engaged in conversation with 
 his wife, who was sitting on the foot of the 
 bed, convulsed with tears. At Colt's re- 
 quest, John Howard Payne and Lewis Gay- 
 lord Clarke then went into the cell to take 
 their leave of him. Colt appeared exceed- 
 ingly pleased to see them, shook them cor- 
 dially by the hand, and conversed with ap- 
 parent cheerfulness with them for five 
 minutes, when they bade him farewell, both 
 of them in tears. Colt's wife, and his 
 brother Samuel, also soon left, both deeply 
 affected. The wife could scarcely support 
 herself, so violent were her feelings and 
 acute her sufferings. She stood at the 
 door of the cell for a minute Colt kiss- 
 ing her passionately, straining her to his 
 bosom, and watching intensely her reced- 
 ing form, as she passed into the corridor. 
 
MUKDER OF DE. GEORGE PARKMAN. 
 
 385 
 
 Here she stood and sobbed convulsively, 
 as though her heart would break, until led 
 away by friends. 
 
 Colt now desired to see the sheriff, who 
 went into his cell. Colt then told him 
 emphatically that he was innocent of the 
 murder of Adams, and that he never in- 
 tended to kill him ; he also said that he 
 had hopes that something would intervene 
 to save him from being hung, and begged 
 the sheriff not to execute the sentence of 
 the law upon him. The sheriff told him 
 to banish all hope of that kind, for he 
 must die at four o'clock. He then asked 
 to see Doctor Anthon, who went into his 
 cell, and remained in prayer with him 
 about ten minutes. At the close of this, 
 Colt again sent for the sheriff, and said to 
 him, " If there are any gentlemen present 
 who wish to see me, and take their leave 
 of me, I shall be happy to see them." 
 
 This was announced by the sheriff, and 
 all present, with one or two exceptions, 
 passed up to his cell door, shook him by 
 the hand, and took their leave of him. 
 To one gentleman connected with the 
 press, he said : " I've spoken harshly of 
 some of the press, but I do not blame you 
 at all ; it was all my own fault. There 
 were things that ought to have been ex- 
 plained. I know you have a good heart, 
 and I forgive you from my soul freely ; 
 may God bless you, and may you prosper." 
 
 He then requested the keeper, Mr. 
 Greene, to let him be left alone until the 
 last moment. This was about two o'clock. 
 His cell was closed, and he was left alone 
 till twenty minutes to three, when some 
 friends of the sheriff, apprehending that 
 an attempt at suicide might be made by 
 Colt, desired deputy sheriff Hillyer to go 
 to Colt's cell door, and request to wish him 
 ' good bye.' Colt was then walking up 
 26 
 
 and down his cell, but turned around on the 
 door opening, smiled on Hillyer, shook him 
 by the hand and kis*ed him, as he did sev- 
 eral of those who had just previously bid 
 him farewell in this life. He said to Hill- 
 yer, " God bless you, and may you prosper 
 in this life, which is soon to close on me." 
 From this time, the excitement around 
 the prison increased tremendously, and the 
 feelings of those in the prison were also 
 worked up to a pitch of great intensity. 
 No one, however, entered his cell till pre- 
 cisely five minutes to four o'clock, at which 
 time Sheriffs Hart and "Westervelt, dressed 
 in uniform, and accompanied by Doctor 
 Anthon, proceeded to the cell. On the 
 keeper opening the door, Doctor Anthon, 
 who was first, threw up his hands and eyes 
 to Heaven, and uttering a faint ejaculation, 
 turned pale as death and retired. "As I 
 thought," said the keeper. " As I thought," 
 said others. And going into the cell, there 
 lay Colt on his back, stretched out at full 
 length on the bed, quite dead, but not 
 cold. A clasp knife, like a small dirk 
 knife, with a broken handle, was sticking 
 in his heart. He had stabbed himself 
 about the fifth rib, on the left side. His 
 temples were yet warm. His vest was 
 open, the blood had flowed freely, and his 
 hands, which were lying across the stom- 
 ach, were very bloody ; he had evidently 
 worked and turned the knife round ^nd 
 round in his heart after stabbing himself, 
 until he made quite a large gash. His 
 mouth was open, his eyes partially so, and 
 his body lay as straight on the bed as if 
 laid out for a funeral by others. Most 
 strange to say, just at this moment, the 
 large cupola of the prison was discovered 
 to be on fire, and burned furiously. The 
 scene and circumstances were tragical to a 
 degree altogether indescribable. 
 
XL VIII. 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND, THE 
 "SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE." 1850. 
 
 This Queen of Song Comes under the Auspices of Mr. Barnum. Twenty Thousand Persons Welcome 
 Her Arrival. Transcendent Beauty and Power of Her Voice. A Whole Continent Enraptured With 
 Her Enchanting Melodies. Pleasant Exhilaration of Feeling Throughout the Land by the Presence 
 of the Fair Nightingale. Honors from Webster, Clay, and Other Dignitaries. Her Praises Fill the 
 Wide World. The Vocal Prodigy of the Age. In Opera, ' The Daughter of the Regiment." Bar- 
 num's Happy Conception. Proposes to Her this American Tour. His Generous Terms Accepted. 
 She Reaches New York. Sunny and Joyous Outburst. A Real "Jenny Lind " Era First Concert at 
 Castle Garden Tempest of Acclamation. Encores, Showers of Bouquets. Public Expectation 
 Exceeded. Jenny's Complete Triumph. All the Receipts Given to Charity. Equal Enthusiasm 
 Everywhere. Beautiful Incidents. She is a Guest at the White House. Henry Clay at Her Con- 
 cert. Webster and the Nightingale. A Scene " Not Down on the BilU." Ninety-Five Concerts 
 Yield J700.000. 
 
 " So loft, so clear, yet in so Bweet a note. 
 It Beemftd the miuic melted in her spirit." 
 
 EALOUSLY watching, with a practiced professional eye, every opportu- 
 nity to cater to the ever-varying tastes of a pleasure-loving public, Mr. 
 Barnum, the "prince of showmen," conceived the felicitous idea of 
 inviting the renowned Swedish songstress, Jenny Lind, whose praise 
 filled the wide world as that of a very divinity, to enter into an engage- 
 ment with him to visit the United States, on a prolonged musical tour, 
 under his managing auspices ; and this enterprising design, the accom- 
 plished showman in due time brought successfully about, its consum- 
 mation forming one of the most brilliant, joyous and exhilarating 
 episodes, viewed from whatever aspect, in the experience of the American nation, an 
 outburst of sunny excitement and delight, all over the land, at the presence of that tran- 
 scendent musical genius, that wonderful vocal prodigy, of modern times. 
 
 But before proceeding to the details of this splendid and triumphant tour, some 
 account of the distinguished songstress, in respect to her fascinating personal history 
 and previous public career, will be in place, derived and condensed from authentic 
 sources, presenting, as it does, such peculiar points of interest. 
 
 The "Swedish nightingale" the "divine Jenny," as she came to be called, as her 
 powers of song were developed, was born at Stockholm, in 1821, and her taste for music 
 was indicated while yet in her third year. At nine or ten, her parents, who were in 
 reduced circumstances, suffered her to go upon the stage, where her success in juvenile 
 characters was astonishing. But when she had reached her twelfth year, after receiving 
 
BKILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LLTSTD. 
 
 387 
 
 instruction from some of the first music 
 masters, she lost her voice. Loving music 
 for its own sake, the " nightingale was 
 bitterly afflicted at this calamity, the more 
 especially as her voice had become a source 
 of comfortable existence. At sixteen, 
 however, it returned, to her infinite joy, 
 under the following peculiar circumstances. 
 
 At a concert, in which the fourth act of 
 Meyerbeer's Robert le Diable had been 
 announced, it was suddenly discovered that 
 a singer to take the part of Alice was 
 wanting. A short solo being all that 
 Alice has to sing in this act, none of the 
 professionals were found desirous of under- 
 taking the character. So trifling a part, 
 her teacher thought, would not be marred, 
 even by Jenny Lind, and accordingly she 
 was intrusted with the execution of the 
 insignificant solo. As, from the most arid 
 spot in the desert, water, sparkling and 
 fresh, will sometimes gush forth, so broke 
 out, on this occasion, the rich fountain of 
 song which had so long been latent in the 
 humble and hitherto silent nightingale. 
 Her voice returne^ with all its pristine 
 sweetness, and with more than its early 
 power, and the most overwhelming ap- 
 plause followed the unexpected discovery 
 of this mine of melody. 
 
 All doubt as to her lyrical excellence 
 was now gone, and towards the winter of 
 
 1838, she made her first appearance on the 
 stage as a singer, in the character of 
 Agatha, in Der Frieschutz. Her exquisite 
 singing, and her acting, abounding in 
 point and originality, created a deep isen- 
 sation; and she won new laurels by her 
 representation of Alice, in the spring of 
 
 1839, and fully established her fame by 
 her subsequent performance of Lucia, in 
 Lucia di Lammermoor. She afterwards 
 visited Paris, to receive lessons from 
 Garcia, the father and instructor of- the 
 ill-fated Madame Malibran, a vocalist 
 who, like Jenny Lind, carried with her the 
 hearts of her auditory. The reception 
 which that eminent composer gave her 
 was, at first, rather discouraging. After 
 hearing her sing, he said 
 
 "My dear young lady, you have no 
 
 voice ; you have had a voice, and will lose 
 it ; you have been singing too early or too 
 much, and your voice is worn to ruin. I 
 cannot instruct you I cannot give you 
 any hope at present. Sing not a note for 
 three months, and then see me again." 
 
 This counsel she follov ed, and when 
 she re-appeared before Garcia, he thought 
 there was some hope of her, and gave her 
 the instructions which she coveted ; but it 
 is remarkable that Garcia should never 
 have had sufficient penetration to discover 
 her innate genius. Soon after this, she 
 made the acquaintance of Meyerbeer, 
 whose discrimination was more searching. 
 A rehearsal was given, with a full orches- 
 tra, at the grand opera, where the per- 
 formance of Jenny Lind so gratified the 
 composer, that hb at once offered her an 
 engagement at .Berlin. 
 
 At the close of 1842, she returned to 
 Stockholm, where her popularity contin- 
 ued to increase. Her fame, however, 
 extending beyond the limits of Sweden, 
 she was induced to make a professional 
 visit to Germany, where public opinion 
 confirmed that high estimate of her abili- 
 ties which had been sanctioned at home. 
 
 But it was in England, that her succes* 
 first touched the marvelous and sublime ; 
 and there it was, that the tribute appro- 
 priated by Shakespeare to one of his beau- 
 tiful creations " She sings like one immor- 
 tal " became fact, applied to the Swedish 
 nightingale. Her Majesty's theater was 
 the first arena of her triumphs in England, 
 Queen Victoria, by her presence on the 
 opening night, offering her a flattering 
 and graceful tribute. On the evening of 
 May fifth, she made her first essay before 
 an English audience, in the character of 
 Alice. The uproar excited by her appear- 
 ance on this occasion was tremendous. 
 The whole crowded mass displayed an 
 astounding power of lungs, and hats and 
 handkerchiefs waved from all parts. Peo- 
 ple came prepared to admire, but they 
 admired beyond the extent of their prep- 
 aration. The delicious quality of the per- 
 formance the rich, gushing notes, were 
 something entirely new and fresh. The 
 
388 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 auditors did not know what to make of it. 
 They had heard singers over and over 
 again ; but there that wondrous thing ! 
 a new sensation was actually created. 
 The sustained notes swelling with full 
 richness, and fading down to the softest 
 piano, without losing one iota of their 
 quality, being delicious when loud, deli- 
 cious when whispered, which dwelt in the 
 public ear and reposed in the public heart, 
 these were the wonder-exciting phenom- 
 ena. The impression made as an actress' 
 was no less profound ; and even in Vienna, 
 the most exacting critics applauded her 
 performance of The Daughter of the Reg- 
 iment, in Donnizetti's renowned opera, 
 as they also did in other cities. 
 
 On returning to Stockholm, in 1848, 
 she entered into an engagement with the 
 royal opera, to give a series of concerts. 
 On the evening of her first performance, 
 the newspapers of the city published a 
 note signed by the renowned cantatrice, in 
 which she stated that, in order to give her 
 native country a souvenir that might last 
 beyond her existence as an artist, she had 
 determined on devoting the whole profits 
 of her performance to the establishment of 
 a school for poor young persons of both 
 sexes, born with happy dispositions, in 
 which they should be gratuitously taught 
 
 music and the dramatic art. This gener- 
 osity excited to the wildest pitch, the 
 public enthusiasm, and on the time arriv- 
 ing for the sale of tickets for the next day, 
 the place was densely crowded. This 
 state of things continued to increase, until 
 about eleven o'clock, when the multitude 
 was such that the police interfered, and 
 made the people form en queue. This was 
 accomplished quietly enough ; but a little 
 after midnight a compact mass of people 
 suddenly made an irruption from the 
 neighboring streets, rushed on the said 
 queue, broke it, and besieged the theater. 
 The first crowd now returned, attacked 
 their aggressors, and in a few minutes a 
 desperate fist and foot combat ensued. 
 The police proved una- 
 vailing, and several de- 
 tachments of infantry 
 arrived ; these also wera 
 formidably opposed, and 
 only with great trouble 
 did they succeed in keep- 
 ing order. Tickets were 
 paid for as high as one 
 hundred dollars. And 
 thus it was, indeed, in all 
 the cities where the great 
 melodist held forth in 
 her discourse of song, 
 the favor shown her in- 
 creasing and accumulat- 
 ing with her progress 
 from place to place. 
 And, certainly, all this 
 success and fame was r.s 
 much a matter of surprise to herself as to 
 anybody else ; for, even in 1845, remarking 
 on her intended performance in Copenha- 
 gen, at which city she had just arrived, she 
 said, with characteristic modesty 
 
 " I have never made my appearance out 
 of Sweden. Everybody in my own land is 
 so affectionate and loving to me. If I 
 made my appearance here, and should be 
 hissed ! I dare not venture on it." 
 
 But the persuasions of Boumonville, the 
 ballet-master, eventually prevailed, and 
 gained for the Copenhageners the greatest 
 enjoyment they ever had. At one concert 
 
BKILLIANT MUSICAL TOUE OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 she sang her Swedish songs. They were 
 so peculiar and so bewitching; that, uttered 
 by such a purely feminine being, their 
 sway was absolutely enrapturing. Her 
 singing was a now revelation in the realm 
 of art. The fresh young voice found its 
 way into every heart. In her truth and 
 nature reigned; everything was full of 
 meaning and intelligence. She was the 
 first artist to whom the Danish students 
 gave a serenade. Torches blazed around 
 the villa, when the serenade was given, 
 and she appeared and expressed her thanks 
 by singing one of her native songs ; after 
 which, she was observed to hasten back 
 into the darkest corner of the room and 
 weep for emotion. 
 
 In the history of the opera, her advent 
 marked a new and striking epoch. She 
 showed the art in all its sanctity. Miss 
 Bremer, writing to Hans Andersen, said: 
 " We are both of us agreed as to Jenny 
 Lind as a singer. She stands as high as 
 any artist of our time well can stand. But 
 as yet you do not know her in her real 
 greatness. Speak to her of her art, and 
 you will wonder at the expansion of her 
 mind. Her countenance is lighted with 
 inspiration. Converse with her upon God, 
 and of the holiness of religion, tears will 
 spring from those innocent eyes. She is 
 a great artist, but she is still greater in 
 the pure humanity of her existence." 
 Indeed, according to Andersen himself, 
 who was familiar with the in-door life of 
 the winsome Swede, nothing could lessen 
 the impression made by Jenny Lind's 
 greatness on the stage, save her personal 
 character in her own home. Her intelli- 
 gent and child-like disposition exercised 
 there a singular power ; and there she was 
 na PP v > belonging no longer to the world. 
 Yet she loved art with her whole soul. 
 She felt her vocation. Her noble and 
 pious disposition could not be spoiled by 
 homage. On one occasion only, says 
 Andersen, did she express, in his hearing, 
 her joy and self-consciousness in her talent, 
 and this occurred as follows : She heard of 
 a society, the object of which was to 
 encourage the rescue of unfortunate chil- 
 
 dren from the hands of their parents, by 
 whom they were compelled to beg or steal, 
 and place them in better circumstances. 
 Benevolent people subscribed annually for 
 their support, yet the means for this 
 excellent purpose were but small. " I 
 have an evening disengaged," said Jenny 
 Lind ; " I will give a performance for these 
 poor children, but we must have double 
 prices." Such a performance was given, 
 and returned large proceeds. When she 
 heard the amount, her countenance lit up, 
 and tears filled her eyes. " It is, however, 
 beautiful," said she, " that I can sing so." 
 
 Having performed in almost all the 
 principal cities and towns in Europe, to 
 vast crowds who were almost frantic in 
 their demonstrations of delight, as well as 
 in the presence of almost every crownad 
 head on the continent, winning their 
 admiring homage, and gaining a fame wide 
 as the world and as bright and pure as the 
 stars, Jenny Lind's inclination appeared to 
 be to retire, at least for a while, on the 
 conclusion of her engagement in England, 
 to the tranquillity of home life. 
 
 It was at this point in her wonderful 
 career, that Mr. Barnum, through his spe- 
 cially commissioned agent, proposed the 
 most liberal and honorable terms to Jenny 
 Lind, to give a series of concerts in the 
 United States. The proposals made by 
 Mr. Barnum were so generous, and char- 
 acterized by such delicate and gentlemanly 
 consideration, in every respect, that, not- 
 withstanding several parties were likewise 
 attempting, at the same time, to negotiate 
 with her for an American tour, she unhes- 
 itatingly decided to treat with Mr. Bar- 
 num, who was, on his own bidding, to 
 assume all the responsibility, and take the 
 entire management and chances of the 
 result upon himself. The manner in 
 which that sagacious and accomplished 
 gentleman carried on an enterprise of such 
 vast magnitude, nearly one hundred con- 
 certs, in all parts of the land, from Boston 
 to Louisiana, and involving more than 
 seven hundred thousand dollars in total 
 receipts, was a monument alike to his 
 genius and to hk superlative executive 
 
390 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 abilities ; a statement, the truth of which 
 will be found abundantly confirmed in the 
 history of this enterprise, as written by 
 Mr. Barnum himself, and from which 
 some of the facts and incidents given below 
 are collated. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, August twenty- 
 first, 1850, Jenny Lind and her two pro- 
 fessional companions, Messrs. Benedict 
 and Belletti, sailed from Liverpool in the 
 steamer Atlantic. It was expected that 
 the steamer would arrive on Sunday, Sep- 
 tember first, but, determined to meet the 
 songstress on her arrival, whenever it 
 might be, Mr. Barnum went to Staten 
 Island on Saturday night, to be in readi- 
 ness to greet the fair stranger. A few 
 minutes before twelve o'clock on Sunday 
 morning, the Atlantic hove in sight, and, 
 immediately afterwards, Mr. Barnum was 
 on board the ship, and had taken Jenny 
 Lind by the hand. After a few moments' 
 conversation, she asked him 
 
 " When and where have you heard me 
 sing ? " 
 
 " I never had the pleasure of seeing you 
 before in my life," replied Mr. Barnum. 
 
 " How is it possible that you dared risk 
 so much money on a person whom you 
 never heard sing ? " she asked in surprise. 
 "I risked it," answered Mr. Barnum, 
 "on your reputation, which in musical 
 matters I would much rather trust than 
 my own judgment." 
 
 Thousands of persons covered the ship- 
 ping and piers, and other thousands con- 
 gregated on the wharf, to see her, the 
 wildest enthusiasm prevailing as the noble 
 steamer approached the dock. So great 
 was the rush on a sloop near the steamer's 
 berth, that one man, in his zeal to obtain 
 a good view, accidentally tumbled over- 
 board amid the shouts of those near him. 
 Jenny witnessed this incident, and was 
 much alarmed. He was, however, soon 
 rescued. A superb bower of green trees, 
 decorated with beautiful flags, was ar- 
 ranged upon the wharf, together with two 
 triumphal arches ; upon one of the latter, 
 was inscribed, " Welcome, Jenny Lind ! " 
 and the other, surmounted by the Ameri- 
 
 can eagle, bore the inscription, " Welcome 
 to America f" Jenny Lind was escorted 
 to Mr. Barnum's private carriage at once, 
 by Captain West. The rest of the musi- 
 cal party entered the carriage, and, mount- 
 ing the box at the driver's side, Mr. 
 Barnum directed him to the Irving House. 
 As a few of the citizens had probably seen 
 Mr. Barnum before, his presence on the 
 outside of the carriage aided those who 
 filled the windows and sidewalks along the 
 whole route in coming to the conclusion 
 that Jenny Lind had arrived ; and a ref- 
 erence to the journals of that day will 
 show, that seldom before had there been 
 such enthusiasm in the city of New York, 
 or indeed in America. 
 
 Within ten minutes after their arrival 
 at the Irving House, not less than ten 
 thousand persons had congregated around 
 the entrance in Broadway. At twelve 
 o'clock that night, she was serenaded by 
 the New York Musical Fund Society, 
 numbering on that occasion two hundred 
 musicians. They were escorted to the 
 Irving House by about three hundred 
 firemen in their red shirts, bearing torches. 
 At least twenty thousand persons were 
 present. The calls for Jenny Lind were 
 so vehement, that Mr. Barnum led her 
 through a window to the balcony ; and 
 now, the loud cheers from the throng lasted 
 several minutes, before the serenade was 
 permitted again to proceed. 
 
 For weeks afterwards, the excitement 
 was unabated. Her rooms were thronged 
 
BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 391 
 
 by visitors, including the magnates of the 
 land, both in church and state, and the 
 carriages of the beau monde were to be 
 seen in front of her hotel, at all fashiona- 
 ble hours. Presents of all sorts were 
 showered upon her. Milliners, mantua- 
 makers, and shopkeepers, vied with each 
 other in calling her attention to their 
 wares, of which they sent her many valua- 
 ble specimens, delighted if in return they 
 could receive her autograph in acknowl- 
 edgment. Songs, quadrilles, and polkas, 
 were dedicated to her, and poets wrote in 
 her praise. There were Jenny Lind 
 gloves, Jenny Lind bonnets, Jenny Lind 
 riding hats, Jenny Lind shawls, mantillas, 
 robes, chairs, sofas, pianos in fact, every- 
 thing was " Jenny Lind." Her move- 
 ments were constantly watched, and the 
 moment her carriage appeared at the door, 
 it was surrounded by multitudes, eager to 
 catch a glimpse of the fair " nightingale." 
 
 Jenny Lind's first concert was fixed to 
 come off at Castle Garden, Wednesday 
 evening, September eleventh, and most of 
 the tickets were sold at auction on the 
 previous Saturday and Monday. Genin, 
 the hatter, purchased the first ticket at 
 two hundred and twenty-five dollars. The 
 arrangements of the concert room were 
 very complete. The great parterre and 
 gallery of Castle Garden were divided by 
 imaginary lines into four compartments, 
 each of which was designated by a lamp of 
 a peculiar color. The tickets were printed 
 in colors corresponding with the location 
 which the holders were to occupy, and 
 there were one hundred ushers, with 
 rosettes, and bearing wands tipped with 
 ribbons of the same hue ; and, though five 
 thousand persons were present, their en- 
 trance was marked by the most perfect 
 order and quiet. 
 
 The reception of Jenny Lind on this 
 her first appearance, in point of enthusi- 
 asm, was probably never before equaled in 
 the world. As Mr. Benedict led her 
 towards the foot-lights, the entire audience 
 rose to their feet and welcomed her with 
 three cheers, accompanied by the waving 
 of thousands of hats and handkerchiefs, 
 
 and the casting of bouquets before her. 
 This was by far the largest audience that 
 Jenny had ever sung in the presence 
 of. She was evidently much agitated, but 
 the orchestra commenced, and before she 
 had sung a dozen notes of " Casta Diva," 
 she began to recover her self-possession, 
 and long before the scene was concluded, 
 she was calm as if sitting in her own 
 drawing-room. Towards the last portion 
 of the cavatina, the audience were so com- 
 pletely carried away by their feelings, 
 that the remainder of the air was drowned 
 in a perfect tempest of acclamation. En- 
 thusiasm had been wrought to its highest 
 pitch, but the musical powers of Jenny 
 Lind exceeded all the brilliant anticipa- 
 tions which had been formed, and her tri- 
 umph was complete. At the conclusion 
 of the concert, Jenny Lind was loudly 
 called for, and was obliged to appear three 
 times before the audience could be satis- 
 fied. They then called vociferously for 
 " Barnum," who reluctantly responded to 
 their demands ; and, on his concluding by 
 saying that the whole proceeds of the con- 
 cert were to yo to charitable objects, it 
 seemed as though the audience would go 
 frantic with applause. 
 
 From New York, Jenny Lind went to 
 Boston, Providence, Philadelphia, Balti- 
 more, Washington, to all the chief cities 
 in the Union, east, west, north, and south ; 
 vast audiences everywhere awaiting her, 
 municipal, musical, and other deputa- 
 tions, tendering their honors, and, during 
 every performance, there was a constant 
 succession of hurrahs, encores, and other 
 demonstrations of intense delight. In 
 Boston, the highest price paid for a ticket 
 was six hundred and twenty-five dollars, 
 by Ossian E. Dodge ; in Providence, six 
 hundred and fifty dollars, by Col. William 
 C. Ross ; in Philadelphia, six hundred and 
 twenty-five dollars, by M. A. Root; in 
 New Orleans, two hundred and forty dol- 
 lars, by Mr. D'Arcy ; in St. Louis, one 
 hundred and fifty dollars, by the keeper 
 of a refreshment saloon; in Baltimore, 
 one hundred dollars, by a daguerreotypist. 
 
 It was in one of the beautiful environs 
 
392 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 JENNY LIND'S APPEARANCE AT CASTLE GARDEN, 
 
 of Boston, that Jenny 
 took her first out-door 
 walk in America. Her lore for the 
 charms of nature was always intense, as 
 the following incident which occurred on 
 another occasion, as related by a stage- 
 driver, will show. A bird of brilliant 
 plumage perched itself on a tree near, as 
 they drove slowly along, and trilled out 
 such a complication of sweet notes as per- 
 fectly astonished her. The coach stopped, 
 and, reaching out, Jenny gave one of her 
 finest roulades. The beautiful creature 
 arched his head on one side, and listened 
 deferentially; then, as if determined to 
 excel his famous rival, raised his graceful 
 throat and sang a song of rippling melody 
 that made Jenny rapturously clap her 
 hands in ecstasy, and quickly, as though she 
 were before a severely critical audience, she 
 delivered some Tyrolean mountain strains, 
 that set the echoes flying; whereupon 
 little birdie took it up, and sang and 
 trilled and sang, till Jenny, in happy 
 delight, acknowledged that the pretty 
 woodland warbler decidedly outcaroled the 
 "Swedish nightingale." 
 
 Jenny Lind's generosity was unbounded. 
 
 To say nothing of her 
 numerous heavy bene- 
 factions to societies and individuals, 
 amounting to some fifty thousand dol- 
 lars, during her brief stay in America, 
 here is an illustration of her sweet tender- 
 ness. One night, while giving concerts in 
 Boston, a girl approached the ticket-office, 
 and laying down three dollars for a ticket, 
 remarked, "There goes half a month's 
 earnings, but I am determined to hear 
 Jenny Lind sing.'' Her secretary heard 
 the remark, and in a few minutes after- 
 wards, coming into Jenny's room, he 
 laughingly related to her the circumstance. 
 " Would you know the girl again ? " asked 
 Jenny, with an earnest look. Upon re- 
 ceiving an affirmative reply, she placed a 
 twenty-dollar gold coin in his hand, and 
 said, "Poor girl ! give her that, with my 
 best compliments." 
 
 While in the same city, a poor Swedish 
 girl, a domestic in a family at Eoxbury, 
 called on Jenny. Jenny detained her vis- 
 itor several hours, talking about " home " 
 and other matters, and in the evening 
 took her in her carriage to the concert, 
 gave her a seat, and sent her back to Rox. 
 
BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 393 
 
 bury in a carriage at the close of the per- 
 formance. Doubtless the poor girl carried 
 with her substantial evidences of her 
 countrywoman's bounty. 
 
 On the morning after her arrival at 
 Washington, President Fillmore called, 
 and left his card, Jenny being out. She 
 returned his call the next day, and 
 subsequently, by presidential request, 
 passed an evening at the White House, 
 in the private circle of the president's 
 family. 
 
 Both concerts in Washington were 
 attended by the president and his family, 
 and every member of the cabinet. It hap- 
 pened that, on the day of one of these 
 concerts, several members of the cabinet 
 and senate were dining with Mr. Bodisco, 
 the Russian minister, whose good dinner 
 and choice wines had kept the party so 
 late that the concert had progressed quite 
 far when Webster, Crittenden, and others, 
 came in. Whether from the hurry in 
 which they came, or from the heat of the 
 room, their faces were a little flushed, and 
 they all looked somewhat flurried. After 
 the applause with which these dignitaries 
 were received had subsided, and silence 
 was once more restored, the second part of 
 the concert was opened by Jenny Lind, 
 with "Hail Columbia." At the close of 
 the first verse, Webster's patriotism boiled 
 over. He could stand it no longer, and ; 
 rising like Olympian Jove, he added his 
 deep, sonorous, bass voice to the chorus. 
 Mrs. Webster, who sat immediately be- 
 hind him, kept tugging at his coat-tail to 
 make him sit down or stop singing; but it 
 was of no earthly use. At the close of 
 each verse, Webster joined in ; and it was 
 hard to say whether Jenny Lind, Webster, 
 or the audience was the most delighted. 
 At the close of the air, Mr. Webster arose, 
 hat in hand, and made her such a bow as 
 Chesterfield would have deemed a fortune 
 for his son, and which eclipsed D'Orsay's 
 best. Jenny Lind, sweetly blushing at 
 the distinguished honor, courtesied to the 
 floor; the audience applauded to the very 
 echo. Webster, determined not to be out- 
 done in politeness, bowed again ; Jenny 
 
 Lind re-curtesied, the house re-applauded ; 
 and this was repeated several times. 
 
 And so, in the case of Mr. Clay. 
 Scarcely had the overture been half played 
 through, than a murmur was heard from 
 the end of the building. It was hushed 
 instantly, and the overture was played to 
 its close. And now burst out a long and 
 loud shout of applause. For a moment, 
 Benedict, the conductor, looked around, 
 somewhat astonished. He, however, saw 
 immediately that this applause had not 
 been called forth by the orchestra. The 
 tall, slim, thin figure of an aged man 
 with a grayish blue eye, vivid and spark- 
 ling, and a capacious, broad mouth was 
 slowly advancing up the room. It was 
 Henry Clay. As he moved on, the shouta 
 and applause redoubled. He, bowing on 
 every side, continued his path feebly, and 
 somewhat cautiously. At length he 
 reached his seat, and the applause ceased 
 for a moment. Then a voice at the upper 
 end of the hall cried out, " Three cheers 
 for Harry Clay ! " The building almost 
 rocked with the vehemence of the re- 
 sponse. 
 
 While in Washington, Jenny Lind was 
 called on by hosts of the eminent men of 
 the land, including Mr. Webster, Mr. 
 Clay, General Cass, and Colonel Benton. 
 And, indeed, wherever she went, from one 
 end of the country to the other, the same 
 scene presented itself, of distinguished 
 honors to this Divinity of Song, admiring 
 and enthusiastic communities turning out 
 to welcome, and crowded audiences rap- 
 turous under the overpowering enchant- 
 ment of her voice. Jenny Lind's net 
 avails of the ninety-five concerts given by 
 her under Mr. Barnum's auspices, in the 
 short space of eight months, were little 
 short of $177,000, or nearly double the 
 amount, per concert, named in their origi- 
 nal contract. Subsequently, she gave a 
 few concerts on her own account. In 
 February, 1852, she was married, in 
 Boston, to Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, a young 
 German composer and pianist, who had 
 studied music with her in that country, 
 and who played several times in her Amer- 
 
394 
 
 BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. 
 
 ican concerts. Shortly after her marriage, 
 they left for Europe. Her professional 
 tour in America was far more brilliant and 
 successful than that of any other performer, 
 male or female, musical, theatrical, or 
 operatic, who ever appeared before an 
 American audience. The names of Kem- 
 ble, Malibran, Celeste, Ellsler, Tree, Kean, 
 Garcia, Ole Bull, Paganini, Rossini, Julien, 
 Ristori, Rachel, Parepa, Alboni, Dean, 
 Phillips, Kellogg, Sontag, Wood, Gotts- 
 chalk, etc., etc., all pale before that of the 
 fair Swede. 
 
 Describing Jenny Lind's voice scientific- 
 ally, it should be spoken of as a soprano, 
 embracing a register of two and a half 
 octaves. Clear and powerful, susceptible 
 of the greatest variety of intonation, it 
 met all the demands of the composer with 
 the greatest facility to its possessor. No 
 difficulties appalled her ; a perfect musi- 
 
 cian, she suffered herself to revel in all the 
 roulades of which the time and occasion 
 admitted. Her upper notes filled the 
 vastest area with an effect to which noth- 
 ing but the striking of a fine-toned bell 
 could be compared, while her most gentle 
 and subdued passages were audible at the 
 greatest distances. In a word, there was 
 a rare combination of qualities which 
 raised her above all other singers ever 
 heard. Her voice sweet, powerful, mel- 
 low, resonant, faultless in tone, and full of 
 sympathetic emotion; her execution 
 ready and facile ; her manner earnest not 
 only in the expression of every word, but in 
 her looks, her air, her abstraction from ev- 
 ery surrounding object ; to have seen and 
 heard this, even once, was, in the language 
 of one who had been thus favored, " a treat 
 to last until we go to heaven, where, and 
 where alone, such musia nasn be heard." 
 
XLIX. 
 
 REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN CALI- 
 FORNIA. 1851. 
 
 Revolution in the Administration of Justice. Powerlessness and Indifference of the Regular Authori- 
 ties. Robbery, Arson, and Murder, Alarmingly Prevalent. The Committee's Secret Chamber of 
 Judgment Sudden Seizure and Trial of Noted Criminals. Solemn Tolling of the Signal Bell. 
 Swift and Terrible Executions. Renovation of Society. Swarming of Desperate Felons. England's 
 Penal Colonies Emptied. Organized Society of " Hounds." A Band of Cut-throats. Society at 
 Tlieir Mercy. Harvests Reaped by Them. Corrupt Courts and Officers. The Vigilance Commit- 
 tee Formed. Prompt, Resolute, Powerful. The Crimiuals Taken Unawares. Instant Summons to 
 Death. A Gallows at Midnight. Extraordinary Horrors. Confessions by the Victims. Astound- 
 ing Revelations. Magistrates Implicated. Warnings by the Committee. A Double Execution. 
 Thousands of Spectators. Wild Shouts of Approval. The Lawless Classes Terrified. The Results 
 of the Movement. 
 
 We are determined that no thief, burglar, incendiury, assassin, ballot-box stuffer, or other disturber of the peace, sholl escape punish- 
 ment, either by the qaibbles of the law, the insecurity of prisons, the carelessness or corruption of the police, or a laxitj of those who pretend 
 to administer justice." ADDBESS OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 PflGILANCE committees, and "lynch law," are terms of similar and famil- 
 iar meaning, in the American vocabulary. But nowhere else 
 within the borders of the great republic has the operation of this 
 P3J summary method of dealing with offenders who would otherwise 
 go " unwhipped of justice," been so resolute, so frequent, and so 
 effective, as in California. Nor, perhaps, has it ever been more 
 excusable, as an extreme public necessity. Such was the 
 unsettled condition of society in that remote territory, 
 during the earlier years of its mining history, so multi- 
 plied and daring the crimes against life and property, 
 and so inefficient as well as glaringly corrupt, the courts 
 and judges, that, for a time, robbery, murder, arson, and 
 violence were completely in the ascendant, so that every 
 man not actually in league with the perpetrators 
 of these outrages, was put on the defensive, car- 
 rying his weapons by day, and sleeping on them 
 at night. Bold and defiant in their successful 
 career of crime, numbers of these outlaws 
 formed themselves into a mutual organiza- 
 tion, with regular head-quarters, and assumed 
 the name of "hounds." They swarmed the 
 city and the country, and, in their skilled arts 
 of villainy, as thieves, pickpockets, gamblers, 
 incendiaries, and assassins, numbered their 
 victims by hundreds. In addition to this, 
 
 DOUBLE EXECI'TIO.N IX SAS FRANCISCO. 
 
396 
 
 REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 large numbers of felons found their way 
 to California, from the convict islands of 
 Van Dieman's Land and New South 
 Wales, and there, under the existing lax- 
 ity of law and audacity of crime, reaped a 
 rich harvest. 
 
 Such, then, was the condition of affairs 
 throughout the state, when, goaded and 
 outraged beyond endurance, the well-dis- 
 posed citizens determined to become a law 
 unto themselves, and to administer that 
 law in the interests of justice and self-pro- 
 tection, with promptness and decision. Ex- 
 amples were not long wanting for the exe- 
 cution of their purpose ; and, in pursuance 
 of the same end, the citizens of San Fran- 
 cisco soon found their wrongs being re- 
 dressed by a powerful voluntary organiza- 
 tion of the most influential men in the city, 
 styled the Vigilance Committee, who, in 
 the constitution of their association, de- 
 clared that they thus united themselves 
 together, "to preserve the lives and prop- 
 erty of the citizens of San Francisco, 
 binding themselves, each unto the other, 
 to do and perform every lawful act for the 
 maintenance of law and order, and to sus- 
 tain the laws when faithfully and properly 
 administered, but determined that no 
 thief, burglar, incendiary, or assassin, es- 
 cape punishment, either by the quibbles of 
 the law, the insecurity of prisons, the care- 
 lessness or corruption of the police, or a 
 laxity on the part of those pretending to 
 administer justice." 
 
 The first, and one of the most exciting 
 of the cases growing out of this extraor- 
 dinary organization, occurred in San Fran- 
 cisco, in June, 1851, when a Sidney con- 
 vict was caught in the act of carrying 
 away a small safe which he had stolen. 
 The man, a desperate character, was seized 
 by some members of the vigilance commit- 
 tee, who conducted him forthwith to their 
 head-quarters, where he was tried in the 
 presence of about eighty members of the 
 association sitting with closed doors, by 
 them convicted, and sentenced to be hung 
 in Portsmouth Square, that night. Dur- 
 ing the progress of the trial, the citizens 
 had assembled in large numbers about the 
 
 building and in Portsmouth Square, the 
 bell on the engine-house at the latter local- 
 ity having rung the pre-arranged signal, 
 to give notice of the proceedings going on. 
 
 Though very much excited, the populace 
 were not disorderly. Some disapprobation 
 was manifested at the secrecy of the com- 
 mittee's doings ; but when the result was 
 known, there was a very general acquies- 
 cence, although there were many who 
 deemed the punishment too severe for the 
 'offense, and others thought he should be 
 executed in broad daylight. As soon as 
 the sentence was passed, the bell on the 
 California Engine House, near by, com- 
 menced to toll the funeral knell of the 
 wretched man. This was at one o'clock, 
 midnight. Captain Ray, of the police 
 force, applied at the door of the commit- 
 tee's room, and demanded the prisoner, 
 but was refused several times, and al- 
 though others of the police force were on 
 the ground, they saw it was of no use to 
 attempt a rescue. 
 
 Some person climbed the liberty pole to 
 rig a block for the execution, but a loud 
 shout of "Don't hang him on the liberty 
 pole" arose from all quarters. Voices 
 screamed out, " To the old adobe," and a 
 rush was made for that edifice, upon the 
 corner of the square, formerly occupied as 
 the custom-house. At the end of the build- 
 ing, a block was rigged, and a long rope 
 run through it. In the meantime, a num- 
 ber of the police who were on the ground, 
 made several attempts to obtain possession 
 of the prisoner, whose arms were tightly 
 pinioned and who was closely surrounded 
 by an armed and resolute body of the com- 
 mittee, but they were sternly prevented; 
 had they persisted, they would have been 
 riddled with balls. Several citizens de- 
 nounced the execution, and sought to aid 
 the police. 
 
 The prisoner by this time was nearly 
 dead with fear and rough handling, when 
 a rush was made toward him, a noose 
 thrown over his head, the rope manned by 
 twenty ready hands, who ran backwards, 
 dragging the wretched man along the 
 ground, until, raising him swiftly to the 
 
REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 397 
 
 beam, the heavy form of the convicted 
 felon dangled from the block. A few fear- 
 ful struggles, a quiver of the hempen cord, 
 a few nervous twitches, and the crowd 
 gazed upon the lifeless corpse of him upon 
 whom such speedy and terrible vengeance 
 had been executed by an outraged people. 
 At six o'clock, the city marshal cut down 
 the body and consigned it to the dead- 
 house. 
 
 Thus ended the first execution which 
 ever took place in San Francisco, where 
 more crime had been committed during 
 the year past than in any other city of the 
 same population in the Union, without 
 one single instance of adequate punish- 
 ment. Of the guilt of Jenkins there was 
 no doubt. He had long been known to 
 the police as a desperate character from 
 the English penal colonies, where he had 
 passed many years as a transported con- 
 
 &\ VIGILANCE /* 
 
 
 SEAL OP THE CALIFOKNIA VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 vict. A profound impression was produced 
 throughout California, as also in every 
 other section of the country, by these ex- 
 traordinary but imperative proceedings. 
 
 Only a month elapsed from this time, 
 when another and similar scene of horror 
 was enacted. This was the case of James 
 Stuart, one of a regular gang of thieves 
 and murderers, and who, from his own 
 confession, had committed almost every 
 known crime' and outrage. He was delib- 
 erately tried on various charges by the 
 vigilance committee, found guilty, and 
 sentenced to be hung, all of which he ac- 
 knowledged to be just. At nine o'clock in 
 the morning, July eleventh, the bell of the 
 
 Monumental Engine Company's house on 
 the plaza, attracted everybody's attention 
 known, as it was, to be a signal of the 
 vigilance committee, and people soon be- 
 gan to throng down in the direction of the 
 committee's quarters. The bell tolled for 
 about half an hour, guns were fired from 
 a brig in the harbor, and many of the ves- 
 sels in the harbor had their flags displayed. 
 About half-past one o'clock, some one came 
 out of the "chamber of judgment," and 
 read a portion of Stuart's confession, and it 
 was stated that he would be hung in an 
 hoiy, a proposition which the crowd sanc- 
 tioned almost unanimously. The news 
 spread, and the crowd increased im- 
 mensely. The committee now came down 
 stairs, and formed three abreast ; there 
 were hundreds of them, principally com- 
 posed of the oldest, best known, and most 
 prominent citizens. Previous to this, a 
 clergyman had been sent for, who remained 
 with Stuart two hours. 
 
 A gallows of plain uprights and a cross- 
 beam had been erected, a block with a rope 
 in it, and the noose ready made. On the 
 way down, Stuart appeared perfectly cool 
 and collected. On reaching the gallows, 
 the rope was placed around his neck, and, 
 with the exception of a slight paleness, 
 there was no change in his appearance, no 
 trembling, no agitation. He appeared to 
 feel as though he was satisfied with his 
 sentence and did not desire to live longer. 
 
 The immense crowd remained breathless, 
 and Stuart, when under the gallows, said, 
 " / die reconciled ; my sentence is just." 
 The rope was pulled, and in a moment he 
 was swinging in the air. As he went up, 
 he closed his eyes and clasped his hands 
 together. He had previously requested 
 that his face might not be covered. He 
 scarcely gave a struggle ; and although the 
 knot was on the back of his neck, appeared 
 to suffer but little pain. A slight contrac- 
 tion of the lower limbs, and a strained 
 heaving of the chest for a moment, were 
 all the symptoms of approaching death. 
 After hanging about five minutes, his hat 
 blew off, and exposed to view the ghastly 
 features of the murderer and robber. 
 
3 ( J8 
 
 BEIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 When he had hung about twenty minutes, 
 he was cut down by the corouer. There 
 was no attempt at a rescue, and everything 
 was conducted with perfect order, but the 
 greatest determination. Stuart's confes- 
 sion was one unvarying record of daring 
 crimes, showing, in a startling manner, 
 the dangers of California life and prop- 
 erty. A large number of persons, some of 
 them holding office, and of reputable stand- 
 ing, were implicated in Stuart's confession, 
 it appearing that the association of 
 thieves, burglars, and assassins, to which 
 Stuart belonged, extended throughout the 
 entire state that judges and public prose- 
 cutors were in some places in league with 
 the association that subornation of per- 
 jury was one of the commonest expedients 
 to achieve the impunity of the criminal, 
 and to baffle the working of the law 
 that the burning of San Francisco was 
 several times resolved upon in revenge 
 and that life wa. not regarded at a straw's 
 yalue when money was to be obtained by 
 murder. 
 
 Determined to be thorough in their work 
 of purification, the committee served no- 
 tices upon every vicious or suspected per- 
 son, whose name could be obtained, with a 
 warning to depart forthwith. This, with 
 the swift and terrible executions already 
 witnessed, caused multitudes to flee for 
 their lives. Crime rapidly diminished, 
 and now, for the first time, almost, for 
 years, citizens felt secure in their persons 
 and possessions. 
 
 But the vigilance of the co/nmittee did 
 not for a -moment relax, and, in a few 
 weeks after the disposal of Stuart, they 
 had in their hands two notorious robbers 
 and incendiaries, named Whittaker and 
 McKenzie. They were tried, found guilty, 
 and condemned to the gallows. They 
 themselves confessed their guilt, and a day 
 was fixed for their execution. In the 
 meantime, Governor McDougall issued a 
 writ of habeas corpus, which was handed 
 to Sheriff Hayes, commanding him to take 
 the bodies of Whittake/ and McKenzie, 
 and bring them into court, to be dealt with 
 according to law. 
 
 Colonel Hayes and some of his deputies 
 immediately repaired to the rooms of the 
 committee, having declined a posse of police 
 offered to accompany them. The police, 
 however, followed, with some stragglers 
 who wished to see the result. The sheriff 
 and Mr. Caperton walked up stairs and 
 entered the room, unresisted. Mr. Caper- 
 ton advanced to the room in which the 
 prisoners were confined, announced him- 
 self to be the deputy sheriff, and called on 
 'the two men, Whittaker and McKenzie, 
 to accompany him, Colonel Hayes mean- 
 time guarding the door. When the party 
 was about to leave, one of the committee 
 laid his hand upon the sheriff's shoulder 
 and attempted to push him from the door, 
 but Colonel Hayes told him he was there 
 to do his duty and was obliged to do it; 
 to prevent bloodshed, they were allowed to 
 proceed. Two of the members of the com- 
 mittee, suspecting treachery, had at the 
 same time let themselves down from the 
 windows, and at once gave the alarm by 
 ringing the bell. 
 
 This was a little before the break of day, 
 and immediately the members came pour- 
 ing in from all directions. Amid intense 
 excitement, the meeting organized, and 
 the circumstances were detailed. The 
 person who had charge of the room was 
 bitterly denounced. Various propositions 
 were made, but no action taken. The se- 
 quel was yet to come. 
 
 It was about half-past two o'clock on 
 Sunday afternoon, August 24th, that the 
 bell of the Monumental Engine Company 
 commenced tolling in a very rapid manner, 
 and the news soon spread like wildfire, that 
 the prisoners, Whittaker and McKenzie, 
 had been taken out of the county jail by 
 some members of the vigilance committee ! 
 
 The manner of the rescue was as follows : 
 About quarter-past two o'clock, the prison- 
 ers were taken out of their cells to attend 
 the usual Sunday services conducted by 
 Rev. Mr. Williams. Soon after they were 
 called out, the attention of Captain Lam- 
 bert, keeper of the jail, was called to th 
 gate, by the sentry who was on the roof, 
 . and instantly the doors were burst open, a 
 
BEIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 399 
 
 rush made, and Captain Lambert thrown 
 apon the ground and held. The prisoners 
 were at the same moment seized and car- 
 ried out. A carriage was outside, iu which 
 the criminals were placed; and a pair of 
 fins, dashing gray horses sprang at the 
 word in the direction of Dupont street. 
 At this juncture, the bell of the Monu- 
 mental was rung in quick, sharp strokes. 
 The excitement and uproar were terrific, 
 the multitude surging now this way, now 
 that, as the carriage dashed fiercely along. 
 Pistols were held at the heads of the cap- 
 tives while they rode along, and almost 
 before the crowd realized what had hap- 
 pened, the prisoners were safe in the com- 
 mittee's chamber of judgment. The pris- 
 oners were taken by about forty armed 
 persons, just as the sermon in the prison 
 had been concluded, and resisted to the 
 utmost the strong arm of the capturers, 
 weapons being presented with deadly aim 
 on both sides. 
 
 From every ward in the city, and from 
 the most remote suburban parts within the 
 sound of the Vigilance bell, people came 
 flocking, breathless and excited, to the 
 scene of execution. The streets presented 
 a scene of furious, mad disorder. Living 
 masses surged down the by-ways, through 
 the thoroughfares, and over the planked 
 roads, until the tramp and roar of the mul- 
 titude sounded like the beating of the 
 ocean waves upon a stormy shore. Mont- 
 gomery street poured its tide of human 
 masses into California street, and the lat- 
 ter emptied its living contents, like a 
 mighty river, upon the spot where the 
 prisoners had been taken by their captors, 
 namely, the vigilance committee's cham- 
 bers two large frame-houses, ranged side 
 by side, of two-story construction, their 
 gable ends fronting Battery street, in the 
 block between California and Pine streets. 
 The lower floors of these buildings were oc- 
 cupied as stores the upper apartments as 
 the Vigilance chambers, each having heavy 
 double doors, opening upon Battery street, 
 above which projected timbers and pulleys, 
 such as are used in store-lofts for the pur- 
 pose of hoisting goods from the ground. 
 
 And now an outcry and huzza rent the 
 air, and was borne up from the rooms of 
 the committee far into the city, until ten 
 thousand throats seemed to join in a gen- 
 eral cheer and shout of congratulation. 
 The committee were prepariny to execute 
 justice upon the criminals! A carriage 
 dashed round the corner and up California 
 street. It was greeted with cheer after 
 cheer. The driver stood up in his box, 
 waved his hat, and huzzaed in reply. 
 This was the carriage in which the prison- 
 ers had been carried off from the county 
 jail, and which was now returning from 
 the committee rooms. It was drawn by 
 gray-white horses, whose sides were reek- 
 ing with foam and perspiration. 
 
 In the southern chamber, a rope had 
 been 'reeved' through the block attached 
 to the beam above the left door. When 
 the door of the northern chamber opened, 
 a few members appeared without their 
 coats, and addressed a few words to the 
 masses below, announcing the capture of 
 the prisoners. Cries of " hang them up ! " 
 " now and here ! " ensued, and the tumult 
 each moment grew greater. " We have 
 them never fear it is all right" re- 
 sponded the committee ; and a thundering 
 shout of wild congratulation went up from 
 the surging mass. A few of the commit- 
 tee then smashed out the glass above the 
 door of the southern chamber, and one of 
 their number mounted into the opening, 
 holding one end of a rope. Dexterously 
 clinging to the clapboards on the outside, 
 he managed to pass the rope through the 
 block, and returned with the two ends to 
 the floor. Both doors of the committee 
 rooms were then closed the fatal ropes 
 inside. 
 
 Seventeen minutes had now been spent 
 in rescuing the prisoners from the jail, 
 conveying them to the rooms, and com- 
 pleting the preliminaries of their execu- 
 tion. The great, dense, agitated crowd 
 that covered the roofs, and clung by doz- 
 ens to the sides of all the adjoining houses, 
 and packed the streets, darkened the walls, 
 and filled the rigging and boats along the 
 docks, presented an awful and imposing 
 
400 
 
 KEIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 EXECUTIONS BT THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN SAN FHANCI9CO. 
 
 spectacle of excited, impatient and resolute 
 manhood. Ten thousand faces were up- 
 turned, when the doors of both chambers 
 were simultaneously jerked open, present- 
 ing to view each of the prisoners, half sur- 
 rounded at each door by committee men. 
 A terrific shout rent the air. 
 
 The multitude tossed to and fro above 
 all, amid all, calmly but sternly stood the 
 band of vigilants, and in their hands the 
 fainting, drooping, gasping criminals, their 
 arms pinioned and their feet secured. 
 The rope was about their necks, their 
 coats having been removed, and they stood 
 aghast and trembling in the brief second 
 of lifetime allowed them to confront the 
 stormy sea of human beings below. An- 
 other second of time, and they were tossed 
 far out into space, and drawn like light- 
 ning to the beam's end. Both were exe- 
 cuted at one and the same instant, the 
 signal being given throughout the cham- 
 bers, and the members rushing back with 
 the rope until the culprits each had been 
 dragged to the block, and hung almost 
 motionless by the neck. Then a few con- 
 vulsive throbs, and all was over. McKen- 
 zie was attired in gray pants and coarse 
 shirt, and was hung from the beam in front 
 
 of the northern room ; while 
 being dragged to the fatal spot from the 
 further end of the room, he manifested the 
 most overwhelming fright and terror, 
 and the countenance he exhibited, when 
 brought up to the door, was one never to 
 be forgotten by those who looked upon it 
 his face was pallid, his eyes upturned, his 
 hair appeared to stand out from the scalp, 
 and every fiber of his flesh quivered and 
 seemed to clutch existence. Whittaker 
 was more indifferent and unmoved ; but he 
 was cleanly dressed, and was much the bet- 
 ter looking man of the two. 
 
 Such terrible and repeated examples of 
 swift justice at the hands of the commit- 
 tee, proved effective, to a great degree, in 
 cleansing San Francisco from the horde of 
 criminals with which it had so sorely been 
 infested, and, for a long time after, the 
 citizens ceased to live in terror of burglars, 
 robbers, assassins, and incendiaries. In 
 Sacramento, too, where similar scenes of 
 retribution had been enacted, resulting in 
 the summary execution of those noted fel- 
 ons, Eoe, Robinson, Gibson, and Thomp- 
 son, the work of reformation seemed well- 
 nigh effectual. Indeed, the occupation of 
 a vigilance committee appeared to be over 
 
KEIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 401 
 
 and it existed, therefore, for years, as 
 scarcely more than a nominal organization. 
 
 In 1856, however, crime had again be- 
 come so rampant and stalked abroad with 
 such impunity, that the vigilance com- 
 mittee once more took justice into its own 
 hands, with an iron and uncompromising 
 sway, though this time not without a fearful 
 struggle with the constituted authorities. 
 
 The great exciting provocation to the 
 resumption of the committee's work, at 
 this period, was the deliberate and cold- 
 blooded murder of James King of William 
 (an appellation which he carried with him 
 from Virginia), editor of the Evening Bul- 
 letin, by James P. Casey, editor of the 
 Sunday Times, both of San Francisco. 
 Mr. King was one of the earliest emigrants 
 to California, and was a man universally 
 respected and admired for his probity and 
 independence. He began the publication 
 of the Bulletin with the avowed purpose 
 of denouncing the political and moral cor- 
 ruption which had gained for San Fran- 
 cisco such an unenviable reputation. The 
 manliness and courage with which he pur- 
 sued this work of reform gained for him 
 the friendship of right-minded people of 
 every class, and, as a matter of course, the 
 enmity of the dishonest and criminal. 
 Casey, the murderer, was, both in private 
 character and habits and in his connection 
 with municipal politics, a man of the class 
 to whom Mr. King was most likely to be 
 obnoxious. 
 
 On the fourteenth of May, Mr. King, 
 in a rejoinder to an attack made upon him 
 in the Times, stated that the editor of that 
 journal, Casey, had been an inmate of 
 Sing Sing prison, and had secured his 
 election to an office in San Francisco by 
 fraud. Casey called on King for satisfac- 
 tion, failing to obtain which, he at once 
 watched for him on the street, and, at five 
 o'clock on the evening of the same day, 
 the two met in public. With hardly a. 
 word of warning giving his victim no 
 time for defense, Casey drew a revolver, 
 and shot Mr. King through the left breast. 
 The latter lingered for a few days and 
 
 died on the 20th. 
 
 26 
 
 The murder was followed by the arrest 
 of Casey, and he was conveyed to jail 
 amidst intense popular excitement, his 
 immediate execution being demanded by 
 the infuriated multitude. A party of men, 
 numbering several hundred, got together, 
 armed themselves, put several small can- 
 non on drays, and were on the point of 
 starting to attack the jail, but finally de- 
 sisted. It soon became evident that noth- 
 ing could be done without an organization, 
 now deemed imperative. A horde of mur- 
 derers and other notoriously bad men had 
 collected in the city, and had long gone 
 unpunished and unterrified. The next 
 morning, therefore, the members of the 
 old vigilance committee met, and began to 
 admit new members. For three days they 
 sat in almost constant session secretly. 
 About twenty-five hundred members, old 
 and new, were admitted, these binding 
 themselves to obey a committee of fifty, 
 who alone knew what was to be done. 
 
 On the following Sunday morning, the 
 committee were ordered to assemble, and 
 be armed with a musket and revolver each. 
 They were divided off into companies, and 
 officers appointed. A six-pounder cannon 
 was provided, and at ten o'clock they 
 marched to the jail, which they sur- 
 rounded. The cannon was loaded, and 
 every musket was loaded with ball and had 
 a fixed bayonet. At one o'clock, Casey, 
 at his own request, desirous, as he said, 
 to prevent bloodshed, was surrendered to 
 the committee, who conducted him in a 
 carriage to their chambers. Subsequently 
 they took Charles Cora, the murderer of 
 General Richardson, United States mar- 
 shal, unconvicted on account of the jury 
 disagreeing, and lodged him in one of their 
 rooms. All this took place amidst the 
 most perfect silence and order ; the forces 
 of the committee marched to the jail with- 
 out bugle or drum, and hardly a word was 
 spoken, even by the thousands of specta- 
 tors who witnessed the scene. 
 
 The funeral of Mr. King was marked by 
 every manifestation of popular respect for 
 the deceased. Stores were closed, houses 
 were hung with black, men wore crape on 
 
402 
 
 REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE. 
 
 their arms, bells were tolled, and flags 
 were displayed at half-mast. Meanwhile, 
 Casey and Cora's crimes had been adjudged 
 worthy of death, and, notwithstanding the 
 great gathering at the funeral, the rooms 
 of the committee were surrounded by about 
 twenty thousand people, who had got an 
 intimation that the committee, fearing a 
 rescue, had determined to hang the crimi- 
 nals forthwith. 
 
 A most formidable guard was arranged 
 by the committee, numbering about three 
 thousand stand of muskets and two field- 
 pieces. The streets in the immediate vi- 
 cinity of the rooms were cleared by the 
 soldiers, and the bristling bayonets that 
 were displayed in every direction made the 
 scene one of great solemnity. 
 
 At about one o'clock, the workmen were 
 seen preparing the gallows in front of the 
 committee rooms, now located in a two- 
 story granite building, a platform being 
 extended from each of two front windows 
 of the second floor, extending about three 
 feet beyond the line of the building, and 
 provided with a hinge at the outer line of 
 the window sill, the extreme end being 
 held up by means of a cord attached to a 
 beam, which projected from the roof of the 
 building, and to which the fatal rope was 
 also attached. 
 
 Soon the prisoners were brought to the 
 windows, in view of the multitude, dressed 
 in their usual garments, and mounted the 
 platform, having their arms pinioned. 
 They both appeared to be firm, and but 
 little affected by the dreadful fate that 
 awaited them. Before placing the rope 
 upon their necks, an opportunity was given 
 
 them to speak to the people assembled. 
 Casey made a few remarks, but Cora did 
 not speak. At twenty minutes past one 
 o'clock, everything being ready, the signal 
 was given, the cord that held up the outer 
 end of the scaffolds or platforms was cut 
 upon the roof of the building, and the doom- 
 ed men were both launched into eternity. 
 
 The work of death being ended, the 
 body of armed men who had acted as 
 guards, were all drawn up in line, and 
 reviewed by the superior officers; after 
 which, they countermarched down to the 
 rooms, and, entering one door, stacked 
 their arms, filed out at another door, and 
 mingled with the citizens. 
 
 Extending its operations throughout the 
 state, the committee determined to effect 
 a complete renovation of society, to break 
 up and drive from the state the bands of 
 felons with which it was infested, and to 
 awe into submission the political bullies 
 who so largely controlled the elections. 
 After executing some four criminals, and 
 transporting or banishing many more, 
 thus securing comparative quiet and order, 
 the committee relinquished its administra- 
 tion of justice; the same was the case in 
 Sacramento, Stockton, San Jose, and other 
 places, where crime, unawed and unpun- 
 ished by courts, had been thus summarily 
 and sternly dealt with by an outraged 
 community. The committee on no occa- 
 sion denied the illegality of their acts; 
 they defended their course solely on the 
 ground that there was no security for life 
 or property either under the regulations of 
 society, as then existing, or under the laws 
 as then administered. 
 
', 
 
 VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT "AMERICA," IN THE 
 GREAT INTERNATIONAL REGATTA. 1851. 
 
 She Distances, by Nearly Eight Miles, the Whole Fleet of Swift and Splendid Competitors, and Wins 
 "the Cup of all Nations." Grandest and Most Exciting Spectacle of the Kind Ever Known. Queen 
 Victoria Witnesses the Match. Universal Astonishment at the Result. Admiration Elicited hy the 
 " America's " Beautiful Model and Ingenious Rig. Scenes at the " World's Exhibition " at London. 
 Grand Finale Yet to Come Off. Championship of the Sea. England Sensitive on this Point. Her 
 Motto, " Rule Britannia 1" George Steers Builds the America. Commodore Stevens Takes Her to 
 England His Challenge to All Countries. An International Prize Race. Eighteen Yachts Entered. 
 The Scene on Wave and Shore. All Sails Set : The Signal. Every Eye on " the Yankee." Her 
 Leisurely Movements. Allows Herself to be Distanced Her Quality Soon Shown. No "Belly ing" 
 of Canvas. Amazing Increase of Speed. All Rivals Passed, One by One. They Return in 
 Despair. Great Odds for the America. Is Visited by Queen Victoria. 
 
 On 6TCT7 tide was heard the hall, " In the America first ? "The answer, *' YM I " 
 con Tims. 
 
 ' Whit's second ? "The rtply, " NOTBWO I " LOH- 
 
 RATIFYING, in the highest degree, to the pride of every American, was the 
 announcement that, in the great and exciting international yacht 
 race, which formed, in an important sense, the grand 
 finale of the " Exhibition of the Industry of AH 
 Nations," held in London, in 1851, the victory had 
 been won by the clipper yacht America, of one 
 hundred and seventy tons, built by Mr. George 
 Steers, of Brooklyn, N. Y., and commanded by 
 Commodore John C. Stevens, also of New York. 
 The prize was no less than "The Cup of all Na- 
 tions." 
 
 Making but an indifferent show of contributions 
 to the various departments of art, science, and 
 manufactures, at that renowned exposition, the 
 conclusion had become universal, that the United 
 States would gain but little eclat in that magnifi- 
 cent congress of the industries of civilization. One 
 trial of championship, however, was yet to be made 
 and determined, the supremacy, in respect to 
 
 architectural model, equipment, nautical skill, and power of speed, upon that element, 
 the dominion of which has ever been the coveted achievement of every maritime coun- 
 
404 
 
 VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 try, and of England in particular, the 
 high claims put forth by the latter being 
 well understood. 
 
 How happily it was reserved for the 
 United States to take this honor to her- 
 self, in a manner, too, undreamed of Ly 
 any compeer or rival, will appear from the 
 following history of the great fact, as given 
 at the time by the press of both England 
 and America. Indeed, in respect to the 
 English journals and the English public, 
 it can truly be said, that fair play and 
 manly acknowledgment of a fair beat 
 were never more honorably exhibited. And 
 this lastrnamed fact is all the more credit- 
 able, when all the circumstances of the 
 case are considered. A large portion of 
 the British peerage and gentry left their 
 residences and forsook their usual diver- 
 sions, to witness the struggle between the 
 yachtsmen of England, hitherto unmatched 
 and unchallenged, and the Americans who 
 had crossed the Atlantic to meet them. 
 All the feelings of that vast population 
 swarming in British ports and firmly 
 believing in "Rule Britannia," as an arti- 
 cle of national faith; all the prejudices of 
 the nobility and wealthy aristocracy, who 
 regarded the beautiful vessels in which 
 they cruised about the channel and visited 
 the shores of the Mediterranean every 
 summer as the perfection of naval archi- 
 tecture, were roused to the highest degree ; 
 and even the Queen of England did not 
 deem the occasion unworthy of her pres- 
 ence. 
 
 Until the very Jay, August twenty- 
 second, 1851, of this celebrated contest, no 
 Englishman ever dreamed that any nation 
 could produce a yacht with the least pre- 
 tensions to match the efforts of White, 
 Camper, Ratsey, and other eminent build- 
 ers ; and in the pages of the Yacht List 
 for that very year (1851), there was an 
 assertion which every man within sight of 
 sea water from the Clyde to the Solent 
 would swear to, namely, that " yacht build- 
 ing was an art in which England was 
 unrivaled, and that she was distinguished 
 pre-eminently and alone for the perfection 
 of science in handling them." Of the sev- 
 
 enteen yacht clubs in various parts of the 
 united kingdom, not one of them had ever 
 seen a foreigner enter the lists in the 
 annual matches. It was just known that 
 there was an imperial yacht club in St. 
 Petersburg, maintained, it was affirmed, 
 by the imperial treasury, to encourage a 
 nautical spirit among the nobility, and 
 that a few owners of yachts at Rotterdam 
 had enrolled themselves as a club ; but, 
 till the America came over, the few who 
 were aware of the fact that there was a 
 flourishing club in New York did not 
 regard it as of the slightest consequence, 
 or as at all likely to interfere with their 
 monopoly of the glory of the manliest of all 
 sports. The few trial runs made by the 
 America, on her arrival in English waters, 
 proved her to be of great speed, and satis- 
 fied the English critics that her owners 
 were not so little justified as at first they 
 had been thought, in offering to back an 
 untried vessel against any other yacht 
 for the large sum of fifty thousand dollars, 
 or for a cup or piece of plate. An inter- 
 esting reminiscence or two, in this connec- 
 tion, related by Colonel Hamilton, a mem- 
 ber of the club, may here be given, 
 namely : 
 
 There had previously been some talk 
 among the members of the New York 
 yacht club, of a race with the yachts of 
 England, and Mr. \V. H. Brown, the well- 
 known and skillful ship-builder, had under- 
 taken to build a schooner that should out- 
 sail any other vessel at home or abroad, 
 and he agreed to make the purchase of her 
 contingent upon her success. His offer 
 was accepted by the yacht club. And 
 now, to the master hand and brain of that 
 accomplished architect, GEORGE STEERS, 
 was confided the task of furnishing the 
 model of this to be nautical wonder. 
 The America was built. Failing, however, 
 in repeated trials, to beat Commodore 
 Stevens's yacht Maria, the club were not 
 bound to purchase. But the liberality of 
 the original offer was so great, in assuming 
 all risk, and the vessel in fact proved her- 
 self so fast, that several gentlemen, the 
 commodore at the head, determined to buy 
 
VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 405 
 
 her and send her out. She was accord- 
 ingly purchased, and sent to Havre, there 
 to await the arrival of the members of the 
 club, who were to sail her, they following 
 in a steamer. 
 
 Everything being made ready and com- 
 pleted at Havre, they sailed thence to 
 Cowes, a seaport of the Isle of Wight the 
 scene of the contemplated regatta. Their 
 arrival was greeted with every hospitality 
 and courtesy, not only by the noblemen 
 and gentlemen of the royal yacht club, but 
 by the officers of government. Lord 
 Palmerston issued an order that the Amer- 
 ica should be admitted in all the English 
 ports on the footing of English yachts; 
 the custom-houses were all made free to 
 her; and the admiral of the station at 
 
 GEORGE STEERS. 
 
 Portsmouth offered every assistance and 
 civility. The Earl of Wilton, and the 
 veteran Marquis of Anglesea, the latter 
 eighty years of age, were among the first 
 visitors on board. 
 
 When the time for the regatta came, 
 which was to take place on the most dan- 
 gerous course possible for a stranger in 
 the waters of the Isle of Wight, with their 
 currents and eddies, familiar only to those 
 accustomed to the water great solicitude 
 was naturally felt by the Americans, as to 
 the pilot to be employed. Warnings of 
 all sorts, from various quarters, reached 
 them, not to rely too much on any pilot 
 that might offer ; and the commodore was 
 naturally perplexed. But here again the 
 English admiral, with an intuitive percep- 
 tion of the difficulty of which no men- 
 
 tion, nevertheless, had ever been made to 
 him told Commodore Stevens that he 
 would furnish him with a pilot for whom 
 he himself would be answerable. The 
 offer was as frankly accepted as it was 
 honorably made. The pilot came on 
 board, and never, for a moment, was there 
 a suspicion on any mind that he was not 
 thoroughly honest and reliable. Yet, so 
 strong was the distrust among Americans 
 outside, that even after the pilot was in 
 charge, the commodore was warned, by 
 letter, not to trust too much to him, and 
 urged to take another pilot to overlook 
 him. But the commodore's own loyalty 
 of character would not entertain such a 
 proposition he gave his confidence to 
 the pilot the admiral sent him, and it was 
 completely justified. 
 
 The London Times said that never, in 
 the history of man, did Cowes present such 
 an appearance as on the eventful day 
 appointed for this race. Upwards of one 
 hundred yachts lay at anchor in the roads ; 
 the beach was crowded ; and the esplanade 
 in front of the club swarmed with ladies 
 and gentlemen, and with the people inland, 
 who came over in shoals, with wives, sons, 
 and daughters, for the day. Booths were 
 erected all along the quay, and the road- 
 stead was alive with boats, while from 
 sea and shore arose an incessant buzz of 
 voices mingled with the splashing of oars, 
 the flapping of sails, and the hissing of 
 steam, from the excursion vessels prepar- 
 ing to accompany the race. Flags floated 
 from the beautiful villas which stud the 
 wooded coast, and ensign and bargee, rich 
 with the colors of the various clubs or the 
 devices of the yachts, flickered gayly out in 
 the soft morning air. The windows of the 
 houses which commanded the harbor were 
 filled from the parlor to the attic, and the 
 "old salts " on the beach gazed moodily on 
 the low black hull of " the Yankee," and 
 spoke doubtfully of the chances of her 
 competitors. Some thought " the Vo- 
 lante " might prove a teaser if the wind 
 was light ; others speculated on " the 
 Alarm " doing mischief, if there was wind 
 enough to bring out the qualities of that 
 
406 
 
 VICTORIOUS EACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 large cutter in beating up to windward 
 and in tacking ; while more were of the 
 opinion that the America would carry off 
 the cup, "blow high blow low." It was 
 with the greatest difficulty the little town 
 gave space enough to the multitudes that 
 came from all quarters to witness an event 
 so novel and interesting. Among the vis- 
 itors were countless strangers Frenchmen 
 en route for Havre, Germans in quiet won- 
 derment at the excitement around them, 
 and Americans already triumphing in the 
 anticipated success of their countrymen. 
 
 Eighteen yachts were entered, and were 
 moored in a double line from Cowes castle, 
 the Beatrice being nearest that point, the 
 America about midway, and the Aurora 
 farthermost. The mist which hung over 
 the fields and woods from sunrise was car- 
 ried off about nine o'clock by a very gentle 
 breeze from the westward, which veered 
 round a little to the south soon afterwards, 
 and the morning became intensely warm. 
 
 At five minutes before ten o'clock, the 
 preparatory gun was fired from the club- 
 house battery, and the yachts were soon 
 sheeted from deck to topmast with clouds 
 of canvas, huge gaff topsails and balloon 
 jibs being greatly in vogue, and the Amer- 
 ica evincing her disposition to take advan- 
 tage of her new jib by hoisting it with all 
 alacrity. The whole flotilla, not in the 
 race, were already in motion, many of 
 them stretching down towards Osborne 
 and Hyde, to get a good start of the clip- 
 pers. Of the yachts that entered, fifteen 
 tarted, seven of these being schooners 
 and eight cutters. 
 
 Precisely at ten o'clock, the signal gun 
 for sailing was fired, and before the smoke 
 had well cleared away the whole of the 
 beautiful fleet was under way, moving 
 steadily to the east, with the tide and a 
 gentle breeze. The start was effected 
 splendidly, the yachts breaking away like 
 a field of race-horses ; the only laggard 
 was the America, which did not move for 
 a second or so after the others. Steamers, 
 shore-boats, and yachts, of all sizes, buzzed 
 along on each side of the course, and 
 spread away for miles over the rippling 
 
 sea a sight such as the Adriatic never 
 beheld in all the pride of Venice such, 
 indeed, as was never before known in the 
 annals of yachting. Soon after they 
 started, a steamer went off from the roads 
 with the members of the sailing committee 
 Sir B. Graham, Bart., commodore, of 
 the royal yacht squadron, and other distin- 
 guished gentlemen. The American minis- 
 ter, Hon. Abbott Lawrence, and his son, 
 Colonel Lawrence, attache to the American 
 legation, arrived too late for the sailing of 
 the America, but were accommodated on 
 board the steamer, and went round the 
 island in her. 
 
 The Gipsey Queen, with all her canvas 
 set and in the strength of the tide, took 
 the lead after starting, with the Beatrice 
 next, and then, with little difference in 
 order, the Volante, Constance, Arrow, and 
 a flock of others. The America went 
 easily for some time under mainsail, (with 
 a small gaff-topsail of a triangular shape, 
 braced up to the truck of the short and 
 slender stick which served as her main-top- 
 mast,) foresail, fore-staysail and jib ; 
 while her competitors had every cloth set 
 that the club regulations allowed. She 
 soon began to creep upon them, passing 
 some of the cutters to windward. In a 
 quarter of an hour she had left them all 
 behind, except the Constance, Beatrice, 
 and Gipsey Queen, which were well to- 
 gether, and went along smartly with the 
 light breeze. Once or twice the wind 
 freshened a little, and at once the Amer- 
 ica gathered way, and passed ahead of the 
 Constance and Beatrice. Another puff 
 came, and she made a dart to pass the 
 Gipsey Queen, but the wind left her sails, 
 and the little Volante came skimming past 
 her with a stupendous jib, swallowing up 
 all the wind that was blowing. The glo- 
 rious pageant, passing under Oeborne- 
 house, formed a pageant surpassingly fine, 
 the whole expanse of sea, from shore to 
 shore, being filled as it were with a count- 
 less fleet, while the dark hull of the Ven- 
 geance, eighty-four, in the distance at 
 Spithead, towered in fine relief above the 
 tiny little craft that danced around her ; 
 
VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 407 
 
 the green hills of Hampshire, the white 
 batteries of Portsmouth, and the pictur- 
 esque coast of Wight, forming a fine 
 frame-work for the picture. 
 
 As the Volante passed the America, 
 great was the delight of the patriotic, but 
 the nautical knowing ones shook their 
 heads, and said the triumph would be 
 short-lived ; the breeze was freshening, 
 and then the sprightly cutter must give 
 way, though she was leading the whole 
 squadron at the time. At half-past ten, 
 the Gipsey Queen caught a draught of 
 
 densely crowded. But the America was 
 forging ahead, and lessening the number 
 of her rivals every moment. The Sand- 
 heads were rounded by the Volante, 
 Gipsey Queen, and America, without any 
 perceptible change in point of time, at 
 eleven o'clock, the last being apparently 
 to leeward. Again, the wind freshened, 
 and the fast yachts came rushing up before 
 it, the run from the Sandheads being most 
 exciting, and well contested. Here one of 
 the West India mail steamers was ob- 
 served paddling her best, to come in for 
 
 YACHT A11EHICA : J. C. STEVENS, COM. 
 
 wind and ran past the Volante, the Con- 
 stance, America, Arrow, and Alarm, being 
 nearly in a line ; but in fifteen minutes, 
 the breeze freshened again for a short 
 time and the America passed the Arrow, 
 Constance, and Alarm, hut could not shake 
 off the Volante nor come up to the Gipsey 
 Queen, and exclamations were heard of 
 " Well, Brother Jonathan is not going to 
 have it all his own way," etc. 
 
 Passing Ryde, the excitement on shore 
 was very great, and the vast pier was 
 
 some of the fun, and a slight roll of the 
 set inwards began to impart a livelier 
 motion to the yachts, and to render excur- 
 sionists, whether male or female, ghastly, 
 looking and uncomfortable. 
 
 The yachts Volante, Freak, Aurora 
 Gipsey Queen, America, Beatrice, Alarm, 
 Arrow, and Bacchante, were timed off 
 Norman's Land buoy ; the other six were 
 staggering about in the rear, and the 
 Wyvern soon afterwards hauled her wind, 
 and went back towards Cowes. 
 
408 
 
 VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 At this point, the wind blew somewhat 
 more steadily, and the America began to 
 show a touch of her quality. Whenever 
 the breeze took the line of her hull, all the 
 sails set as flat as a drumhead, and, with- 
 out any careening or staggering, she 
 "walked along" past cutter and schooner, 
 and, when off Brading, had left every 
 vessel in the squadron behind her, with 
 the exception of the Volante, which she 
 overtook at half-past eleven, when she 
 very quietly hauled down her jib, as. 
 much as to say she would give her rival 
 every odds, and laid herself out for the 
 race round the back of the island. The 
 weather showed signs of improvement, as 
 far as yachting was concerned ; a few sea- 
 horses waved their crests over the water, 
 the high lands on shore put on their fleecy 
 "nightcaps" of cloud, and the horizon 
 looked delightfully threatening ; and now 
 " the Yankee " flew like the wind, leaping 
 over, not against, the water, and increasing 
 her distance from the Gipsey Queen, 
 Volante, and Alarm, every instant. The 
 way her sails were set evinced superiority 
 in the cutting which the English makers 
 would barely allow, but, certain it was, 
 that while the jibs and mainsails of her 
 antagonists were "bellied out," her canvas 
 was as flat as a sheet of paper. No foam, 
 but rather a water-jet rose from her bows ; 
 and the greatest point of resistance for 
 resistance there must be" somewhere 
 seemed about the beam, or just forward of 
 her mainmast, for the seas flashed off from 
 her sides at that point every time she met 
 them. While the cutters were thrashing 
 through the water, sending the spray over 
 their bows, and the schooners were wet up 
 to the foot of the foremast, the America 
 was as drj' as a bone. She had twenty-one 
 persons on her deck, consisting of the 
 owners, the crew, cook, and steward, a 
 Cowes pilot, and some seamen. They 
 nearly all sat aft, and, when the vessel did 
 not require any handling, crouched down 
 on the deck by the weather bulwarks. 
 The Gipsey Queen, when a little past 
 Brading, seemed to have carried away her 
 foresail sheets, but even had it not been 
 
 so, she had lost all chance of success. The 
 America, as the wind increased, and it was 
 now a six-knot breeze, at least, hauled 
 down her wee gaff-topsail, and went away 
 under mainsail, foresail, and fore-staysail, 
 so that it required the utmost the steamer 
 could do to keep alongside of her. This 
 was her quickest lit of sailing, for on 
 rounding the east point of the island it 
 was necessary to beat to the westward, in 
 order to get along the back of the Wight. 
 
 At 11 : 37, the Arrow, Bacchante, Con- 
 stance, and Gipsey Queen, stood away to 
 the north, to round the Nab, imagining 
 that it was requisite to do so, as the usual 
 course was to go outside the lightship, 
 though the cards did not specify it on this 
 occasion. The America and most of the 
 other yachts kept their course round the 
 Foreland and by Bembridge. She ran 
 past the white and black buoys at a tre- 
 mendous rate, and, at 11 : 47, tacked to the 
 west, and stood in towards the Culver cliffs, 
 the nearest yacht being at least two miles 
 to leeward or astern of her. She was not 
 very quick in stays on this occasion, and 
 it would seem she was not very regular in 
 that maneuver, sometimes taking a minute, 
 sometimes thirty seconds, to perform it. 
 At 11 : 58, she stood out again to the south- 
 east, and, having taken a stretch of a mile 
 or so, went about and ran in towards San- 
 down. The breeze died off at this point, 
 and to keep the cutters and light craft off, 
 the America hoisted her gaff-topsail and 
 jib once more. Under Shanklin Chine the 
 set of the tide ran heavily against her, but 
 still there was nothing to fear, for her 
 rivals were miles away, some almost hull 
 down. 
 
 While running under Dunnose, at 12 : 58, 
 her jib-boom broke short off; it was 
 broken by mismanagement on the part of 
 the men when straining on it with the 
 windlass, and did not snap from the action 
 of the sail. This accident threw her up in 
 the wind, and gave the advantage of about 
 a quarter of an hour to her opponents, 
 while she was gathering in the wreck. 
 But it was of little use to them. Looking 
 away to the east, they were visible at 
 
VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 409 
 
 great distances, standing in shore, or 
 running in and out, most helplessly astern 
 the Aurora, Freak, and Volante, in spite 
 of light winds and small tonnage, being 
 two or three miles behind The wind fell 
 off very much for more than an hour, and 
 it was but weary work stretching along 
 the coast against a baffling tide, every 
 moment making the loss of her ^ib of 
 greater consequence to the America 
 
 " CUP OP ALL NATIOKS," WOS BY THE AMERICA. 
 
 At about 3 : 20, the breeze freshened, 
 and the America, still some miles ahead, 
 slipped along on her way, making tacks 
 with great velocity, and standing well up 
 to windward. Her superiority was so 
 decided that several of the yachts wore, 
 and went back again to Cowes in despair ; 
 and, for some time, the America increased 
 her distance every second, the Aurora, 
 Freak, and Volante, keeping in a little 
 squadron together tack for tack and 
 
 running along close under the cliffs. This 
 was rather unfortunate in one respect, for, 
 in going about, the Freak fouled the 
 Volante and carried away her jib-boom ; 
 and the boatman's pet became thereby 
 utterly disabled, and lost the small glimpse 
 of fortune which the light winds might 
 have given her. 
 
 Meanwhile, minute after minute, "the 
 Yankee " was gaining ground, and at 3 : 30 
 was flying past St. Lawrence towards Old 
 Castle, while the Bacchante and Eclipse, 
 which had been working along honestly 
 and steadily, were about two and a half 
 miles to leeward behind her. Further 
 away still, were visible five or six yachts, 
 some hull down, some dipped further still, 
 digging into the tideway as hard as they 
 could, and lying into the wind as well as 
 their sails might stand it. 
 
 By this time, the America had got the 
 wind on her quarter, having gone round 
 Rocken-end, and thus having a tolerably 
 fair course from the south to north-west, 
 up to the Needles, the wind being light 
 and the water somewhat broken. The 
 persons on board the steamers were greatly 
 astonished at seeing ahead of the America, 
 after she had rounded Rocken-end, a fine 
 cutter with a jib and foresail together 
 : ; " two single gentlemen rolled into one," 
 bowling away with all speed, as if racing 
 away for her life, and it was sometime 
 before they could be persuaded she was 
 not the Aurora ; but she was in reality the 
 Wildfire, forty-two tons, which was taking 
 a little share in the match to herself, and 
 had passed the End at 3 : 40. The Amer- 
 ica, however, bore straight down for the 
 cutter, which was thoroughly well-sailed, 
 and passed her after a stern chase of more 
 than an hour, though the Wildfire, when 
 first sighted, was reckoned to be some two 
 and a half miles ahead. 
 
 At 5 : 40, the Aurora, the nearest yacht, 
 was fully seven and one-half miles astern, 
 the Freak being about a mile more distant, 
 and the rest being "nowhere." The 
 America was at this time close to the 
 Needles, upon which she was running with 
 a light breeze all in her favor. 
 
410 
 
 VICTORIOUS RACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 Two of the excursion steamers ran into 
 Alum Bay, and anchored there to see the 
 race round the Needles. While waiting 
 there in intense anxiety for the first vessel 
 that should shoot round the immense pil- 
 lars of chalk and limestone which bear the 
 name, the passengers were delighted to 
 behold the Victoria and Albert, with the 
 royal standard at the main, and the Lord 
 Admiral's flag at the fore, steaming round 
 from the north-west, followed by the 
 Fairy, and the little dock-yard tender. 
 Her majesty, Prince Albert, and the royal 
 family, were visible by the aid of a glass 
 from the deck of the steamers. The royal 
 yacht went past the Needles, accompanied 
 by the Fairy, at 5 : 35, but quickly re- 
 turned, and at 5 : 45 lay to, off Alum Bay. 
 The Fairy was signaled to proceed round 
 the Needles, to bring tidings of the race, 
 and at once started on her errand. 
 
 But all doubt and speculation, if any 
 there could have been, was soon removed 
 by the appearance of the America hauling 
 her wind round the cliff, at 5 : 50. The 
 breeze fell dead under the shore, and the 
 America lowered out her foresail and fore- 
 staysail so as to run before it. All the 
 steamers weighed and accompanied her, 
 giving three cheers as she passed, a com- 
 pliment which owners and crews ac.knowl- 
 edged with uncovered heads and waving 
 hats. At 6 : 04 the Wildfire rounded the 
 Needles, and bore away after the schooner, 
 which by this time had got almost in a 
 line with the Victoria and Albert ; and, 
 though it is not usual to recognize the 
 presence of her majesty on such occasions 
 as a racing match no more, indeed, than 
 a jockey would pull up his horse to salute 
 the queen, when in the middle of his 
 stride, the America instantly lowered her 
 ensign, blue with white stars, the commo- 
 dore took off his hat, and all his crew, fol- 
 lowing his order and example, remained 
 with uncovered heads for some minutes, 
 till they had passed the royal yacht. The 
 steamers, as she passed on, renewed their 
 cheering. 
 
 On turning towards the Needles, at 
 6:30, not a sail was in sight, but the 
 
 breeze was so very light that all sailing 
 might be said to have finished ; and it was 
 evident that the America had won the 
 cup, unless some light cutter ran up with 
 a breeze in the dusk and slipped past her. 
 The steamers returned towards Cowes, and 
 the royal yacht, having run close by the 
 America under half-steam for a short dis- 
 tance, went on towards Osborne. Off 
 Cowes were innumerable yachts, and on 
 every side was heard the hail, "Is the 
 America first ? " The answer, " Yes." 
 "What's second?" The reply, "Noth- 
 ing." 
 
 As there was no wind, the time con- 
 sumed in getting up from Hurst Castle to 
 the winning flag was very considerable, 
 the America's arrival first not having 
 been announced by gunfire till 8 : 37. The 
 Aurora, which slipped up very rapidly 
 after rounding the Needles, in consequence 
 of her light tonnage and a breath of wind, 
 was signaled at 8 : 45 ; the Bacchante at 
 9 : 30 ; the Eclipse at 9 : 45 ; the Brilliant 
 at 1 : 20 a. m., August 23d. The rest were 
 not timed. Thus the America made good 
 all her professions, and to Commodore 
 Stevens was presented, by the royal yacht 
 squadron, the well-won cup. 
 
 On the evening after the race there was 
 a splendid display of fire-works by land 
 and water along the club-house esplanade, 
 at which thousands of persons were pres- 
 ent. A re-union also took place at the 
 club-house, and the occasion was taken of 
 the Hon. Abbott Lawrence's presence to 
 compliment him on the success of his 
 countrymen ; to which his excellency made 
 a suitable reply, humorously remarking 
 that, though he could not but be proud of 
 his fellow-citizens, he still felt it was but 
 the children giving a lesson to the father 
 and if the America should be purchased 
 by English friends, the Yankees would 
 nevertheless try to build something better 
 in New York, so as to beat even her ! 
 
 The queen having intimated her desire 
 to inspect the America, the latter sailed 
 from Cowes to Osborne, where the Victoria 
 and Albert also dropped down. As the 
 queen, with Prince Albert, and suite, neared 
 
VICTORIOUS KACE OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 the America, the national colors of that 
 vessel were dipped, out of respect to her 
 majesty, and raised again when she had 
 proceeded on board. The queen made a 
 close inspection of the vessel, attended by 
 Commodore Stevens, Colonel Hamilton, 
 and the officers of the yacht, remaining 
 half an hour on board, and expressing 
 great admiration of the famous schooner. 
 Indeed, the America's beautiful and ingen- 
 ious model, and her remarkable sailing 
 qualities, were the astonishment of every- 
 body. 
 
 The triumph of the America was due 
 alike to her superior model and to the 
 unique cut and fit of her sails. The first 
 thing that met the eye, whether the vessel 
 was afloat or in dock, was the position of 
 the greatest transverse section in ap- 
 pearance situated at about ten-seventeenths 
 of her whole length from forward ; at this 
 section, the bottom was nearly straight for 
 several feet out from the keel, while the 
 two sides included an angle of about one 
 hundred degrees. At the forepart, her 
 appearance contrasted strangely with the 
 observances of modern ship-building, 
 
 namely, the avoidance of hollow water- 
 lines, hers being very concave, and her 
 forefoot exceedingly short, or, in other 
 words, the lower part of the stem and 
 gripe forming a long curve, and therefore 
 only a small rudder being needed ; in con- 
 sequence of this, there was, in steering, 
 but little impediment opposed to her pas- 
 sage through the water ; the great draught 
 of her water ait, eleven feet four inches, 
 with only six feet forward, added also to 
 her facility in steering. Any defect that 
 might be expected to result from this in 
 sailing on a wind, was quite avoided by 
 her great depth of keel, two feet two 
 inches amidships. The copper was placed 
 upon her bottom with great care, and 
 every possible projection avoided, in order 
 to diminish the friction in passing through 
 the water. But by far the most distin- 
 guishing feature of the America was the 
 set of her sails. The bellying of the sails 
 of yachts universally not only when 
 running free, but also when sailing on a 
 wind was, in the case of the America, 
 avoided to a very great extent, and from 
 this arose much of her superiority. 
 
LI. 
 
 RECEPTION OF GOV. KOSSUTH, THE GREAT HUNGA- 
 RIAN EXILE, AS THE INVITED GUEST OF THE 
 NATION. 1851. 
 
 Splendid Military Pafeant in New York, on His Arrival. Welcomed and Banqueted by President Fill- 
 more. Received with Distinguished Official Honors on the Floor of Congress. He Eloquently 
 Pleads His Country's Cause in all Parts of the Land Processions, Congratulatory Addresses, Accla- 
 mations, etc. A True-Hearted Patriot. What Hungary Fought for. Austrian Despotism Resisted. 
 Independence Demanded Kossuth the Leading Champion Armies in the Field Successes and 
 Reverses. Russia's Sword for Austria. Kossuth's Flight to Turkey. Long an Exile There. 
 America Interposes for Him Offers a Conveyance to the United States. The Nation's Courtesy 
 Accepted. Frigate Mississippi Sent. Kossnth and Suite on Board. His Landing at New York. 
 Magnificent Preparations for Him. Invited to Washington. Speech before Congress. An Unprec- 
 edented Distinction. His Untiring Labors. Greatest Orator of the Day. 
 
 " FREEDOM and HOME t what heavenly music in thoee words ! Alas, I have no home, and toe freedom of my people is down-trodden." 
 Kosscru.oii HIS ABRiViL 1.1 AHBKICA. 
 
 U. 8. STEAMER MISSISSIPPI CONVEYING KOSS0TH. 
 
 OSSUTH'S reception in the United States, as the great 
 advocate of Hungarian independence, was, in some of its 
 most interesting aspects, like that accorded to the illustri- 
 
RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 
 
 413 
 
 ous Lafayette. In the case of Kossuth, 
 however, instead of homage for services 
 rendered in the dark hour of our nation's 
 peril, the welcome extended him was the 
 tribute, spontaneous as well as universal, 
 of a great and admiring republic, to one 
 of the bravest and most eloquent of pa- 
 triots, enthusiastically apnealing, in his 
 exile, to the generous sympathies of man- 
 kind, in behalf of his father-land, a people 
 strong and valorous, but crushed beneath 
 the heavy chains of Austrian despotism, 
 backed by the power of Russian bayonets. 
 
 Louis Kossuth was born in 1806, at 
 Monok, in the north of Hungary, of pa- 
 rents not rich, yet possessing land, and 
 calling themselves noble. His native dis- 
 trict was a Protestant one, and in the 
 pastor of that district young Kossuth 
 found his first teacher. His parents dying, 
 the youth, more devoted to books than 
 farming, was dispatched to the provincial 
 college, where he remained till the age of 
 eighteen, having earned even at that time 
 the reputation of being the most able and 
 promising youth of the whole district. In 
 1826, he removed to the university of 
 Pesth, where he came in contact with the 
 progressive political influences and ideas 
 of the time ; and these, blending with his 
 own historic studies and youthful hopes, 
 soon produced the ardent, practical patriot. 
 
 According to the constitution of Hun- 
 gary, the electoral body called "Comi- 
 tats," treated those elected to sit in the 
 Diet more as delegates than as deputies. 
 They gave them precise instructions, and 
 expected the members not only to conform 
 to them, but to send regular accounts of 
 their conduct to their constituents for due 
 sanction, and with a view to fresh instruc- 
 tions. This kind of communication was 
 rather an onerous task for the Hungarian 
 country gentlemen, and hence many of 
 the deputies employed such young men as 
 Kossuth to transact their political business, 
 and conduct their correspondence. Acting 
 in this capacity for many members of the 
 Diet, Kossuth not only became an expert 
 parliamentary agent, but won great polit- 
 ical esteem and influence. 
 
 This kind of position soon made Kos- 
 suth a member himself, and from the very 
 first he distinguished himself in the Diet 
 as a speaker. Under his lead, too, the 
 Diet proceeded to establish a journal for 
 the publication of its debates, but which, 
 being garbled and curtailed by the Aus- 
 trian censors, soon passed into Kossuth's 
 hands exclusively, who extended the scope 
 of the journal by inserting editorial arti- 
 cles. The character of these articles so 
 incensed the Austrian authorities, that 
 they seized his presses. In a short time, 
 however, Kossuth's reports and articles 
 were printed by the then new method of 
 lithography, and circulated even more 
 largely, notwithstanding the increased 
 labor and expense. This success but 
 redoubled the inveteracy of the Austrian 
 government, which dissolved the Diet, and 
 were no sooner rid of its control and 
 importunity, than they discovered and 
 destroyed all Kossuth's lithographic appa- 
 ratus. But even this did not stop his pen 
 nor those of his many amanuenses ; until 
 at last Metternich, the prime minister, ex- 
 asperated by Kossuth's obstinacy, caused 
 him to be seized and condemned to impris- 
 onment, for the crime of treason. The 
 indignation and agitation which followed 
 this act, ended, eventually, in his release. 
 
 Unterrified by prisons and dungeons, 
 Kossuth, aided by the counsels and co-ope- 
 ration of his associates, continued to stir 
 the hearts of his countrymen, and to 
 demand political independence for his 
 country. Among the many men of noble 
 birth, wealth, national renown, and exalted 
 talents, who surrounded him, Kossuth 
 shone pre-eminent In 1847, he was the 
 acknowledged leader of the constitutional 
 party, and member for the Hungarian cap- 
 ital. Nor did he falter when many broke 
 off from him, and refused to follow his 
 extreme measures of resistance. Of this 
 last class were the Hungarian aristocracy, 
 turning to whom, Kossuth ironically said, 
 " With yo'i, if you choose ; without you, 
 or against you, if it must be." 
 
 The vehemency with which he advo- 
 cated the right and ability of the people of 
 
414 RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 
 
 Hungary to govern themselves was aston- 
 ishing, and multitudes rallied to his stand- 
 ard. Nothing in modern eloquence equals 
 his speeches and proclamations at this 
 time. He also vigorously assailed the 
 tariff system imposed upon Hungary, and 
 which crippled her industry, thrift, and 
 power, a point which he used to great 
 advantage in gaining public opinion. Up 
 to 1847, he thus continued, with matchless 
 eloquence and amazing activity, to secure 
 a reform in the institutions and law,s 
 affecting his country, a transformation of 
 her moral, political, and material interests, 
 as against the hostile policy of Austrian 
 absolutism. It was a struggle for the 
 rights of Hungary, in all circumstances 
 and against all foes. And now came that 
 eventful year in the history of Europe, 
 1848, which drove Louis Philippe in terror 
 from the throne of France, and filled 
 almost every capital of empires and king- 
 doms with the hayonets of those who, long 
 oppressed, resolved now to be free. This 
 was the hour for Hungary, and Kossuth 
 was the man ! In a long series of years, 
 with the pen, with the press, and as an 
 orator, he had circumvented and repelled 
 the arts of Austrian despotism. The time 
 had now come to create a treasury, organ- 
 ize an army, and accept the wager of 
 battle. Under the lead of Kossuth's ani- 
 mating spirit was this accomplished ; and 
 the motley bands of Hungarian recruits, 
 under the direction of Kossuth as governor 
 of the nation, waged, for a time, such vic- 
 torious warfare against the veteran legions 
 of Austria, as fairly astonished the world. 
 It was in March, 1848, that the spirit of 
 revolution broke out in Vienna, the Aus- 
 trian capital. Metternich, the wily tool 
 of tyrants, fled in dismay. Kossuth en- 
 tered the capital in triumph ! Terror- 
 stricken at the gulf of ruin which yawned 
 before him, the emperor made haste to 
 grant concessions, namely, the emancipa- 
 tion of the Hungarian peasantry from 
 feudal burdens, a fair representation of the 
 whole people in the Diet, the abolition of 
 all exemptions from taxation, the freedom 
 of the press, and trial by jury. But, not- 
 
 withstanding the emperor's assent to these 
 enactments, the Austrian government was 
 soon engaged in fomenting grave difficul- 
 ties in Hungarian affairs, and this led to 
 those great military preparations on the 
 part of Kossuth, which rapidly took the 
 form of active and bloody war. 
 
 With great vigor and spirit did the 
 brave Hungarians carry on the campaign, 
 and for a time their armies were every- 
 where successful. But afterwards, Russia 
 came and flung both sword and purse into 
 
 the scale, and, though the armies of the 
 tyrants had suffered five great defeats and 
 lost every military position they had 
 gained, the odds of numbers against the 
 struggling patriots had now become too 
 vast to admit of successful resistance on 
 their part. Buda was stormed and taken 
 possession of by the Hungarians in May, 
 but immense Russian forces were in a few 
 weeks collected on the frontiers, and in 
 July they simultaneously poured into Hun- 
 gary from the north and east, while the 
 Croats, under Jellachich, advanced from 
 the south, and the Austrians from the 
 west. The struggle was soon terminated. 
 Gorgey, the Hungarian general, surren- 
 dered with his army of forty thousand men 
 to the Russians, only two days after the 
 governorship of the country had been 
 resigned to him by Kossuth. Other sur- 
 renders soon followed, and thus the wal 
 ended. 
 
EECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 415 
 
 During this struggle, the forces brought 
 into the field at any one time by the Hun- 
 garians, never exceeded one hundred and 
 thirty-five thousand men, with four hun- 
 dred pieces of artillery ; against whom 
 were opposed, in the final campaign, one 
 hundred and fifty thousand Russians, and 
 one hundred and ten thousand Austrian 
 troops, besides insurgent Wallacks, Servi- 
 ans, etc., making a total of three hundred 
 thousand men. 
 
 Thus perished, through Russian inter- 
 vention, the cause of Hungarian nation- 
 ality. 
 
 Kossuth's name had been nailed to the 
 Austrian gallows, and he fled as an exile 
 into Turkey. Austria and Russia de- 
 manded that he be delivered up, but France 
 and England interposed in his behalf, and 
 the sultan continued to protet him in the 
 asylum which he had chosen. At length, 
 the offer of a resolution in the senate of the 
 United States, that the American govern- 
 ment should exert its influence in behalf 
 of the exiles, seemed likely to solve the 
 difficulty. This resolution passed. As 
 soon as the sultan who certainly had 
 risked the safety of Turkey in disregard- 
 ing the threats of Austria and Russia 
 received the assurance of the support of 
 America and England, he not only at- 
 tached no condition to their liberation, but 
 gave them the choice of being conveyed to 
 England or America, as they preferred. 
 The legation of the United States at Con- 
 stantinople having assured Kossuth that 
 no restraint would be put upon his liberty 
 in America, he gratefully accepted the 
 offer made by congress, and wrote a letter 
 of thanks to President Fillmore. 
 
 In September, 1851, the fine American 
 steam-frigate Mississippi arrived for the 
 conveyance of the late governor of Hun- 
 gary, his wife, his three children, and his 
 friends, to whatever country they desired. 
 Soliman Bey, the Turkish guard of the 
 refugees during their exile, and who had 
 never failed in the most respectful atten- 
 tions to them, was overcome with emotion 
 when Kossuth came to leave, and in part- 
 ing said to him, " You are free, and now 
 
 you will find friends everywhere ; do not 
 forget those who were your friends when 
 you had no other." From their first 
 entrance into Turkey to the hour of their 
 leaving, the Hungarians had experienced 
 unvarying kindness, hospitality, and cour- 
 tesy. 
 
 Kossuth proposed to pay a short visit to 
 England, on his way to the United States. 
 As the Mississippi approached the coasts 
 of Italy and France, bonfires were kindled 
 along the heights, as a sign of rejoicing. 
 Kossuth proposed to stop at Marseilles, 
 and travel thence to England, but the 
 French authorities, by direction of Louis 
 Napoleon, would not permit him to land. 
 The people of France, however, gave him 
 ample demonstration that they were not 
 responsible for the acts of the government ; 
 they, crowded around the ship, offering 
 him garlands of laurel, while they pre- 
 sented wreaths of everlasting to the Amer- 
 icans, and filled the air with enthusiastic 
 cheers. While opposite the shores of 
 Marseilles, an operative came, notwith- 
 standing the cold, swimming through the 
 water, on board the frigate, to grasp Kos- 
 suth's hand. Kossuth pressed the work- 
 man's hand most warmly, and gently 
 reproached him for his temerity. 'Que 
 voulez vous,' he replied ; ' I desired to 
 touch your hand, I could not find a boat, I 
 took to the water, and here I am. Are 
 there any obstacles to him who wills ? ' 
 
 Landing at Gibraltar, Kossuth took pas- 
 sage in the English steamer Madrid for 
 Southampton, and, after a most enthusi- 
 astic reception in the principal English 
 cities by the hard-working masses, they 
 left for America. To the great republic 
 of the west he had been invited by con- 
 gress, and here he was received as the 
 nation's guest by the president, by sena- 
 tors and representatives, by governors and 
 legislators, by men in the highest station, 
 and by the whole mass of the people. 
 He arrived off Staten Island, December 
 fifth, and was received by an official depu- 
 tation who came on board to welcome him 
 to the United States. 
 
 Saturday, December sixth, was the day 
 
416 
 
 RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 
 
 fixed upon by the great metropolis of the 
 nation, to celebrate his lauding in Amer- 
 ica ; a few days before, President Fillmore 
 had announced to congress the arrival of 
 their illustrious guest. The very skies of 
 heaven, by their brightness and serenity, 
 deemed to participate in the welcome 
 accorded to the distinguished chief. At 
 an earlv hour, the streets were filled with 
 a vast concourse. The decorations of the 
 streets, public buildings, private houses,, 
 and places of business, were on a large 
 scale and in a style of imposing magnifi- 
 cence. Myriads of eager spectators filled 
 the space from the Park to Castle Garden, 
 intent on gaining an early glimpse of the 
 world-renowned guest of patriotic Ameri- 
 can hospitality. 
 
 The steamer that had been provided to 
 bring Kossuth up to the city, was decor- 
 ated at the bows with a large Hungarian 
 standard, and underneath, on the same 
 flag-pole, was the flag of the ship. At the 
 tern, a large United States banner, bear- 
 ing the stars and stripes, floated, and 
 showed a beautiful contrast with the Hun- 
 garian flag. On the arrival of the chief- 
 tain at the steamer, he was recognized by 
 his Hungarian hat, and large velvet em- 
 broidered coat, and a spontaneous burst of 
 applause rose from the anxious company 
 who were looking out from the vessel. At 
 this moment, the band struck up " Hail to 
 the Chief," and the salute from the guns 
 of the steamer began, which was the signal 
 for another burst of enthusiastic applause. 
 After much pushing and crowding, in 
 which neither ladies nor Hungarians were 
 much respected, the party got on board, 
 and the steamer put off into the bay, the 
 greeting of crowds on the shore being per- 
 fectly tumultuous. On getting upon the 
 boat, Kossuth remained for some time 
 viewing the expansive bay, and listening 
 to the descriptions of its various portions. 
 
 At half-past twelve o'clock, the steamer 
 came to, at Castle Garden, and the com- 
 pany began to debark. An avenue was 
 formed by the police and military, through 
 which, Kossuth, his staff, and the other 
 gentlemen passed to the large room, which 
 
 they reached after much crushing and 
 pushing. Among the throng of eager 
 expectants in the Garden was a large rep- 
 resentation of ladies. The actual arrival 
 of Kossuth was the signal for an uncon- 
 trollable uproar, and a fearful rush was 
 made toward the door by which he was to 
 enter. There was no such thing as keep- 
 ing order ; cries of " There he is," " Hur- 
 rah," deafening cheers and shouts, set law 
 and order completely at defiance. When 
 he was fairly recognized by the multitude, 
 a shout was given that threatened to raise 
 the vast roof from its place. Nearly a 
 quarter of an hour of indescribable exulta- 
 tion ensued, and all the beseeching ges- 
 tures of the mayor and committee were 
 unheeded. 
 
 Finally, the mayor, who was surrounded 
 by the common council and the officers of 
 the military companies, presented an ad- 
 dress to Kossuth, and then said : 
 
 " I present to you, my fellow-citizens, 
 KOSSUTH, the illustrious Chief of Hun- 
 gary." 
 
 Kossuth bowed his acknowledgments of 
 the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd, and 
 then proceeded to reply in a speech of 
 most masterly eloquence and power. 
 
 As soon as the illustrious exile left the 
 Garden and made his appearance in the 
 Battery, the acclamations of the tens of 
 thousands present burst forth in almost a 
 simultaneous cheer, dense and far-reaching 
 though the crowd was. He was provided 
 with a horse, and, surrounded by his com- 
 panions in exile, rode round the ranks. 
 The different companies, with their em- 
 blazoned standards, shining armor, and 
 splendid uniforms, went through their 
 evolutions in superb style. 
 
 The scene at the moment Kossuth's 
 carriage, in its place in the grand proces- 
 sion, entered on Broadway, surpassed 
 description. Every window of that wide 
 and magnificent thoroughfare, as far as 
 the eye could see, was alive with human 
 beings, and, amidst the waving of hand- 
 kerchiefs, by as beautiful an array of the 
 fair sex as could be witnessed, who were 
 most enthusiastic in their applause, the 
 
RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 417 
 
 honored guest passed onward. It was with 
 the greatest difficulty that the line of the 
 movement could be kept in order, in con- 
 sequence of the rush of the human tide 
 that endeavored to keep up with the car- 
 riage containing Kossuth. Every avenue 
 leading from Broadway, lent its quota of 
 spectators, to swell up the teeming mass. 
 Many who had witnessed similar exhibi- 
 tions of popular enthusiasm from the time 
 of Lafayette's arrival in 1824, said that 
 this ovation to Kossuth exceeded all. 
 Kossuth returned the greetings he re- 
 oeived with that grace and dignity always 
 
 For some time, Kossuth gave himself up 
 to receiving deputations and their congrat- 
 ulatory addresses. These hailed from all 
 parts of the land, and represented states, 
 municipalities, corporations, ecclesiastical 
 and political bodies, and innumerable soci- 
 eties of various names, objects, and nation- 
 alities. One of these deputations con- 
 sisted of German citizens from Albany, 
 and, after the usual exchange of formal 
 addresses, Kossuth, taking each one kindly 
 by the hand, bade him adieu, and spoke a 
 few words of cheer. Approaching one of 
 the bystanders who had accompanied on* 
 
 GRAND MILITARY RECEPTION OP GOVERNOR KOSSUTH, EN NEW YORK. 
 
 so characteristic of him. Yet, he seemed 
 the least interested of any one in the 
 pageant the key to his sadness being 
 found, doubtless, in that memorable senti- 
 ment uttered by him in one of his speeches: 
 " Freedom and home ! what heavenly 
 music in those two words ! Alas, I have 
 no home, and the freedom of my people is 
 down-trodden ! " Such, indeed, was the pen- 
 give strain in which Kossuth always spoke 
 
 of himself and of his ill-fated father-land, 
 27 
 
 deputation, Kossuth took him by the 
 hand and inquired if he too was an Al- 
 banian. 
 
 "No, I am a Jersey man," replied the 
 interrogated, whose fair complexion, and 
 presence with the German company, had 
 evidently occasioned the mistake. " There 
 are several of us here from the state of 
 New Jersey," exclaimed an old farmer, 
 "we have come fifty miles to see you." 
 ''Believe me, my friends," replied Kos- 
 
418 RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 
 
 euth, " I deeply appreciate your kindness. 
 It is these little attentions that most 
 touch my heart. Adieu." Incidents like 
 this were constantly occurring. 
 
 In Philadelphia, Kossuth was received 
 in Independence Hall, where the immor- 
 tal Declaration of American Independence 
 had been proclaimed just three-quarters of 
 a century ago. From Philadelphia he 
 went to Baltimore, where he was escorted 
 to his hotel by a vast concourse of people, 
 and a long line of military. The city 
 council had voted resolutions expressive of 
 their sympathy with the exiles, and with 
 their struggles for independence, and had 
 sent to New York an address welcoming 
 Kossuth and his companions. Kossuth 
 now, therefore, in the hall of the Maryland 
 Institute, expressed his thanks to the citi- 
 zens of Baltimore. 
 
 He reached Washington on the thirtieth 
 of December, where a committee consisting 
 of Senators Seward, Cass, and Shields, had 
 been appointed to officially welcome him 
 to the nation's capital. The secretary of 
 state, Daniel Webster, was among the first 
 to visit Kossuth, and to mark his respect 
 for him. When asked, a few days later, 
 what he thought of the Hungarian exile, 
 he replied : " He has the manners of a 
 king his is a royal nature." 
 
 The following day, after the president's 
 levee, the rooms of Kossuth were crowded 
 with visitors, citizens and dignitaries, who 
 came, not only to see the man whose fame 
 had filled two hemispheres, but to honor 
 the noble cause he represented. On the 
 sixth of January, Kossuth dined with the 
 president of the United States, and other 
 high officials, at the executive mansion. 
 He was also invited to an audience given 
 by the president to the Indian delegations 
 from the far west. On the seventK the 
 congress of the United States invited him 
 to the capitol, an honor which had never 
 before been bestowed upon any individual, 
 excepting Lafayette. The galleries and 
 lobbies were crowded with ladies, and as he 
 entered, the members of the house all rose, 
 while the chairman of the committee intro- 
 duced him in these words: 
 
 " Mr. Speaker, I have the honor on the 
 part of the committee, to present Governor 
 Louis Kossuth to the house of represent- 
 atives." 
 
 To which the speaker replied : 
 " As the organ of this body, I have the 
 honor to extend to Louis Kossuth a 
 cordial welcome to the house of represent- 
 atives." 
 
 Kossuth then said : 
 
 " Sir, it is a remarkable fact in the his- 
 tory of mankind, that while, through all 
 the past, honors were bestowed upon glory, 
 and glory was attached only to success, the 
 legislative authorities of this great repub- 
 lic bestow honors upon a persecuted exile, 
 not conspicuous by glory, not favored by 
 success, but engaged in a just cause. 
 There is a triumph of republican princi- 
 ples in this fact. Sir, I thank in my own 
 and my country's name, the house of rep- 
 resentatives of the United States, for the 
 honor of this cordial welcome." 
 
 After he had taken the seat prepared 
 for him, the house was adjourned, to 
 allow those who had assembled to witness 
 this introduction to be presented to Kos- 
 suth. 
 
 In the evening, a banquet was given 
 him by the members of both houses of 
 congress, presided over by Hon. W. R. 
 King, vice-president of the United States. 
 Kossuth was placed at his right hand, and 
 Daniel Webster, secretary of state, at his 
 left. The speaker of the house sat at 
 Kossuth's side. This was indeed a great 
 occasion for Kossuth, and nobly did he 
 bear himself. Senators, judges, diplomats, 
 military and naval dignitaries, and cabinet 
 ministers, were there to do him honor. 
 After the health of the president, and of 
 the judiciary of the United States, had 
 been given, Judge Wayne of the supreme 
 court proposed : " Constitutional liberty to 
 all the nations of the earth, supported by 
 Christian faith and the morality of the 
 Bible ; " a toast which was enthusiastically 
 received. The presiding officer then gave : 
 "Hungary: represented in the person of 
 our honored guest ; having proved herself 
 worthy to be free, by the virtues and valor 
 
RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGARIAN EXILE. 419 
 
 of her sons, the law of nations and the 
 dictates of justice alike demand that she 
 shall have fair play in her struggle for 
 independence." Kossuth replied in a long 
 and eloquent speech. The secretary of 
 state, in his speech, gave an authorized 
 assurance of President Fillmore's " kind- 
 ness and good wishes toward the guest of 
 the nation," and also expressed his own 
 high appreciation of Kossuth, his country 
 and his cause. Other speeches were made 
 by the great orators of the nation there 
 assembled, and nothing could exceed the 
 magnificence of this occasion, in respect 
 to the character and fame of those in 
 attendance, the splendor of the intel- 
 lectual efforts of the speakers, and the 
 sumptuousness of the banquet in its ma- 
 terial aspects. 
 
 To the far west, the south, and again to 
 the east, Kossuth extended his tour, plead- 
 ing the cause of his down-trodden country, 
 and receiving honors and distinctions, such 
 as a king might covet, from one end of the 
 broad land to the other. Cities gave him 
 the freedom of their municipalities ; legis- 
 latures and governors invited him to the 
 capitals of their states; and the people 
 everywhere rushed to welcome him. But 
 in one thing, Kossuth was bitterly disap- 
 pointed, namely, in not securing the active 
 interference of the United States in behalf 
 of his country's rights. With all his vast 
 powers of eloquence and logic, in demon- 
 strating the law of nations in this regard, 
 he invoked the strong arm of the Ameri- 
 can republic to interpose for Hungarian 
 nationality. But, though willing to pro- 
 claim to the whole world, sympathy and 
 accord with the Hungarian movement, the 
 American government felt obliged to re- 
 frain from any acts of positive interven- 
 tion, as contrary to national usage and 
 pplicy. 
 
 After remaining in the United States 
 about six months, during which he made 
 nearly three hundred speeches, about one 
 hundred of which were elaborate orations, 
 Kossuth departed for England. A patri- 
 otic fund which had been raised in Amer- 
 ica for the cause he advocated, wag 
 
 intrusted" to him for the service of his 
 country ; but, after watching for many 
 years the political skies of Europe, and 
 bringing to bear all the resources of his 
 fertile mind upon the questions and events 
 affecting the destiny of his country, he at 
 last saw the once brightened horizon of his 
 beloved father-land settle in the hopeless 
 darkness of confirmed and accepted Aus- 
 trian rule. 
 
 In his appearance and manners, while a 
 visitor to this country, Kossuth was de- 
 scribed by those who enjoyed frequent 
 opportunities of personal contact, as being 
 five feet eight inches in height, with a 
 rather slight frame, and a face expressive 
 of a penetrating intellect long, with a 
 broad forehead, and the chin narrow, but 
 square in its form. His hair thin in front, 
 and of a dark brown, the same as his 
 beard, which was quite long, but not very 
 thick, and arranged with neatness and 
 taste. He wore a moustache, heavy and 
 somewhat long. His eyes, very large and 
 of a light blue, well set beneath a full and 
 arched brow ; complexion pale, occasioned, 
 doubtless, by his long captivity and inces- 
 sant application. His countenance was 
 characterized by an aspect of almost mel- 
 ancholy earnestness, of refinement, and of 
 gentleness, mingled with manly fire, and 
 an air of prompt, decisive action. 
 
 In speaking, nothing could be more 
 incomparably dignified and graceful than 
 Kossuth's manner ; gestures more admira- 
 ble and effective, and a play of countenance 
 more magnetic and winning, could not be 
 conceived. He always stood quite erect, 
 instead of frequently bending forward, as 
 is the case with some orators, to give 
 emphasis to a sentence. His posture and 
 appearance in repose indicated greatness, 
 by their essential grace and dignity, and 
 impressed the beholder with a sense of 
 marked individuality ^ and power. This 
 sense of reserved power in the man the 
 certainty that he was not making an effort 
 and doing his utmost, but that behind all 
 this strength of fascination, there were 
 other treasures of ability not brought into 
 notice, and perhaps never made use of 
 
120 RECEPTION OF KOSSUTH, THE HUNGAEIAN EXILE. 
 
 constituted one of the great charms of his 
 oratory. He spoke as if with little prepa- 
 ration, and with that peculiar freshness 
 which belongs to extemporaneous speak- 
 ing; every movement seemed perfectly 
 
 easy, and he gesticulated a good deal, 
 equally well with either arm. The uni- 
 versal remark concerning Lim in this 
 respect was, that he was the greatest of 
 living orators. 
 
LII. 
 
 EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRY OF ALL NATIONS, IN 
 
 NEW YORK. 1853. 
 
 Conttruction of the Crystal Palace, a Colossal Building of Glass and Iron. Four Acres of Surface COT- 
 ered with the Treasures of Art, Science, and Mechanism, from Every Land. Inauguration of the 
 Enterprise by President Pierce. Five Thousand Contributors. Splendor of the Palace of Industry 
 by Day ; Its Gorgeous Illumination at Night. Eclat of the Great London Fair. Emulation Stimu- 
 lated Abroad. An American Exhibition Proposed. Popularity of the Idea. Plan for a Building 
 Accepted. Its Style, Size, and Decorations. Admirable Adaptation of the Structure. Superiority 
 to the London Palace. Rapid Progress of the Enterprise. Interest of Foreign Countries Enlisted. 
 Programme of Management. Brilliant Ceremony at the Opening. Celebrities Present : Speeches 
 Made. Grand Hallelujah Chorus Sung. Constant Tide of Visitors. Beauty, Utility, Amusement. 
 Attractions from Abroad. Contributions by Monarchs. Victoria's Beautiful Offering. The Grand 
 Industries of Civilization. Lesson Taught by Such a Display. Luster Reflected on America. 
 
 14 Worthy of the grandest circumstances which could be thrown around a human assembly, worthy of this occasion, and a hundred like 
 thu, Uthat beautiful idea, the COUOKAIIOK or LiBOB." EMUU BomiTT. 
 
 DTTEBIOB OF THE WOELD'S FAIB, NEW YORK. 
 
 OLLOWIKG the brilliant and 
 successful example of England, 
 in the erection of a colossal crys- 
 tal palace in Hyde Park, London, 
 for a World's Fair, in 1851, 
 and into which flowed the treas- 
 ures of art, science, and mechan- 
 ism, from the four quarters of the 
 globe, American enterprise con- 
 ceived the idea of a similar struc- 
 ture, for the exhibition of the 
 industry of all nations, in the 
 commercial metropolis of Amer- 
 ica ; and this idea, so popular in 
 view of the splendid eclat attend- 
 ing the vast and magnificent 
 display in London, was soon car- 
 ried forward to a complete and 
 happy consummation. 
 
 The idea of such a grand na- 
 tional display became, in a short 
 
422 
 
 WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 time, the all engrossing one, from one end 
 of the land to the other, and the public 
 men at the seat of government urged upon 
 the United States representatives at for- 
 eign courts, a sense of the importance of 
 the great enterprise, and the desirableness 
 of contributions from abroad. It was 
 viewed as an undertaking which, if con- 
 ducted with energy and sagacity, would 
 add luster to the American nation, as 
 showing its appreciation of the luxuries 
 and refinements of art, as well as of the 
 more substantial exhibitions of human 
 industry, in the shape of manufactures, 
 machinery, etc. 
 
 In one respect, the American exhibition 
 differed from its London predecessor, 
 namely : the latter was under the free and 
 unlimited auspices of the English govern- 
 ment, with its boundless resources, while 
 the former was undertaken by a company 
 of individuals. It was not, however, an 
 exclusively private speculation, but existed 
 under a charter granted by the legislature, 
 the company being known, in their corpo- 
 rate style, as the "Association for the 
 Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations," 
 comprising men of eminence in all the 
 influential spheres of society, and of this 
 Association. Mr. Theodore Sedgwick re- 
 ceived the high honor of being elected 
 president. So vast and multitudinous, 
 however, were the details of such an under- 
 taking, that much delay attended the oper- 
 ations of those charged with its active 
 responsibilities. Gradually, after the en- 
 countering of many formidable obstacles, 
 the preliminary matter of a suitable build- 
 ing was decided; and then, with instinct- 
 ive American speed, the speculation in 
 Crystal Palace stock at once commenced, 
 and was one of the most active " fancies," 
 the gains of forty and fifty per cent., as 
 was in some cases experienced, being quite 
 stimulating. The stock rose, at one time, 
 to seventy or eighty per cent, above par 1 . 
 One gentleman, who had watched the 
 building closely as it advanced in the 
 course of construction, observed one day 
 something which he thought might injure 
 the safety of the edifice. It was only a 
 
 fancy of his ; but, being impressed with 
 it, he walked quietly into Wall street, and, 
 selling out, pocketed a gain of fifteen thou- 
 sand dollars. The distribution of the stock 
 into so many hands, and the widely 
 extended commercial interests involved, 
 gained for the enterprise much of a 
 national character. The public support 
 given by the government to its operations, 
 at home and abroad, helped also to dignify 
 it, and to take away the invidious reputa- 
 tion which would have attached to a proj- 
 ect having no higher aim than mere 
 private gain. Following up this system 
 of encouragement, the affair obtained the 
 confidence and co-operation of all classes, 
 and its consummation was looked forward 
 to as one of the marked events in Ameri- 
 can history. 
 
 On the attention of foreign governments 
 being called to the exhibition, His Sub- 
 lime Highness, the Sultan of Turkey, was 
 one of the first to respond to the appeal, 
 by ordering a steam-frigate to be prepared 
 for the reception and transmission of those 
 splendid fabrics of the Ottoman empire 
 richly carved cabinet constructions, and 
 carpets of wonderful elaboration so much 
 admired the world over. The senate of the 
 United States, at once appropriated twenty 
 thousand dollars, for the purpose of receiv- 
 ing, in a becoming manner of appreciation, 
 the frigate thus so generously dispatched 
 by his oriental majesty. England sent 
 commissioners, and Queen Victoria, the 
 Emperor Napoleon, and other sovereigns, 
 vied with each other in their personal con- 
 tributions and in those from their respect- 
 ive countries. 
 
 Great pains were taken to obtain such a 
 plan for the building as would present the 
 highest architectural merit, and be as per- 
 fectly adapted as possible to the great object 
 in view. At that time, the matter of iron 
 construction on a large scale was almost 
 entirely new in the United States, there 
 being no edifice wholly of that material to 
 be found in the country, and, therefore, 
 the want of experience on the part of both 
 architects and engineers, presented serious 
 obstacles. Many ingenious plans, how- 
 
WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 423 
 
 ever, were offered, from the abridged 
 account of which, as well as of the build- 
 ing itself, prepared by Mr. D. A. Wells, 
 it appears that Sir Joseph Paxton, the 
 architect of the London structure, fur- 
 nished one of sin ular beauty, but the 
 peculiar shape of the ground to be occu- 
 pied rendered it imp jssible to use it. Mr. 
 A. J. Downing offer* d another, of striking 
 originality, but this was also excluded by 
 the peremptory conditions imposed by the 
 city, namely, that the building should be 
 exclusively of iron and glass. Another 
 plan, by Mr. Eidlitz, contemplated a sus- 
 pension roof, so as to obviate the difficulty 
 of spanning great widths by arches. Mr. 
 Bogardus submitted a design for a circular 
 building, consisting of successive colon- 
 
 nades, placed one over the other, somewhat 
 resembling the coliseum at Rome, and 
 involving a new and ingenious method of 
 joining. A plan was also proposed, by 
 Mr. J. W. Adams, consisting of a great 
 octagonal vault or dome, supported by ribs 
 made of fasces or clusters of gas-pipe. 
 The presentation of so many plans, each 
 of a different character, and some of them 
 of great beauty and originality, made the 
 task of selection very difficult. Finally, 
 after much consultation, the plan accepted 
 was that of Messrs. Carstensen and Gilde- 
 meister, of New York, the latter gentle- 
 man being recently from Copenhagen, 
 where he was well-known as the designer 
 of some of the principal public works in 
 
 that city. After the final adoption of a 
 plan, which was in August, 1852, no time 
 was lost in putting the work under way. 
 The piece of ground for the erection of the 
 building, in Reservoir Square, granted by 
 the city, was somewhat unfavorable for 
 architectural purposes; but in other re- 
 spects it was quite favorable, and the 
 structure, when completed, was a magnifi- 
 cent spectacle, its main features being as 
 follows : 
 
 With the exception of the floor, the 
 whole of this splendid palace was con- 
 structed of iron and glass. The general 
 idea of the edifice was a Greek cross, sur- 
 mounted by a dome at the intersection, 
 each diameter of the cross being three 
 hundred and sixty-five feet and five inches 
 long. There were three similar entrances, 
 each forty-seven feet wide, and approached 
 by flights of steps. Over each front was 
 a large semi-circular fan-light, forty-one 
 feet wide and twenty-one feet high, an- 
 swering to the arch of the nave. Each 
 arm of the cross was on the ground plan 
 one hundred and forty-nine feet broad. 
 This was divided into a central nave and 
 two aisles, on each side, the nave forty-one, 
 and each aisle fifty-four feet wide. The 
 central portion, or nave, was carried up to 
 the height of sixty-seven feet, and the 
 semi-circular arch which spanned it was 
 forty-one feet broad. There were thus, in 
 effect, two arched naves crossing each 
 other at right angles, forty-one feet broad, 
 sixty-seven feet high to the crown of the 
 arch, and three hundred and sixty-five feet 
 long ; and, on each side of these naves, an 
 aisle fifty-four feet broad and forty-five 
 feet high. The exterior of the ridgeway 
 of the nave was seventy-one feet. Each 
 aisle was covered by a gallery of its own 
 width, and twenty-four feet from the floor. 
 The central dome was one hundred feet in 
 diameter, sixty-eight feet in? ; de from the 
 floor to the spring of the arch, one hun- 
 dred and eighteen feet to the crown, and, 
 on the outside, with the lantern, one hun- 
 dred and forty-nine feet. The exterior 
 angles of the building were ingeniously 
 filled up with a triangular lean-to, twenty- 
 
424 
 
 WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 four feet high, which gave the ground plan 
 an octagonal shape, each side or face being 
 one hundred and forty-nine feet wide. At 
 each angle was an octagonal tower, eight 
 feet in diameter and seventy-five feet 
 high. 
 
 Ten large, and eight winding staircases, 
 connected the principal floor with the gal- 
 lery, which opened on the three balconies 
 situated over the entrance halls, affording 
 ample space for flower decorations, statues, 
 vases, etc. The building contained, on the 
 ground floor, one hundred and eleven 
 thousand square feet of space, and in its 
 galleries, of fifty-four feet width, sixty-two 
 thousand square feet more, making a total 
 area of one hundred and seventy-three 
 thousand square feet, for the purposes of 
 exhibition ; being a total, within an incon- 
 siderable fraction, of four acres. 
 
 There were on the ground floor of this 
 wonderful structure, one hundred and 
 ninety octagonal cast-iron columns, twenty- 
 one feet above the floor, and eight inches 
 diameter, cast hollow, of different thick- 
 nesses, from half an inch to one inch. 
 These columns received the cast-iron gird- 
 ers, the latter being twenty-six feet long 
 and three feet high, and served to sustain 
 the galleries and the wrought-iron con- 
 struction of the roof, as well as to brace 
 the whole structure in every direction. 
 The girders, as well as the second-story 
 columns, were fastened to the columns in 
 the first story, by connecting pieces of the 
 same octagonal shape as the columns, three 
 feet four inches high. The number of 
 lower floor girders was two hundred and 
 fifty-two, besides twelve wrought - iron 
 girders of the same height, and forty-one 
 feet span over a part of the nave. The 
 second story contained one hundred and 
 forty-eight columns, of the same shape as 
 those below, and seventeen feet seven 
 inches high. These received another tier 
 of girders, numbering one hundred and 
 sixty, for the support of the roofs of the 
 aisles. 
 
 The dome, noble and beautiful in its 
 proportions, constituted the chief architect- 
 ural feature of the building. Its diame- 
 
 ter, one hundred feet, and its height 
 nearly seventy feet to the springing line, 
 and one hundred and twenty-three to the 
 crown of the arch made it the largest, 
 and, with one or two exceptions, the only 
 scientifically constructed dome in the 
 United States ; a dome of oriental charac- 
 teristics, in its light and graceful beauty, 
 seemingly borne in upon a zephyr, and 
 capable of being lifted away by a breath, 
 floating over the whole structure, pure 
 and fascinating, like an aerial grace. 
 
 Twenty- four columns supported the 
 dome, the columns rising to the second 
 story, and to a height of sixty-two feet 
 above the principal floor. The system of 
 wrought-iron trusses which connected them 
 together, and was supported by them, 
 formed two eccentric polygons, each of 
 sixteen sides; these received a cast-iron 
 bed-plate, to which the cast-iron shoes for 
 the ribs of the dome were bolted, the latter 
 being constructed of two curves of double 
 angle-iron, securely connected together by 
 trellis-work, the requisite steadiness being 
 secured by tie-rods, which braced them 
 both vertically and horizontally. At the 
 top, the ribs were bolted to a horizontal 
 ring of wrought and cast iron, having a 
 diameter of twenty feet in clear, and sur- 
 mounted by the lantern. As in the other 
 roofs of the building, the dome was cased 
 with matched deal and tin sheathing, light 
 being communicated to the interior 
 through the lantern, and also in part from 
 the sides, pierced for thirty-two orna- 
 mental windows, these being glazed with 
 stained glass one-eighth of an inch thick, 
 and representing the arms of the Union 
 and of its several States, a feature which 
 formed no inconsiderable part of the inte- 
 rior decoration, and won the admiration of 
 every beholder, foreign as well as Ameri- 
 can. 
 
 The enamel, with which the whole of the 
 glass used in the structure was covered, 
 was laid upon the glass with a brush, and, 
 after drying, subjected to the intense heat 
 of a kiln, by which the coating became vit- 
 rified, and as durable as the glass itself ; 
 the effect produced being similar to that 
 
WORLD'S FAIK IN NEW YORK. 
 
 425 
 
 of ground glass, translucent but not trans- 
 parent, the sun's rays, diffused by passing 
 through it, yielding an agreeable light, 
 deprived of that intensity of heat and 
 glare which is so peculiar to them in this 
 "'climate. In the absence of a similar pre- 
 
 caution in the London crystal palace, 
 whose roofs, as well as walls, were inclosed 
 with transparent glass, it was found nec- 
 essary to cover the interior of the building 
 with canvas, to produce the required 
 shade. The external walls of the New 
 
 York building were of cast-iron framing 
 and panel-work, into which were inserted 
 the sashes of the windows and the louvers 
 for ventilation. 
 
 But the rapid and unexpected increase 
 of applications for space by exhibitors, led 
 to the erection of a large addition to the 
 structure thus described. It consisted 
 of two parts, of one and two stories re- 
 spectively, and occupied the entire 
 ground between the main building and 
 the reservoir ; its length, four hundred 
 and fifty-one feet, and its extreme width 
 seventy-five feet. It was designed for 
 the reception of machinery in motion, 
 the cabinets of mining and mineralogy, 
 and the refreshment rooms, with their 
 necessary offices. The second story, 
 nearly four hundred and fifty feet long 
 and twenty-one wide, and extending the 
 whole length, was entirely devoted to 
 the exhibition of pictures and statuary. 
 In the work of decorating the build- 
 ing, the leading idea was to bring out to 
 advantage the beautiful architectural 
 character of the edifice itself to decor- 
 ate construction, rather than to con- 
 struct decoration. The result proved 
 surprisingly attractive. The colors em- 
 ployed on the exterior were mixed in 
 oil, the base being white lead. The 
 outside presented the appearance of a 
 building of a light-colored bronze, of 
 which all features purely ornamental 
 were of gold. The inside had a prevail- 
 ing tone of buff, or rich cream color, 
 which was given to all the cast-iron 
 constructive work. This color was re- 
 lieved by a moderate and judicious use 
 of the three positive colors, red, blue, 
 and yellow, in their several tints of ver- 
 milion, garnet, sky-blue, and orange 
 certain parts of the ornamental work 
 being gilt to accord with the arrange- 
 ment of colors employed in the decora- 
 tion of the ceilings. The only exceptions 
 to the use of oil colors were the ceiling of 
 the lean-to and the dome, these being exe- 
 cuted on canvas. 
 
 The effect of the interior of the dome 
 was particularly splendid. The rays from 
 
426 
 
 WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 a golden sun, at the center, descended 
 between tlie latticed ribs, and arabesques 
 of white and blue, relieved by stars, sur- 
 rounded the openings, the effect of tb.3 
 whole being very fine. This splendid 
 appearance by day was even excelled by the 
 gorgeous illumination of the structure at 
 night, produced by countless gas-burners. 
 
 In the construction of this vast and 
 splendid palace of industry, the whole 
 quantity of iron employed amounted to 
 one thousand eight hundred tons, of which 
 three hundred tons were wrought and 
 fifteen hundred tons cast iron ; the quan- 
 tity of glass used, fifteen thousand panes, 
 or fifty-five thousand square feet ; and the 
 quantity of wood amounted to seven hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand feet, board meas- 
 ure. The general mode of erection by 
 base pieces, columns, connecting pieces 
 and girders, was the same with that of the 
 great London palace ; but the construction 
 of the arched nave, and of the dome, was of 
 course entirely peculiar, and the general 
 effect of the structure completely different. 
 The London building was regarded as defi- 
 cient in architectural effect. The form of 
 the New York edifice furnished scope for 
 a pleasing variety of embellishments, by 
 which all monotony was avoided. 
 
 Exclusive of the naves, the total amount 
 of space on the floor, occupied by different 
 countries for exhibition, was about one 
 hundred and fifty-two thousand square feet, 
 of which a little more than ninety-four 
 thousand was on the ground floor. The 
 total amount of space occupied by foreign 
 exhibitors was nearly one hundred thou- 
 sand square feet; and the total number of 
 this class of exhibitors was nearly three 
 thousand. In the United States depart- 
 ment, the number of exhibitors was not 
 far from two thousand, the largest propor- 
 tion of whom were included under the fol- 
 lowing classes: mineralogy, metallurgy, 
 and mining ; machinery and tools ; agri- 
 cultural implements ; hardware ; and the 
 fine arts. 
 
 The details of the exhibition, with the 
 collecting and arranging of the various 
 departments, was intrusted to the follow- 
 
 ing gentlemen : General superintendents, 
 Captains Dupont and Davis ; arrangement 
 of space and classification, Samuel Web- 
 ber ; department of mineralogy and chem- 
 istry, Professor B. Silliman, Jr. ; director 
 of machinery, J. E. Holmes; director of 
 agricultural implements, B. P. Johnson ; 
 director of sculpture, Felix Piatti ; director 
 of textile fabrics, Edward Vincent ; these 
 having the co-operation of a large corps of 
 assistants, experienced in the various spe- 
 cialties named. 
 
 It was the intention of the officers of 
 the association, that the building should 
 be finished and the exhibition opened to 
 the public by the first day of May, 1853. 
 But many unlooked-for delays intervened, 
 and the opening was necessarily deferred 
 until the fourteenth of July, on which day 
 the palace was formally inaugurated with 
 appropriate services. On a platform were 
 assembled the officers of the association, 
 and many of the distinguished men of 
 Europe and America, including His Excel- 
 lency, Hon. Franklin Pierce, president of 
 the United States, and members of his cab- 
 inet. The devotional exercises, on open- 
 ing the exhibition, were led by Bishop 
 Wainwright; and then a choral, written 
 for the occasion, and commencing with the 
 line, " Here, where all climes their offer- 
 ings send," was sung to the tune of Old 
 Hundred. Mr. Sedgwick, the president 
 of the association, then pronounced, an 
 address, stating the objects and prospects 
 of the exhibition, and was followed by the 
 president of the United States, in a brief 
 and appropriate congratulatory speech, in 
 which he bespoke for the great national 
 enterprise the cordial patronage of all 
 classes and sections, and characterized it 
 as an event fitly reflecting the progress, 
 power, and glory of the republic. After 
 this, the organ poured through the aisles 
 the sublime music of Handel's " Hallelu- 
 jah Chorus," and the palace of glass, with 
 its myriad forms of wonder and beauty, 
 and its mighty lesson of civilization, was a 
 completed fact. The tide of humanity 
 that flowed into the palace, from day to 
 day, was constant and prodigious. 
 
WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 427 
 
 Such a magnificent display of the prod- 
 ucts of human ingenuity and skill had 
 never before been witnessed in the west- 
 ern world. Not only did America present 
 its choicest elaborations of industry, in 
 almost infinite variety, but climes and 
 countries to the furthermost quarters of 
 the globe were there represented in count- 
 less contributions of the useful and the 
 beautiful. England and France made 
 vast and superb offerings to the great 
 transatlantic bazaar, and their example 
 was followed by the other continental 
 nations. Scandinavia, Norway, Sweden, 
 and the German Zollverein, poured forth 
 the selectest contents of their mines, 
 manufactories, workshops, and studios. 
 Among the former were iron ore, steel, 
 wrought iron for gun-barrels, stearin can- 
 dles, nickel, cobalt, copper, geological speci- 
 mens, snow-shoes, reindeer antlers, a musi- 
 cal instrument called the psalmodicon, 
 wood carvings by Norwegian peasants, 
 and for which they are celebrated. From 
 the Zollverein States, there was an attract- 
 ive variety of objects, the most interesting 
 of which were the works of art, principally 
 paintings. The first artists of modern 
 Germany contributed to this part of the 
 collection, and in such quantity as far sur- 
 passed general expectation. The names 
 of eminence which appeared in this con- 
 nection, were those of Huebner, Achen- 
 bach, Muller, Elsasser, Openheimer, and 
 from Vienna, Waldmuller and Swobada. 
 
 Conspicuous also among the foreign 
 attractions, was the celebrated picture con- 
 tributed by Queen Victoria, representing 
 the duke of Wellington presenting a birth- 
 day gift to the infant Prince Arthur, the 
 youngest member of the royal family. 
 This picture was painted by Winterhalter, 
 at the queen's express desire ; as a work of 
 art alone it secured great attention, and 
 was deservedly extolled by all lovers of 
 beauty and perfection. But the fact of its 
 being the queen's most valued and pet 
 picture, and forwarded, in her own name, 
 as a tribute of recognition to America's 
 great exhibition, heightened the interest 
 with which it was viewed. 
 
 The splendid colossal group of Christ 
 and his apostles, by Thorwaldsen one of 
 the masterpieces of sculpture was the 
 theme of much praise, drawing crowds of 
 admirers daily. The same also may be 
 said of that matchless piece of art, Kiss's 
 " Amazon," a copy from the original work 
 in bronze, erected near the museum in 
 Berlin. Next to the fine equestrian statue 
 of Washington, this of the Amazon was 
 considered the boldest and most striking 
 piece of statuary exhibited. But some of 
 the most beautiful contributions, in the 
 department of fine arts, were to be found 
 among those which, in point of size, were 
 comparatively diminutive. The veiled 
 statues, for example, seemed almost' like 
 angelic creations. The cast-iron statuettes 
 from the royal iron foundry at Vienna, 
 were also beautiful ; each stood on an ara- 
 besque pedestal, and was about twelve 
 inches in height, of a dead black color, 
 nearly resembling ebony, and of the most 
 exquisite quality of casting. 
 
 More grand and impressive than any- 
 thing else in the Italian department, was 
 the statue of Columbus, in the purest 
 marble, his left hand resting upon a ter- 
 restrial globe, to which the right pointed. 
 This superb statue was of life size, and 
 from the chisel of Del Medico, of Carrari. 
 
 An admirable little group, which riveted 
 the attention of every observer, was the 
 Cage of Cupids, all in marble, a bevy of 
 the little creatures, represented as tired of 
 their confinement and striving to escape ; 
 this happy and unique conception was 
 executed in a style of workmanship that 
 may well be termed marvelous. 
 
 Most amusing, to old and young, was 
 the plastic model of Gulliver in Lilliput, 
 made by A. Fleischmann, in Sonneberg, 
 Saxony. From the opening to the close 
 of the exhibition, there was a constant 
 crowd of visitors around this admirably 
 executed work. Quite different in char- 
 acter and in the kind of interest which it 
 inspired, was the collection of ancient 
 armor sent by the English government 
 from the tower of London, and which com- 
 prised a helmet worn in Henry the 
 
428 
 
 WORLD'S FAIR IN NEW YORK. 
 
 Eighth's time, or about the year 1520 ; an 
 ancient shield of the time of King Edward 
 IV., in 1547 ; a helmet of the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth, about 1560, and a pike- 
 man's lance, eighteen feet long, of the 
 same period; a heavy breast-plate, one- 
 quarter of an inch thick, bearing date 
 1685; also, some very interesting speci- 
 mens of ancient muskets, one of which, a 
 flint lock with a plug baj'onet, was used 
 during the reign of King James the Sec- 
 ond, in 1686. 
 
 From France came the rarest and most 
 delicate tapestries and porcelains, includ- 
 ing some of the celebrated Gobelin carpets, 
 sent expressly by the French government. 
 These carpets are remarkable for smooth- 
 ness, softness, and fineness of texture, as 
 well as for their strength and evenness, 
 excelling even the Persian in these re- 
 spects, and the colors and designs are per- 
 fect. Some of these carpets require from 
 five to ten years for their completion, and 
 at a cost of ten thousand to thirty thou- 
 sand dollars. None are sold, being exclu- 
 sively of government manufacture and 
 use. The largest ever made was more 
 than one thousand three hundred feet. 
 Among other exquisite pieces sent to the 
 exhibition, was the "Subject taken from 
 the Chase and Still Life," and pronounced 
 to excel in the softness, delicacy, and bril- 
 liancy, with which all the minute traits of 
 both animal and vegetable life are rendered 
 in this wonderful species of manufacture. 
 
 But no details possible within the com- 
 pass of a few pages merely, would do jus- 
 tice to the vast and varied contents of this 
 
 World's Fair, with its four acres of richly 
 teeming surface, from nearly five thousand 
 contributors ; nor, indeed, has any attempt 
 been here made to describe those more 
 practical and extensive features of the 
 exhibition, those grand industries, cover^ 
 ing so wide and important a range in the 
 elements and activities of modern civiliza- 
 tion, which constituted the chief scope 
 and lesson of the undertaking. Of this 
 numerous class are those ingenious and 
 useful inventions pertaining to the various 
 processes of agriculture, mines and their 
 products ; machinery for constructive, mo- 
 tive, and manufacturing purposes ; etc., etc. 
 For several months, the palace was open 
 to the public, according to its original 
 plan, and subsequently it was decided to 
 make the building and its attractions per- 
 manent, the occasion being celebrated by 
 public ceremonies appropriate to the event. 
 Among the speakers was Elihu Burritt, 
 who, in the course of one of the most bril- 
 liant of speeches, said : " Worthy of the 
 grandest circumstances which could be 
 thrown around a human assembly, worthy 
 of this occasion and a hundred like this, is 
 that beautiful idea the CORONATION OF 
 LABOR. Not American labor, not Brit- 
 ish labor, not French labor, not the labor 
 of the New World or the Old, but the 
 labor of mankind as one undivided broth- 
 erhood Labor, as the oldest, the noblest, 
 prerogative of duty and humanity." Most 
 unfortunately, this beautiful palace, so 
 wonderful in its construction, and such an 
 ornament to the chief city of America, was 
 totally destroyed by fire, in October, 1858. 
 
LIII. 
 
 LOSS OF THE SPLENDID COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC, 
 
 OF NEW YORK, BY COLLISION WITH THE IRON 
 
 STEAMER VESTA. 1854. 
 
 Occurrence of the Disaster in Mid-Ocean, at Noonday, in a Dense Fog. Sinking of the Noble Ship 
 Stern Foremost. Hundreds of Souls Engulfed in a Watery Grave. Experiences Crowded into That 
 Awful Hour. The Wail of Agony and Despair from the Fated Throng. Bet Non-Arrival, Painful 
 Suspense. The Dreadful News at Last. Shock to the Public Mind. Strong Build of the Arctic. 
 Prestige of the Collins Line. A Casualty Undreamed Of. Surging Crowd in Wall Street. Names 
 of Lost and Saved Read. Hope, Joy, Grief, Anguish. The Sad Tale on all Lips. Captain Luce in 
 the Hour of Woe. Manliness of His First Order. Ship Deserted by the Crew. " Every Man for 
 Himself." A Raft Constructed, but in Vain. Courage of the Women. Not One of Their Sex 
 Saved. Instances of Cool Bravery. An Engineer's Heroic Fidelity. 30,000 for a Chance in a 
 Boat. Pleasure Tourists on Board. All of Mr. Collins's Family Lost. 
 
 "The fate of the ihlp ehall be mine." CAPTAIN LUCE. COMMANDER OF THE ABOTIO 
 
 iEAVING Liverpool, England, on the twentieth of September, 1854, 
 the magnificent steamer Arctic, of the Collins line, plying between that city and New 
 York, was, on the seventh day out, at noon, while running in a fog, totally engulfed, 
 
430 
 
 LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 with hundreds of souls, millions of treas- | 
 ure, and a heavy mail of incalculable value, 
 in consequence of collision with the French 
 iron screw-steamer Vesta. The Arctic 
 was commanded by Captain Luce; the 
 Vesta, by Captain Duchesne. 
 
 For many a long day after the time 
 when this superb vessel was due at New 
 York, the public mind was in agonizing 
 suspense as to her fate. From the well- 
 known immense strength and complete 
 equipment of the Arctic, this was the only 
 sort of casualty likely to be serious to her, 
 and this does not appear to have been 
 anticipated by even the most sagacious 
 sea-faring man. In every respect, the 
 success of the Collins line reflected the 
 highest honor upon American nautical 
 enterprise and skill. 
 
 The news of this lamentable catastrophe 
 carried deep and heart-rending sorrow to 
 the homes of thousands both in this coun- 
 try and in Europe. On the news reaching 
 New York, October 14th, that city as- 
 sumed the appearance of one great funeral. 
 The flags waved at half-mast throughout 
 the metropolis, upon all the public build- 
 ings and hotels, as also upon the shipping 
 in the harbor. The office of Mr. E. K. 
 Collins, the founder and proprietor of this 
 splendid line of steamships, was crowded 
 with anxious visitors from early in the 
 morning until the place was closed in the 
 afternoon. All who wished to hear of rel- 
 atives or friends called there, as the most 
 likely place to learn the fate of those for 
 whom they hoped even against hope. It 
 was a sad gathering of grief-stricken citi- 
 zens, among whom were fathers, brothers, 
 and sons, tremulously waiting for intelli- 
 gence which would either give the death- 
 blow to all hope itself, or give back again 
 all the buoyancy of life by the promised 
 restoration of the lost. Often during the 
 day was heard the inquiry put to the 
 attendants in the counting-room of Mr. 
 Collins, 'Have you any news of my 
 brother ? ' 'Do you think my son is 
 safe ? ' ' Have you seen any of the pas- 
 sengers who could probably tell me of the 
 affair, and give me intelligence of my 
 
 father ? ' Many, too, with tears in their 
 eyes, grasped the hands of friends, and 
 the questions were exchanged, ' Who of 
 your friends were on board ? ' and ' Who 
 of yours ? ' It seemed as if everybody had 
 either relations or acquaintances on board 
 the sad-fated vessel. As each report came 
 in of the passengers heard from as safe, it 
 was a picture full of interest to see the 
 eagerness with which all turned their ears 
 to hear the report read, and the faces 
 lighten up with gladness as the wished-for 
 name fell from the lips of the reader. 
 
 Some, upon receiving information of a 
 rescue of the supposed lost, were at once 
 engaged in receiving the congratulations 
 of those about them ; others turned around 
 to offer condolence and mingle sympathy 
 with the rest, for whom had come no 
 happy tidings ; and others, again, rushed 
 in haste from the building to circulate the 
 report among friends outside, or to convey 
 it to mourning families at home. Wher- 
 ever this intelligence came, it was like the 
 news of a resurrection from the dead. 
 Notwithstanding in all hope flickered 
 dimly, yet the catastrophe was so appall- 
 ing, and the chances of a rescue so few, 
 that each was filled with the greatest fear, 
 and all were alike prepared for the worst, 
 though continually hoping for the best. 
 
 Not only in the office of the Ocean Steam 
 Company, but in all places, were the same 
 evidences apparent, that some heavy blow 
 had fallen upon the heart, and, crushing 
 out what was happy and peaceful, had 
 placed the burden of sorrow there. At all 
 frequented corners, along the streets, at 
 store doors, in banking-houses, groups 
 were assembled, each with the other can- 
 vassing the chances of safety for some 
 friend, or recapitulating the calamitous 
 story of the shipwreck. All business in 
 Wall street was for a time stopped ; and 
 merchants and bankers, forgetting the rise 
 of stocks and the fluctuations of trade, by 
 'one touch of nature ' were brought together 
 as participants in the general grief. The 
 Exchange was crowded during the day, but 
 the loss of the Arctic was the sole en- 
 grossing topic. 
 
LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 431 
 
 At the time of the collision, Captain 
 Luce was below, working out the position 
 of the steamer. He immediately ran on 
 deck and saw the iron steamer under the 
 starboard bow, and passing astern, grazing 
 and tearing the guards in her progress. 
 The bows of the strange vessel seemed to 
 be literally cut or crushed off for ten feet, 
 and seeing that she must probably sink in 
 ten minutes, Captain Luce took a glance 
 at his own ship, and believing her to be 
 comparatively uninjured, the boats were 
 cleared and the first officer and six men 
 left with a boat to board the stranger and 
 ascertain the extent of her damage. The 
 engineers were immediately instructed to 
 put on the steam pumps, and the four deck 
 pumps were worked by the passengers and 
 crew. The ship was at once headed for 
 the land, and several ineffectual attempts 
 were made to stop the leak by getting sails 
 over the bows. Finding that the leak was 
 gaining very fast, notwithstanding the 
 very powerful efforts made to keep the 
 ship free, Captain Luce resolved to get the 
 boats ready, and have as many ladies and 
 children in them as possible. 
 
 No sooner, however, had an attempt 
 been made to do this, than the firemen and 
 others rushed into the boats in spite of all 
 opposition. Seeing this state of things, 
 the captain ordered the boats astern to be 
 kept in readiness until order could be 
 restored, when, to his dismay, he saw 
 them cut the rope in the bow, and soon 
 disappear astern in the fog. Another 
 boat was broken down by persons rushing 
 in at the davits, and many were precipi- 
 tated into the sea and drowned. This 
 occurred while the captain had been en- 
 gaged in getting the starboard guard-boat 
 ready. He had placed the second officer 
 in charge, when the same scene was 
 enacted as with the first boat. He then 
 gave orders to the second officer to let go 
 and tow after the ship, keeping near the 
 stern, to be ready to take the women and 
 children as soon as the fires were out and 
 the engine should stop. The quarter-boat 
 was found broken down, but hanging by 
 one tackle ; a rush was made for her also, 
 
 some fifteen getting m, and, cutting tho 
 tackle, were soon out of sight. Not a sea- 
 man was now left on board, nor a carpen- 
 ter, there were no tools to assist in build- 
 ing a raft as the only hope, and the only 
 officer left was Mr. Dorian, the third mate, 
 who worked nobly for the success of all. 
 
 To form a raft, it became necessary to 
 get the only remaining boat a life-boat 
 into the water. This being accomplished, 
 Mr. Dorian, the chief officer of the boat, 
 taking care to keep the oars on board the 
 steamer to prevent those in the boat from 
 leaving the ship, proceeded to work, still 
 hoping to be able to get the women and 
 children on board his boat at last. They 
 had made considerable progress in collect- 
 ing spars, when the alarm was given that 
 the ship was sinking, and the boat was 
 shoved off without oars or anything to 
 hold themselves. 
 
 In an instant after, at about a quarter- 
 past five, P. M., the ship went down, car- 
 rying every soul on board with her. 
 
 Captain Luce soon found himself on the 
 surface, after a brief struggle, with his 
 fragile child in his arms ; then again 
 found himself impelled downward to a 
 great depth,, and, before reaching the sur- 
 face a second time, had nearly perished, 
 losing the hold of his child as he struggled 
 upwards. On thus getting upon the sur- 
 face of the water, once more, the most 
 awful and heart-rending scene presented 
 itself over two hundred men, women, and 
 children were struggling together, amid 
 pieces of the wreck, calling upon each 
 other for help, and imploring God to assist 
 them ! Amid this struggling mass of 
 human beings, he discovered his child, and 
 was in the act of trying to save him, when 
 a portion of the paddle-box came rushing 
 up edgewards, just grazing the captain's 
 head and falling with its whole weight 
 upon the head of the helpless child. Cap- 
 tain Luce then succeeded in getting on the 
 top of the paddle-box in company with 
 eleven others ; one, however, soon left for 
 another piece, and others remained until 
 relieved by death. Those who were left, 
 stood in water up to their knees, the sea 
 
432 
 
 LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 frequently breaking over them; and the 
 suffering party were soon reduced by death 
 to Captain Luce and one other, who, after 
 an exposure of forty-six hours, were rescued 
 by the ship Cambria, Captain Russell, 
 bound to Quebec. 
 
 Mr. Dorian, the energetic and faithful 
 officer named above, asserted, in his ac- 
 count of the disaster, that if all the officers 
 and men had remained by the ship, all, or 
 nearly all, of the passengers, would have 
 been saved ; that, with the masts, spars, 
 and the cutting off of the hurricane deck, 
 a raft could have been formed capable of 
 carrying the whole of them. He further 
 states that among the passengers on board 
 the Arctic he never saw men more coolly 
 courageous, and that their quiet resigna- 
 tion and implicit confidence in. the captain 
 and officers of the ship were such as it was 
 impossible to surpass. A particular illus- 
 tration of this, was the fidelity exhibited 
 by a young gentleman named Holland, 
 of Washington, who was on board the 
 steamer for the purpose of gaining instruc- 
 tion in engineering. He had been deputed 
 by the captain to fire the signal gun 
 when all others had fled, and, amid the 
 melancholy wail, he pursued his duty. 
 When all hope had fled, and the vessel 
 was nearly level with the sea, Holland was 
 seen busy with the gun. His last shot 
 , boomed out as the Arctic sank, and he 
 went down with her persevering in the 
 strict performance of his duty. 
 
 In the construction of the raft, the two 
 foreyard arms were cut down and lashed 
 together, making the raft about forty feet 
 long and three or four feet wide. On 
 being finished, it was launched on the lar- 
 board side, and in a few minutes after 
 there were about seventy persons clinging 
 to it, four of whom were women. Several 
 other rafts were made, but none of them 
 were so large as this. Doors, barrels, and, 
 in fact, everything that floated, came into 
 use. On some of these there were two 
 and three, but the largest could not sup- 
 port more than four or five. 
 
 How a man feels during the process of 
 drowning may be judged by the statement 
 
 of Mr. McCabe, a passenger, who says: 
 I remained on the vessel until she sank, 
 when I went down with her. I had been 
 employed a few minutes before with two 
 others, one of whom was called 'Tom the 
 storekeeper,' in lashing some casks to- . 
 gether, when I was driven away by the 
 water, which rushed in with fearful impet- 
 uosity. Jumping upon the paddle-box, I 
 sprang on the saloon deck, and in an 
 instant was engulfed in the surging 
 waters, which soon closed over our heads. 
 Down, down we sank, with our noble vessel, 
 into the bosom of the ocean, and the terri- 
 ble thought took possession of my mind 
 that I was drowning. I retained my con- 
 sciousness, however, all the time I was 
 under the water, and it was with a feeling 
 of intense joy that I found, after about 
 half a minute, that I was rapidly rising 
 towards the surface. It was all darkness 
 before, but now I could see a dim light 
 above me, and in a few seconds I was on 
 the top of the water, struggling for life. 
 Being a good swimmer, and having, be- 
 sides, the support of a life-preserver, I suc- 
 ceeded in reaching a door, which was float- 
 ing a few feet from where I rose. I looked 
 around me, but there was no trace of the 
 vessel except a few loose timbers and the 
 rafts which were floating about, some with 
 and others without passengers. Finding 
 I could not retain my hold of the door with 
 safety, I left it and swam to a barrel 
 which lay a few feet from me, and from 
 this again I swam to the large raft, to 
 which some seventy persons were clinging. 
 The sea, though not strong, was rough, and 
 the waves, as they dashed remorselessly 
 over the raft, washed away a portion of its 
 living freight. It was an awful scene a 
 multitude of human beings, in the midst of 
 the ocean, without the slightest hope of 
 assistance, while every minute one by one 
 was dropping into a watery grave, from 
 sheer exhaustion. Those who had life- 
 preservers did not sink, but floated with 
 their ghastly faces upwards, reminding 
 those who still remained alive, of the fate 
 that awaited them. Of those who dropped 
 away, some floated off and were gnawed 
 
LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 433 
 
 and eaten by fishes, while others were 
 washed under the raft, where their faces 
 could be seen through the openings, as 
 they were swayed to and fro by the waves. 
 The raft at one time was so crowded that 
 many had to hold on by one hand. Very 
 few words were spoken by any, and the 
 only sound to be heard was the splash of 
 the waters or the heavy breathing of the 
 poor sufferers, as they tried to recover 
 their breath, after a wave had passed over 
 them. Nearly all were submerged to their 
 armpits, while a few could with great dif- 
 ficulty keep their heads above the surface. 
 The women were the first to go ; they 
 
 his pocket, but finding this impossible, on 
 account of being ill so cramped a position, 
 placed it between his teeth until overtaken 
 by a tremendous wave, when he lost his 
 hold upon it and it was washed away. 
 Another, who had on an oiled silk coat, 
 called on McCabe, for heaven's sake, to 
 render assistance, as his strength was rap- 
 idly failing, and he must fall off if not 
 relieved. As he was about four or five 
 feet distant, it was difficult to reach him, 
 but after considerable exertions this was 
 done, McCabe helping him by the use of a 
 knee, until, becoming himself quite faint, 
 the hapless man was, by necessity, left to 
 
 LOSS OF THE COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC, BY COLLISION AT NOONDAY, IN MID-OCEAN. 
 
 were unable to stand the exposure more 
 than three or four hours. They all fell off 
 the raft without a word, except one poor 
 girl, who cried out in intense agony, " Oh, 
 my poor mother and sisters ! " 
 
 At the expiration of some eighteen 
 hours, there were not more than three or 
 iour persons remaining upon it, including 
 McCabe. One of these gave to the latter 
 what appeared to be a small map, but 
 which the giver was understood to say was 
 a sort of title-deed to his property. In a 
 few moments after thus transferring it, 
 he, too, unloosed his hold, and was added 
 to the number that floated about the raft. 
 McCabe endeavored to get the paper into 
 28 
 
 his fate. Poor fellow, he promised if he 
 ever got to New York alive, he would 
 reward his deliverer well. He clung with 
 terrible tenacity to life, but he, too, 
 dropped off in his turn. 
 
 McCabe was now the only one left upon 
 the raft not a solitary person being alive, 
 of all the seventy who, within a few hours, 
 were his companions. The night of the 
 second day was about closing on him, and 
 during the whole time he haa been in the 
 water, he had not eaten a particle of any- 
 thing nor drank a drop. His strength 
 was beginning to give way, and his sight 
 had become so dim as to render objects 
 invisible a few feet off even the ghastly 
 
434 
 
 LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP AKCTIC. 
 
 faces of the dead that looked up from 
 under the raft were hardly discernible. 
 Determined to make one more effort for 
 life, he raised himself on his knees upon 
 the raft, and through the dusk of evening 
 saw, or thought he saw, a vessel. At this, 
 his strength revived, and in a few mo- 
 ments was heard the voice of some one 
 approaching in a boat. And so it proved. 
 After twenty-six hours of exposure, lie was 
 rescued from a watery grave, by a boat 
 manned by Mr. Dorian, some sailors, and 
 Captain Grann, one of the Arctic pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 A lucid description of the whole scene, 
 as given by Captain Grann, who was below 
 at the time of the collision, states that 
 upon going on deck, the Vesta was on the 
 starboard quarter of the Arctic, about half 
 a cable's length off, with her starboard 
 bow completely stove, from stem to fore- 
 rigging, to the water's edge. The Vesta 
 lowered a boat, which got under the star- 
 board wheel of the Arctic, and was 
 swamped. When I came on deck (contin- 
 ues Captain Grann,) they were lowering 
 away the boats. Both anchors were on 
 the starboard side of the deck, and I went 
 aft and asked Captain Luce if I should 
 remove the anchors to the port side, as all 
 of the ship's officers were aft, lowering 
 away the boats and rigging pumps. He 
 gave orders so to do, and, with the assist- 
 ance of some passengers and a few of the 
 crew, I carried the same into execution. I 
 then went on the topgallant forecastle and 
 examined into the state of her bows. 
 Could see no evidences of her being stove, 
 excepting some bad chafes, the oakum 
 hanging out, and a piece of the iron boat 
 protruding from the planks. As soon as 
 I discovered this, I reported it to Captain 
 Luce, which was the first known of the 
 Arctic having received serious damage. 
 He then requested me to go below and 
 ascertain, if possible, where the leak was. 
 Went below and broke cargo could hear 
 water rushing in. The carpenter was 
 ordered below between decks to stop the 
 leak, and commenced cutting away the 
 ceiling. I went to work with crew and 
 
 passengers, breaking out cargo from lower 
 hold, but very soon discovered that it 
 would be impossible to stop the leak, as the 
 water was over the cargo. I then left the 
 hold and went on deck, where I learnt that 
 the lower fires were out, and from this time 
 all order and discipline ceased on board. 
 The water was up to the lower deck, and 
 gaining rapidly, passengers and crew still 
 laboring at the pumps. 
 
 There were six boats on board. The 
 first boat was lowered with the chief mate, 
 boatswain, and three men ; she was low- 
 ered to ascertain the condition of the other 
 steamer, and was left behind on its being 
 found that the Arctic was in a sinking 
 condition. Two of the quarter-boats were 
 taken by the second and fourth officers 
 and crew. Another boat was taken by the 
 engineers, and was supplied with provis- 
 ions, water, etc. ; there were only eight or 
 nine in this boat, and, though it was not 
 full, they would not permit any one else 
 to come on board indeed, it was said that 
 revolvers were threatened to be used on 
 this occasion. The fourth quarter-boat 
 was hauled alongside by Captain Luce, 
 the third mate, and Captain Grann. Into 
 this boat, placed in charge of one of the 
 ship's quartermasters, Captain Luce put a 
 number of ladies ; immediately, several of 
 the gentlemen passengers made a rush and 
 jumped into the boat, and, as it was full, 
 the painter was cut and the boat drifted 
 astern. The sixth boat was on the quar- 
 ter-deck, and, a lot of spare spars being 
 secured for making a raft, this boat was 
 launched, for the purpose of aiding the 
 construction the oars being taken out of 
 her, so that those who got on board should 
 not desert while the lashing of the raft 
 was going on. This latter work being 
 completed as far as was possible, the boat, 
 which was now full, was shoved off from 
 the raft, and, in about ten minutes after, 
 the noble steamer went down, stern fore- 
 most. One fearful shriek went up to 
 heaven from that agonized company, as 
 they were swept forward against the 
 smoke-stack ; and then all was over. 
 At the time of the collision, the passen- 
 
LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 435 
 
 gers had gathered in the cabin, prepara- 
 tory to luncheon, and some of them were 
 engaged in drawing the numbers of the 
 daily lottery, the chances of the same 
 being based upon the number of miles run 
 during the preceding twenty-four hours. 
 The Arctic was then running at the rate 
 of twelve and one-half miles an hour, the 
 usual speed in foggy weather in that lati- 
 tude. Two men were on the lookout, sta- 
 tioned on the forecastle, and there was all 
 the usual precaution against such a calam- 
 ity. The advancing vessel was seen but a 
 moment before she struck, but the instant 
 she was discovered through the dense fog, 
 the order was given, " Hard starboard the 
 helm and reverse the engine." The order 
 was as quickly obeyed ; and, though at 
 first there was no realization of the actual 
 damage done, the terror and confusion 
 became very great when the extent of the 
 injury was disclosed. The conduct of 
 Captain Luce was calm, manly, courageous ; 
 to the last he declared, " The fate of the 
 ship shall be mine." Catherwood, the 
 eminent artist, Professor Reed, and Messrs. 
 Sandford and Benedict, the well-known 
 jurists, were early among the lost. 
 
 On its appearing that the Arctic was 
 inevitably lost, the captain put Mrs. Col- 
 lins wife of the owner of the line and 
 her children, with other women, children, 
 and passengers, into a boat which was on 
 the larboard side of the ship, near the 
 wheel-house ; a little biscuit and water 
 were provided, but they were without 
 compass, and not a single man able to 
 guide their course. Unfortunately, at the 
 moment of lowering this boat, one of the 
 pulleys gave way, the other remaining 
 entangled. The boat was precipitated 
 nearly perpendicularly, and all who were 
 in it, excepting three persons, were thrown 
 into the sea and lost. At such a moment, 
 a misfortune like this was without a 
 remedy. 
 
 The overhauling of the boat, now empty, 
 was achieved at last, and it was impossi- 
 ble to regulate her destiny, by any mere 
 official orders. Passengers and sailors, 
 without ceremony, jumped into the boat, 
 
 which was in a few seconds filled. M. de 
 Grammont tried to jump, but fell into the 
 sea, and would immediately have perished, 
 had it not been for his servant, who, by a 
 superhuman effort, hoisted him on board. 
 Dulaquais (the servant) regained the boat 
 by means of a rope, inviting the master to 
 follow his example, but the boat had 
 already got under way. Dulaquais made 
 a great jump, and fell like an inert mass 
 into the boat. M. de Grammont, from 
 lack of strength to imitate him, was obliged 
 to allow the precious moment to pass 
 unimproved which separated safety from 
 death. 
 
 One passenger offered thirty thousand 
 pounds sterling, or one hundred and fifty 
 thousand dollars, if the boats would put 
 back to save him. They turned to do so, 
 but before they reached him he sank, 
 uttering, as he disappeared, the most 
 piercing moan of deathly agony. 
 
 Another instance was that of a man 
 who, just as one of the boats was shoving 
 off from the Arctic, called piteously to a 
 friend in the boat, and, bidding him good- 
 bye, requested him to bear his love to his 
 wife in Philadelphia, and tell her he was 
 gone. 
 
 Mr. Brennan, one of the engineers, had 
 an opportunity to be saved in the chief 
 engineer's boat, but he had charge of a 
 boy whom he would not abandon ; both, 
 however, were saved in another boat. An 
 unknown gentleman threw a heavy purse 
 of gold from the ship to the boy, after the 
 latter got into the boat. 
 
 The following statement, made by a 
 gentleman who was saved from the wreck, 
 exhibits human nature in one of its 
 strange phases, in view of so terrible a 
 crisis : Among our passengers was a gen- 
 tleman about thirty-five to thirty-eight 
 years of age, of very reserved manners, 
 and evidently depressed spirits. Being 
 located in the same berth, I was one day 
 accidentally struck by the significant fact 
 that his linen was marked with initials 
 differing from those of the name by which 
 he passed and in which he had shipped. 
 A few remarks from me induced him 
 
436 
 
 LOSS OF THE STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. 
 
 (under promise of secrecy, which the ex- 
 tent of this communication does not vio- 
 late), to explain how circumstances of a 
 distressing nature had induced his expa- 
 triation. Subsequent conversations re- 
 vealed to me that blighted hopes con- 
 strained him to regard his existence but 
 lightly, and, from his stolid indifference 
 when the encounter took place, it is my 
 belief that he courted those embraces of 
 death which, alas ! so many have vainly 
 struggled to resist. 
 
 Every account confirms the statement 
 that the ladies exhibited the most admira- 
 ble coolness, and stared death in the face 
 with a heroism which should have put to 
 blush the men who deserted and left them 
 to their fate. At the moment when one of 
 the unfortunate boats was disappearing 
 from mortal view, a French lady, remarked 
 for her dark complexion, was seen to be 
 courageously using her oar. Not a single 
 female, however, of whom there were some 
 sixty on board, escaped the awful doom, 
 though every possible effort was made by 
 Captain Luce to have the women, chil- 
 dren, and passengers first cared for. Thus, 
 when one of the men attempted to leave, 
 the captain caught him, and tore the shirt 
 off the man's back to prevent him from 
 going, exclaiming, " Let the passengers 
 go in the boat." He also seized a kind of 
 axe, and attempted to prevent the firemen 
 reaching the boat ; but it was ' every one 
 for himself,' and, finally, no more attention 
 was paid to the captain than to any other 
 man on board. 
 
 The Arctic was built in New York, and 
 was considered as staunch and splendid a 
 vessel as was ever constructed ; her meas- 
 urement was three thousand five hundred 
 tons, and the whole cost nearly a million 
 dollars. Of the more than four hundred 
 souls who left Liverpool in this ill-fated 
 ship, full of hope, gayety, and health, only 
 
 about one-tenth escaped a watery grave. 
 Many of these, including a large number 
 of professional and business men of emi- 
 nence, were returning from an European 
 tour of pleasure. The accident happened 
 within forty miles east of Cape Race, the 
 eastern extremity of Newfoundland, in the 
 neighborhood of the Virgin Rocks. 
 
 After striking the Arctic, the Vesta 
 appeared to be sinking, but immediately 
 rose again; but no hope was entertained 
 of her ultimate safety, the passengers and 
 crew looking upon the Arctic as their only 
 chance of saving their lives. One man 
 was killed, and others severely wounded. 
 Two boats were put over the side, the first 
 of which was sunk ; the second was imme- 
 diately boarded by some of the crew and 
 passengers, who, heedless of the captain's 
 order to return, abandoned the vessel. 
 The fog continuing very thick, they lost 
 sight of the Arctic altogether, still hoping, 
 however, that she would not desert them. 
 Lightening the vessel in the fore part, her 
 bows were thereby considerably raised, 
 thus greatly stopping the rush of water; 
 and, by other means and contrivances, 
 they were enabled to run, under small 
 steam, for the nearest port, St. John's, 
 where she arrived September 30th. 
 
 For many days, as already remarked, 
 the terrible fate of the Arctic, and the 
 marv melancholy incidents connected with 
 it,, made a profoundly painful sensation in 
 business circles everywhere, indeed. The 
 sympathies of the community were espe- 
 cially with Mr. Collins, whose misfortune 
 was a double and overwhelming one the 
 loss of his beloved family and his noble 
 ship at the same time. The Collins line 
 of steamers did more to give character and 
 prestige to the mercantile marine of Amer- 
 ica than can readily be estimated ; and the 
 loss of the Arctic, therefore, was every- 
 where regarded as a national calamity. 
 
LIV. 
 
 ASSAULT ON THE HON. CHARLES SUMNER, BY HON. 
 PRESTON S. BROOKS. 1856. 
 
 Twenty Sudden and Terrible Blows, with a Solid Gutta Percha Cane, Dealt upon Mr. Simmer's Bare 
 Head. He Staggers and Falls, Senseless, Gashed, and Bleeding. Summer's Great Kansas Speech 
 for Free Soil and Free Labor Speech by Senator Butler, of South Carolina. Mr. Sumner's Scorch- 
 ing Reply. South Carolinians Offended. An Assault Determined On. Mr. Brooks their Champion. 
 Two Days' Watch for His Victim Finds Him Alone at His Desk. Approaches Unobserved. A 
 Quick and Deadly Blow. Mr. Sumner Instantly Stunned. His Ineffectual Defense. Brooks's 
 Accomplices at Hand. Their Advantage over Sumner. Storm of Public Indignation. Action Taken 
 by Congress. Reign of Terror at the Capital. Mr. Sumner's Three Years' Illness. Recovery, 
 Illustrious Career. Death of Brooks and His Allies. Time's Retributions. 
 
 In the name of the Constitution, whi 
 
 ich has been outraged of the Laws trampled down of Justice banished of Humanity degraded- 
 to the earth: and in the name of the Heavenly Father, whose service U perfect Freedom, 1 make 
 " " 
 
 , 
 
 it Peace destroyed of Freedom crushed t 
 LhkUit appeal. SI5AXOB SCUVEB'S SFXECU, "TUB CKIMK AOAIKST KAJSAS." 
 
 LIBERTY FOB KANSAS. 
 
 ISTORY records but one instance of a great 
 and honored statesman one of the foremost 
 men of the age, in fact, in his advocacy of 
 human rights being struck down by the 
 instruments of bloody violence, while in his 
 seat in the senate chamber of his country's 
 capitol, and there lying prostrate, bleeding, 
 and insensible, until removed by friendly 
 hands. 
 
 This barbarous deed transpired at Washing- 
 ton, on the twenty-second of May, 1856 ; and 
 it would be difficult to name any other event, 
 up to this period, which so shook the country 
 to its center culminating, too, in the brief 
 space of but five succeeding years, in that ter- 
 rible shock of arms, which changed the desti- 
 nies of the republic, and gave new life and the 
 national guaranty to human rights. 
 
 On the nineteenth of May, the Hon. Charles 
 Sumner, United States senator from Massa- 
 chusetts, began a speech in the senate, in favor 
 of admitting Kansas into the Union, under s 
 state constitution which she had adopted, pro- 
 hibiting slavery. The question had for a long 
 
438 
 
 ASSAULT ON SUMNEK, BY BROOKS. 
 
 time produced the most intense political 
 excitement all over the land, the south, as 
 the advocate of slave territory, and the 
 north, as the defender of free soil and free 
 labor, being bitterly arrayed against each 
 other. Mr. Sumner treated the subject 
 with his accustomed power of argument 
 and rhetoric, and at great length, his 
 speech occupying two days. A portion of 
 it was directed with remarkable vigor and 
 sarcasm, though entirely within parlia- 
 mentary bounds, to the arguments of the 
 Hon. A. P. Butler, senator from South 
 Carolina, delivered some days previously, 
 this part of Mr. Sumner's speech giving 
 great offense to the members of congress 
 from that state. 
 
 On the twenty-second, the senate ad- 
 journed at an early hour, in consequence 
 of the announcement of the death of Hon. 
 Mr. Miller of Missouri. After the ad- 
 journment, as is the custom of some sena- 
 tors, Mr. Sumner remained at his desk, 
 and was there writing unsuspectingly and 
 busily, when he was approached by Pres- 
 ton S. Brooks and L. M. Keitt, congress- 
 men from South Carolina, each with a 
 cane. Brooks was a nephew of Senator 
 Butler. Several persons had been about 
 Mr. Sumner's desk after the adjournment, 
 but just now he was alone. Senator Wil- 
 son had left him only a few moments 
 before, on his way out passing Brooks, 
 who was sitting in a back seat. Brooks 
 walked up in front of Mr. Sumner's seat, 
 and, saluting him, made the following 
 remarks : 
 
 " Mr. Sumner, I have read your speech 
 carefully, and with as much calmness as I 
 could be expected to read such a speech. 
 You have libeled my state, and slandered 
 my relative, who is aged and absent, and 
 I feel it to be my duty to punish you for 
 it." 
 
 Without waiting for any reply, or asking 
 for any explanation, Brooks instantly 
 struck Mr. Sumner a violent blow upon 
 the top of his bare head, while the latter 
 was still in a sitting posture, with a heavy 
 gutta percha cane. Brooks followed this 
 blow immediately with other blows, from 
 
 twelve to twenty in all, dealing them with 
 all the force which his herculean size and 
 great strength made him master of. 
 
 Mr. Sumner had no distinct conscious- 
 ness after the first blow. He involunta- 
 rily strove to rise from his seat, but being 
 confined by his writing position, he 
 wrenched his desk from its iron fasten- 
 ings, in attempting to extricate himself. 
 Stunned and blinded, however, from the 
 first, his efforts at self-defense were inef- 
 fectual, and, staggering under the fast- 
 repeated blows, he fell senseless to the 
 floor, gashed, bleeding, and powerless. 
 The cane used was a deadly weapon, being 
 as hard as hickory or whalebone ; it was 
 one inch in diameter at the larger end, 
 and tapered to the diameter of about five- 
 eighths of an inch at the smaller end, and 
 so violently did Brooks deal his blows 
 upon the defenseless senator's head, that 
 the deadly weapon was shattered into 
 many pieces by the time the assault ter- 
 minated. 
 
 Mr. Morgan and Mr. Murray, of the 
 New York delegation, were in the front 
 ante-chamber, and, hearing the noise, 
 went in. Mr. Murray seized hold of 
 Brooks, and Mr. Morgan went to the relief 
 of Mr. Sumner, whom he found prostrate 
 and nearly insensible. The persons pres- 
 ent in the senate were Mr. Sutton, one of 
 the reporters, the assistant sergeant-at- 
 arms, Mr. Simonton, Senators Crittenden, 
 Iverson, Bright, Toombs, Pearce, and a 
 few others. No one of the senators seemed 
 to offer to interfere but the venerable Mr. 
 Crittenden, who pronounced it an inexcus- 
 able outrage. Mr. Wilson rushed into the 
 senate-chamber on hearing of the attack, 
 but found Mr. Sumner Jiad been removed 
 to the vice-president's room, and that a 
 surgeon was in attendance. He then 
 helped to put his colleague into a carriage, 
 and went with him to his lodgings. The 
 senator's condition was deplorable. There 
 were frightful cuts on his head, and hi8 
 clothes were literally covered with blood. 
 Upon the papers and documents covering 
 his desk, as well as upon the adjoining 
 desks, blood was also freely spattered. 
 
ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 439 
 
 But for the interference of Messrs. Murray 
 and Morgan, Mr. Sunnier would have cer- 
 tainly been killed, under the remorseless 
 and unceasing blows of his assailant ; the 
 former seized Brooks around the waist, 
 while he was striking Suniner, and, with 
 Morgan's help, pulled him away. The 
 advantage which Brooks had over his 
 victim was complete ; stunning him with 
 the very first attack, he afterwards seized 
 him by the shoulder, held him with the 
 left hand, while, with the other, he kept 
 laying deadly blows upon his head. 
 
 It appears that as early as Tuesday, 
 before Mr. Sumner's speech was concluded, 
 Brooks took exception to the senator's 
 remarks ; and that on Wednesday morn- 
 ing, after the delivery of the speech, he 
 
 On Thursday morning, Brooks and Ed- 
 mundson were again together at the 
 western entrance of the capitol grounds, 
 on Pennsylvania avenue, a point which 
 commands a view of all the approaches to 
 the capitol from that portion of the city 
 in which Mr. Sumner resided. Here, 
 Brooks talked with Edmundson about his 
 being on the lookout for Mr. Sumner, and 
 his determination to resent the language 
 of the speech. They failed to see Mr. 
 Sumner, and went to the capitol together. 
 In addition to Edmundson, Mr. Keitt had 
 also been informed of Brooks's purpose to 
 make the assault indeed, was one of the 
 chief planners of the whole thing. Keitt 
 was near by, when Brooks commenced the 
 attack, and Edmundson took a position in 
 an ante-room adjoining ; and, as soon as 
 an attempt was made by the bystanders 
 to protect Mr. Sumner, Keitt rushed up 
 with a cane in a threatening manner, 
 Edmundson also entering the chamber 
 soon after Mr. Sumner fell. It thus ap- 
 peared that the murderous assault was 
 premeditated during a period of at least 
 two days, and that the only provocation 
 consisted in Mr. Sumner's response to 
 Mr. Butler's coarse aspersions uttered 
 some days before, Mr. Sumner's words 
 being lawfully spoken in debate in the 
 
 ^_j . senate chamber, not once being ruled out 
 
 // 7 /f ^/&/cs\^ ^ or ^ er k v the presiding officer, nor ob- 
 
 i 
 
 declared to Mr. Edmundson, a member of 
 congress from Virginia, by whom he was 
 met in the capitol grounds a short time 
 before the meeting of the two houses, that 
 he had determined to punish Mr. Sumner, 
 unless he made an ample apology for the 
 language he had uttered in his speech; 
 Brooks expressed a desire that he, Ed- 
 mundson, should be present and witness 
 the scene, and they thereupon took a seat 
 near the walk leading from Pennsylvania 
 avenue to the capitol, where they remained 
 some fifteen minutes, awaiting the ap- 
 proach of Mr. Sumner, but, as he did not 
 make his appearance, the two proceeded to 
 the capitol. 
 
 jected to by any senator as in any way 
 violative of the parliamentary rules estab- 
 lished for the government and order of that 
 body. 
 
 On the ensuing day, the outrage was 
 brought to the attention of the senate, by 
 Mr. Wilson, who said : " The seat of my 
 colleague is vacant to-day. For the first 
 time after five years of public service, that 
 seat is vacant. Yesterday, after the 
 touching tribute of respect to the memory 
 of Mr. Miller, of Missouri, a deceased 
 member of the house of representatives, 
 the senate adjourned. My colleague re- 
 mained in his seat, engaged in public 
 duties. While thus engaged, with pen in 
 hand, and in a position which rendered 
 him utterly incapable of protection, or 
 
440 
 
 ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 defending himself, Mr. Preston S. Brooks, 
 a member of the house from South Caro- 
 lina, approached him unobserved, and ab- 
 ruptly addressed him. Looking up, and 
 before he had time to utter a single word 
 in reply to him, he received a stunning 
 blow on the head from the cane in the 
 hands of Mr. Brooks, which made him 
 almost senseless and unconscious ; endeav- 
 oring, however, to protect himself, in 
 rising from his chair, his desk was over- 
 thrown; and while in that powerless con- 
 dition, he was beaten upon the head and 
 shoulders by repeated blows from Mr. 
 Brooks, until he sank upon the floor of the 
 senate, unconscious, exhausted, and covered 
 with his own blood. He was raised from 
 the floor by a few friends, taken into an 
 ante-room, and his wounds dressed. From 
 thence he was carried to his house, and 
 placed upon his bed. He is thus unable 
 to be with us to day, to perform the duties 
 which belong to him as a member of this 
 body. To hold a member of the senate 
 responsible out of this chamber for words 
 spoken in debate is a grave offense, not 
 only against the rights of a member, but 
 against the constitutional privileges of this 
 body; but, sir, to come into this chamber, 
 and assault a member in his seat, until he 
 falls exhausted upon this floor, is an 
 offense requiring the prompt action of this 
 body. Sir, I submit no motion, I leave 
 it to older senators, whose character and 
 position in the senate, and before the 
 country, eminently fit them to take the 
 lead in a measure to redress the wrongs of 
 members of this body, and vindicate the 
 honor and dignity of the senate." A com- 
 mittee of investigation was appointed. 
 
 In the house of representatives, also, the 
 outrage was the subject of legislative 
 action, after an exciting debate, in which 
 Mr. Burlingame of Massachusetts, thus 
 gave expression, in the course of a manly 
 and truthful speech, to the sentiments of 
 every noble-minded citizen in the land: 
 " On the 22d day of May, when the senate 
 and the house had clothed themselves in 
 mourning for a brother fallen in the battle 
 of life in the distant state of Missouri, the 
 
 senator from Massachusetts sat, in the 
 silence of the senate chamber, engaged JD 
 employments appertaining to Ms office, 
 when a member from this house, who had 
 taken an oath to sustain the constitution, 
 stole into the senate that place which had 
 hitherto been held sacred against violence 
 and smote him as Cain smote his 
 
 brother One blow was enough ; 
 
 but it did not satiate the wrath of that 
 spirit which had pursued him through two 
 days. Again, and again, and again, 
 quicker and faster, fell the leaden blows, 
 until he was torn away from his victim, 
 when the senator from Massachusetts fell 
 into the arms of his friends, and his blood 
 ran down the senate floor. Sir, the act 
 was brief, and my comments on it shall be 
 brief also. I denounce it in the name of 
 the sovereignty of Massachusetts, which 
 was stricken down by the blow ; I de- 
 nounce it in the name of humanity; I 
 denounce it in the name of civilization, 
 which it outraged ! I denounce it in the 
 name of that fair play which bullies and 
 prize-fighters respect. What ! strike a 
 man when he is pinioned when he cannot 
 respond to a blow! Call you that chiv- 
 alry ? In what code of honor did yon get 
 your authority for that ! " Similar legis- 
 lative action to that of the senate was 
 adopted, on motion of Mr. Campbell, for 
 inquiring into the circumstances of so 
 brutal, murderous, and cowardly an as- 
 sault. 
 
 Being waited on, some days after the 
 assault, by the committee of investigation, 
 Mr. Sumner, who was confined in great 
 suffering to his bed, gave the following 
 testimony : " I attended the senate as 
 usual, on Thursday, the 22d of May. 
 After some formal business, a message was 
 received from the house of representatives, 
 announcing the death of a member of that 
 body from Missouri. This was followed 
 by a brief tribute to the deceased from 
 Mr. Geyer, of Missouri, when, according 
 to usage and out of respect to the deceased, 
 the senate adjourned at once. Instead of 
 leaving the senate-chamber with the resV 
 of the senators, on the adjournment, I con- 
 
ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 441 
 
 tinued in my seat, occupied with my pen, 
 and while thus intent, in order to he in 
 season for the mail, which was soon to 
 close, I was approached hy several persons, 
 who desired to converse with me, but I 
 answered them promptly and briefly, ex- 
 cusing myself for the reason that I was 
 engaged. When the last of these persons 
 left me, I drew my arm-chair close to my 
 desk, and, with my legs under the desk, 
 continued writing. My attention at this 
 time was so entirely drawn from other 
 subjects that, though there must have 
 been many persons in the senate, I saw 
 nobody. While thus intent, with my 
 head bent over my writing, I was ad- 
 dressed by a person who approached 
 
 the front of my desk : I was so entirely 
 absorbed, that I was not aware of his 
 presence until I heard my name pro- 
 nounced. As I looked up, with pen in 
 hand, I saw a tall man, whose countenance 
 was not familiar, standing directly over 
 me, and at the same moment caught these 
 words : ' I have read your speech twice 
 over, carefully ; it is a libel oa South Car- 
 olina, and Mr. Butler, who is a relative of 
 mine.' While these words were still pass- 
 ing from his lips, he commenced a succes- 
 sion of. blows with a heavy cane on my 
 bare head, by the first of which I was 
 stunned so as to lose my sight. I saw no 
 longer my assailant, nor any other person 
 or object in the room. What I did after- 
 
 wards was done almost unconsciously, 
 acting under the instincts of self-defense. 
 With head already bent down, I rose from 
 my seat wrenching up my desk, which 
 was screwed to the floor and then press- 
 ing forward, while my assailant continued 
 his blows. I had no other consciousness 
 until I found myself ten feet forward in 
 front of my desk, lying on the floor of the 
 senate, with my bleeding head supported 
 on the knee of a gentleman whom I soon 
 recognized, by voice and manner, as Mr, 
 Morgan, of New York. Other persons 
 there were about me, offering me friendly 
 assistance, but I did not recognize any of 
 them. Others there were at a distance, 
 looking on and offering no assistance, of 
 whom I recognized only Mr. Douglas, of 
 Illinois, Mr. Toombs, of Georgia, and I 
 thought also my assailant standing be- 
 tween them. I was helped from the floor, 
 and conducted into the lobby of the senate, 
 where I was placed upon a sofa. Of those 
 who helped me here I have no recollection. 
 As I entered the lobby, I recognized Mr. 
 Slidell, of Louisiana, who retreated, but I 
 recognized no one else until I felt a 
 friendly grasp of the hand, which seemed 
 to come from Mr. Campbell, of Ohio. I 
 have a vague impression that Mr. Bright, 
 president of the senate, spoke to me while 
 I was on the floor of the lobby. I make 
 this statement in answer to the interroga- 
 tory of the committee, and offer it as pre- 
 senting completely all my recollections of 
 the assault and of the attending circum- 
 stances, whether immediately before or 
 immediately after. I desire to add, that 
 besides the words which I have given as 
 uttered by my assailant, I have an indis- 
 tinct recollection of the words ' old man ; ' 
 but these are so enveloped in the mist that 
 ensued from the first blow, that I am not 
 sure whether they were uttered or not." 
 On the cross-examination, Mr. Sumner 
 stated that he was entirely without arms 
 of any kind, and that he had no notice or 
 warning of any kind, direct or indirect, of 
 any such assault. In answer, also, to a 
 cross-question, Mr. Sumner replied that 
 what he had said of Senator Butler, of 
 
442 
 
 ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BEOOKS. 
 
 South Carolina, was strictly responsive to 
 Mr. Butler's speeches, and according to 
 the usages of parliamentary debate. 
 
 The dastardly blow which stunned Sen- 
 ator Sunnier, also stunned, for the moment, 
 the great north and west, from Maine to 
 Nebraska but only to arouse them, as 
 they had never been aroused before, to a 
 realization of the true character of the 
 conflict which was being waged from one 
 end of the land to the other, and to make 
 them more determined than ever, in be- 
 half of free soil, free labor, and free 
 speech. Indignation meetings, composed 
 of the solid worth and intelligence of the 
 population throughout the free states, were 
 immediately held, to protest against so 
 cowardly and murderous an attempt to sup- 
 press the freedom of debate. In every city 
 and town, the masses poured forth, to dem- 
 onstrate their reprobation of so brutal and 
 atrocious a wrong, and to express sympa- 
 thy for Senator Sumner, in view of the 
 anguish and peril of his condition. In 
 Massachusetts, in especial, the outrage 
 upon their great and honored senator pro- 
 duced such an outburst of universal indig- 
 nation as was never known before. And in 
 addition to this, the riches of the wealthy 
 were freely proffered him, to defray the 
 expenses incident to his disability ; and, 
 in Boston, a memorial token in appro- 
 bation of the great speech for which he 
 was stricken down, was only prevented 
 from being consummated, by the senator's 
 earnest request. This memorial was to have 
 been a massive and elaborate silver vase, two 
 feet in height, and of grand proportions. 
 According to the design, there was to be, 
 upon the summit of the vase, a figure rep- 
 resenting Mr. Sumuer holding his Kansas 
 speech in his right hand ; on either side 
 were the figures of Justice and Freedom, 
 crowning him with a wreath of laurel ; a 
 winged genius sat at his feet?, inscribing 
 his name on a tablet. Figures represent- 
 ing Victory were upon the arms of the 
 vase, heralding the triumph of Freedom. 
 Above the inscription to Mr. Sumner, and 
 in the center, was the coat of arms of 
 Massachusetts. On the foot of the vase 
 
 was the coat-of-arms of the nation, between 
 masks and appropriate emblems of Liberty 
 and Slavery. By Mr. Sumner's special 
 desire, the large amount contributed for 
 this purpose was devoted to the interests 
 of freedom in Kansas. 
 
 But no less was the brutal conduct of 
 Brooks applauded throughout the south, 
 than was the character of Mr. Sumner 
 eulogized, and his condition compassion- 
 ated, at the north. Almost without excep- 
 tion, the newspapers in the interests of 
 slavery exulted over the outrage, and 
 urged similar treatment of Wade, Seward, 
 Wilson, Giddings, Hale, and others. Let- 
 ters of admiration for his exploit poured 
 in upon Brooks, day after day, and he was 
 soon in possession of a dozen choice and 
 costly canes, the gifts of friends in South 
 Carolina and elsewhere, in place of the 
 gutta percha weapon which was broken to 
 pieces in the blows dealt upon the head of 
 Senator Sumner. These presentation 
 canes were all elegantly mounted with 
 silver or gold, and bore commemorative 
 inscriptions ; they were also very solid and 
 and heavy, one blow from either of them, 
 in the hands of so powerful an assailant as 
 Brooks, would finish a man of ordinary 
 thickness of skull. The one which he 
 most prized, was of massive live oak, silver- 
 looped, and inscribed with a grateful trib- 
 ute from the northern shipmasters doing 
 business in Charleston, S. C. 
 
 In due time, the committee of investiga- 
 tion appointed by the senate made a report, 
 but the only action taken by that body 
 was to transmit a message to the house, 
 complaining that Mr. Brooks, one of its 
 members, had made a violent assault upon 
 Senator Sumner, but that, as Mr. Brooks 
 was a member of the house of representa- 
 tives, the latter alone had the power to 
 arrest, try, and punish him. In the debate 
 in the senate, on the committee's report, 
 there was much excitement. Notwith- 
 standing it was known to all, that Mr. 
 Sumner was confined to his bed, in intense 
 suffering, Senator Butler, of South Caro- 
 lina, said, among other things, that, " had 
 he been in Washington, he should have 
 
ASSAULT ON SUMMER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 443 
 
 assumed all the responsibility taken by his 
 gallant relative. Mr. Brooks assaulted 
 Mr. Sumner with no other purpose than 
 to disgrace him. Mr. Brooks was one of 
 the best tempered lellows, though impetu- 
 ous, no doubt, and quick at resentment. 
 Mr. Sumner received two flesh wounds, 
 and, being rather handsome, did not just 
 now expose himself. If he had been in 
 the army, and had not gone out the next 
 day after the fracas, he would have de- 
 served to be cashiered. On some accounts 
 it was fortunate he (Butler) was not here 
 
 ous, Mr. Butler exclaimed from his seat, 
 " You are a liar." 
 
 Brooks immediately challenged Mr. Wil- 
 son to mortal combat, for having thus 
 characterized the assault, which challenge 
 Mr. Wilson declined to accept, on the 
 ground that "dueling is a relic of bar- 
 barous civilization, which the law of 
 the country has branded as crime," and 
 preferring to throw himself on " the 
 right of self-defense, in its broadest 
 sense." Mr. Burlingame was also chal- 
 lenged by Brooks, and the latter imme- 
 
 ASSATTLT ON SENATOR 8PMXER, BY P. 8. BROOKS. 
 
 at the time, for he did not know what he 
 might have done. To be sure, it was 
 thirty or forty years since he had been 
 engaged in a personal conflict, and his 
 hand was out of practice, but he did not 
 know but he might have had a trial at 
 him. One thing he had no doubt of, 
 namely, if he (Butler) were a young man, 
 he would have left him (Sumner) in a 
 worse condition than he is noiv." In re- 
 sponse to Senator Wilson's denunciation 
 of the act as brutal, cowardly, and murder- 
 
 diately agreed to meet him, but other 
 parties interposing, hostile proceedings 
 were stopped. Both northern and south, 
 ern senators went armed constantly, and 
 there was a "reign of terror" in the 
 capital of the nation. Being complained 
 of, in one of the criminal courts of the 
 city for assault and battery, in his attack 
 on Mr. Sumner, Brooks appeared before 
 the judge, made an elaborate speech in 
 vindication of his course, waived a trial, 
 asked for judgment, and, on the judge 
 
444 
 
 ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 imposing a fine of three hundred dollars, 
 paid it on the spot. 
 
 The committee of investigation ap- 
 pointed by the house of representatives 
 reported resolutions of expulsion against 
 Brooks, and censure against Keitt and 
 Edmundson. The resolution to expel 
 Brooks received, after a violent debate, one 
 hundred and twenty-one votes, and there 
 were ninety-five votes in the negative ; a 
 two-thirds vote being required to expel a 
 member, the resolution failed. The reso- 
 lution of censure passed. Mr. Hoffman, 
 of Maryland, was the only southern mem- 
 ber who voted to expel Brooks. 
 
 Brooks, however, stung by the rebuke 
 conveyed by the vote of a majority of the 
 house, made a speech of coarse defiance, in 
 which he said, " If I desired to kill the 
 senator from Massachusetts, why did I not 
 do it ? You all admit that I had it in my 
 power. Let me tell you, that, expressly to 
 prevent taking life, I used an ordinary 
 cane presented by a friend in Baltimore. 
 I went to the senate deliberately. I hesi- 
 tated whether I should use a horsewhip or 
 a cowhide, but knowing that the strength 
 of the senator from .Massachusetts was 
 superior to mine, I thought he might wrest 
 it from me. If he had, I might have done 
 what I should have regretted for the re- 
 mainder of my life. (A voice : He would 
 have killed him /) Ten days ago, foresee- 
 ing what the action of the house would be, 
 my resignation was put into the hands of 
 the governor of South Carolina. And 
 now, Mr. Speaker, I announce to you and to 
 the house, I am no longer a member of the 
 thirty-fourth congress." Senators Butler 
 and Mason sat near Brooks during the 
 delivery of his speech of the tone of 
 which the preceding brief sentences afford 
 some idea, and were quite merry over it. 
 Mr. Brooks retired amid the applause of 
 the south gallery, which was filled with 
 ladies and gentlemen, and, upon reaching 
 the lobby, was embraced and showered 
 with kisses by the ladies. 
 
 Returning home to South Carolina, 
 Brooks was feted and feasted, and made 
 the recipient of every possible mark of 
 
 honor and admiring gratitude. An elec- 
 tion was soon held to fill the vacancy 
 caused by his resignation, and he was 
 elected by a unanimous vote. Once more, 
 
 PRESTON S. BROOKS. 
 
 namely, on the eighth of January, 1857, 
 he made a characteristic speech on the 
 floor of congress, against the prohibition 
 of slavery in Nebraska. But his career 
 was suddenly terminated, on the twenty- 
 seventh of the same month. His sickness 
 was brief inflammation of the throat 
 and he expired in terrible pain. In the 
 intensity of his sufferings from strangula- 
 tion, he endeavored to tear open his throat, 
 that he might get breath. He was but 
 thirty-eight years old, and left a wife and 
 four children. His frame was pronounced, 
 by the undertaker, the largest for which 
 he had ever been called upon to furnish a 
 coffin. 
 
 Only four months after the decease of 
 Brooks, Senator Butler died at Edgefield 
 court-house, S. C., in the sixty-first year 
 of his age. Keitt met his death during 
 the war of the rebellion, he being at the 
 time an officer in the confederate army. 
 
 From the very first, Mr. Sumner's con- 
 dition was critical in the extreme, so much 
 so, that his physicians considered the 
 chances to be against his recovery, and 
 visitors were peremptorily forbidden to see 
 him. His head and the glands of the 
 neck became swollen, the cuts soon ulcer- 
 ated, and there was a constant torturing 
 pain in the head. An appearance of ery- 
 sipelas presented itself, a form of inflam- 
 mation greatly to be dreaded. As soon as 
 he could be removed with safety, he was 
 
ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BROOKS. 
 
 445 
 
 carried into the country, remaining for 
 some time under the hospitable roof of 
 Hon. F. P. Blair ; at Silver Spring. In 
 the spring of 1857, he went to Europe by 
 the advice of his physicians, and there 
 passed some months, returning in the 
 autumn, with a view to engaging in his 
 public duties. 
 
 Undervaluing, however, the seriousness 
 of his condition, Mr. Sumner's anticipa- 
 tions of active usefulness were not to be 
 go speedily realized. At the time of the 
 assault upon him, he failed to comprehend 
 the full extent and peculiar nature of the 
 injury received, and continued to cherish, 
 from the outset, the constant hope of an 
 early restoration to sound health. But 
 the spring of 1858 found him still in such 
 impaired health, as to necessitate another 
 visit to Europe, principally with a view to 
 the curative influences of travel, exercise 
 in the open air, and absence from political 
 excitement. At Paris, he met Dr. George 
 Hayward, the eminent Boston surgeon, 
 who at once urged 'active treatment' 
 that is, the application of a system of 
 counter-irritants, in order to reach the 
 malady in the cerebral system and in the 
 spine. With the sanction of Doctor Hay- 
 ward, Mr. Sumner then put himself in the 
 hands of Doctor Brown-Sequard, the cele- 
 brated physiologist, so well known, on 
 both sides of the Atlantic, for his suc- 
 cess in diseases of the spine and nervous 
 system. 
 
 A careful and acute investigation of Mr. 
 Sumner's case, by this eminent surgeon, 
 resulted in ascertaining that, though the 
 brain itself was free from any serious 
 remaining injury, the effects of the origi- 
 nal commotion there were still manifest in 
 an effusion of liquid about the brain and 
 in a slight degree of congestion, chiefly 
 confined to the membrane around the 
 brain ; it was also found that the spine 
 was suffering in two places from the effect 
 of what is called contre-cowp. Mr. Sumner 
 being seated and inclined over his desk at 
 the time of the assault, the blows on his 
 head took effect by counter-stroke, or com- 
 municated shock in the spine. Doctor 
 
 Brown-Sequard agreed with Doctor Hay- 
 ward, as to the necessity of an active treat- 
 ment, doubting very much whether any de- 
 gree of care or lapse of time, unless the mor- 
 bid condition of the system were directly 
 acted upon, would not always leave the pa- 
 tient exposed to a relapse. He proceeded, 
 therefore, at once, to apply fire to the back 
 of the neck and along the spine. " I have 
 applied " writes M. Sequard to a friend, 
 at this time "six moxas to Senator 
 Sumner's neck and back, and he has borne 
 these exceedingly painful applications with 
 the greatest courage and patience. You 
 know that a 'moxa' is a burning of the 
 skin with inflamed agaric (amadou?) cot- 
 ton wool, or some other very combustible 
 substance. I had never seen a man bear- 
 ing with such a fortitude as Mr. Sumner 
 has shown, the extremely violent pain of 
 this kind of burning." The recovery, by 
 Mr. Sumner, of his general health, from 
 the original shock, was due to what his 
 English and French physicians called the 
 wonderful recuperative energies of his 
 constitution and to a remarkable power of 
 resistance to injury. It was this, too, in 
 alliance with his untouched vigor of will, 
 that enabled Mr. Sumner to bear the moxa 
 without the chloroform which Doctor Se- 
 quard recommended, and without the 
 shrinking which the doctor expected. 
 
 This severe medical treatment was suc- 
 ceeded by that of baths and other reme- 
 dial resorts. In a letter written by Mr. 
 Sumner, in September, 1858, he says: 
 " My life is devoted to my health. I wish 
 that I could say that I am not still an 
 invalid ; but, except when attacked by the 
 pain in my chest, I am now comfortable, 
 and enjoy my baths, my walks, and the 
 repose and incognito which I find here. I 
 begin the day with douches, hot and cold, 
 and when thoroughly exhausted, am 
 wrapped in sheet and blanket, and con- 
 veyed to my hotel and laid on my bed. 
 After my walk, I find myself obliged again 
 to take to my bed, for two hours before 
 dinner. But this whole treatment is in 
 pleasant contrast with the protracted suf- 
 ferings from fire which made my summer 
 
446 
 
 ASSAULT ON SUMNER, BY BEOOKS. 
 
 a torment. And yet I fear that I must 
 return again to that treatment. It is with 
 a pang unspeakable that I find myself thus 
 arrested in the labors of life and in the 
 duties of my position." It was not until 
 the autumn of 1859, that Mr. Sumner was 
 sufficiently restored in health, to justify 
 him in returning home and resuming his 
 seat in the senate. 
 
 Though originally elected to the United 
 States senate by a majority of only one 
 vote, in a legislature composed of several" 
 hundred members, and not even then 
 
 until after many and wearisome ba'lotings, 
 running through several weeks, L-e was 
 almost unanimously re-elected in 1857 ; 
 again, in 1863, with but few dissentient 
 votes; and again, in 1869, with similar 
 unanimity; making a period of twenty- 
 four consecutive years, and by which he 
 became " the Father of the Senate," in 
 point of protracted official service. He 
 died, in office, in 1874. The fame of his 
 career, as statesman, orator, and philan- 
 thropist, may be said to be world-wide. 
 Such are time's impressive changes. 
 
LV. 
 
 TERRIBLE CRISIS IN THE BUSINESS AND FINANCIAL 
 
 WORLD. 1857. 
 
 Known as " the Great Panic." A Sudden, Universal Crash in the Height of Prosperity. Caused by 
 Wild Speculations and Enormous Debt. Suspension of Banks all Over the Country. Failure of the 
 Oldest and Wealthiest Houses Fortunes Swept Away in a Day. Prostration of Every Branch of 
 Industry. Prolonged Embarrassment, Distrust, and Suffering The Panic of 1837 a Comparison 
 Extravagance and High Prices. Chimerical Railroad Schemes. Mania for Land Investments 
 Reckless Stock Gambling. Western Paper Cities Fabulous Prices for " Lots." Money Absorbed 
 in this Way. Bursting of the Bubble. The First Great Blow. A Bomb in Money Circles. Wide- 
 spread Shock and Terror. Fierce Crowds at the Banks. A Run Upon Them for Specie. They 
 " Go to the Wall." Savings Bank Excitement. Kare Doings at the Counters. Wit, Mirth, Despair, 
 and Kuin. Forty Thousand Persons in Wall Street. Factories, Foundries, etc., Stopped. Business 
 Credit Destroyed. Root of the Whole Difficulty. 
 
 Th matt eitraordinary, violent, and destructive panic ever experienced in thlf country." GlBBOIts'8 HISTOHT or BAKES AID 
 BANKING. 
 
 BON ON A BANK. 
 
 I ANY persons will recall, even at this 
 remote lapse of time, the terrible com- 
 mercial and business revulsion which 
 preceded, by just a score of years, that more general and calamitous one of 1857, the 
 latter being universally known to this day as " the Great Panic." During the firsts 
 named, every bank in the Union failed and suspended specie payment, with a compar- 
 atively few exceptions. Extravagance pervaded all classes of society, and so general 
 and feverish was the excitement in western lands' speculation, that men grasped at 
 ' lots ' in that boundless and then almost untracked region, as if the supply was about 
 to be exhausted. Indeed, the picture is but slightly if at all overdrawn, which repre- 
 sents the land mania of that period as swallowing up, in its mad whirl, all classes. 
 The " man of one idea " was visible everywhere ; no man had two. He who had no 
 money begged, borrowed, or stole it ; he who had, thought he made a generous sacri- 
 fice, if he lent it cent per cent. The tradesman forsook his shop ; the farmer his 
 
448 
 
 THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 plough ; the merchant his counter ; the 
 lawyer his office ; the clergyman his study 
 to join the general cbase. The man 
 with one leg, or he that had none, could 
 at least get on board a steamer, and make 
 for Chicago or Milwaukee; the strong, the 
 able, but above all, the "enterprising," 
 set out with his pocket map and his pocket 
 compass, to thread the dim woods, and see 
 with his own eyes, for who could be so 
 demented as to waste time in planting, in 
 building, in hammering iron, in making 
 shoes, when the path of wealth lay wide 
 and flowery before him ! A ditcher, hired 
 by the job to do a certain piece of work in 
 his line, was asked 
 
 " Well, John, did you make anything ? " 
 
 "Pretty well; I cleared about ten dol- 
 lars a day, but I could have made more by 
 standin' round" that is, watching the 
 land market, for bargains. 
 
 The host of travelers on their western 
 speculating tours met with many difficul- 
 ties, as might be supposed. Such search- 
 ing among trees for town lines ! such 
 ransacking of the woods for section cor- 
 ners, ranges, and base lines! such anxious 
 care in identifying spots possessing " par- 
 ticular advantages!" And then, alas! 
 after all, such precious blunders, blun- 
 ders which called into action another class 
 of operators, who became popularly known 
 as " land lookers." These were plentiful 
 at every turn, ready to furnish " water- 
 power," "pine lots," or anything else, at 
 a moment's notice. It was impossible to 
 mention any part of the country which 
 they had not "personally surveyed." 
 They would state, with the gravity of 
 astrologers, what sort of timber predomi- 
 nated ou any given tract, drawing sage 
 deductions as to the capabilities of the 
 soil ! Did the purchaser incline to city 
 property ? Lo ! a splendid chart, setting 
 forth the advantages of some unequaled 
 site. 
 
 But at last this bubble burst thousands 
 of fortunes vanished into thin air the 
 crisis and the panic came like a whirl- 
 wind. 
 
 Similar was the state of things preced- 
 
 ing the awful crash in 1857. The times 
 were characterized by excessive debts and 
 almost incredible extravagance and specu- 
 lations. The cities, and many parts of the 
 country, were drained of means for legiti- 
 mate purposes, being devoted, instead, to 
 the construction of unproductive railroads, 
 or absorbed in western land speculations. 
 The new territories, and some parts of th 
 western states, were almost covered with 
 paper cities, selling to the credulous at 
 almost fabulous prices. In Kansas alone, 
 where scarcely one legal title had as yet 
 been granted, there were more acres laid 
 out for cities, than were covered by all the 
 cities in the northern and middle states. 
 Nearly the whole west swarmed with spec- 
 ulators, who neither intended to cultivate 
 the soil nor settle there, but who expected 
 to realize fortunes, without labor, out of 
 the bona fide settler. Lots in "cities," 
 where was scarcely a house, were sold to 
 the inexperienced and the unwarj', at 
 prices equaling those in the large cities. 
 These operations, with others of a similarly 
 chimerical character, made money scarce 
 everywhere, and diverted thousands of 
 men, and much of the capital of the coun- 
 try, from the business of producing, 
 tending, of course, to extravagant prices 
 of food. 
 
 But the omens of disaster began to cast 
 their spectral shadows athwart the finan- 
 cial sky, the first manifestation being a 
 regular decline in the value of leading 
 railroad stocks, especially the western 
 roads. But the first great blow to public 
 confidence was given by the unexpected 
 failure, in August, of the Ohio Life Insur- 
 ance and Trust Company. The magni- 
 tude and importance of the operations of 
 this institution throughout the country, 
 amounting to millions of dollars, and in- 
 volving so many individuals and corporar 
 tions, rendered its suspension a fearful 
 disaster. The announcement fell like a 
 bomb in the money circles, and, by the 
 first or second week of September, banks 
 and business houses began to stop pay- 
 ment, and a panic ensued, which became 
 almost universal during the month. Th 
 
THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 best mercantile paper was at a discount of 
 from three to five per cent, a month. 
 Toward the close of the month three of 
 the leading banks of Philadelphia failed, 
 and the remainder resolved upon a tempo- 
 rary suspension of specie payments. This 
 was followed by a similar step on the part 
 of most of the banks of Pennsylvania, 
 Maryland, the District of Columbia, and 
 New Jersey. 
 
 No such intense excitement had ever 
 before prevailed in Philadelphia, as that 
 which reigned when the bank of Pennsyl- 
 
 being nearly two million dollars. Very 
 early on the same day, the Girard and 
 Commercial banks ceased paying their de- 
 posits, but continued to pay their bills. 
 Checks were marked good and returned to 
 the holders. After three o'clock, the city 
 was full of all sorts of rumors, and, at a 
 meeting of the bank presidents, a universal 
 suspension was agreed upon. These tid- 
 ings became rapidly known throughout the 
 towns and villages of the state, and the 
 next morning a vast number of anxious 
 people flocked into the city by steam-boat 
 
 EXCITEMENT IN BUSINESS CIRCLES DURING THE CHEAT PANIC. 
 
 vania closed its doors. Crowds of people 
 poured into Third street from the distant 
 extremities of the city, and the street 
 became a perfect jam, everybody who had 
 any money in those banks which had not 
 yet stopped specie payment, being in haste 
 to obtain their dues. Prom this vast mass 
 of people there radiated lines reaching to 
 the counters of all the banks, demanding 
 coin for bills and deposits ; and all the 
 various applicants, as they presented them- 
 selves, received their money, and retired 
 in good order. This scene continued until 
 the hour of closing, the amount of coin 
 
 thus paid out, from eleven, to three o'clock, 
 29 
 
 and railroad. As if unwilling to believe 
 the unwelcome news, they gathered in 
 crowds opposite the various banks, pa- 
 tiently awaiting the hour for openinrr. 
 All appeared bent on getting coin for tht-Ir 
 checks and bills. At ten o'clock the doors 
 opened, police officers being everywhere 
 about, to preserve order. Each customer 
 went up in turn, presented his check, and 
 had it marked good; while such as held 
 bills were told that the redemption of them 
 in specie was temporarily suspended. 
 
 And now, all over the land, east, west, 
 north, and south, the dark days of fear, 
 alarm, and ruin, settled down upon the 
 
45C 
 
 THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 people, and panic raged like a pestilence. 
 Indeed, tiie extent of the crash far ex- 
 ceeded what it would have been, but for 
 the shock and terror which so needlessly 
 possessed men's minds at the instant, and 
 unbalanced their judgment. Universal 
 distrust prevailed a loss of that mutual 
 confidence between man and man, without 
 which, the foundations of mercantile credit 
 are washed away as so much sand, but 
 with which, temporary difficulties, even 
 though stringent, may be surmounted, and 
 total ruin to individuals and the public 
 prevented. No more fitting illustration of 
 the working of this principle of confidence 
 could be cited, in sustaining or overturn- 
 ing the steadiness of business affairs, than 
 the anecdote of the little Frenchman who 
 loaned a merchant five thousand dollars, 
 when times were good, but who called at 
 the counting-house on the times becoming 
 " hard," in a state of agitation only faintly 
 portrayed in the following hasty colloquy 
 which ensued : 
 
 "How do you do?" inquired the mer- 
 chant, as the French creditor presented 
 himself at the counter. 
 
 " Sick ver sick," replied monsieur/ 
 
 " What is the matter ? " 
 
 " De times is de matter." 
 
 " De times ? what disease is that ? " 
 
 " De malaide vat break all de marchants, 
 ver much." 
 
 "Ah the times, eh? Well, they are 
 bad, very bad, sure enough ; but how do 
 they affect you ? " 
 
 "Vy, monsieur, I lose de confidence." 
 
 "In whom?" 
 
 "In everybody." 
 
 "Not in me, I hope?" 
 
 "Pardonnez moi, monsieur; but I do 
 not know who to trust a present, when all 
 de marchants break several times, all to 
 pieces." 
 
 "Then I presume you want your 
 money." 
 
 "Oui, monsieur, I starve for want of 
 P argent" (the silver). 
 
 "Can't you do without it ?" 
 
 "No, monsieur, I must have him." 
 
 "You must?" 
 
 "Oui, monsieur," said little dimity 
 breeches, turning pale with apprehension 
 for the safety of his money. 
 
 " And you can't do without it ? " 
 
 "No, monsieur, not von other leetle 
 moment longare." 
 
 The merchant reached his bank book, 
 drew a check on the good old ' Continen- 
 tal ' for the amount, and handed it to his 
 visitor. 
 
 " Vat is dis, monsieur ? " 
 
 " A check for five thousand dollars, with 
 the interest." 
 
 " Is it Ion ? " (good,) said the French- 
 man, with amazement. 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 " Have you I' 'argent in de bank ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And is it parfaitement convenient to 
 pay de same ? " 
 
 " Undoubtedly ! What astonishes you ? " 
 
 "Vy, dat you have got him in dees 
 times." 
 
 "Oh, yes, and I have plenty more. I 
 owe nothing that I cannot pay at a mo- 
 ment's notice." 
 
 The Frenchman was perplexed. 
 
 "Monsieur, you shall do me von leetle 
 favor, eh ? " 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 "Well, monsieur, you shall keep V ar- 
 gent for me some leetle year longare." 
 
 "Why, I thought you wanted it!" 
 
 " Tnnt au coutraire. I no vant de 
 argent. I vant de grand confidence. 
 Suppose you no got de money, den I vant 
 him ver much suppose you got him, den 
 I no vant him at all. Vous comprenez, 
 eh ? " 
 
 After some further conference, the little 
 chatterer prevailed upon the merchant to 
 retain the money, and left the counting- 
 house with a light heart, and a counte- 
 nance very different from the one he wore 
 when he entered. His confidence was 
 restored he did not stand in need of the 
 money. 
 
 The banks of New York and New 
 England remained firm, far into the month 
 of October, but so rapid and numberless 
 were the failures, each succeeding day, of 
 
THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 451 
 
 railroad and other corporations, and busi- 
 ness houses which had some of them 
 breasted all the financial storms of the last 
 half century, that these were finally obliged 
 to succumb to the avalanche of pressure, 
 and fell into the vortex of universal sus- 
 pension. Tuesday, the thirteenth of Octo- 
 ber, the day preceding the suspension, was 
 the climax of the struggle, and "Wall 
 street, New York, as the great center of 
 money operations in the United States, 
 presented a scene of wild excitement never 
 before witnessed. 
 
 The account of that scene, as given by 
 the reporter for the Tribune, is here in 
 part reproduced. At ten o'clock in the 
 
 was hurriedly dashed off at its foot, and in 
 another moment it was on its way to the 
 bank. 
 
 The crowd increased in numbers. Each 
 person took his place in the line and 
 awaited his turn, while policemen kept 
 those out who were present only from 
 motives of curiosity. One after another 
 was paid, and with the shining treasure 
 departed. Scores of hands, skilled by long 
 experience in counting coin, were taxed to 
 their utmost in their efforts to keep pace 
 with the demand for gold. Altogether, 
 the scene presented was one of the wildest 
 excitement. Thirty to forty thousand 
 persons were at the same moment in the 
 
 EFFECTS OF THE HABD TIMES. 
 
 morning, says that journal, the fronts of 
 the different institutions indicated, by the 
 crowds gathered around them, that the 
 ability of the vaults to yield up their treas- 
 ure at the call of depositors and bill-hold- 
 ers was to undergo no ordinary test. 
 Check after check was presented and paid, 
 and still they came. "Word soon, went 
 forth that a run had commenced on the 
 banks, and it passed from one house to 
 another until the whole lower part of the 
 city was alive with excitement. Bank 
 books were examined; but a moment was 
 required to prepare a check a signature 
 
 street some rushing onward in the hope 
 to secure their deposits before the hour of 
 closing should arrive, and others clustered 
 together, discussing the condition of af- 
 fairs. One after another of the announce- 
 ments made, of banks failing under the 
 continued drain upon them, fell with dis- 
 may among the crowd, and confident pre- 
 dictions were uttered that ten o'clock of 
 Wednesday would tell the story of the 
 suspension of all. But not a few there 
 were, whose belief in the ability of the 
 moneyed institutions was still unshaken, 
 and they asserted, with earnestness that 
 
452 
 
 THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 every demand in checks and bills would 
 be met to the last, and Panic be laughed 
 to scorn. 
 
 But, with all the anxiety and resolute- 
 ness depicted upon so many countenances, 
 there were those who laughed and cracked 
 jokes about their deposits in banks which 
 had suspended, and about their stock in 
 smashed-up railroads, as though the whole 
 thing were a huge joke. From the top of 
 Wall street to the bottom from Broad- 
 way to Water street the sidewalks were 
 crowded with people, desirous to know the 
 truth of the rumors which filled the air. 
 
 In other parts of the city, stirring 
 scenes were transpiring, and not a few 
 that were quite illustrative of human 
 nature in its different veins. During the 
 run upon the Bowery Savings Bank, an 
 old Irishwoman, short, thick, resolute, and 
 'a little in for it,' made herself conspicu- 
 ous by elbowing her way through the dis- 
 trustful depositors, very unceremoniously, 
 and denouncing, in no measured terms, 
 " the big blackguards that would be af ther 
 chating a poor body out iv her hard earned 
 wagis." Some order of precedence is cus- 
 tomary at such times, but the heavy shoes 
 of the Irishwoman did such execution 
 upon the corns of all who stood in her way, 
 that she soon obtained a good place near 
 the door, in spite of the remonstrances of 
 a dozen or two of younger Biddys, Mag- 
 gies, Marys, and Kathleens, who had been 
 waiting an hour or two. At the door, she 
 had a wordy quarrel with a broad-should- 
 ered black man in advance of her, calling 
 him a "runawiy nagur;" and anon she 
 varied her performances by shaking her 
 fist in the face of a policeman who, as an 
 official conservator of the peace, had under- 
 taken to check her, and, at length, very 
 red and sweaty, she stood before the pay- 
 ing teller and presented her book, with a 
 vocal invocation to him to do the clean 
 thing. " What's this mean ? " said he, look- 
 ing at her somewhat impatiently. " What's 
 your name ?" "Can't yoos rade writin' 
 hand ? " she rejoined sharply ; " shure, 
 me nam's on the book ! " "But this," said 
 he, " is only a grocer's old pass book ! 
 
 What's your name, I say ? " " Mary 
 McRagan I was christened, but I married 
 Pat Millikens." The teller turned rapidly 
 to his index of depositors. "You have 
 got no money in this bank ! " said he, when 
 he had ascertained the fact. She left the 
 premises in company with an officer, to 
 whom she confessed that she had found 
 the pass book near the crowd, and think- 
 ing it had been dropped accidentally by a 
 depositor, she had thought to obtain the 
 money before the depositor applied for it. 
 At the same bank, one man who drew out 
 his deposits was so intoxicated that he 
 could hardly stand ; quite likely, he lost 
 the savings of years before the night was 
 over. At another savings bank, one poor 
 girl had her pocket picked of her little all 
 about seventy-seven dollars, before she 
 had got out of the crowd. A vast deal 
 of chaffing occurred among those who 
 thronged the doorways of the banks. " I 
 don't know," said one to a bystander, 
 " where to put my money when I get it ! " 
 "Give it to me," rejoined the other. 
 "Sew it up in your shirt," said another; 
 and several other methods were promptly 
 and merrily suggested by the sj'mpathiz- 
 ing spectators, such as " Stick it in your 
 wig" "Let the old woman have it" 
 " Put it in your I jots, and let me wear 
 them ; " etc. 
 
 At the Sixpenny Savings Bank, a little 
 newsboy, without a jacket, and only one 
 suspender (and that a string), confronted 
 the teller on Monday, and demanded to 
 know whether " She was all right " 
 meaning the Institution because if she 
 was, he didn't mean to be scared, if every- 
 body else was. He'd got forty-two cents 
 salted down there, and all he wanted was 
 his (the teller's) word of honor that it 
 wouldn't spile. The teller assured him 
 that his money was ready for him at any 
 moment. " 'Nuff said, 'tween gen'Pmen, 
 but I don't want it," rejoined the youth, 
 and with a self-complacent, well-satisfied 
 air, walked out of the bank. "Is she 
 good ? " cried two or three other news- 
 boys who were awaiting the result, at the 
 doorsteps. " Yes, s-i-r-r-e-e ! " he replied, 
 
THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 453 
 
 "as good as wheat. Ketch our bank to 
 stop ! Yoos ought to seed the gold I seed 
 in der safe ! " " How much was they ? " 
 inquired a companion. " More'n a house- 
 full ! " was the prompt response, " an' yoos 
 don't ketch dis 'ere chile a-makin' an oold 
 woman of his-self, an' drawin' out his 
 money ; I ain't so green I ain't ! " 
 
 It will require but little strain of the 
 imagination to realize, to one's mind, the 
 case of Mrs. Jones, who, on receipt of the 
 news of the banks suspending specie pay- 
 ments, hastened to her savings bank, 
 elbowed her way smartly to the desk, pre- 
 sented her book, and demanded her money. 
 
 " Madam," said the clerk, persuasively, 
 "are you sure you want to draw this 
 money out in specie ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Jones," said a director, with an 
 oracular frown, "do you know that you 
 are injuring your fellow depositors ? " 
 
 " And setting an example of great folly 
 to less educated persons in this commu- 
 nity ? " struck in another director. 
 
 "Let us advise you simply to reflect," 
 interposed the clerk, blandly. 
 
 " To wait for a day, at least," said the 
 director. 
 
 At last there was a pause. 
 
 Mrs. Jones had been collecting herself. 
 She burst now. In a tone which was 
 heard throughout the building, and above 
 all the din of ordinary business, and at 
 which her questioners turned ashy pale, 
 she said : 
 
 " Will you pay me my money ? YES or 
 KO!" 
 
 They paid her instantly. 
 
 Not only in the great centers of business 
 and finance, like New York, Philadelphia, 
 Boston, Baltimore, Cincinnati, St. Louis, 
 and New Orleans, but in every town and 
 village, the scarcity of money and the 
 failure of banks and commercial houses, 
 operated to paralyze industry and bring 
 want to thousands of families. In conse- 
 quence of the universal stoppage of facto- 
 ries, the poorer classes in some of the man- 
 ufacturing communities saw winter ap- 
 proaching, with no prospect of earning a 
 livelihood. Whole families began to suffer 
 
 for bread the fathers willing and eager ; 
 work, but absolutely nothing to do. Tales 
 of distress were to be heard at almost 
 every step, for the factories, forges, and 
 foundries, had all ceased their cheerful 
 hum of activity, and every day's intelli- 
 gence from different parts of the land was 
 that of fresh accumulations of disaster, 
 increasing the severity of the situation, 
 and adding to the general gloom. The 
 oldest, heaviest, richest, and firmest mon- 
 eyed institutions, corporations, companies 
 and firms, which were considered equal to 
 any pressure that might be brought to 
 bear against them, were daily chronicled 
 as having " gone to the wall." Fortunes 
 were swept away, like ashes in a whirl- 
 wind. Not even in 1837, when the bank- 
 ing system of the country was in so preca- 
 rious a condition, was there such a terrible 
 downfall of old and wealthy houses. At 
 the west, there was one short, tremendous 
 collapse, that seemed to bring ruin, at one 
 quick blow, upon everything and every- 
 body ; and at the south, the devastation 
 was no less wide-spread and fatal. 
 
 Various means were resorted to, to real- 
 ize cash for stocks of goods on hand, even 
 at a ruinous discount. At numberless shop 
 windows were to be seen in staring letters, 
 such announcements as : ' These goods 
 sold at wholesale prices.' 'Selling off at 
 half cost.' ' Bargains to be had for two 
 days now or never ! ' ' We must realize 
 ten thousand dollars to-day, at any sacri- 
 fice ; ' etc. Indeed, in all the large cities, 
 the dry goods dealers, being severely 
 pressed for money, offered their goods in 
 this way, and effected large sales. A large 
 number of the most prominent wholesale 
 dealers threw open their vast warehouses 
 to retail customers, and by this means, 
 probably, not a few houses, of that class, 
 managed to escape the hard fate that befell 
 others. 
 
 Thus, in a word, there was exhibited 
 the melancholy spectacle of a great nation's 
 commercial, fii uncial, manufacturing, and 
 industrial interests in utter ruin, from one 
 end of the broad land to the other ; pros- 
 perity succeeded by abject adversity ; con- 
 
454 
 
 THE GKEAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 ficlence supplanted by total distrust; a 
 paralysis of all trade ; the stoppage of 
 almost every bank in every part of the 
 United States, the cessation of factories, 
 the discharge of thousands of laborers, the 
 inability to bring our large crops of prod- 
 uce to market, the ruinous rate of two or 
 three per cent, a month on the strongest 
 paper, and a ruinous depreciation in the 
 price of all stocks. The steamers on the 
 great rivers and lakes stood still ; the 
 canal boats ceased to ply ; the railroad 
 trains conveyed less than half the usual 
 amount of travelers and merchandise ; the 
 navigating interest shared the common 
 distress, so that the cargoes, brought from 
 abroad, either passed into the public stores, 
 or were re-exported at great loss ; the 
 freighting business was nearly annihilated. 
 Alarmed, too, at the prospect before them, 
 ship-loads of emigrants were taken home 
 to their native land, in the packets run- 
 ning from Boston and New York to Eu- 
 rope. Nor did the fortune-tellers fail to 
 drive a brisk business in informing igno- 
 rant and credulous inquirers what was to 
 "turn up." 
 
 That this great national calamity had 
 its root in the fever for land and railroad 
 speculation, involving enormous debt, with 
 no corresponding sound basis or adequate 
 means, cannot be doubted. Mr. Gibbons, 
 one of the very ablest of American finan- 
 cial writers, argues, in respect to this 
 point, th5t, notwithstanding the appear- 
 ances of prosperity previous to the panic, 
 there existed all the conditions of extraor- 
 dinary financial disturbance. A prodig- 
 ious weight of insolvency had been carried 
 along for years in the volume of trade. 
 Extravagance of living had already sapped 
 the foundations of commercial success, in 
 hundreds of instances where credit sup- 
 plied the place of lost capital. Misman- 
 agement and fraud had gained footing in 
 public companies to an incredible degree ; 
 hundreds of millions of bonds were issued 
 with little regard to the validity of their 
 basis, and pressed upon the market by dis- 
 honest agents, at any price, from sixty 
 down to thirty cents on the dollar. False 
 
 quotations were obtained by sham auction 
 sales. The newspaper press, in particular 
 instances, was bribed into silence, or 
 became a partner in the profits to be 
 derived from the various schemes which it 
 commended to general confidence. The 
 land grants by congress to railway compa- 
 nies gave added impetus to speculation, 
 and state legislatures were bribed to locate 
 roads to serve individual interests. Public, 
 as well as private credit, was compromised. 
 It could not be otherwise than that 
 bankruptcy and an overwhelming crash 
 should succeed such an inflated and preca- 
 rious state of things. Even when trade 
 and business are conducted in accordance 
 with fair and legitimate rules, the records 
 of insolvency among American merchants 
 tell a woful tale. Thus, General Dearborn, 
 who for twenty years was collector of the 
 port of Boston, and who had ample oppor- 
 tunities for observing the vicissitudes of 
 trade, ascertained, on investigation, that 
 among every hundred of the merchants 
 and traders of that city whose character 
 for carefulness and stability will compare 
 favorably with that of merchants in any 
 other portion of the land not more than 
 three ever acquired an independence. 
 This conclusion was not arrived at without 
 preat distrust; but an experienced mer- 
 chant, who was consulted, fully confirmed 
 its truth. A Boston antiquarian in the 
 year 1800 took a memorandum of every 
 person doing business on Long Wharf, 
 and in 1840 only five in one hundred 
 remained ; all but these had either failed 
 or died insolvent. The Union Bank com- 
 menced business in 1798, there being then 
 only one other bank. The Union was 
 overrun with business, the clerks being 
 obliged to work till midnight, and even on 
 Sundays. An examination, some fifty or 
 sixty years from the starting of the bank, 
 showed that of one thousand accounts 
 opened at the commencement, only six 
 remained ; all the others had either failed, 
 or died insolvent, houses whose paper 
 had passed without question, the very par- 
 ties who had constituted the solid men of 
 the city, all had gone down in that period. 
 
THE GREAT PANIC OF 1857. 
 
 455 
 
 Of the direful havoc, therefore, created by 
 a sudden and violent panic, sweeping over 
 the whole country like a hurricane, some 
 idea may be formed from the statistics 
 here given. 
 
 Notwithstanding the resumption of 
 business on a specie basis, in about two 
 months from the time of their suspension, 
 
 by most of those banks which were in a 
 solvent condition, it was a long while 
 before trade and industry recovered from 
 their crippled state ; and the embarrass- 
 ment and suffering which consequently 
 weighed, during so protracted a period, 
 upon all classes of the community, were 
 painful to the last degree. 
 
LVI. 
 
 THE "GREAT AWAKENING" IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD ; 
 
 AND THE POPULAR REVIVAL MOVEMENT (IN 1875-6) 
 
 UNDER MESSRS. MOODY AND SANKEY. 1857. 
 
 like a Mighty Rushing Wind, it Sweeps from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Crowded Prayer-Meetings 
 Held Daily in Every City and Town, from the Granite Hills of the North to the Rolling Prairies of 
 the West and the Golden Slopes of California. Large Accessions, from all Classes, to the Churches 
 of Every Name and Denomination. The " American Pentecost." Early American Revivals. Dr. 
 Franklin and Mr. Whitefield. The Revival of 1857 Spontaneous. No Leaders or Organizers. Its 
 Immediate Cause. Universal Ruin of Commerce. Anxiety for Higher Interests. All Days of the 
 Week Alike. Business Men in the Work. Telegraphing Religious Tidings. New York a Center 
 of Influence Fulton Street Prayer-Meeting. Scenes in Burton's Theater. New Themes and Actors. 
 Countless Requests for Prayers. A Wonderful Book. Striking Moral Results. Men of Violence 
 Reformed. Crime and Suicide Prevented. Infidels, Gamblers, Pugilists, Jessie Fremont's Gold 
 . " Awful " Gardner's Case. 
 
 " What nothing earthly giwa, or ean destroy, 
 The i-out's calm tuiuhme and the heartfelt joy." 
 
 EVIVALS of religious feeling 
 and interest, attended with 
 great numerical accessions to 
 the church, have been not 
 unfrequent among the various 
 denominations of Christians in Amer- 
 ica, from the very earliest period of the 
 country's settlement; and, during the 
 eighteenth century, under the labors of 
 such men as Whitefield, Edwards, the 
 Tennents, and others, such results fol- 
 lowed as had never before characterized 
 any age or people. The labors of 
 Whitefield, in especial, stirred the public mind to its depths, and reached all hearts. 
 Even Dr. Franklin, rationalist though he was, was won upon, head, heart, and pocket, 
 by the power of this mightiest of pulpit orators. Happening to attend one of his meet- 
 ings in Philadelphia, and perceiving, in the course of the sermon, that Whitefield 
 intended to finish with a collection, Franklin silently resolved that the preacher should 
 get nothing from him, though he had in his pocket a handful of copper money, three or 
 four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As Whitefield proceeded. Franklin began 
 to soften, and determined to give the copper. Another stroke of the preacher's oratory, 
 made Franklin ashamed of that, and determined him to give the silver instead ; but 
 
 BOOK OF BEQUESTS FOB PKAYERS. 
 
GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 457 
 
 the preacher finished so admirably, that 
 the philosopher emptied his pocket wholly 
 into the collector's dish, gold and all. On 
 the same occasion, another gentleman, sus- 
 pecting a collection might be intended, 
 bad, by precaution, emptied his pockets 
 oefore leaving home. Towards the conclu- 
 sion of the discourse, however, he felt a 
 strong inclination to give, and applied to 
 a neighbor, who stood near him, to lend 
 him some money for the purpose. The 
 request was made to, perhaps, the only 
 man in the assembly who had the firmness 
 not to be affected by the preacher. His 
 answer was, "At any other time, friend 
 Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely ; 
 but not now, for thee seems to be out of 
 thy right senses." The multitudes, of all 
 denominations, that went to hear this won- 
 derful man, were enormous indeed, one 
 great secret of his success was, his freedom 
 from sectarian prejudice and animosity. 
 As an illustration of this quality, it is 
 related that in the midst of one of his 
 most overpowering discourses, he stopped 
 short for an instant, and then uttered the 
 following impressive apostrophe : " Father 
 Abraham, who have you in heaven ? any 
 Episcopalians ? " " No." " Any Presby- 
 terians?" "No." "Any Baptists?" 
 " No." "Have you any Methodists, Sece- 
 ders, or Independents there?" "No, 
 no ! " " Why who have you there ? " 
 " We don't know those names here. All 
 who are here are Christians, believers in 
 Christ men who have overcome by the 
 blood of the Lamb, and the word of his 
 testimony." "Oh, is that the case ? then 
 God help me, God help us all, to forget 
 party names, and to become Christians, in 
 deed and in truth." The labors of such a 
 champion could not be otherwise thin 
 fruitful of good. 
 
 Without dwelling upon the scenes and 
 results relating to the early religious 
 efforts alluded to above, it may be said of 
 the revival in 1857-8 known as "the 
 Great Awakening," and which is the 
 subject of this chapter, that it depended 
 not upon any leader or preacher, however 
 eloquent, but was the spontaneous out- 
 
 growth of the heart's necessities, felt in 
 common by the great mass of the public, 
 in view of the financial tornado which, 
 sweeping with such universal destructive- 
 ness over the land, had given impressive 
 weight to the truth, that " the things 
 which are seen are temporal, out the 
 things which are not seen are eternal." 
 No words could convey a better idea of the 
 general feeling which thus possessed men's 
 minds at this period of mercantile ruin on 
 the one hand, and of religious anxiety on 
 the other, than those uttered by a promi- 
 nent merchant of New York, at one of the 
 business men's daily prayer-meetings in 
 that city. "Prayer," said he, "was never 
 so great a blessing to me as it is now. I 
 should certainly either break down or turn 
 rascal, except for it ! When one sees his 
 property taken from him every day, by 
 those who might pay him if they were 
 willing to make sacrifices in order to do it, 
 but who will not make the least effort even 
 for this end, and by some who seem de- 
 signedly to take advantage of the times, in 
 order to defraud him and when he him- 
 self is liable to the keenest reproaches from 
 others if he does not pay money, which he 
 cannot collect and cannot create the 
 temptation is tremendous to forget Chris- 
 tian charity, and be as hard and unmerci- 
 ful as anybody. If I could not get some 
 half hours every day to pray myself into a 
 right state of mind, I should either be 
 overburdened and disheartened, or do such 
 things as no Christian man ought." Tes- 
 timonies like this were innumerable from 
 business men, they, as well as the laity 
 in general, being most prominent in carry- 
 ing on the work. 
 
 But, though this movement was, in a 
 very great degree, spontaneous, it was 
 early accompanied by a systematic plan of 
 family visitation, in the principal cities, 
 and by noonday prayer-meetings, in almost 
 every city, town, and village, from one end 
 of the country to the other. In such 
 places as New York, Boston, Philadelphia, 
 Cincinnati, Chicago, Richmond, as well as 
 farther south and west, not only were the 
 usual houses of worship crowded daily, but 
 
458 
 
 GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 the largest public halls were hired for the 
 same purpose, and resounded every day 
 with fervent prayers, songs of praise, and 
 earnest exhortations. 
 
 Thus, in Philadelphia, the vast audience 
 room of Jayne's Hall, and, in New York, 
 Burton's well-known theater, were appro- 
 priated for religious assemblings. The 
 room hitherto occupied in the first-named 
 hall, contained accommodations for about 
 three hundred persons, and when it was 
 decided upon to remove into the large hall, 
 it was with no expectation that the room 
 would be filled, at such an hour as noon- 
 day. To the amazement of all, however, 
 it was densely crowded, every seat being 
 occupied, including the settees in the aisles, 
 and a large portion of the immense galler- 
 ies, and those who left for want of room 
 upon the main floor, are said to have 
 exceeded the number who could not gain 
 admission on the day previous, when the 
 meeting was held in the small room ad- 
 joining. It was estimated that there were 
 certainly not less than three thousand per- 
 sons who entered the hall during the hour, 
 and it was conceded, hy those whose 
 means of knowledge enabled them to judge, 
 that this was the largest meeting convened 
 for the simple purpose of prayer to God, 
 that had ever been assembled in this 
 country. 
 
 From New York city, a vast religious 
 influence went forth to all parts of the 
 land, and details of the daily proceedings 
 in the prayer-meetings held at Burton's 
 theater, and in the Fulton street and John 
 street church vestries, were published far 
 and wide by the secular press. Indeed, 
 the fullness and candor characterizing the 
 reports contained in the city journals, 
 were, with scarcely an exception, most 
 honorable to those influential mediums of 
 public enlightenment. Of the now almost 
 world-renowned Fulton street prayer-meet- 
 ing, held at first in one room, but to which, 
 as the revival progressed, it was found 
 necessary to add two more, the Daily Tri- 
 bune of March 6, 1858, said : " All three 
 are now not only filled to their utmost 
 capacity, but would be still more largely 
 
 attended if there were sitting or even 
 standing-room to be offered to the multi- 
 tude. A placard is posted on the gate, 
 inviting persons to enter, though sucli an 
 invitation seems no longer necessary: 
 ' Step in for five minutes, or longer, as 
 your time permits.' Inside notices ar 
 hung on the walls, to the effect that 
 prayers and remarks should be brief, ' in 
 order to give all an opportunity,' and for- 
 bidding the introduction of 'controverted 
 points,' for the purpose of preventing the- 
 ological discussion. These precautions are 
 taken, in order to give as much variety as 
 possible to the exercises, for it is always 
 unpardonable to render a crowded meeting 
 dull. The frequenters of this meeting 
 come from all classes of society, and are 
 invited as such, without regard to their 
 differences. Many clergymen of the city 
 churches, and many prominent laymen, 
 including merchants and gentlemen in the 
 legal and medical professions, are seen 
 there every day as they ought to be seen 
 side by side with the mechanic and the 
 day laborer, and even the street beggar. 
 Draymen drive up their carts to the 
 church, and, hitching their horses outside, 
 go in with the crowd ; and ' fine ladies,' 
 who sometimes have Christian hearts in 
 spite of unchristian fashions, driven down 
 from ' up town ' in their fine carriages, also 
 step in and mingle with the same multi- 
 tude. The exercises consist about equally 
 of prayers, remarks, and singing. Of 
 course it is impracticable for so many to 
 take part in the speaking or the audible 
 praying, but they all join in the singing 
 with great zeal and emphasis. On one 
 occasion, the volume of sound was so heavy 
 as to dislodge from its place on the wall 
 the clock which had been securely fastened, 
 as was supposed, and bring it crashing to 
 the floor. It is not unfrequent, during the 
 continuance of the meeting, to see a crowd 
 of persons collected in the street in front 
 of the church, to listen to the spirit-stirring 
 hymns that are sung inside. The prayer- 
 meeting held in the old Methodist church 
 in John street is similar to this. The 
 attendance here is already found sufficient 
 
GEE AT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 459 
 
 to crowd the entire ground floor of the 
 building. Many Methodist brethren at- 
 tend this meeting in preference to the 
 other, but the proceedings are character- 
 ized with entire catholicity and freedom 
 from sectarianism." Perhaps no better 
 illustration could be afforded of this unsec- 
 tarian feeling, as well as of the prevailing 
 spirit of the times, than the following dis- 
 patch, which was sent by telegraph, at 
 noon, March 12th, to the great union 
 prayer-meeting in Jayne's Hall, Philadel- 
 phia : 
 
 " Christian Brethren The New York 
 John street Union Meeting sends you 
 greeting in brotherly love : ' And the in- 
 habitants of one city shall go to another, 
 saying, Let us go speedily to pray before 
 the Lord, and to seek the Lord of Hosts 
 I will go also. Praise the Lord call 
 upon his name declare his doings among 
 the people make mention that his name 
 is exalted.' " 
 
 To the above message, the following 
 dispatch from Mr. George H. Stuart, a 
 prominent Old School Presbyterian and 
 chairman of the Philadelphia meeting, was 
 immediately telegraphed and read to the 
 John street meeting : 
 
 "Jayne's Hall daily Prayer Meeting is 
 crowded ; upwards of three thousand pres- 
 ent; with one mind and heart they glorify 
 our Father in heaven for the mighty work 
 he is doing in our city and country, in the 
 building up of saints and the conversion of 
 sinners. The Lord hath done great things 
 for us, whence joy to us is brought. May 
 He who holds the seven stars in his right 
 hand, and who walks in the midst of the 
 churches, be with you by His Spirit this 
 day. Grace, mercy, and peace, be with 
 you." 
 
 Even among those denominations unac- 
 customed to what are known as 'revival 
 measures ' for the furtherance of religion, 
 such as the Unitarian, Universalist, and 
 Episcopalian, a disposition was manifested 
 to co-operate, in prayers and labors, for the 
 success of the good work. In Boston, and 
 other places, prayer-meetings were con- 
 ducted by the Unitarian clergy and laity, 
 
 which were thronged to the utmost capac- 
 ity of the halls used for the purpose. In 
 New York, the Orchard Street Universalist 
 church, Rev. Dr. Sawyer, exhibited a warm 
 sympathy with the revival, and took an 
 active part in its progress ; prayer-meetings 
 were held twice a week, which were fully at- 
 tended, a deep religious feeling pervaded 
 the congregation, and large numbers 
 united with the church. The card of invi- 
 tation to their prayer-meeting, which, like 
 that of other denominations, was exten- 
 sively circulated, read as follows : A gen- 
 eral prayer-meeting will be held every 
 Wednesday and Friday evening, at half- 
 past seven o'clock, in the lecture-room of 
 the Rev. Dr. Sawyer's church, Orchard 
 street, near Broome. ' Ho, every one that 
 thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he 
 that hath no money ; come ye, buy and 
 eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk with- 
 out money and without price.' 
 
 Among the Episcopalians, meetings of 
 deep interest were held, including regular 
 evening services for prayer and short ad- 
 dresses, at the Church of the Ascension, 
 New York, Rev. Dr. Bedell's. One of 
 these meetings was of a very impressive 
 character. The meeting commenced with 
 singing the hymn, "Stay, thou insulted 
 Spirit, stay," a series of prayers followed, 
 after which Rev. Mr. Dickson delivered 
 a short address, founded on the words, 
 " Lord, are there few that be saved ? " 
 Other hymns were sung, and then remarks 
 made by Rev. Drs. Dyer and Cutler, Epis- 
 copal rectors. Doctor Cutler said that, 
 twenty years ago, such a meeting as the 
 present one would have been denounced as 
 Methodistical ; but he felt that he could 
 almost say, with Simeon of old, "Now, 
 Lord, let thy servant depart in peace," for 
 he had witnessed that glorious "levia- 
 than," the Episcopal Church, which for 
 forty years he had lamented to see, with 
 all its noble qualities and precious gifts, 
 being fast in the stocks, at last launched 
 and making full headway in the river that 
 flows from the City of God. 
 
 Next to the Fulton street prayer-meet- 
 ing, in point of wide-reaching influence, 
 
460 GKEAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 OBOiP OF EMINENT BEVIVAL PBEACHEBS DURING THE NATIONAL CENTUJMr. 
 
GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 461 
 
 the meetings for prayer held daily, at 
 noon, in Burton's theater, may be spoken 
 of as most conspicuous. It was hired for 
 this purpose by the New York Young 
 Men's Christian Association, and was 
 crowded daily with earnest-minded men 
 and women, fervent in their songs, prayers, 
 and exhortations. The place made so 
 famous, in years past, by the histrionic 
 performances of Burton, Blake, Placide, 
 Holland, Davenport, Johnston, Lester, 
 Jordan, Fisher, Brougham, and other 
 celebrities, now resounded with the soul- 
 stirring appeals of such men as Cuyler, 
 Beecher, Hatfield, Armitage, and a host of 
 warm-hearted merchants and professional 
 men, all enlisted in the good work of ex- 
 tolling the glad tidings of salvation. In- 
 stead of polkas, schottisches, and waltzes 
 instead of fiddle and bow, orchestra and 
 overture, there were the grave and seri- 
 ous hymns, " Children of the Heavenly 
 King," and " Salvation, the joyful 
 sound," "Return, my wandering soul, 
 return," etc. With the exception of now 
 and then a fervid "Amen," or a hearty 
 " Yes, Lord," the order and quiet of the 
 audience during the speaking were entirely 
 uninterrupted. 
 
 At all the multitudinous prayer-meet- 
 ings held in different places throughout 
 the country, one marked feature of the 
 proceedings was that of receiving and 
 reading requests for prayers. The re- 
 quests of this character sent to the Fulton 
 street meeting have all been carefully pre- 
 served in a book, constituting a volume 
 upon which no one can look without the 
 deepest interest. The scope and variety 
 of these requests afford so apt a reflection 
 of the state of feeling during the revival 
 period, that a few specimens of those pre- 
 sented at different times and places, will 
 be a fajr illustration of all : 
 
 'A Christian merchant earnestly desires 
 the prayers of God's people for his co-part- 
 ners in business, and for all the voung 
 men in their employment unconverted to 
 God.' 
 
 'An anxious wife is praying earnestly 
 at this hour for her husband, who once 
 
 made a profession of religion, but is now 
 fearful that he never was born of the 
 Spirit, and is in darkness. She asks for 
 an interest in your prayers in his behalf.' 
 
 ' The prayers of those who are accus- 
 tomed to intercede with God, are requested 
 by a San Franciscan, that the Almighty 
 would visit the city of San Francisco with 
 a gracious outpouring of his Spirit. Re- 
 member your brothers and fathers on the 
 Pacific coast.' 
 
 'The prayers of this meeting are re- 
 quested for a young lady who scoffs at 
 religion. Don't forget her, brethren. She 
 has no one to pray for her but the writer 
 of this. Oh, pray for her.' 
 
 'A widow asks for the prayers of the 
 brethren and sisters for a son brought up 
 under careful religious instruction, who 
 last night cursed his mother that he may 
 this day be brought to the feet of Jesus.' 
 
 ' Prayers are requested for a sister who 
 is given to intemperance.' 
 
 'The prayers of Christians are most 
 earnestly requested by a son in behalf of 
 an aged father, nearly seventy years old. 
 A family of ten children are praying 
 morning, noon, and night for him.' 
 
 ' The prayers of Christians are requested 
 for a young man the son of a clergyman 
 who is an idle jester on the subject of 
 religion, and who has, within the last 
 hour, been heard to ridicule these meet- 
 ings, and to jest upon these subjects.' 
 
 ' My husband is not a Christian, though 
 often thoughtful. I have prayed for his 
 conversion every day since our marriage 
 nine years. May I ask an interest in 
 your prayers that my husband may seek 
 now an interest in Christ, and that we 
 may both become devoted, earnest, Bible- 
 Christians ? ' 
 
 ' The prayers of the Fulton street meet- 
 ing are earnestly requested for a bible 
 class of twenty-two young ladies, con- 
 nected with one of the Dutch Reformed 
 churches in this vicinity, some of whom 
 appear to be anxious for their souls.' 
 
 It was in this spirit that the Great 
 Awakening showed its character and its 
 power in all sections of the land, north, 
 
462 
 
 GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 south, east, and west, the Wind of God 
 sweeping benignly from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific, reaching across the length 
 and breadth of the continent, from the 
 granite mountains of the north to the roll- 
 ing prairies of the west and the golden 
 slopes of California. It was, in a word, 
 the American Pentecost, the great relig- 
 ious epoch of the national century, un- 
 equaled in earnestness, union, and univer- 
 sality, by any similar movement that had 
 preceded it, in the history of the western 
 world. The spiritual activities of the 
 denominations were everywhere constant 
 and fruitful, the accessions to the churches 
 being numbered by scores of thousands. 
 In places the most obscure, remote and 
 isolated, the most fervid religious engaged- 
 ness was to be found, while, in the larger 
 towns and cities, no business man, what- 
 ever his location, needed to go forty rods 
 to find a prayer-meeting in operation, with 
 a printed invitation outside for him to 
 enter and listen to the prayers and expe- 
 riences of others, and, if he so desired, take 
 a part in the exercises himself. There 
 were special meetings for prayer, also, in 
 behalf of firemen, policemen, waiters at 
 hotels, seamen, and boys, maintained 
 wholly or in part by the classes specially 
 named, and resulting in a large amount of 
 good. Men of established Christian char- 
 acter were strengthened in their good pur- 
 poses ; the indifferent and heedless were 
 awakened to thoughtfulness on religious 
 themes ; and multitudes, everywhere, who 
 had led lives of immorality and wicked- 
 ness, dangerous to society, were reclaimed, 
 and henceforth walked in the path of 
 virtue and honor. 
 
 Of the many interesting incidents which 
 transpired during this wonderful period, 
 only a few can here be cited. 
 
 Just after the commencement of the 
 great panic, (says Rev. Mr. Adams, a well- 
 known Methodist preacher in New York,) 
 a young man called on me late on Satur- 
 day night. He was the picture of distress 
 and despair. Supposing him to be one of 
 the many cases that daily came under my 
 notice, I invited him in. He sat some 
 
 minutes in perfect silence, and finally 
 burst into tears. It was some time before 
 he could control himself sufficiently to go 
 on, and then said, " Can you do anything 
 for me ? " I requested him to state his 
 case. He said he was miserable beyond 
 description had been blessed with pious 
 parents and a religious education, but had 
 gone far away from the counsels of his 
 fathers ; he had fallen into shameful sin, 
 until his soul loathed himself, and he had 
 been on the verge of self-destruction. 
 "This afternoon," said he, "feeling a hell 
 within, I went and bought poison, went 
 into my room, and was about to take it, 
 when something seemed to say to me, 'Go 
 down and see the minister,' and I have 
 come. Will you pray for me ? " He fell 
 on his knees and cried aloud for mercy. 
 After two hours of prayer, he grew calm, 
 and finally joyful. He gave me a package, 
 and requested me to destroy it; there was 
 laudanum in it enough to have killed 
 half a dozen men. 
 
 One of the first conversions among the 
 sailors, was that of a man who had been 
 greatly addicted to gambling, and to other 
 vices that usually accompany this. When 
 he went to the meeting, he had just left 
 the gaming-table ; but when he returned, 
 his first act was to consign his cards and 
 dice to the flames. He then knelt down, 
 prayed, and was converted. He went to 
 sea, and on board the ship daily prayer- 
 meetings were held both in the cabin and 
 forecastle. 
 
 A merchant, after having attended one 
 of the crowded prayer-meetings held in 
 the city, determined, on returning home, 
 to make an effort for the spiritual good of 
 some of his friends and neighbors. On 
 of these was a,man who avowed himself an 
 infidel. A prayer-meeting was organized, 
 to which this man with others was invited, 
 and, after several days' attendance, rose 
 on one occasion, and requested that prayer 
 should be made in his behalf. To the 
 surprise and almost astonishment of his 
 acquaintances, he shortly afterward re- 
 nounced infidelity, and embraced the 
 Christian religion. 
 
GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 463 
 
 At many of the telegraph offices, mes- 
 sages were constantly being sent to all 
 parts of the land, announcing conversions. 
 Some of these were exceedingly tender and 
 touching, such as, 'Dear mother, the revi- 
 val continues, and I, too, have been con- 
 verted.' ' My dear parents, you will re- 
 joice to hear that I have found peace with 
 God.' 'Tell 1113' sister that I have come 
 to the Cross of Christ.' ' At last I have 
 faith and peace.' 
 
 The influence of personal effort and a 
 good example was forcibly illustrated in 
 the following case of a man and wi,fe, who 
 were utterly regardless even of the forms 
 of religion, the husband, indeed, being an 
 infidel. The wife had, however, been 
 taken by some one to the meetings in a 
 neighboring Methodist church, and, un- 
 known to her husband, had become inter- 
 ested in them. One day he was scoffi^c; 
 in her presence at the revival, expressing 
 his disbelief in everything of the kind, 
 especially ridiculing the Methodist modes 
 of labor, and winding up with a threat 
 that he would soon stop any of hit family 
 who should bo guilty of the folly of going 
 up to the altar. " Why," said his wife, 
 throwing her arms round his neck, and 
 giving him a kiss, "do you know that / 
 was there last night ? " " No," he replied, 
 returning her kiss; " but I am glad of it." 
 He was softened ; that same evening he 
 accompanied her to meeting, and went up 
 to the altar himself. 
 
 St. Paul's Episcopal church, on Broad- 
 way, New York, was filled with multi- 
 tudes, on Wednesday and Friday evenings, 
 in attendance on the devotional services 
 performed there. On one of these occa- 
 sions, soon after the exercises commenced, 
 the large and fashionable congregation was 
 surprised by the entrance of three Indian 
 maidens, wrapped in their blue blankets. 
 They paused for an instant at the door, 
 and then advanced to the front of the altar 
 with quiet dignity and self-possession, and 
 knelt doirn to their devotions. As the 
 solemn ceremonies drew near to a close, 
 they rose, crossed themselves, and, saluting 
 the altar, glided down the aisle and from 
 
 the church. They were of the Caughne- 
 waga tribe, residing near Montreal, and 
 had visited New York for the purpose of 
 selling their trinkets, bead moccasins, and 
 baskets. Being mostly Catholics, they 
 usually worshiped in the church of that 
 order on Canal street ; but it seemed that 
 they had observed the brilliantly illumin- 
 ated church in passing by, and had entered, 
 forgetful of form or sect, to kneel with 
 their white sisters before the common 
 Father of all. 
 
 In Mr. Beecher's church, Brooklyn, at 
 the close of one of the morning meetings, 
 a charitable collection was taken up. 
 Among the audience was Mrs. Fremont 
 (" Our Jessie "), who, happening to have 
 no money in her pocket, as the plate was 
 passed, took from her finger a heavy gold 
 ring, and threw it in as the only contribu- 
 tion which she was able at the moment to 
 make. The ring contained on the outside 
 an engraved lee, in allusion to a beautiful 
 incident in Fremont's passage of the 
 Rocky Mountains, and, on the inside, 
 the inscription, ' March 4, '57.' 
 
 One of the most remarkable conversions 
 among the dangerous and criminal classes, 
 was that of Orville Gardner, commonly 
 called "Awful" Gardner, a noted prize- 
 fighter and trainer of pugilists. He was 
 induced to attend one of the Methodist 
 meetings, and, to the surprise of multi- 
 tudes, he requested the prayers of the con- 
 gregation, request which on three differ- 
 ent occasiors he repeated. At this time, 
 he was residing in the vicinity of New 
 York. Having some unimportant busi- 
 ness to do in that city, a friend asked him 
 if he wo^ld " jump into the cars and go 
 down and attend to it." He replied, " I 
 have more important business to attend to 
 first, and I shall not go to the city till it 
 is done." He had then three men under 
 his training for a prize-fight. On being 
 asked if he would give them further les- 
 sons, he replied that "he would go to 
 them soon, but on a different errand from 
 boxing and training he would try to per- 
 suade them to reform, and to embrace 
 religion." 
 
464 
 
 GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 A young man, hearing himself prayed 
 for by some friends, became so angry, that 
 he resolved to sell his farm and go west, 
 away from such interfering relatives. 
 They continued to pray, and he finally 
 sold his farm, and was going to start for 
 Albany, on his way to the west. While 
 going to take the cars, he passed the 
 prayer-meeting, and, having some time to 
 wait for the train, thought he would just 
 step in, to pass the time away, and see 
 what was going on. He went in, was 
 deeply impressed, and his case was imme- 
 diately added to the great multitude of 
 similar instances of reformation, which 
 made the Great Awakening of 1857-8 so 
 memorable in the religious history of the 
 nation. 
 
 world-wide fame, who had some time pre- 
 viously been on a tour of active and suc- 
 cessful religious labor in different parts of 
 Europe. Returning to their native land, 
 they devoted themselves, for consecutive 
 months, and with great and disinterested 
 earnestness, among the masses, and this, 
 too, as it appeared, not only without stated 
 or assured pecuniary compensation, but 
 absolutely without consideration of money 
 or hire, beyond what was voluntarily con- 
 tributed by friends for their current ex- 
 penses. 
 
 Never before, perhaps, were the fount- 
 ains of the higher life in man opened up 
 so abundantly and universally in our land, 
 as by the efforts of these simple-spoken 
 but intrepid and warm-hearted reformers, 
 
 But, in addition to the Great Awaken- 
 ing thus distinguishing the periods de- 
 scribed, and which wrought such mighty 
 results, there was to succeed another, 
 which, in some of its aspects, was to prove 
 even more noteworthy. Indeed, it may 
 be said, without exaggeration, that one of 
 the most happy, conciliatory, and widely 
 useful religious movements characterizing 
 the history of our country, and, in fact, 
 the history of modern times, creating an 
 enthusiasm as genial and far-reaching as 
 it was decorous and practical, was that 
 which commenced in the fall of 1875, 
 under the personal auspices of Messrs. 
 Moody and Sankey, lay evangelists of i 
 
 as they went from town to town and from 
 city to city, with the proclamation, by fer- 
 vent discourse, and cheering, melting song, 
 of the " glad tidings of good." 
 
 Standing aloof from even the shadow of 
 sectarian propagandism or theological dis- 
 putation, they enlisted the co-operation 
 or, at least, the good will and God-speed 
 of all denominations of Christians, and, so 
 conciliatory was their speech, and so ra- 
 tional their methods, in appealing to the 
 irreligious or indifferent, that, unlike the 
 experience which would probably have at- 
 tended a different course, little if any time 
 was lost in provoking criticism or combat- 
 ing objections. And this, in a word, was 
 
GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLL 
 
 465 
 
 the cause of the welcome extended them, 
 wherever they went, uud of the almost 
 invariably rich harvests which accom- 
 panied their labors. Nothing, in fact, 
 could better evince the favorable impres- 
 sioT. made by these evangelists upon soci- 
 ety, than the judgments of the value of 
 their work, expressed by those not holding 
 their opinions. Thus, the Tablet, an in- 
 fluential journal of the Roman Catholic 
 faith, published in New York, spoke of 
 Mr. Moody as affording, in " the midst of 
 an age of mocking and unbelieving, a kind 
 of earnest testimony to Jesus, and we can 
 not find it in our heart to say it is not of 
 God; "-and, though guarding its conces- 
 sions by the claim for its own Church of 
 possessing solely the real truth, it admit- 
 ted, nevertheless, that "it is something in 
 cities where the divinity of Christ and His 
 divine teaching are openly blasphemed, 
 and where to the great bulk of the popula- 
 tion the Christian religion is a matter of 
 complete indifference, when it is not one 
 of scorn, that their ears should be accus- 
 tomed to words of adoration and love of 
 Him, and that even the dreary wastes of 
 heresy should echo with the name of 
 Jesus. . . . This work of Mr. Moody's is 
 not sin. It cannot be sin to invite men 
 to love and serve Jesus Christ." 
 
 And in a similar spirit to that just cited, 
 the Jewish Messenger, referring to the 
 meetings contemplated to be held by these 
 evangelists, in the vast hippodrome, New 
 York city, expressed it as its opinion that, 
 whatever objection might be urged to 
 emotional religion as spasmodic, lacking 
 in substantial good, no man of sense could 
 declaim against such services, if conducted 
 in the same orderly and earnest way that 
 had characterized the meetings else- 
 where. In the same vein was the utter- 
 ance of a distinguished preacher in 
 Brooklyn, N. Y., one representing the 
 extreme wing of the 'liberal' school, 
 who declared, in a sermon, that, if 
 Moody and Sankey could reach the 
 masses of the people, "they would per- 
 form a work for which all lovers of man- 
 kind would be grateful." That this hope 
 30 
 
 was largely realized, in the case of 
 Brooklyn itself, is well known. 
 
 One of the events in Mr. Moody's career 
 which peculiarly conspired to awaken pop- 
 ular enthusiasm in behalf of him and his 
 cause, on this side of the Atlantic, was the 
 account, which preceded his arrival in 
 Anierica by some weeks, of the extraordi- 
 nary occasion attending the close of the 
 evangelists' wonderful labors in London, 
 and which, on being read by their friends 
 in this country, seemed like a prophecy of 
 great things in store for their native land, 
 when their homeward voyage should be 
 accomplished. It appeared, according to 
 the account of the meeting referred to 
 the last of the immense gatherings of this 
 kind in that metropolis that, for some 
 days prior to its taking place, the anxiety 
 of the people to obtain admission to the 
 hall amounted almost to a frenzy, and not 
 altogether a harmless one. Numbers were 
 waiting for admission as early as three 
 o'clock in the morning, or hours before the 
 opening, all the approaches were crowded 
 with surging throngs, some of whom had 
 come from great distances, and, all 
 around, dense masses of men, women, and 
 children, were present, worked up to the 
 highest point of interest and expectation. 
 Mr. Moody found entrance through a pri- 
 vate house adjoining, and with the help of 
 a ladder. Meetings were held outside, but 
 nothing less than seeing and hearing Mr. 
 Moody would satisfy the densely packed 
 multitude. Among the great dignitaries 
 present were the Queen of the Netherlands 
 and the Duchess of Sutherland. The last 
 words of the evangelist ware very impres- 
 sive, as indeed, was the whole scene of 
 this most memorable occasion, and his sen- 
 timents, as then and there uttered rapid, 
 spontaneous, gushing, may be said to 
 fitly represent the preacher's character and 
 power. ''It is," he said, " the last time I 
 shall have the unspeakable privilege of 
 preaching the gospel in England. I have 
 never enjoyed preaching so much as I have 
 in this country." " Have another week," 
 shouted a man. " I want to have you all 
 saved tonight," said Mr. Moody, looking 
 
466 
 
 GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 REVIVAL MEETING l.N BROOKLYN, COSUUCIKD BY MESSRS. MOODY AND BASKEY. 
 
 toward the speaker. " If I were to stay 
 another week, I could tell you no more. I 
 have not told you a hundredth part of the 
 story, hut I have done the best I can with 
 this stammering tongue. I don't want to 
 close this meeting until I see you safe 
 behind the walls of the city of refuge. 
 During the past thirty days I have been 
 preaching here, I have tried to allure 
 you away to that world of light. I have 
 told you of hell to warn you, and I have 
 told you of the love of God. To-night I 
 have been trying to illustrate salvation. 
 You can receive Christ and be saved, or 
 reject him and be lost. By-and-by there 
 will be a glorious future, and I want to 
 know how many there are willing to join 
 me for eternity. How many will stand up 
 here before God and man, and say, by that 
 act, you will join me for heaven ? Those 
 who are willing to do so to-night, will you 
 just rise ? " Multitudes rose to their feet. 
 
 Of this remarkable European tour of the 
 evangelists, one of them afterwards said, 
 "I remember when we left home, not 
 knowing what was before us. We landed 
 in Liverpool, and found the friends who 
 invited us over both dead. We were 
 strangers, but God led us ; His Spirit 
 directed us up to a dead town, where we 
 held a prayer-meeting, at which, at first, 
 there were but four persons present. After- 
 ward more came. People thought we were 
 two Americans with sinister designs. The 
 meetings, however, increased in interest 
 and power, and then the work began." 
 
 In due time, after returning to this 
 country, the evangelists commenced their 
 public labors, selecting Brooklyn, N. Y., 
 as their first field. No church edifice, 
 however, in that city, having the seating 
 capacity to accommodate the throng of 
 people who desired to listen to Mr. Moody's 
 powerful exhortations and Mr. Sankey's 
 
GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WOULD. 
 
 467 
 
 sinking, the large structure known as the 
 rink, on Cluriiiout avenue, was fitted up 
 for this purpose. It accommodated five 
 thousand persons. The interior of this 
 vast building, as viewed from the platform, 
 a large semi-circular dais, was in the high- 
 est degree inspiring. Mr. Moody 's posi- 
 tion, when speaking, was at the center of 
 this platform, in front ; on his left were 
 seats for visiting clergymen ; on his right, 
 in front, was Mr. Sankey's position, at a 
 small organ, on which lie played the ac- 
 companiment to his admirable rendering 
 of the hymns which formed such a marked 
 and helpful feature of these services. It 
 was in this rink, that, day after day and 
 night after night, for successive weeks, 
 dense throngs assembled, and discourse, 
 song, and prayer united to bring thousands 
 of hearts to religious consecration. Out- 
 door meetings, as well as meetings in the 
 neighboring churches, were also held daily, 
 with the most beneficial results, the pastors 
 joining heartily in the work, and, in 
 fact, all over the land, the stimulus to 
 renewed zeal and activity in spiritual 
 things, received from this source, was 
 most decided. 
 
 Commencing in Brooklyn, October 24th, 
 and continuing some weeks, only a brief 
 interval elapsed before the revivalists com- 
 menced their labors in Philadelphia, 
 namely, on Sunday morning, November 
 21st, the meetings being held in the old 
 freight depot, at Thirteenth and Market 
 streets, which had been fitted up for this 
 use. The inclemency of the weather did 
 not prevent the assembling of at least ten 
 thousand persons at the opening services, 
 including hundreds of prominent persons. 
 Indeed, long before the hour of opening, 
 the streets leading to the building were 
 alive with people of every age and condi- 
 tion, and of both sexes ; thousands came 
 by the various lines of passenger railway 
 running by or near the spot, and other 
 thousands wended their way thither on 
 foot, many of them coming weary dis- 
 tances. Within the building, the sight of 
 such a vast sea of humanity now eager to 
 catch the earnest words of the speaker, 
 
 and, again, with heads bowed in solemn 
 prayer was most impressive ; nor was 
 it less so, when, under Mr. Sankey's in- 
 spiring leadership, the joyous multitude 
 united in singing those sweet and favorite 
 songs, "Hold the Fort," "The Ninety and 
 Nine," " Jesus of Nazareth Passeth by/ 
 etc. The interest and enthusiasm in these 
 meetings continued without abatement io> 
 consecutive weeks, not the least interested 
 among the attendants, during one of the 
 December sessions, being President Grant, 
 with members of his cabinet. 
 
 New York city was the next field of 
 labor chosen by the evangelists, the hippo- 
 drome being chosen by the Young Men's 
 Christian Association of that city, for the 
 meetings, the opening one taking place 
 February 4, 1876. Both halls, the larger 
 containing seven thousand persons, and 
 the smaller, containing four thousand 
 were filled, and several thousand persons 
 more stood outside. Distinguished preach- 
 ers occupied the platform ; a choir of 
 twelve hundred voices conducted the sing- 
 ing; Mr. Moody preached with great 
 power; and the spectacle altogether was 
 truly sublime. Mr. Sankey carried all 
 hearts with him while he sang " Hold the 
 Fort," the people joining in the chorus. 
 There was not only no diminution in 
 enthusiasm or attendance while the meet- 
 ings were in progress, but rain and storm 
 offered no obstacle to the pressing throngs. 
 Mr. Moody gained favor constantly by the 
 judicious judgment which he showed in 
 his management both of the people and 
 himself; and when, on one occasion, he 
 said, "I want no false excitement," the 
 expressions of approval were unmistakar 
 ble. On Sunday, February 13th, the en- 
 tire attendance was estimated to be fron 
 twenty to twenty-five thousand ; even a 
 early as eight o'clock, A. M., at a special 
 meeting for Christians, the admission 
 being by ticket, over four thousand per- 
 sons were present; at three o'clock, p. M., 
 a meeting specially for women was at- 
 tended by more than six thousand of them ; 
 and in the evening, when men alone were 
 admitted, the audience numbered some ten 
 
468 
 
 GREAT AWAKENING IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. 
 
 thousand. At all these services the order 
 was perfect, and all hearts seemed in 
 accord. Though a Roman Catholic, Dom 
 Pedro, emperor of Brazil, being in the 
 city on his American tour, during the 
 holding of the meetings, became an audi- 
 tor, and was not only deeply moved by 
 
 such a vast and unusual spectacle, but 
 expressed his admiration of Mr. Moody's 
 fervid preaching and Mr. Sankey's beauti- 
 ful songs. The New York meetings were 
 succeeded by visits from the evangelists to 
 the south and west, with the most benefi- 
 cial results. 
 
LTII. 
 
 POLITICAL DEBATE BETWEEN ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND 
 STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS, IN ILLINOIS. 1858. 
 
 Cause of this Remarkable Oratorical Contest. Intense Interest in All Parts of the Land. the Heart of 
 Every American Citizen Enlisted in the Momentous Issue Involved. Eminent Character of the Com- 
 batants. their Extraordinary Ability and Eloquence Universally Acknowledged. the Discussions 
 Attended by Friends and Foes. Victory, Defeat, Life and Death. Condition of the New Territories. 
 Form of Constitution to be Decided. Domestic Institutions : Slavery. Mr. Douglas Advocates " Popu- 
 lar Sovereignty." " Prohibition " Urged by Mr. Lincoln. National Importance of the Question. The 
 Public Mind Divided. Joint Debates Proposed. Agreement between the two Leaders. Personal Ap- 
 pearance and Style. Plans, Places, Scenes. Theories and Arguments Advanced. Skill and Adroit- 
 ness of the Disputants. Immense Concourses. Result Impartially Stated. Mr. Douglas Re-elected 
 Senator. Mr. Lincoln Nominated for President. His Election to that Office. Douglas' Magnanimity. 
 The Olive Branch. Shoulder to Shoulder as Unionists. Sudden Decease of the Great Senator. 
 
 i regard Lincoln M kind. amiable, and Intelligent gentleman, a good citizen, and an honorable opponent.* JUDOK DotTOLAS. 
 "Tiie nun who itumpa a State with Stephen A. Douglai, and meeti him, day after day, before the people, haa got to be no fool.' 
 
 BOEACK QKKBLST. 
 
 THE tremendous political excitement which convulsed the nation in 1858, 
 growing out of the agitation of the slavery 
 question, in its relation to the vast terri- 
 tories of Kansas and Nebraska, found two 
 of the most able and conspicuous men 
 in the great west, and especially Illinois, 
 pitted against each other in the discussion 
 of that issue, representing, respectively, 
 the two prevailing political parties in pub- 
 lic affairs, and the interest created by 
 this fact throughout that region, and, in- 
 deed, from one end of the whole land to 
 the other, was still farther heightened by 
 those two gentlemen being not only candi- 
 dates the one of the democratic and the 
 other of the anti-slavery party for the 
 senatorial seat of that State in the capitol 
 at Washington, but their names were also 
 looming up in the near presidential horizon of 1860. 
 
 The question at issue was immense permanent not transient universal not local, 
 
 STATE CAPITOL OF ILLISOIS. 
 
470 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS 
 
 and the debate attracted profound atten- 
 tion on the part of the people, whether 
 democratic or free soil, from the Kennebec 
 to the Rio Grande. Briefly stated, Mr. 
 Douglas took the position in this contro- 
 versy, that the vote of a majority of the 
 
 man were closely scanned. Finally, after 
 the true western style, a joint discussion, 
 face to face, between Lincoln and Douglas, 
 as the two great representative leaders, 
 was proposed and agreed to, seven public 
 debates, one each at Ottawa, Freeport, 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 people of a territory should decide this as 
 well as all other questions concerning their 
 domestic or internal affairs, and this theory 
 came to be known as that of " Popular 
 Sovereignty." Mr. Lincoln, on the con- 
 trary, urged in substance, the necessity 
 of an organic enactment excluding slavery 
 in any form, this latter to be the condi- 
 tion of its admission into the Union as a 
 State. 
 
 The public mind was divided, and the 
 utterances and movements of every public 
 
 Jonesboro", Charleston, Galfshm-g, Quincy, 
 and Alton, the seven oratorical tourna- 
 ments being thus held in all quarters of 
 the state, from the extreme of one point 
 of the compass to the extreme of the op- 
 posite, and everywhere the different par- 
 ties turned out to do honor to their cham- 
 pions. Processions and cavalcades, bands 
 of music and cannon-firing, made every 
 day a day of excitement But far greater 
 was the excitement of such oratorical con- 
 tests between two such skilled debaters, 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 471 
 
 before mixed audiences of friends and foes, 
 to rejoice over every keen thrust at the 
 adversary, ajid, again, to he cast down by 
 each failure to "give hack as good," or to 
 parry the thrust so aimed. 
 
 In person, appearance, voice, gesture, 
 and general platform style and impres- 
 sion, nothing COold exceed the dissimilarity 
 of these two speakers. Mr. Douglas 
 possessed a natural build or frame and 
 physique uncommonly attractive, a pres- 
 ence which would have gained for him 
 access to the highest circles, however 
 courtly, in any land; a thick-set, finely- 
 built, courageous man, with an air, as 
 natural to him as his breath, of self-con- 
 fidence that did not a little to inspire his 
 supporters with hope. That he was every 
 inch a man, no friend or foe ever ques- 
 tioned. Eeady, forceful, animated, keen 
 and trenchant, as well as playful, by turns, 
 and thoroughly unartificial, he was one of 
 the most admirable platform speakers that 
 ever appeared before an American audi- 
 ence, his personal^ geniality, too, being 
 so abounding, that, excepting in a polit- 
 ical sense, no antagonism existed between 
 him and his opponent. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln's personal appearance was 
 in unique contrast with that presented by 
 Mr. Douglas. He stood about six feet 
 and four inches high in his stockings ; 
 long lean, and wiry ; in motion, he had a 
 great deal of the elasticity and awkward- 
 ness which indicated the rough training 
 of his early life ; his face genial looking, 
 with good humor lurking in every corner 
 of its innumerable angles. As a speaker 
 he was ready, precise, fluent, and his man- 
 ner before a popular assembly was just as 
 he pleased to make it, being either superla- 
 tively ludicrous, or very impressive. He 
 employed but little gesticulation, but, 
 when desiring to make a point, produced 
 a shrug of the shoulders, an elevation of 
 his eyebrows, a depression of his mouth, 
 and a general malformation of countenance 
 so comically awkward that it never failed 
 to 'bring down the house.' His enuncia- 
 tion was slow and emphatic, and his voice, 
 though sharp and powerful, at times had 
 
 a tendency to dwindle into a shrill and 
 unpleasant sound. In this matter of voice 
 and of commanding attitude, so as to af- 
 fect the multitude, the odds were quite in 
 favor of Mr. Douglas. 
 
 The arrangements, places, etc., for the 
 great debate, having, as alread}' remarked, 
 been perfected, the first discussion took I 
 place, August 21st, at Ottawa, in La Salle 
 county, a strong republican district. The 
 crowd in attendance was a large one, and 
 about equally divided in political senti- 
 ment the enthusiasm of the democracy 
 having brought out more than a due pro- 
 portion, if anything, of that party, to hear 
 and see their favorite leader, Douglas. 
 His thrilling tones, his manly defiance to- 
 wards the enemies of the party, assured 
 his friends, if any assurance were wanting, 
 that he was the same unconquered and 
 unconquerable democrat that for twenty- 
 five years he had proved to be. Douglas 
 opened the discussion and spoke one hour; 
 Lincoln followed, the time assigned him 
 being an hour and a half, though he 
 yielded a portion of it before the expira- 
 tion of its limit. 
 
 In this first debate, Mr. Douglas ar- 
 raigned his opponent for the expression 
 in a former speech of " a house divided 
 against itself," etc., referring to the 
 slavery and anti-slavery sections of the 
 country ; and Mr. Lincoln reiterated and 
 defended his assertions on that subject. 
 It was not until the second meeting, how- 
 ever, and those held subsequently, that 
 the debaters grappled with those profound 
 constitutional questions and measures of 
 administration which were so soon to con- 
 vulse the whole land and cause it to stag- 
 ger almost to the verge of destruction. 
 But, as Mr. Lincoln's position in relation 
 to one or two points growing out of the 
 former speech referred to had attracted 
 great attention throughout the country, 
 he availed himself of the opportunity of 
 this preliminary meeting to reply to what 
 he regarded as common misconceptions. 
 'Anything,' he said, ' that argues me into 
 the idea of perfect social and political 
 equality with the negro, is but a specious 
 
 
472 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 and fantastic arrangement of words, by 
 which a man can prove a horse-chestnut 
 to be a chestnut horse. I will say here, 
 while upon this subject, that I have no 
 purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere 
 with the institution of slavery in the 
 states where it now exists. I believe I 
 have no lawful right to do so, and I have 
 no inclination to do so. I have no pur- 
 pose to introduce political and social 
 equality between the white and the black 
 races. There is a physical difference be- 
 tween the two, which, in my judgment, 
 will probably forever forbid their living 
 together upon a footing of perfect equal- 
 ity, and inasmuch as it becomes a matter 
 of necessity that there must be a differ- 
 ence, I, as well as Judge Douglas, am in 
 favor of the race to which I belong having 
 the superior position. I have never said 
 anything to the contrary, but I hold that, 
 notwithstanding all this, there is no rea- 
 son in the world why the negro is not en- 
 titled to all the natural rights enumerated 
 in the Declaration of Independence the 
 right to life, liberty, and the pursuits of 
 happiness. I hold that he is as much en- 
 titled to these as the white man. I agree 
 with Judge Douglas he is not my equal in 
 many respec's certainly not in color, 
 perhaps not in moral or intellectual en- 
 dowment. But, in the right to eat the 
 bread, without the leave of any one else, 
 which his own hand earns, he is my equal, 
 and the equal of Judge Douglas, and the 
 equal of every living man.' 
 
 Touching the question of respect or 
 weight of opinion due to deliverances of 
 the United States Supreme Court, an 
 element which entered largely into this 
 national contest, Mr. Lincoln said : 
 ' This man sticks to a decision which for- 
 bids the people of a territory from exclud- 
 ing slavery, and he does so not because he 
 says it is right in itself he does not give 
 any opinion on that, but because it has 
 been decided by the court, and being de- 
 cided by the court, he is, and you are 
 bound to take it in your political action 
 as law ; not that he judges at all of its 
 merits, but because a decision of the court 
 
 is to him a ' Thus saith the Lord.' He 
 places it on that ground alone, and you 
 will bear in mind that, thus committing 
 himself unreservedly to this decision, com- 
 mits him to the next one just as firmly as 
 to this. He did not commit himself on 
 account of the merit or demerit of the de- 
 cision, but it is a ' Thus saith the Lord.' 
 The next decision, as much as this, will 
 be a ' Thus saith the Lord.' There is 
 nothing that can divert or turn him away 
 from this decision. It is nothing that I 
 point out to him that his great prototype, 
 Gen Jackson, did not believe in the 
 binding force of deci.-ions, it is nothing 
 to him that Jefferson did not so be- 
 lieve. I have said that I have often heard 
 him approve of Jackson's course in disre- 
 garding the decision of the Supreme Court 
 pronouncing a National Bank unconstitu- 
 tional. He says I did not hear him say 
 so ; he denies the accuracy of my recollec- 
 tion. I say he ought to know better than 
 I, but I will make no question about this 
 thing, though it still seems to me that I 
 heard him say it twenty times. I will 
 tell him though, that he now claims to 
 stand on the Cincinnati platform, which 
 affirms that Congress cannot charter a 
 National Bank, in the teeth of that old 
 standing decision that Congress can char- 
 ter a bank. And I remind him of another 
 piece of history on the question of respect 
 for judicial decisions, and it is a piece of 
 Illinois history belonging to a time when 
 the large party to which Judge Douglas be- 
 longed were displeased with a decision of 
 the Supreme Court of Illinois, because 
 they had decided that a Governor could 
 not remove a Secretary of State. I know 
 that Judge Douglas will not deny that he 
 was then in favor of overslaughing that 
 decision by the mode of adding five new 
 judges, so as to vote down the four old 
 ones. Not only so, but it ended in the 
 Judge's sitting down on that very bench 
 as one of the five new judges to break down 
 the four old ones'. In this strain Mr. 
 Lincoln occupied most of his time. 
 
 But, if the opponents of Judge Douglas 
 were elated at the animated effort put 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 473 
 
 forth by his rival, at Ottawa the debate 
 which followed at Freeport gave ample op- 
 portunity for the Judge to exhibit his 
 great intellectual prowess, nor did he fail 
 to improve it. 
 
 At this meeting, Mr. Lincoln pro- 
 pounded certain questions, and to these 
 prompt and vigorous response was made. 
 ' He desires to know, If the people of 
 Kansas shall form a Constitution by 
 means entirely proper and unobjectionable, 
 and ask admission into the Union as a 
 state before they have the requisite popu- 
 lation for a member of Congress, whether 
 I will vote for that admission ? Well, 
 now, I regret exceedingly that he did not 
 answer that interrogatory himself before 
 he put it to me, in order that we might 
 understand, and not be left to infer, on 
 which side he is. Mr. Trumbull, during 
 the last session of Congress, voted from 
 the beginning to the end against the ad- 
 mission of Oregon, although a free state, 
 because she had not the requisite popula- 
 tion for a member of Congress. Mr. 
 Trumbull would not, under any circum- 
 stances, consent to let a state, free or 
 slave, come into the Union until it had 
 the requisite population. As Mr. Trum- 
 bull is in the field fighting for Mr. Lin- 
 coln, I would like to have Mr. Lincoln 
 answer his own question, and tell me 
 whether he is fighting Trumbull on that 
 issue or not. But I will answer his ques- 
 tion. In reference to Kansas, it is my 
 opinion that, as she has population enough 
 to constitute a slave state, she has people 
 enough for a free state. I will not make 
 Kansas an exceptional case to the other 
 states of the Union. I hold it to be a 
 sound rule, of universal application, to re- 
 quire a territory to contain the requisite 
 population for a member of Congress be- 
 fore it is admitted as a state into the 
 Union. I made that proposition in the 
 Senate in 1856, and I renewed it during 
 the last session, in a bill providing that no 
 territory of the United States should form 
 a Constitution and apply for admission 
 until it had the requisite population. On 
 another occasion, I proposed that neither 
 
 Kansas, nor any other territory, should be 
 admitted until it had the requisite popula- 
 tion. Congress did not adopt any of my 
 propositions containing this general rule, 
 but did make an exception of Kansas. I 
 will stand by that exception. Either 
 Kansas must come in as a free state, with 
 whatever population she may have, or the 
 rule must be applied to all the other ter- 
 ritories alike.' 
 
 Mr. Douglas next proceeded to answer 
 another question proposed by Mr. Lincoln, 
 namely, Whether the people of a territory 
 can in any lawful way, against the wishes 
 of any citizen of the United States, ex- 
 clude slavery from their limits prior to the 
 formation of a -state Constitution. Said 
 Mr. Douglas : ' I answer emphatically, 
 as Mr. Lincoln has heard me answer a 
 hundred times from every stump in Illi- 
 nois, that in my opinion the people of a 
 territory can, \>y lawful means, exclude 
 slavery from their limits prior to the forma- 
 tion of a state Constitution. Mr. Lincoln 
 knew that I had answered that question 
 over and over again. He heard me argue 
 the Nebraska Bill on that principle all over 
 the state in 1854, in 1855, and in 1856, and 
 he has no excuse'for pretending to be in 
 doubt as to my position on that question. 
 It matters not what way the Supreme 
 Court may hereafter decide as to the ab* 
 stract question whether slavery may or 
 may not go into a territory under the Con- 
 stitution, the people have the lawful means 
 to introduce it or exclude it as they please, 
 for the reason that slavery cannot exist a 
 day or an hour unless it is supported by 
 local police regulations. Those police 
 regulations can only be established by the 
 local legislature, and if the people are op? 
 posed to slavery they will elect represent* 
 tives to that body who will, by unfriendly 
 legislation, effectually prevent the intro- 
 duction of it into their midst. If, on the 
 contrary, they are for it, their legislation 
 will favor its extension. Hence, no mat- 
 ter what the decision of the Supreme Court 
 may be on that abstract question, still the 
 right of the people to make a slave terri- 
 tory or a free territory is perfect and com- 
 
474 
 
 DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 plete under the Nebraska Bill.' This 
 right or freedom of the people thus to act, 
 and which Mr. Douglas so strenuously ad- 
 vocated, was commonly termed ' Popular 
 Sovereignty,' and, as one of the battle- 
 cries in the great contests, was most ef- 
 fectively used. 
 
 One of the most interesting features of 
 this memorable debate, covering as it did 
 almost the whole issue involved in the 
 canvass, consisted of the following inter- 
 rogatories propounded by Mr. Douglas, 
 and II r Lincoln's replies: 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I desire to know whether 
 Lincoln to-day stands, as he did in 1854, 
 in favor of the unconditional repeal of the 
 Fugitive Slave law ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I do not now, nor ever 
 did, stand in favor of the unconditional 
 repeal of the Fugitive Slave law 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I desire him to answer 
 whether he stands pledged to-day, as he 
 did in 1854, against the admission of any 
 more slave states into the Union, even if 
 the people want them ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I do not now, or ever 
 did, stand pledged against the admission 
 of any more slave states into the Union. 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I want to know whether 
 he stands pledged against the admission 
 of a new state into the Union with such a 
 Constitution as the people of that state 
 may see fit to make ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I do not stand pledged 
 against the admission of a new state into 
 the Union, with such a Constitution as 
 the people of that state may see fit to 
 make. 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I want to know whether 
 he stands to-day pledged to the abolition 
 of slavery in the District of Columbia ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I do not stand to-day 
 pledged to the abolition of slavery in the 
 District of Columbia. 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I desire him to answer 
 whether he stands pledged to the prohibi- 
 tion of the slave-trade between the differ- 
 ent states ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I do not stand pledged 
 to the prohibition of the slave-trade be- 
 tween the different states. 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I desire to know whether 
 he stands pledged to prohibit slavery in 
 all the territories of the United States, 
 North as well as South of the Missouri 
 Compromise line ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I am impliedly, if not 
 expressly, pledged to a belief in the right 
 and duty of Congress to prohibit slavery 
 in all the United States territories. 
 
 Mr. Douglas : I desire him to answer 
 whether he is opposed to the acquisition 
 of any new territory unless slavery is first 
 prohibited therein ? 
 
 Mr. Lincoln : I am not generally op- 
 posed to honest acquisition of territory ; 
 and, in any given case, I would or would 
 not oppose such acquisition, according as 
 I might think such acquisition would or 
 would not aggravate the slavery question 
 among ourselves. 
 
 It was with great vigor and adroitness 
 that the two distinguished combatants 
 went over the ground covered by the above 
 questions, at the remaining five places of 
 debate, all of which were attended and 
 
 listened to by immense concourses. On 
 both sides the speeches were able, elo- 
 quent, exhaustive. It was admitted by 
 Lincoln's friends, that, on several occa- 
 sions, he was partly foiled or, at least, 
 badly bothered, while, on the other hand, 
 
DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. 
 
 475 
 
 Douglas' admirers allowed that, in more 
 than one instance, he was flatly and fairly 
 floored by Lincoln's logic, wit, good hu- 
 mor and frankness. Douglas, while more 
 brusque and resolute, was also rather the 
 superior of the two in a certain force, direct- 
 ness and determination, that greatly helped 
 his side. But it was, altogether, about an 
 equal match in respect to the ability dis- 
 played by these foremost champions. Both 
 of them were self-made men ; both of 
 them able lawyers and politicians ; both 
 sprang from obscurity to distinction ; both 
 belonged to the common people ; and both 
 were strong and popular with the masses. 
 The portrait which we give of Mr. Doug- 
 las (Mr. Lincoln's will be found in another 
 part of this volume) represents him at this 
 victorious stage in his career. 
 
 As for the result, Lincoln took more of 
 the popular vote than Douglas, but the 
 latter secured a majority in the legislature, 
 sufficient to insure his re-election to the 
 United States senate, and this majority 
 
 would probably have been greater, but for 
 the hostility towards him of a certain por- 
 tion of his own party, who favored a more 
 thorough southern or pro-slavery policy 
 than Douglas would consent to. 
 
 In May, 1860, the [Republican Nomi- 
 nating Convention met at Chicago, 111., and 
 after successive ballots, Mr. Lincoln was 
 chosen standard-bearer of the party in the 
 presidential contest. His election followed 
 in November ensuing. Mr. Douglas failed 
 of a nomination at the Democratic conven- 
 tion. Secession raised its gory front. 
 Forgetting past differences, Douglas mag- 
 nanimously stood shoulder to shoulder 
 with Lincoln in behalf of the Union. It- 
 was the olive branch of genuine patriotism. 
 But, while proudly holding aloft the ban- 
 ner of his country in the councils of the 
 nation, and while yet the blood of his 
 countrymen had not drenched the land, 
 the great senator was suddenly stricken 
 from among the living, in the hour of the 
 republic's greatest need. 
 
Lvm. 
 
 PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 1859- 
 
 Discovery of Prodigious Quantities of Illuminating Oil in the Depths of the Earth. Boring of Innu- 
 merable Wells. Fabulous Prices Paid for Lands. Poor Farmers Become Millionaires. The Supply 
 of Oil Exceeds the Wants of the Whole Country. Immense Exportation of the Article. Vast 
 Source of National Wealth and Industry. Revolution in Artificial Light. Ancient Knowledge of 
 tliis Oil. Floating on Ponds and Creeks Its Collection and Use. Native Sources : Origin. Local- 
 ity of the Springs Great Value of the Oil First Attempt at Boring. Plans for Sinking Wells. 
 Their Exhaustless Yield. Intense Excitement Prevails. Eager Crowds at the Oil Region. Buying 
 and Leasing Lands. Enterprise of the Pioneers. Sudden Fortunes Made. Other Side of the Pic- 
 ture. Towns and Cities Built Fire : Awful Scenes and Losses. Bringing the Oil into Market. 
 Its Cheapness and Excellence. Universal Introduction. Valuable for Various Purposes. 
 
 * The rock poured me out river* of oil. "-JOB. 
 
 ICHEE, than the gold mines of California, in the qualities of 
 usefulness and convenience to the human race, are the oil 
 wells which, so unexpectedly to the country 
 and the world, spouted forth their liquid 
 treasures from the bowels of the earth, in the 
 year 1859, and in such quantities as soon to 
 revolutionize both the material and mode of 
 artificial illumination, bringing untold 
 wealth into regions hitherto comparatively 
 valueless, creating, almost as if by magic, 
 new, vast, and profitable industries, and 
 well-nigh realizing the wildest conceptions of 
 sudden and golden fortune found in Arabian 
 legends. 
 
 But, even long prior to the year just named, the existence of this 
 oleaginous substance vas known at the head-waters of the Alleghany 
 river in New York and Pennsylvania. A writer in the American 
 Cyclopedia states that the Indians collected it on the shores of Seneca 
 lake, and it was sold as a medicine by the name of Seneca or Genesee oil. A stream in 
 Alleghany county, New York, was named Oil creek, in consequence of the appearance 
 of oil in its banks ; and the same name was given to another branch of the Alleghany 
 river in Venango county, Pennsylvania. Several localities are designated upon the old 
 maps of this part of the country as affording oil; and upon Oil creek in Venango 
 county, two spots were particularly noted, one of which was close to the north line of the 
 county, and one about twelve miles further down the stream. At these points, springs 
 
PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 477 
 
 issued from the banks of the stream, bring- 
 ing up more or less oil, which collected 
 upon the surface of the water as it stood 
 in the pools below the springs. The 
 inhabitants were accustomed to collect the 
 oil by spreading woolen cloths upon the 
 water, and wringing them when saturated. 
 Down the valley of this creek there are 
 numerous ancient pits which appear to 
 have been excavated for the purpose of 
 collecting oil, but by whom made no one 
 can now tell. From the fact that logs have 
 been found in them notched as if with an 
 axe, some have supposed that the work was 
 done by the French, who occupied this 
 region in the early part of the last century ; 
 but others believe that the Indians, who 
 are known to have valued the oil, dug the 
 pits. Day, in his history of Pennsylvania, 
 gives an account of the estimadon in which 
 they held this product, using it mixed with 
 paint to anoint themselves for war, and 
 also employing it in their religious rites. 
 He quotes an interesting letter from the 
 commander of Fort Duquesne to General 
 Montcalm, describing an assembly of the 
 Indians by night on the banks of the creek, 
 and in the midst of the ceremonies their 
 firing the scum of oil that had collected 
 upon the surface of the water. As the 
 flames burst forth, illuminating the dark 
 valley, there rose from the Indians around 
 triumphant shouts that made the hills 
 re-echo again. 
 
 As early as 1826, the knowledge that 
 such a natural illuminating substance ex- 
 isted on the Little Muskingum river, in 
 Ohio, was quite general, on account of its 
 appearance in the wells that were bored in 
 that region for the purpose of obtaining 
 salt. In a communication to the American 
 Journal of Science for the year 1826, by 
 Doctor Hildreth, he says : They have sunk 
 two wells, which are now more than four 
 hundred feet in depth ; one of them affords 
 a very strong and pure water, but not in 
 great quanti ty. The other discharges such 
 yast quantities of petroleum, or, as it is 
 vulgarly called, ' Seneka oil,' and beside is 
 subject to such tremendous explosions of 
 gas as to force out all the water and afford 
 
 nothing but gas for several days, that they 
 make but little or no salt. Nevertheless, 
 the petroleum affords considerable profit, 
 and is beginning to be in demand for lamps 
 in workshops and manufactories. It affords 
 a brisk, clear light, when burnt in this way, 
 and will be a valuable article for lighting 
 the street-lamps in the future cities of 
 Ohio. 
 
 So useful was the product of the oil 
 springs gradually found to be, that, in 
 1854, the Pennsylvania Eock Oil Company 
 was formed. It is said, by a writer 
 thoroughly conversant with the subject, 
 and from whose well-stored pamphlet, 
 "The Petroleum Region of America," 
 much of the information here given is 
 drawn, that this was the first oil company 
 ever formed, and was also prior to the sink- 
 ing of any well, and before any such thing 
 was suggested. Great quantities of the 
 oil had, however, been collected during the 
 year 1853, by absorbing it in blankets, 
 and wringing it out, a method originated 
 by Dr. F. B. Brewer, of the eminent firm 
 of Brewer, Watson & Co., so conspicuous 
 in their efforts to develop the wonderful 
 resources of the oil region. The Pennsyl- 
 vania Rock Oil Company purchased one 
 hundred acres of land on Oil Creek, below 
 Titusville, for the purpose of collecting 
 tho surface oil, but the project was in a 
 short time abandoned. 
 
 No important progress took place in the 
 business until the winter of 1857, when 
 Col. E. L. Drake, of Connecticut, arrived 
 at Titusville, and he was the first man who 
 attempted to bore for oil. In December, 
 1857, he visited Titusville, examined the 
 oil springs, and gave the subject of sur- 
 face oil a thorough investigation. He 
 soon concluded that rock oil could be ob- 
 tained by sinking a well ; and acting upon 
 this, he, in company with James M. Town- 
 send and E. B. Bowditch, leased the lands 
 of the Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company, 
 for the term of twenty-five years, for the 
 purpose of boring for oil. The operations 
 were to commence the following spring. 
 Soon after closing this lease, Colonel 
 Drake and friends from Connecticut formed 
 
478 
 
 PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 <i company called the Seneca Oil Company, 
 for the purpose of working the lands and 
 sinking wells, under the management and 
 control of Colonel Drake. Early in the 
 spring he removed his lamily to Titusville, 
 then containing not over one hundred and 
 fifty inhabitants. He first informed him- 
 self thoroughly on the subject of boring, 
 and visited the salt-wells on the Alleghany 
 river for that purpose, where, after some 
 difficulty, he employed a man who agreed 
 to sink wells for the Seneca company; but 
 he and others to whom he had applied 
 failed to keep their engagements, and it 
 was not until the following spring, that he 
 could obtain a suitable person to commence 
 the well. 
 
 lying along the valley of Oil Creek and 
 its tributaries in Venango, Warren, and 
 Crawford counties. The Drake well the 
 first ever sunk for oil, and the first petro- 
 leum ever obtained by boring was imme- 
 diately thronged with visitors, and within 
 two or three weeks thousands began to 
 pour in from the neighboring states. 
 Everybody was eager to purchase or lease 
 oil-lands at any price demanded. Almost 
 in a night, a wilderness of derricks sprang 
 up and covered the entire bottom lands of 
 Oil Creek. Merchants abandoned their 
 storehouses, farmers dropped their ploughs, 
 lawyers deserted their offices, and preach- 
 ers their pulpits. The entire w r estern 
 part of the state, in especial, became so 
 
 PETROLEUM WELLS 
 
 Boring through forty-seven feet of 
 gravel and twenty-two feet of shale rocks, 
 with occasional small apertures in it, he 
 struck, on the twent3 - -ninth of August, 
 1859, at the depth of about seventy feet, 
 a large opening, filled with coal oil, some- 
 what mixed with water and gas. A small 
 pump on hand brought up from four 
 hundred to five hundred gallons of oil 
 a day. An explosion soon blew it up. 
 One of three times its size and power 
 was put in its place, and during the 
 first four days threw up five thousand 
 gallons of oil one thousand two hundred 
 and fifty gallons per day, or one gallon 
 per minute for twenty hours fifty minutes 
 per day. 
 
 And now commenced an intense excite- 
 ment in all the oil-region of Pennsylvania, 
 
 IN PENXSYLVANIA. 
 
 wild with excitement upon the subject, 
 that scarcely anything else was thought of. 
 Very soon after the success of Colonel 
 Drake, Messrs. Brewer, Watson & Co. 
 leased the farm of Hamilton M'Clintock, 
 and commenced a well on it, which was 
 successful at the depth of seventy feet; 
 then followed the sinking of many wells on 
 the different farms on Oil Creek. The 
 Barnsdell Mead and Rouse well was 
 opened in the spring of 1860; then the 
 Crosley well, in April of the same year. 
 During this summer, many wells were 
 opened in the vicinity of Tideoute on the 
 Alleghany river. In June, 1861, A. B. 
 Funk sunk a well four hundred and sev- 
 enty feet deep, on the M'lllheny farm, 
 which was the first large flowing well. 
 Then followed the Brewer, Watson & Co. 
 
PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 479 
 
 well on the G. "W. M'Clintock farm, the 
 Phillips well on the Tarr farm, the Willard 
 well on the H. M'Clintock farm, and the 
 Rouse, Mitchell, and Brown well on the 
 Buchanan farm. This latter well flowed a 
 stream of oil without pumping, equal to 
 one thousand barrels per day. In every 
 direction, new borings were undertaken, 
 and new discoveries of flowing wells were 
 made, almost daily ; while other regions of 
 similar geological structure were carefully 
 explored for evidence of their capacity for 
 producing oil. Soon there were oil-wells, 
 either pumping or flowing, yielding 
 considerable quantities, in Western Vir- 
 ginia, Kentucky, Ohio, and Canada; and, 
 subsequently, discoveries were made of the 
 existence of petroleum in large quantities 
 in California and in some of the north- 
 western states. At first, vast quantities 
 of oil flowed into the creek 
 and were wasted, before suit- 
 able tanks could be prepared 
 to receive it; but after a 
 while, the flowing wells were 
 fitted with strong tubing 
 and stop-cocks, by means of 
 which the supply was en- 
 tirely controlled. 
 
 As might well be expected, the owners 
 of farms in the oil-regions believed that 
 the fortune of almost unlimited wealth had 
 now smiled upon them, and (says Eaton, 
 in his exhaustive and invaluable work on 
 the subject,) the price of lands throughout 
 its whole extent, from the new well to the 
 Alleghany, immediately rose to a very high 
 figure. Sometimes entire farms were sold, 
 but generally they were leased in quite 
 small lots. The terms of lease were at 
 first easy, the operators giving one-fourth 
 or one-fifth of the oil as a royalty to the 
 owner of the soil. Gradually, the terms 
 became more exacting, until not unfre- 
 quently one-half and even five-eighths of 
 the oil was demanded, with the addition of 
 a considerable sum of money as a bonus. 
 Sometimes the proprietor of the soil re- 
 quired the proposed operator to furnish 
 him his share in barrels ; that is, not only 
 turning him over a third or a half of the 
 
 oil, but furnishing him the barrels to con- 
 tain it. With this arrangement, it after- 
 wards came about that, as the price of oil 
 fell and the price of barrels advanced, the 
 entire proceeds of some wells would hardly 
 purchase barrels to contain the royalty 
 share pertaining to the owner of the land. 
 The leasing of land for oil purposes 
 amounted, at one time, to a monopoly, in 
 
 PROCESS OF BOBLXQ FOB PETROLEUM. 
 
 some sections of the oil valley. The land- 
 holders in many places were men in very 
 moderate circumstances. By great fru- 
 gality, they had been able to live comfort- 
 ably, but had no extra means with which 
 to embark in speculations. Sometimes 
 they had neither taste nor energy for this 
 business, or lacked frith in the general 
 result, but were willing that others should 
 embark in the business by sharing the 
 
480 
 
 PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 profits with them. In this state of affairs, 
 shrewd and enterprising men made a busi- 
 ness, for a time, of leasing all the lands in 
 certain L-calities, with no intention of oper- 
 ating themselves, but with the design of 
 sub-leasing to real operators. 
 
 In the midst of the excitement occa- 
 sioned by the prodigious success of the 
 Rouse well, the gas and oil issuing there- 
 from took fire from some unknown cause, 
 and, as described by an unknown witness, 
 columns of black smoke rolled upward into 
 the air, the blazing oil leaped heavenward, 
 and, falling over on all sides from the fiery 
 jet, formed a magnificent fountain of liquid 
 fire. The sight was awfully grand, but, 
 sad to relate, involved a most melancholy 
 loss of life, no less Than nineteen human 
 beings meeting their death in the flames. 
 The scenes of terror and woe accompany- 
 ing such a catastrophe can be better imag- 
 ined than described. Among the victims 
 of this destructive occurrence was Mr. 
 Rouse, one of th3 proprietors of the well 
 and a very prominent man in the oil 
 region. Mr. Rouse lived for several days 
 after being injured, and, in framing his 
 will, after making certain bequests, left to 
 the county of Warren a handsome sum 
 subsequently reaching one hundred and 
 fifty thousand dollars in value, to be 
 applied one-half for road purposes and one- 
 half to the poor of the county. 
 
 Other terrible scenes caused by the com- 
 bustion of the oil and gas in the wells, 
 of natural or accidental origin, though 
 happily not involving loss of life, have 
 occurred firom time to time in the oil 
 regions. The phenomenon of the "burn- 
 ing well ' has been often described as one 
 of those grand and amazing exhibitions to 
 be found wily within the arena of nature's 
 kingdom. Before approaching near enough 
 to see tlte well, (says an eye witness,) the 
 observei's ears were saluted with a roaring 
 sound similar to that of the Geysers in 
 Iceland, and seemingly due to the rush of 
 gas from the depths below, or from the 
 flame itself as it rises high in the air. 
 The well was of course bored for oil. It 
 had reached a depth of some five hundred 
 
 feet, when the immense column of gas 
 rushed up and became ignited from the 
 furnace of the engine. Soon, of course, 
 the derrick, engine-house, and fixtures 
 were consumed, and the engine itself a 
 wreck. An attempt was made to fill up 
 the pit with earth and extinguish the 
 flames. But this proved a failure, as the 
 pressure of the gas was so great that it 
 rushed through the loose earth in a thou- 
 sand jets, the result being that a column 
 of flame constantly emerged from the pit 
 equal to its size about eight feet square ; 
 this column rose to a height of from fifty 
 to one hundred feet, varying every few 
 seconds from the minimum to the maxi- 
 mum height. The pillar, rough and jagged 
 in form, and sometimes divided, sent out 
 its tongues of flame in every direction. 
 As it reached its greatest height, the top 
 of the flame leaped off and was extin- 
 guished. This was the appearance in 
 daylight. At night, the appearance was 
 awfully grand and imposing. Every three 
 or four seconds, a cloud of dark smoke 
 rolled up with the flames, and, after being 
 swept to its very summit, disappeared. 
 Some visitors computed the height at one 
 hundred and fifty feet. The roaring sound 
 was constant, and almost resembled that 
 of distant thunder. For successive weeks, 
 the well continued to burn, with no appar- 
 ent diminution in its power, or in the 
 quantity of gas. At one time, the phe- 
 nomenon assumed a very strange appear- 
 ance. The atmosphere was somewhat 
 cloudy, and, in addition to the usual ruddy 
 glow, the light appeared to concentrate 
 itself into a bright lance-like figure, about 
 four or five degrees in length, that re- 
 mained stationary about midway between 
 the horizon and the zenith, where it con- 
 tinued all the evening. Immense destruc- 
 tion of oil and other property, by fire, has, 
 in fact, taken place in almost every part of 
 the petroleum region, from the very first, 
 and in spite of every precaution. 
 
 The next large flowing well that waa 
 opened was the Empire, in the vicinity of 
 the Funk well, that flowed three thousand 
 barrels of oil per day. The Sherman well 
 
PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 481 
 
 was opened in April, 1862, then the Noble 
 and Delameter well in May, 1863. This 
 celebrated well was commenced in 1860, 
 and was bored to the depth of one hun- 
 dred and sixty-seven feet, and then aban- 
 doned. Mr. Noble went further down the 
 creek and became interested in other wells 
 on the Tarr farm, but in the spring of 
 1863 he re-commenced the work on his old 
 well, and went down to the depth of four 
 hundred and seventy-one feet, without, 
 however, any indications of oil. At that 
 depth he concluded to tube and pump, 
 abandoning the idea of obtaining a flowing 
 well, but, to the great astonishment of 
 himself and every one else, after pumping 
 a very short time, suddenly the great 
 Noble well commenced to flow. Long 
 before the opening of this well, petroleum 
 had become so plenty that most of the 
 pumping wells were abandoned. Every 
 person wanted a flowing well. 
 
 The discovery of a method of refining the 
 crude oil is said to be due to Mr. Samuel 
 M. Kier, of Pittsburg. Mr.W. H. Abbott, 
 of Titusville, erected the first large refin- 
 ery at Titusville, which was before the 
 days of railroads in that region. The 
 heavy iron castings and machinery were 
 brought in wagons from Union Mills and 
 Franklin, through mud that was axle-deep. 
 Parties interested with him became dis- 
 heartened, and would have abandoned the 
 enterprise had it not been for the energy 
 of Mr. Abbott, who finally succeeded in 
 completing his building. But the really 
 great pioneers in the introduction of petro- 
 leum in large quantities, were Brewer, 
 Watson & Co., whose enterprise was so 
 determined and untiring, that they ex- 
 pended neirly eight hundred thousand 
 dollars in cash for barrels alone, before 
 they realized one cent of profit. All they 
 required was the actual cost of the barrel. 
 They however ultimately reaped a rich 
 harvest from their arduous efforts in this 
 new field of business, and were handsomely 
 repaid for the hardships and trials through 
 which they had passed. During the sum- 
 mer of 1861, Samuel Downer, of Boston, 
 established a branch of his works and com- 
 
 menced the refining of oil at Corry, giving 
 his entire attention to the business, and 
 during that year his refinery absorbed 
 nearly all of the oil product. George M. 
 Mowbray, agent for Scheifflin & Co., of 
 New York, made the first extensive pur- 
 chase of petroleum for shipment. Messrs. 
 Drake, Watson, Brewer, Kier, Abbott, 
 Mowbray, Downer, the firm of Brewer, 
 Watson & Co., and others, exerted theii- 
 utmost endeavors to acquaint the public 
 with the value of the article, and to create 
 a demand equal to the supply ; but before 
 this could be accomplished, oil at the wells 
 was offered for sale at prices ranging from 
 ten to fifty cents a barrel. 
 
 In consequence of the abundant supply 
 of the oil, its cheapness, and the continued 
 small demand, the entire oil i-egions of 
 Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Ohio became, 
 for a while, almost wholly deserted, and 
 the then so-called " oil bubble " exploded. 
 Most of those who had taken leases and 
 had opened wells, now removed the tubing, 
 sold their engines, tools, etc., and retired 
 from the oil trade disgusted with their 
 enterprise, and, no doubt, much displeased 
 with themselves, returned to their deserted 
 homes to be ridiculed by the knowing 
 ones, who *' always said the undertaking 
 would prove a failui-e." 
 
 Much time, however, did not elapse 
 before a new demand for petroleum was 
 created, and once more thousands poured 
 into the oil regions, and ultimately the 
 use of petroleum became almost universal, 
 as a cheap and excellent cil for burning. 
 So vast did the business now become, that, 
 from the third of March, 1865, to the close 
 of that year, the quantity of crude petro- 
 leum produced in the Venango county, 
 region was 1,020,126 barrels ; in western 
 Virginia, 13,666; in Ohio, 10,676; in 
 Kentucky, 2,405. The trade involved in 
 this immense production became the most 
 important business of several cities in 
 Pennsylvania, Ohio, and New York, af- 
 fording employment and support for tens 
 of thousands of people. 
 
 An immense export trade soon began, 
 amounting, in 1863, to 252,000 tons' 
 
482 
 
 PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 BURNING OF ONE OF THE GREAT OIL WELLS. 
 
 weight, or 28,000,000 gallons, valued at 
 $12,000,000, and employing no less than 
 252 vessels of one thousand tons burden. 
 Of course, many hitherto comparatively 
 poor persons became millionaires all of a 
 sudden, and of these, "some were wise and 
 some foolish," in the use of their wealth. 
 
 An illustration of the latter class was 
 that of a widow, whose farm proved to be 
 one of the earliest and best for the produc- 
 tion of oil, in the whole county of Vcnango, 
 several wells with products ranging from 
 two hundred to twenty-five hundred bar- 
 rels per day being struck at intervals, and 
 the income in money from the territory 
 proving almost fabulous in amount. The 
 old lady did not live long to enjoy her 
 good fortune, and, dying, left her great 
 property, without any reservation, to her 
 adopted son John, then about twenty years 
 old. This youth, like the hero of tha' 
 well-known novel, " Half a Million of 
 Money," who came suddenly into posses- 
 sion of a like sum, had not been taught 
 to understand the value of dollars and 
 cents ; and, unlike that character, he had 
 
 no refined tastes, and threw his wealth 
 away with the most lavish folly. Of 
 course he rushed to New York ; and there, 
 in only a year and a half, he squandered 
 two millions of dollars. Presumably the 
 most ingenious extravagance was neces- 
 sary to accomplish this enormous result. 
 "Johnny," as his associates called him, 
 not only entered into every species of 
 debauchery, not only lost a hundred thou- 
 sand dollars in two nights at *faro, but 
 bought superb teams and gave them away 
 after an hour's ownership, supported a 
 swarm of human leeches of both sexes, and 
 even equipped a negro-minstrel troupe, 
 presenting each member with a'costly dia- 
 mond ring and pin. By-and-by, however, 
 Johnny's brilliant career came to a close, 
 and, oddly enough, "he was glad at last to 
 fill the position of door-keeper to the trav- 
 eling minatrel company which his own 
 munificence had organized, his farm on 
 Oil Creek having been disposed of at public 
 sale, for arrears due the government. 
 
 Time and space would indeed fail to 
 adequately record the doings of those sham 
 
PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 483 
 
 and reckless companies, which, availing 
 themselves of the oleaginous fever and a 
 credulous public, involved themselves and 
 others in operations well-nigh ruinous. 
 One of these companies selected a site in 
 the woods, which had been " prospected " 
 by one of their number and highly recom- 
 mended (located about six miles from a 
 railroad station laid down on the map, but 
 not yet built), and having organized, 
 agreed to have the first of a series of pro- 
 posed wells dug, not by contract, as was 
 usual, but by day's work. Having procured 
 the necessary tools, including a compass for 
 guidance in the woods, the work was duly 
 proceeded with, and progress from time to 
 time reported. Calls for the "sinews" 
 were also made, and promptly met, until 
 the well was said to be down over one 
 hundred feet, with a good show for oil. 
 This was about the time for the "Annual 
 Meeting," and more money being called 
 for. it was deemed advisable to have the 
 well re-measured and reported on. Judge 
 of the surprise of the stockholders when, 
 to use the language of one of the patri- 
 archs in oil, the force of the oil from be- 
 low had shoved the hole up to eighty-six 
 feet! Here was a stunner; and, as the 
 well had already cost a good round sum, 
 and the resources of the company were 
 limited, matters continued to remain in 
 statu quo. The most plausible plan for 
 getting out of the difficulty was that which 
 proposed to have the balance of the hole 
 taken up and cut into lengths for pump 
 logs ! a fair hit at many of the chimerical 
 oil projects of that day. 
 
 Various opinions are entertained as to 
 the origin and source of this remarkable 
 substance. According to Professor Silli- 
 man, it is of vegetable origin, and was pro- 
 duced by the agency of subterranean heat. 
 Professor Dana says that it is a bitumin- 
 ous liquid resulting from the decomposi- 
 tion of marine or land plants, mainly the 
 latter, and perhaps, also, of some non-nitro- 
 genous animal tissues. By many, it is 
 supposed to be a product of coal ; some 
 supposing that the coal, being subjected 
 to the enormous pressure of the overlying 
 
 beds, has yielded oil, as a linseed cake under 
 an hydraulic press. The theory has even 
 been advanced, that the coal, heated (as it 
 evidently has been in the coal regions of 
 eastern Pennsylvania), gave off oily vapors 
 which, rising to the cold region of the 
 upper air, condensed, and subsequently 
 fell in oily showers, making its way as 
 best it could to the hollows of the earth's 
 interior, where now it is found by the oil- 
 borer. 
 
 An extensive survey and examination of 
 the coal region by Mr. Kidgeway, an emi- 
 nent geologist, convinced him that the 
 petroleum was not produced from the coal 
 fields, as in that case it would have had to 
 flow up-hill into the oil basin; it is, rather, 
 the result of the decomposition of marine 
 plants, in the Oil Creek valley, though 
 that found in bituminous coal basins, orig- 
 inates, no doubt, from beds of coal. Ac- 
 cording to this theory, the plants which 
 produced the oil in the rock existed and 
 flourished at a long period of time before 
 the vegetation which now forms coal beds , 
 they are unlike the vegetable impressions 
 found in the accompanying shales and 
 clays associated with beds of coal, and they 
 grew where the flag-stones and shales of 
 Oil Creek were laid down by salt water 
 currents. The climate was so hot, during 
 this age of marine vegetation, and the 
 growth of plants so rapid and rank, caused 
 by the supposed large amount of carbonic 
 acid and hydrogen then composing the 
 atmosphere, that these conditions on the 
 face of the earth produced plants contain- 
 ing more hydrogen and less carbon than 
 the plants which produced coal beds, and 
 hence their fermentation resulted in petro- 
 leum. 
 
 But the theory that the oil was pro- 
 duced at the time of the original bitumin- 
 ization of the animal or vegetable matter, 
 has many difficulties in its way, especially 
 the fact that such large quantities of 
 inflammable gas always accompany the oil. 
 That the oil is a product, not of coal, but 
 of coral, is the opinion of some ; and thus, 
 stored away in cells, forming, in the ag- 
 gregate, immense reefs, as it was collected 
 
484 
 
 PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 from the impure waters of the early oceans 
 by minute coral insects, it has been driven 
 by heat and pressure into reservoirs and 
 crevices, where man's ingenuity at last 
 discovered it. 
 
 Of the uses of petroleum, much might 
 be said. Unrivaled and universal for illu- 
 mination, it is also valuable as a lubrica- 
 tor, and, in some of its chemically prepared 
 states, is employed as a dryer in paints 
 
 and varnishes. For fuel and gas its util- 
 ity has been amply proved. Medically, it 
 has been found efficacious in suppurating 
 wounds, also in headache, toothache, swell- 
 ings, rheumatism, dislocations, and as a 
 disinfectant. And even as a base in the 
 production of colors, some of the most 
 gratifying results have followed the chem- 
 ist's experiments with this wonderful ar 
 ticla 
 
LIX. 
 
 GRAND EMBASSY FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN, WITH 
 
 A TREATY OF PEACE AND COMMERCE, TO THE 
 
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT. 1860. 
 
 First Ambassadors Ever Sent from that Ancient Country to a Foreign Land. Their Official Reception 
 by President Buchanan, and Tour of Observation to the Chief Cities. Public Interest Excited by 
 this Extraordinary Mission. Their Oriental Costume, Manners, Ceremonies, etc. Japanese Distinc- 
 tion Shown to Americans. Character of the Embassy. Headed by Eminent Princes. Numerous and 
 Brilliant Suite. Arrival at Washington. Procession to the Hotel. Most Curious Spectacle. How 
 the Treaty was Carried. Ceremonies at the White House. Salutations and Speeches Impressive 
 International Scene Japanese Diplomacy. Delivering the Tycoon's Letter. Personal Appearance 
 of the Ambassadors. President Buchanan's Opinion. Humors and Drolleries. " Tommy," the 
 Ladies' Pet. Gallantry to Miss Lane. The Embassy at the Navy Yard. Astonishment Expressed 
 by Them. Adieu to the President America's Message to the Emperor. 
 
 " Henceforth, the intercourse of frirndthip shall be held between both countries, and benevolent feelings shall be cultivated more and 
 more, and never altered." LETTKK or TUB Trcoox To THE PKKSIUENT. 
 
 ONTKARY to all precedent in 
 the history of Japan, and its 
 
 sent an official embassy to the 
 government of the United States, 
 in the spring of 1860, charged 
 with the duty of presenting for 
 final ratification a treaty of amity 
 and commerce between the two 
 nations, such as had never be- 
 fore been made by the Japanese 
 court with any other people, 
 and to express to the president 
 the emperor's profound respect for him, and for the great republic of which he was the 
 
 elected chief. 
 
 It was justly regarded as something flattering to the national pride of Americans, 
 that this country should be the first to receive the distinction of an embassy from that 
 ancient and almost unknown people, and that a republican government of the freest 
 form should have been selected for such an honor by a nation barred in by the prejudice 
 of centuries against all but the most despotic rule; and the curiosity which everywhere 
 prevailed to behold men from a region so distant, so long shut out from the rest of the 
 
 JAPANESE BOX CONTAINING THE TREATY. 
 
486 
 
 GRAND EMBASSY FROM JAPAN. 
 
 world, and now, for the first time, not only 
 admitting the visits of other nations, but 
 themselves undertaking a long and fatigu- 
 ing voyage to visit strangers in the utter- 
 most end of the earth, was certainly natural. 
 
 The embassy consisted of two principal 
 ambassadors, princes of the highest rank 
 among the nobility of the empire, and two 
 associates, nobles of nearly equal rank. 
 These four were of the emperor's council, 
 and were accompanied by a suite of sixteen 
 officers, together with fifty-three servants. 
 Arriving at Honolulu, in the United 
 States ship Powhatan, Commodore Tat- 
 nall, from Japan, they proceeded thence to 
 San Francisco, where they arrived March 
 27, 1860, in g '*& health and spirits. A 
 grand pubhc )e-;eption was given them by 
 the city, the chief dignitaries of the em- 
 bassy being magnificently dressed in em- 
 broidered s ; ik robes, and each wore a 
 sword of beptitiful workmanship. 
 
 In due tirc.e, the embassy reached Wash- 
 ington, the ;apital of the nation, and the 
 special place of their official destination. 
 Here thej were amply and elegantly ac- 
 commodated at Willard's Hotel, many of 
 the apartments being newly furnished for 
 the occasion. A fine military and naval 
 detachment performed escort duty, as, in 
 regular procession, the high officials and 
 their numerous retinue moved from the 
 wharf to the hotel. The Nourimon, a 
 black lacquered frame, square in shape, 
 and in size and roof very much resembling 
 a dog-kennel, in which was fixed the treaty 
 box, hidden from the public eye by a loose 
 cover of red oil-cloth, preceded the first 
 ambassador, in the line of procession, and 
 was borne by two of the men belonging to 
 the navy yard. 
 
 General Cass, secretary of state, received 
 the embassy on Wednesday, May 17th, 
 ind made a short speech of welcome. The 
 next day was appointed for the grand cer- 
 emonial of their presentation to the presi- 
 dent of the United States, i*t the executive 
 mansion. 
 
 The accounts given in the Washington 
 newspapers, of this memorable proceeding, 
 state that long before the time indicated 
 
 for the passage of the procession from the 
 quarters of the embassy to the president's 
 house, the neighborhood was filled with a 
 dense multitude, intent on witnessing a 
 spectacle so unprecedented. The United 
 States marines, ordnance guards, and ma- 
 rine band, were in attendance to do the 
 honors of escort. True to the time they 
 had appointed, the Japanese officials com- 
 menced leaving their hotel at half-past 
 eleven o'clock, and as soon as they were 
 seated in the carriages drawn up to convey 
 them, the procession moved forward to the 
 presidential mansion. Each carriage bore 
 an officer of the embassy in full ceremo- 
 nial costume, and, between every two car- 
 riages, from two to four Japanese guards, 
 armed with swords, not drawn, marched 
 on foot, one of them carrying aloft a small 
 ensign in Japanese fashion, on a pole 
 about twelve feet high. 
 
 Occupying the first carriage, was an 
 officer arrayed in a loose slate-colored gown 
 of state, of a general form like the pulpit 
 gown worn by the Episcopal clergy, with 
 huge sleeves stiffly extending right and 
 left, the texture having a brocade-like 
 appearance. The lower dress consisted of 
 a pair of trousers, very wide and full, and 
 of the same material. On the crown of 
 the head, immediately over the tonsure, 
 extending from the forehead to the crown, 
 was worn an ornament, shaped like a band 
 of three or four inches wide and eighteen 
 inches long, bent in the middle, and the 
 ends tied, but not close together. Nearly 
 all the ambassadors wore this distinction, 
 but in some the bend stood forward, in 
 others backward. 
 
 After the official in the slate-colored 
 dress, came one in a rich green brocade ; 
 next one in light green ; then one in yel- 
 low; next a dark slate, and another in 
 yellow or orange, a third in green, and two 
 riding with Mr. Portman. the interpreter, 
 both arrayed in blue. One little official, 
 in a skirt richly embroidered with pink 
 and gold, attracted considerable attention. 
 
 On arriving at the doorway of the exec- 
 utive mansion, the Japanese guards took 
 the advance and distributed themselves in 
 
GKAND EMBASSY FROM JAP AX. 
 
 487 
 
488 
 
 GEAND EMBASSY FROM JAPAN. 
 
 a double line, between which the ambassa- 
 dors and superior officers passed into the 
 interior of the building. Here they re- 
 mained about ten minutes, until the cen- 
 tral folding-doors of the great East room 
 were thrown open, when the oriental 
 strangers found themselves in the presence 
 of a brilliant throng of ladies and gentle- 
 men, the latter comprising the president 
 and his cabinet officers, senators, members 
 of the house of representatives, and officers 
 of the army and navy, all in full dress, and 
 the whole scene being most striking and 
 impressive. 
 
 After every arrangement had been con- 
 summated for the august interview, the 
 Japanese princes charged with the custody 
 of the treaty, after advancing a few paces, 
 bowed reverentially ; then took a few more 
 steps, and bowed again, with rigid formal- 
 ity ; and, having bowed once more as they 
 approached the president, they then stood 
 fast. The caps, or ornaments, which they 
 wore upon their heads, they retained 
 throughout the ceremonies. The ambas- 
 sador in chief, who stood in the center, 
 now read from a paper which he held in 
 his hand, his speech, or official address, to 
 the president. It was read with rather a 
 strong nasal intonation, indicating earnest- 
 ness rather than eloquence. This speech 
 was interpreted as follows : 
 
 "Hia majesty, the Tycoon, has com- 
 manded us that we respectfully express to 
 his majesty the President of the United 
 States, in his name as follows : Desiring 
 to establish on a firm and lasting founda- 
 tion the relations of peace and commerce 
 so happily existing between the two coun- 
 tries that lately the plenipotentiaries of 
 both countries have negotiated and con- 
 cluded a treaty, he has now ordered us to 
 exchange the ratification of the treaty in 
 your principal city of Washington. Hence- 
 forth the friendly relations shall be held 
 more and more lasting; and he is very 
 happy to have your friendly feeling, and 
 pleased that you have brought us to the 
 United States, and will send us to Japan, 
 in your men-of-war." 
 
 When the ambassador concluded this 
 
 address, a square red sort of box or bundle 
 was, with some delay, unfolded, and its 
 contents presented ceremoniously and with 
 an official air to the president, containing 
 a letter to the latter from the Tycoon, or 
 chief magistrate of Japan, and which the 
 president immediately handed to Mr. Cass, 
 secretary of state,who stood on his left hand. 
 
 Having done this, the ambassador re- 
 tired, explaining that it would not comport 
 with the etiquette of his country that he 
 should be present while the letter was 
 read, and that he must report the delivery 
 of the letter to "the commissioner," an 
 officer who remained at the door, outside. 
 
 After a short delay, the princes, again 
 entering as at first, and having, as they 
 advanced, stopped three times to bow 
 themselves, presented to the president 
 their letters of credence, which were in 
 like manner passed over to the secretary of 
 state. The president now commenced to 
 read, in a very distinct and audible voice, 
 his official address to the ambassadors, in 
 the words following : 
 
 " I give you a cordial welcome as repre- 
 sentatives of his imperial majesty, the 
 Tycoon of Japan, to the American gov- 
 ernment. We are all much gratified that 
 the first embassy which your great empire 
 has ever accredited to any foreign power 
 has been sent to the United States. 
 
 I trust that this will be the harbinger of 
 perpetual peace and friendship between 
 the two countries. The ratifications you 
 are about to exchange with the secretary 
 of state cannot fail to be productive of 
 benefits and blessings to the people of both 
 Japan and the United States. 
 
 I can say for myself, and promise for 
 my successors, that it shall be carried into 
 execution in a faithful and friendly spirit, 
 so as to secure to the countries all the 
 advantages they may justly expect from 
 the happy auspices under which it has 
 been negotiated and ratified. 
 
 I rejoice that you are pleased with the 
 kind treatment which you have received 
 on board of our vessels of war whilst on 
 your passage to this country. You shall be 
 sent back in the same manner to your 
 
GRAND EMBASSY FEOM JAPAN. 
 
 489 
 
 native land, under the protection of the j 
 American flag. 
 
 Meanwhile, during your residence 
 amongst us, which I hope may be pro- 
 longed so as to enable you to visit different 
 portions of our country, we shall be happy 
 to extend to you all the hospitality and 
 kindness eminently due to the great and 
 friendly sovereign whom you so worthily 
 represent " 
 
 The tone and language of the president 
 seemed to be listened to by his bowing 
 auditors with great satisfaction, and espe- 
 cially the promise that the embassy should 
 be returned to Japan at the expense of the 
 United States government, and under the 
 protection of the American flag. 
 
 The princes retired, as before, to report 
 what had been done and said, to " the 
 commissioner ; " but soon returned, and 
 were then introduced successively to each 
 member of the cabinet, who all shook 
 hands with them. Next came General 
 Scott, who made them one of his most gra- 
 cious bows, but before whose imposing 
 stature the ambassadors seemed almost 
 extinguished. The vice-president of the 
 United States was then called for, but was 
 not in presence. The speaker of the 
 house of representatives was next sum- 
 moned, and, with difficulty, and not a little 
 delay, oared his way through the sea of 
 ladies' bonnets and officers' epaulettes 
 which tossed and billowed between him 
 and the high place of honor. Finally, 
 under the surveillance of Captain Dupont, 
 the illustrious strangers, after a profound 
 adieu to the president, which he returned 
 with a bow as low, retired from the East 
 room, and made their way through ranks 
 of their kneeling subordinates to another 
 room, where they prepared for their re- 
 turn to their quarters. 
 
 The following is a translation of the 
 letter of the Ty-coon to the president, 
 which was delivered by the ambassadors : 
 " To His Majesty the President of the 
 United States of America, I express with 
 respect: Lately the governor of Simoda 
 Insooye Sinano No-Kami and the Metske 
 Iwasi Hego No-Kami had negotiated and 
 
 decided with Townsend Harris, the minis- 
 ter plenipotentiary of your country, an 
 affair of amity and commerce, and con- 
 cluded previously the treaty in the city of 
 Yeddo. And now the ratification of the 
 treaty is sent with the commissioner of 
 foreign affairs, Simmi Boojsen No-Kami 
 and Mooragaki Awajsi No-Kami, to ex- 
 change the mutual treaty. It proceeds 
 from a particular importance of affairs 
 and a perfectly amicable feeling. Hence- 
 forth, the intercourse of friendship shall 
 be held between both countries, and benev- 
 olent feelings shall be cultivated more and 
 more, and never altered. Because the 
 now deputed three subjects are those 
 whom I have chosen and confided in for 
 the present post, I desire you to grant 
 them your consideration, charity, and 
 respect. Herewith I desire you to spread 
 my sincere wish for friendly relations, and 
 also I have the honor to congratulate you on 
 the security and welfare of your country." 
 
 The first ambassador was a man of 
 small frame, with a stoop across the shoul- 
 ders ; he was about five feet five in height, 
 and thirty-five in years, had a long face 
 and a peculiar nose being too thin to be 
 called Jewish, and too even to be styled 
 Roman. The second ambassador looked 
 twenty years older than the first. The 
 countenance of the first indicated dignity 
 beyond ' all affectation, and the highest 
 refinement. The others were of less dis- 
 tinguished mien, but all possessed an 
 agreeable expression. They were all 
 thick-skinned and dark in complexion, the 
 general color being that of a bamboo 
 walking-cane. The hair was shaved from 
 all parts of the head excepting the sides 
 and back, from which it was gathered in 
 long bands to the crown, and there fast- 
 ened with a white string, leaving a lock 
 three or four inches long, stiffened with 
 oil, and brought forward to the forehead. 
 
 They wore silk or crape undercoats, of 
 various hues, looser robes of the same 
 material, and mostly blue, being thrown 
 and folded over them. In their belts of 
 crape, they wore two swords, one short 
 (the barrikarri sword, which no plebian 
 
490 
 
 GRAND EMBASSY FBOM JAPAN. 
 
 can make use of), the other longer. These 
 weapons are of a finer steel than is else- 
 where made, and were borne in neatly- 
 wrought scabbards of thick skin, inlaid 
 with ornaments of gold and jewels. Their 
 trousers were very wide and short, de- 
 scending only to within five or six inches 
 of the ground, and were made of silk, some 
 of them being covered with beautifully 
 embroidered figures of birds and flowers. 
 These trousers were held up by a flat 
 braid resting in the small of the back, and 
 around which the crape belt passed. Upon 
 their feet were white cloth coverings, half 
 sock, half gaiter, closely fitting, and fast- 
 ened by cords. Their sandals were of 
 straw, and composed of a small, flat matting 
 for the foot, and two cords to keep it in its 
 place. Another article, almost inseparable 
 from the dress, the pipe, was carried in 
 the back part of the belt, and was brought 
 into very frequent, though not long sus- 
 tained, use, three whiffs being the extent 
 of Japanese indulgence in the weed. The 
 princes, and most of the higher officers, 
 wore watches purchased from the Dutch. 
 For pockets, they used a part of their 
 flowing sleeves and the front of their 
 robes above the belt, the customary occu- 
 pation of which by goodly-sized packages 
 gave the wearers a protuberant appearance 
 quite unaccountable at first sight. The 
 dresses of the officers of lower grade were 
 similarly fashioned, but not so rich in text- 
 ure or color. Their coats were all marked 
 with the stamp of the particular prince 
 whom they served. 
 
 President Buchanan extended the cour- 
 tesies of the nation to the distinguished 
 strangers in a manner befitting his high 
 station, nor was he an unappreciating 
 observer of their manners and peculiarities. 
 "They never speak to me," he humor- 
 ously said, "without calling me 'Emperor' 
 and 'His Majesty,' and are the most par- 
 ticular people about what they should do. 
 Everything was written down for them, 
 stating the course they were to take, the 
 number of bows they were to make, and 
 all that, before they left Japan. They 
 can't understand me at all. They were 
 
 here in front, to hear the band, on Satur- 
 day. Well, I went" down the steps to 
 speak to some of my friends that I saw, 
 and they couldn't understand that a.t all. 
 To think that I 'Emperor of the United 
 States ' should go down among and shake 
 hands with the people, astonished them 
 wonderfully. Oh, no ! they couldn't un- 
 derstand that, it was so unlike any thing 
 in their own country. They are the 
 queerest people to deal with possible ; 
 there's no getting anything out of them, 
 they're so close about everything. Ah ! 
 these Japanese ; they're the most curious 
 people I ever saw. They take notes of 
 every incident. They've got down a long 
 description of how I looked when they had 
 the reception, and every matter they've 
 seen nothing escapes them. They're 
 always sketching and taking notes of 
 things. They're very proud, too, I can 
 see ; they bow very low, but they won't do 
 more than is prescribed for them in their 
 instructions." The observations of the 
 president, on these points, accorded pre- 
 cisely with the views expressed by others. 
 The interest manifested by the public in 
 the appearance and movements of the 
 Japanese was a source of continued grati- 
 fication to the oriental visitors ; they ap- 
 peared pleased with the motley crowds 
 that assembled under their windows, pre- 
 senting to them quite frequently their 
 smiling countenances, sometimes amus- 
 ing themselves, also, by throwing their 
 native coin into the street, to be scrambled 
 for. Large numbers of ladies and gentle- 
 men paid their respects to them, and 
 begged a card written in Japanese charac- 
 ters, which were exhibited, in connection 
 with the singular coin, as trophies and 
 mementos of this memorable occasion. 
 The Japanese were particular to inquire 
 the occupation of their visitors, their salary, 
 whether married, and numerous other ques- 
 tions, all of which were written on their 
 note-books. With the ladies they were less 
 particular. They smiled upon them most 
 benignly, and were profuse in their admi- 
 ration, as they were minute in their exam- 
 ination of their jewelry. The piano was 
 
GRAND EMBASSY FROM JAPAN. 
 
 491 
 
 a special object of curiosity; the source 
 whence such beautiful harmonies proceeded 
 was a profound mystery to them, but they 
 never seemed to tire of the instrument. 
 
 One of the most popular members of the 
 embassy was Tataiesi Owasjero, the young- 
 est of the interpreters, and called by his 
 American friends " Tommy." He was a 
 particular favorite with the ladies. When 
 fans were handed to him for his autograph, 
 he wrote upon them, " I like American lady 
 very much ; I want to marry and live 
 here with pletty lady " (' pletty ' being an 
 emendation of his own upon 'pretty.') 
 Moreover, the sentiments of Tommy ap- 
 peared to be liberally reciprocated. He 
 
 which he persisted in calling 'Poppy Goes 
 the "Weasel,' thinking the extra syllable 
 rather a good thing. He also extended 
 his American acquirements in a less praise- 
 worthy direction, getting to swear after a 
 curious manner, and, when over-excited, 
 mingling undue profanity with his conver- 
 sation, but with no notion of the impro- 
 priety he was committing. A beautiful 
 little girl, six or seven years old, was car- 
 ried by Mayor Berret to see the Japanese. 
 Tommy directly assumed a deep interest 
 in her. He explained to her all sorts of 
 Japanese notions, and for once repressed 
 his boisterous instincts. He kept calling 
 all his companions to look at the pretty 
 
 AMBASSADORS S1MMI BOOJSEN MIKAMI AND MOORAOAKI AWAJSI NOKAMI. 
 
 was a thorough pet. Bevies of maidens 
 gazed beneficently upon him all day, and 
 until late in the evening, and extended to 
 him unreluctant hands. Matrons, too, 
 proffered him attentions; but, with keen 
 discrimination, he was generally taken 
 with a fit of business when the smiles that 
 greeted him were not the smiles of youth- 
 ful beauty. He soon learned to sing and 
 whistle a great acquisition, since the 
 Japanese are not a singing people, and 
 have but few musical instruments. Among 
 the tunes which he mastered were ' Hail 
 Columbia,' and ' Pop Goes the Weasel,' 
 
 stranger, and when she was about going 
 away, asked : " Is it permitted here to kiss 
 a little girl so young as that ?" adding 
 that in Japan it was considered exactly 
 the correct thing to do. 
 
 On the occasion of the embassy visiting, 
 in a social way, the president's grounds, 
 Miss Lane, the president's niece, exhibited 
 some curiosity to examine the blade of 
 Ogoori Bungo-No-Kami's sword. No 
 sooner did that official comprehend the 
 desire of the lady to unsheath his catanna 
 (the name of the weapon,) than he smiled 
 most graciously, and said in Japanese, 
 
492 
 
 GEAND EMBASSY FEOM JAPAN. 
 
 "Take it, my lady," at the same time 
 handing it to her most gracefully. She, 
 upon this, drew the glittering blade from 
 its scabbard half wood, half leather, with 
 an inlaying of silver, and eyed it woman- 
 like and closely, and then returning it to 
 its sheath, handed it back to its owner, 
 who took it with evident pleasure that the 
 thing of his honor and defense should have 
 excited interest on the part of one so fair. 
 
 Visiting the navy yard, they were aston- 
 ished at beholding the forging of a main 
 stem of a large anchor. They then pro- 
 ceeded to the steam boiler department, and 
 were evidently delighted with a large new 
 boiler destined for the steamer Pensacola, 
 as they examined it minutely. In the 
 punching establishment, the mode of drill- 
 ing amused them very much, as did also 
 the explosion of a large mass of powder, in 
 the shape of signal lights, as used in the 
 navy. The extending of an immense 
 chain, by hydraulic pressure, greatly ex- 
 cited their curiosity. 
 
 After a tour through different portions 
 of the country, including visits to the 
 principal cities, where they were the recip- 
 ients of the most lavish and magnificent 
 hospitalities, they had their final ceremo- 
 nial audience with President Buchanan, in 
 Washington. On this occasion, the first 
 ambassador read, quite in a whisper, the 
 following words of farewell, as repeated by 
 the interpreter : 
 
 " The exchange of the ratification of the 
 treaty having taken place, and the time of 
 our departure having arrived, we have 
 come to take leave of your excellency, and 
 to wish you continued health and prosper- 
 ity. We may be allowed to-day to tender 
 your excellency our heart-felt thanks for 
 your friendly feelings on our behalf, and 
 for the very kind treatment we have met 
 with in Washington. 
 
 It has been a source of gratification to 
 us to visit several government institutions, 
 where we have seen many things in which 
 we have felt much interest. Of all this, 
 and of our journey home in the Niagara, a 
 full account will be submitted by us, on 
 our return, to the Tycoon, who will be 
 
 greatly pleased by it, and who will always 
 endeavor to strengthen and to increase the 
 friendly relations so happily established 
 between the two countries." 
 
 To the speech of the ambassador, th'e 
 president replied as follows : 
 
 " The arrival of these distinguished 
 commissioners from the Tycoon has been 
 a very propitious and agreeable event in 
 my administration. It is an historical 
 event, which, I trust, 'will unite the two 
 nations together in bonds of friendship 
 through all time. 
 
 The conduct of the commissioners has 
 met my entire approbation, and the Ty- 
 coon could not have selected out of all his 
 dominions, any representatives who could 
 have more conciliated the good-will of the 
 government of the United States. I have 
 caused the secretary of state to prepare a 
 letter of re-credence a letter from under 
 my own hand to the Tycoon, stating my 
 opinion of the manner in which they have 
 performed their business ; and a copy of 
 that letter will be placed in their hands 
 before their departure. 
 
 I wish you a very agreeable time during 
 the remainder of your residence in the 
 United States, and a safe and happy return 
 to your own country, under the flag of the 
 American Union. 
 
 I desire, for myself, to present to each 
 of the commissioners a gold medal, struck 
 at the mint, in commemoration of their 
 arrival and services in this country. 
 
 There have been several presents pre- 
 pared for his imperial majesty the Tycoon, 
 which will be sent to your lodgings in the 
 course of the day." 
 
 The embassy left the United States on 
 the first of July, in the magnificent ship- 
 of-war Niagara, carrying with them, in 
 addition to the treaty by which American 
 commercial privileges in Japan were much 
 extended, a large number of valuable gifts 
 from our government, and the remem- 
 brance of a visit in every respect happy 
 and auspicious. The results of the mission 
 were in the highest degree satisfactory to 
 both governments, and naturally excited 
 much interest on the part of other nations. 
 
LX. 
 
 TOUR OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, ALBERT EDWARD, 
 PRINCE OF WALES, THROUGH THE UNITED ' 
 
 STATES. 1360. 
 
 Friendly Letters between President Buchanan and Queen Victoria on the Subject The Prince's First 
 Entrance into American Waters. Unbounded Hospitalities Extended Him. Hunting Excursions, 
 Military Reviews, Balls, Illuminations, etc. Splendid Banquet at the White House. England's 
 Appreciation of these Honors to Her Future King. Heir to the British Throne. Arrival at Detroit, 
 Chicago, etc. Enthusiastic Crowds Greet Him. His Way Completely Blocked Up. On a Hunt: 
 Fine Sportsman. Receptions at Various Cities. Locomotive Ride to Washington. Guest of Presi- 
 dent Buchanan. Courtesies and Ceremonials. Visit to Mount Vernon. At the Tomb of Washing- 
 ton. Unparalleled Historical Scene He Plants a Tree at the Grave Rare Scenes in Philadelphia. 
 New York and Boston Festivities Present from Trinity Church, New York. Greatest Balls Ever 
 Known. He Meets a Bunker Hill Veteran. Impressions of America. Incidents, Anecdotes, Inter- 
 views. His Looks, Manners, Dress, etc. Brilliant Farewell at Portland. 
 
 " Too may be well assured that everywhere in thif country he will be greeted by the American people in iueh a manner at cannot foil to 
 be gratifying to vour Mujeity." FBESIDIST BUCHAHAS TO QctEic VIOIOEIA. 
 
 R. Buchanan's closing presidential year was ren- 
 dered memorable by the visit to this country of 
 Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, who, being 
 the eldest son of Queen Victoria, and great 
 grandson of George III., the king who waged 
 against America the wars of 1776 and 1812 
 naturally riveted all eyes, and excited univer- 
 sal attention, as he journeyed from one part of 
 the Union to another. At the time of this 
 visit, the prince was in his nineteenth year; 
 had been educated at Oxford University, and 
 was reputed a worthy son of a good mother, 
 and destined, on the death of the latter, to be 
 King of the British realm. President Bu- 
 chanan, having been informed of the Prince's 
 intention to make a Canadian tour, addressed 
 
 THE PRINCE OF WALES AT WASHINGTON'S. TOMB. the following letter to the Queen, which was 
 presented by Mr. Dallas, United States Minister at the Court of St. James : 
 "To HEK MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA: 
 I have learned, from the public journals, that the Prince of Wales is about to visit 
 
494 
 
 TOTTK OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 your Majesty's North American domin- 
 ions. Should it he the intention of His 
 Koyal Highness to extend his visit to the 
 United States, I need not say how happy 
 I should be to give him a cordial welcome 
 to Washington. 
 
 You may be well assured that every- 
 where in this country he will be greeted 
 by the American people in such manner 
 as cannot fail to prove gratifying to your 
 Majesty. In this they will manifest their 
 deep sense of your domestic virtues, as well 
 as their convictions of your merits as a 
 wise, patriotic, and constitutional sover- 
 eign. 
 
 Your Majesty's most obedient servant, 
 JAMES BUCHANAN." 
 
 In reply to the foregoing highly courte- 
 ous letter, dated at Washington, June 4, 
 1860, Queen Victoria dispatched the fol- 
 lowing most happily worded response, 
 dated at Buckingham Palace, June 22d : 
 "MY GOOD FRIEND: 
 
 I have been much gratified at the feel- 
 ings which prompted you to write to me, 
 inviting the Prince of Wales to come to 
 Washington. He intends to return from 
 Canada through the United States, and it 
 will give him great pleasure to have an 
 opportunity of testifying to you in person 
 that these feelings are fully reciprocated 
 by him. He will thus be able, at the same 
 time, to mark the respect which he enter- 
 tains for the Chief Magistrate of a great 
 and powerful state and kindred nation. 
 
 The Prince of Wales will drop all royal 
 state on leaving my dominions, and travel 
 under the name of Lord Renfrew, as he 
 has done when traveling on the continent 
 of Europe. 
 
 The Prince Consort wishes to be kindly 
 remembered to you. 
 
 I remain ever, your good friend, 
 
 VICTORIA R." 
 
 It was on the 23d of 'July, 1860, that 
 the prince arrived at St. Johns, N. R, 
 and, after journeying for some weeks in 
 the various British. Provinces, where he 
 was received with the most distinguished 
 and enthusiastic attentions, he finally en- 
 
 tered American waters, between Windsor, 
 Canada, and Detroit, Mich. When the 
 boat reached the center of the stream, the 
 Mayor of Detroit stepped forward and 
 said : "Baron Renfrew, we welcome you to 
 the United States, trusting that your visit 
 may be a happy one that you may long 
 remember it ivith pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion." At least fifty thousand persons 
 were present, and when the band struck 
 up The Star Spangled Banner, the cheer- 
 ing and enthusiasm were tremendous. 
 
 After witnessing a magnificent illumin- 
 ation in his honor, the next morning he 
 departed for Chicago. He was attended, 
 as usual, by his somewhat numerous suite, 
 the Duke of Newcastle being chief, A 
 magnificent open barouche, drawn by four 
 superb white horses, had been provided to 
 convey him from the hotel. The party 
 seated themselves in the barouche, when 
 the immense crowd gathered around, and 
 blocked up the avenues so thickly as to 
 make it next to impossible to proceed. 
 Cheer after cheer was given for the baron, 
 and the wildest enthusiasm prevailed. 
 The carriage was followed by prodigious 
 throngs on foot, many hanging to the 
 wheels, while the streets and sidewalks on 
 the route were so obstructed by people, 
 that the royal party were intercepted at 
 every turn. Arriving at Chicago, a vast 
 assembly greeted him. Baron Renfrew 
 rode along a line of excited people, who 
 were kept from him by ropes, bowing, 
 with hat off, amidst repeated cheers. As 
 he passed, a rush was finally made, and, 
 in spite of every effort of the policemen, 
 the crowd surged in like the sea. Ar- 
 riving, at last, at the hotel, five thousand 
 persons were there found gazing at the 
 windows, in almost perfect silence and 
 order, waiting to see the prince's shadow 
 even. Here, the most splendid honors 
 and hospitalities were heaped upon him, 
 exceeding anything of the kind ever be- 
 fore known in that young and powerful 
 city of the west. 
 
 Leaving Chicago in a special train for 
 Dwight's Station from which place the 
 prince was to start on a hunting excursion, 
 
TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 405 
 
 he arrived there at dark, on Saturday 
 evening. The next day, the prince at- 
 tended divine service at the Presbyterian 
 church. In the afternoon, a courier ar- 
 rived with dispatches from the queen, and 
 the party spent the rest of the day in read- 
 ing their letters and answering them. On 
 Monday they shot prairie chickens ; on 
 Tuesday, they went in pursuit of quail, 
 and were very successful, the prince, who 
 enjoyed the sport highly, hagging over a 
 hundred birds. His host, Mr. Spencer, 
 an experienced hunter, pronounced the 
 prince an excellent sportsman, handling a 
 gun finely. The whole party dressed 
 roughly, and walked about the village 
 smoking pipes in the most free-and-easy 
 style. A couple of Irishmen called to see 
 the prince, who welcomed and shook hands 
 with them. Before leaving this place, he 
 expressed his regret that he could not 
 make his stay longer, and presented his 
 hosts with several beautiful gifts, among 
 which was a Manton gun, etc. 
 
 From this place he went to St. Louis, 
 and thence to Cincinnati. When he 
 landed at the former place, loud cheers 
 greeted him, and the crowd surrounded his 
 carriage to such an extent, that he was 
 obliged to close the windows of the vehi- 
 cle ; the carriages of the suite were also 
 driven in opposite directions, to divide the 
 throng. At the agricultural fair at St. 
 Louis, the royal party passed twice around 
 the arena, and then alighted in the center. 
 After this, they ascended to the second 
 story of the pagoda, where the band struck 
 up God Save the Queen. This was followed 
 by Hail Columbia and Yankee Doodle. 
 
 At Cincinnati, the prince attended a ball 
 given at the opera-house, Saturday even- 
 ing, and the next day attended worship at 
 St. John's church, and heard a sermon 
 from Bishop Mcllvaine. In the evening 
 he dined with the mayor and other citi- 
 zens. From Cincinnati the prince went 
 to Pittsburg ; dined at Altona ; and ar- 
 rived at Harrisburg late in the evening of 
 October 2d, where he was received by Gov- 
 ernor Packer, in the following unique and 
 off-hand address of welcome : 
 
 "Lord Renfrew, It affords me infinite 
 pleasure to welcome your lordship to the 
 capital of the commonwealth of Pennsyl- 
 vania, one of the old thirteen colonies that 
 originally acknowledged allegiance to the 
 crown of Great Britain, and, notwithstand- 
 ing that allegiance has been severed, your 
 lordship will perceive, by a glance at that 
 long line of colonial and state governors 
 (pointing to the portraits which adorn the 
 executive chambers), that we still have a 
 very, very great veneration and regard for 
 our ancient rulers. That line of portraits 
 is almost a perfect type of our American 
 families. We cannot follow our ancestry 
 more than a few generations back, without 
 tracing the line to a British red-coat." 
 
 On the third of October, he left Harris- 
 burg, early in the morning, for Baltimore 
 and Washington. On his way, in descend- 
 ing the mountain, the prince and his 
 friends rode upon the locomotive, so as to 
 
 obtain a better view of the magnificent 
 scenery of the eastern slope of the Alle- 
 ghanies, and expressed themselves much 
 gratified with their ride. Declining any 
 reception at Baltimore, the prince pro- 
 ceeded at once to Washington. 
 
 It would be as impossible to describe 
 the varied honors and ceremonials which 
 were showered upon the prince during his 
 stay in the nation's metropolis, as to detail 
 the fetes, ovations, and multitudinous pa- 
 geants, which attended him at every prin- 
 cipal point along his journey from one end 
 
496 
 
 TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 of the country to the other. Suffice it to 
 say, in brief, that at Washington he was 
 received by General Cass, secretary of 
 state, and two nephews of President Bu- 
 chanan. He was at once conducted to the 
 White House, where he was welcomed by 
 the president. At six o'clock he dined, 
 the members of the cabinet and one or two 
 senators with their wives being of the 
 party. On Thursday, October 4th, the 
 prince and suite visited the capitol and 
 the patent office. A reception was given 
 at the White House, at one o'clock, in 
 honor of the prince, and an immense 
 crowd was present. On this occasion, the 
 prince was dressed in blue coat and gray 
 pants, and, with ungloved hands, stood 
 upon the right of the president; near the 
 prince stood Lord Lyons. As each person 
 passed, the president shook hands with his 
 customary urbanity, and the prince bowed 
 as usual, though several ladies succeeded 
 in shaking his hand. In the evening, a 
 diplomatic dinner took place at the White 
 House, at which were present a splendid 
 array of high officials and foreign dignita- 
 ries, the banquet being, in all respects, 
 one of the most splendid of its kind ever 
 given on this continent. 
 
 The next day, the prince, with his suite 
 and a distinguished company, visited 
 Mount Vernon and the Tomb of Washing- 
 ton. It was a scene never before enacted 
 by any prince or potentate, the heir to 
 the proudest throne in the world making a 
 pilgrimage to the tomb of a rebel general, 
 one who, though once pronounced a traitor 
 by the very ancestors of the prince, now 
 ranks above all kings the Father of a 
 Country second to none. The day was all 
 that could be desired, one of October's 
 finest. The prince and his suite, accom- 
 panied by President Buchanan and other 
 eminent persons, went on board the gov- 
 ernment steamer Harriet Lane, and in 
 a short time reached their destination. 
 Having carefully inspected the various 
 apartments of the mansion the place 
 where the patriot wrote, the room in which 
 be slept, the bed on which he expired, and 
 examined the key of the Bastile, the piano 
 
 presented by Washington to Mrs. Lewis, 
 and other relics and curiosities, the party 
 then proceeded in silence to the great 
 patriot's last resting-place. 
 
 Approaching the hallowed spot, each 
 one reverentially uncovered his head. The 
 Marine Band had arrived before them, and, 
 concealed by a neighboring thicket, began 
 playing a dirge composed by the leader. 
 The scene was most impressive. The vis- 
 itors, ranging themselves in front of the 
 tomb, looked in, through the iron-grated 
 door, at the sarcophagus which contains 
 the mortal remains of the illustrious chief- 
 tain. Then, retiring a few paces, the 
 prince, the president, and the royal party, 
 grouped in front, silently contemplated the 
 Tomb of Washington. 
 
 Turning their attention once more to 
 the surrounding grounds and scenery, one 
 cut a cone to carry back to , England, as a 
 relic of the place ; another plucked a 
 flower, as a memento of the day and scene ; 
 and the prince, at the request of the 
 Mount Vernon Association, planted, with 
 but little formality, a tree, upon a beauti- 
 ful little mound near the tomb, and took 
 with him a companion seed to plant in 
 Windsor forest. 
 
 This pleasant commemorative ceremony 
 being over, the visitors again stood for 3 
 few moments before the tomb, and then, 
 turning away in thoughtful silence, slowly 
 retraced their way to the Harriet Lane, 
 which during their absence had been trans- 
 formed, by means of canvas and gay flags, 
 into a beautiful dining saloon, with covers 
 laid for the entire party. 
 
 Going from Washington to Richmond, 
 Va., he there attended St. Paul's church, 
 on Sunday, after which he visited Gov- 
 ernor Letcher. Baltimore was the next 
 place visited, and, after a drive around the 
 city, with the mayor, he left for Philadel- 
 phia, on arriving at which city, he put up 
 at the Continental. As he reached this 
 hotel, an amusing incident transpired. 
 He sprang out of his carriage with his 
 usual agility, and, to avoid the crowd, 
 rushed for the stairs, and into the arms of 
 the superintendent of order, who, presum- 
 
TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 407 
 
 ing him to be an interloper, stopped him, 
 and would not allow him to pass. In vain 
 the prince struggled and kicked. The 
 superintendent kept fast hold of the " in- 
 truder," until Mayor Henry rushed up and 
 relieved His Royal Highness from this 
 international embrace. The superintend- 
 ent bowed low, and begged pardon, but, 
 with the natural tendency to self-defense, 
 asked, "Why didn't he just speak?" 
 " Oh," said the prince, running ahead, 
 " that would have spoiled the joke." 
 
 Some time before the prince arrived in 
 Philadelphia, the ladies swarmed in large 
 numbers to the Continental, to inspect the 
 prince's splendid apartments, to sit where 
 he was to sit, etc. They were escorted 
 in and out of the rooms in parties of three 
 and four, and seemed to feel easier after 
 the visit. After his arrival, hundreds of 
 people stood around the hotel all day. 
 Some, indeed, mostly ladies, who had 
 fought or bribed their way up stairs, hung 
 around the door of his apartments, and 
 touched him curiously as he slipped past. 
 
 The principal receptions of the prince, 
 after his departure from Philadelphia, were 
 at New York, West Point, and Boston ; 
 but no account of these receptions, short 
 of an elaborate volume, would be equal to 
 their variety, extent, and magnificence, 
 and consequently only a few incidents can 
 be here narrated. 
 
 While at New York, he attended wor- 
 ship at Trinity church, three front pews 
 in the center aisle being reserved for the 
 prince and suite. In one of them, and 
 immediately in front of the prince's seat, 
 two magnificent prayer-books were depos- 
 ited, the one a small octavo size, the other 
 a half-quarto. They were both got up in 
 the most perfect style of typographical art, 
 and the skill of the binder had exhausted 
 itself on the exterior decorations. The 
 large one was bound in bright red morocco, 
 and was fastened by a golden clasp, 
 chastely embellished with filigree work, 
 and finely worked with the Prince of 
 Wales's plume and his motto " Ich Dien," 
 ("I serve.") The clasp alone cost two 
 hundred and fifty dollars. On its outer 
 32 
 
 cover, the book bore this inscription . " To 
 His Royal Highness, Albert Edward, 
 Prince of Wales, from the Corporation of 
 Trinity Church, New York, in Memory of 
 the Munificence of the Crown of En- 
 gland." 
 
 At the Academy of Music, October 12th, 
 there was given the greatest ball, in honor 
 of the prince, ever known in this country. 
 Over three thousand persons were present 
 the creme de la crime of New York soci- 
 ety. The ball-room comprised the par- 
 quette of the academy, and embraced the 
 stage. It was one hundred and thirty-five 
 feet in length by sixty-eight feet in breadth. 
 The end toward the stage was arranged in 
 a semi-circular form, while toward the 
 other end were placed three superb couches. 
 The central one was for the prince, while 
 those on either side were for his suite. 
 The decorations were floral throughout the 
 ball-room. The scene was magnificent. 
 There was a sea of heads in a sea of colors 
 the light flashing back from the gayest 
 and richest of dresses, from pearly white 
 shoulders and brilliant complexiens, and 
 from jewels iris-hued and rivaling the stars 
 in brightness. The full-dress black coats 
 absorbed the superfluous light, and softened 
 the blaze of the thousand lamps. The 
 rich military uniforms, ornamented with 
 golden lace and epaulettes, relieved the 
 uniformity of the gentlemen's toilets. 
 
 While the royal party were observing 
 the throng and the decorations of the 
 room, a sudden rustle and movement of the 
 crowd backward indicated that some acci- 
 dent was about to happen, and, in a mo- 
 ment after, one of the flower vases upon 
 the front tier fell with a great crash to the 
 floor, scattering its roses upon all who 
 stood near. 
 
 The supper-room was especially erected 
 for the occasion, and its length was one 
 hundred and forty-four feet, by twenty- 
 eight feet breadth. The entire vast apart- 
 ment was draped in alternate strips of pink 
 and white nraslin, with twenty-four splen- 
 did mirrors intervening; magnificent 
 chandeliers, suspended from the roof, con- 
 tributed to the brilliancy of the display. 
 
498 
 
 TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 GRAND BALL GIVEN TO THE PRINCE OF WALES, IN BOSTON. 
 
 All along the supper-room were two tables, 
 gorgeous in all the appointments of gold, 
 silver, and china ware, and the feast was 
 magnificent. 
 
 It was at first contemplated to give the 
 prince a grand public dinner, but this was 
 changed to a ball, because the prince, being 
 so young a man, could not be expected to 
 make an extemporaneous speech, and eti- 
 quette forbade any one speaking as his 
 substitute. 
 
 From New York, the prince sailed in the 
 government steamer Harriet Lane, for 
 West Point. Here he was received with 
 the highest honors known to the military 
 service ; and after visiting the command- 
 ant, and riding round the place, he ac- 
 cepted an invitation to review the cadets. 
 Eight battalion companies of cadets, eleven 
 files front, presented themselves on the 
 right of the line; then the company of 
 sappers and miners; then the battery of 
 four guns of light artillery, with a corps of 
 cadets acting as cannoneers ; and the left 
 was occupied by a detachment of dragoons. 
 
 In a few minutes after the formation of 
 the line, the prince and suite, with Lieu- 
 tenant-General Scott, appeared on the 
 parade ground, when Major Reynolds gave 
 the order to " Prepare for Review." The 
 ranks of the troops wdte opened, the artil- 
 lery unlimbered, the officers and colors to 
 the front, when the reviewing party 
 marched to the head of the military col- 
 umn, while the band played the air of 
 God Save the Queen. As the prince and 
 escort passed down the military line, the 
 band played the very elegant air of the 
 Flowers of Edinburgh. The reviewers 
 passed down the front, and between the 
 open ranks of the troops, back to their 
 original position on the parade ground. 
 The troops were then broke into column 
 by companies and marched in review 
 first in common time, then in quick time, 
 and finally in double quick time. As the 
 commandants of the companies passed and 
 saluted the prince, he gracefully raised his 
 hat in acknowledgment. 
 
 Leaving West Point, the prince pro- 
 
TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 499 
 
 ceeded to Albany, where he was received 
 by Governor Morgan and the state author- 
 ities. After spending an hour or two at 
 the capitol, he repaired to the governor's 
 residence, and dined there, Mr. Seward 
 and others being guests. The nest day 
 he took a special train for Springfield, 
 Mass., and thence to Boston. He was 
 conducted to his quarters by the Boston 
 authorities, an immense crowd following. 
 The principal occasions of interest, while 
 stopping in Boston, were as follows : On 
 Thursday he witnessed a great political 
 procession ; then received Ralph Farnham, 
 the survivor of Bunker Hill battle ; re- 
 viewed the troops on Boston Common ; 
 attended a children's musical entertain- 
 ment at the music hall ; and went to the 
 ball in the evening. On Friday, visited 
 Harvard college, and examined all the 
 objects of interest at that venerable seat of 
 learning ; and subsequently visited Mount 
 Auburn, Bunker Hill, and the Charles- 
 town navy yard. 
 
 A very interesting interview was that 
 with Ralph Farnham. The Duke of New- 
 castle, who, with most of the suite, was 
 present, asked the revolutionary veteran 
 if he saw Burgoyne when he surrendered, 
 adding, "You rather had him there!" 
 The old soldier then remarked, chucklingly, 
 that hearing so much said in praise of the 
 prince, he began to fear that the people 
 were all turning royalists. This and Mr. 
 Farnham's manner elicited much laughter, 
 in which the prince fully joined. The 
 prince then sent for pen and ink, and 
 exchanged autographs with his visitor 
 one of the men who had stood before Brit- 
 ish soldiers in 1776, in a manner and with 
 a bearing very different from that with 
 which he received the prince's courtesies 
 and exchanged glances with the majors, 
 colonels, and guardsmen of the royal suite. 
 Mr. Farnham afterwards spoke of the 
 interview with the greatest pleasure, re- 
 marking that " he wished to show the boy 
 and his soldiers that he bore no anger for 
 old times." 
 
 The musical festival was a novel and 
 pleasant entertainment, at Music Hall. 
 
 Twelve hundred school children were ar- 
 ranged upon seats sloping from the floor to 
 the ceiling, and from the platform one 
 could see two large triangles of boys, and 
 two immense parallelograms of gayly- 
 dressed girls, while between them was an 
 orchestra of sixty performers. As the 
 prince entered, the whole company rose, 
 and the masses of children waved handker- 
 chiefs and clapped hands, producing a h'lK 
 effect. 
 
 A grand success, too, was the ball, given 
 at the Boston Theater, not exceeded in 
 splendor by that in New York. If one 
 can imagine the immensity of this thea- 
 ter ; the dancing floor inclosed as by a 
 pavilion, each tier differently and most 
 richly decorated, and crowded with su- 
 perbly dressed ladies ; the royal box all 
 aglare with light, and rich in gilt, purple, 
 and azure; the frescoed ceiling, with its 
 pendant dome of light, the marquee, with its 
 groves, flowers, mirrors, arabesque ceiling, 
 its multiform and varied decorations, and 
 its view of Windsor Castle, seen as if from 
 some immense window ; if one can imag- 
 ine this scene, and then crowd it with 
 richly dressed ladies, with gentlemen in 
 every variety of ball costume, while, over 
 all, the lights streamed their brilliant 
 radiance, mirrors and jewels flashing back 
 and reduplicating the rays, arid the soft, 
 sweet swell of the music bearing with it 
 the graceful moving throng in a bewilder- 
 ing maze of beauty, an adequate idea of 
 the magnificent occasion may possibly be 
 gained. 
 
 Curiously enough, the Boston ball op- 
 ened something like that in New York ; 
 for all the committees, being anxious to 
 speak to the prince, and leaning forward 
 to do so, crash went a large vase of flowers, 
 scattering its contents over the prince. 
 There were profuse apologies, but the 
 prince was laughing so heartily, that he 
 could not hear nor speak. 
 
 The prince's appreciation of American 
 ladies was very marked. At the Boston 
 ball, he remarked slyly to a beautiful 
 belle, " They made me dance with the old 
 chaps in Canada." At Montreal, lie 
 
500 
 
 TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 danced with Miss Blackburn, of Natchez, 
 a lady of great beauty ; so enchanted did 
 the prince become, that he afterward in- 
 quired for her and expressed a desire to 
 meet again. Among those with whom he 
 danced, at the Cincinnati ball, was the 
 beautiful Miss Groesbeck, daughter of 
 Hon. John Groesbeck. The reporters 
 represent that Miss Groesbeck, who was 
 the belle of the evening, wore .a white 
 tulle dress, puffed to the waist, low neck, 
 but wore no jewelry ; her mother, however, 
 wore elegant diamond ear-drops, rings, and 
 pins. When, therefore, one of the officers 
 of the evening announced to Miss Groes- 
 beck that she was to be honored with the 
 prince's hand for the second dance, Mrs. 
 Groesbeck quietly took off her own jewelry 
 and passed them to her favored daughter ; 
 the latter declined them. Her mother 
 insisted; !>ut Miss Groesbeck, with equal 
 determination, positively refused to wear 
 any kind of ornament other than her sim- 
 ple dress and the wealth of beauty which 
 Nature had bestowed on her. 
 
 It is not exaggerating, to say that the 
 prince made an agreeable impression 
 wherever he went. He was described by 
 ne of the newspaper reporters, as follows : 
 'He seems to be about five feet four inches 
 high ; his eye is beautifully blue, mild, 
 funny, clear, and jolly; his nose is well 
 defined, not perfectly straight, but clean- 
 cut and prominent; his mouth is full, and 
 his chin retreats wonderfully. His coun- 
 tenance indicates a happy dispositioned, 
 good-natured, humorous, fun-loving boy, 
 who knows what he is about, and can't 
 easily be fooled. His hair is soft and fine, 
 though disposed to grow rather low down 
 the neck and on the forehead, whilst his 
 head is well shaped, and would indicate 
 firmness, benevolence, quickness of percep- 
 tion, and love of music. The very, very 
 large hands and feet of the young gentle- 
 man are but reproductions of those of hia 
 
 royal mother, to whom Dame Nature has 
 been very generous in that regard. His 
 form is small and very well proportioned, 
 and his bearing is dignified, manly, and 
 modest." His dress varied much, of 
 course, with the place and occasion, but 
 was always simple, elegant, and appro- 
 priate. 
 
 Portland, Me., was the place from which 
 the illustrious guest of the nation took his 
 departure for England. As the royal 
 barge left the wharf to convey the prince 
 to the Hero, the British squadron all fired 
 a royal salute of twenty-one guns, and sim- 
 ilar salutes were fired from the city and 
 from Fort Preble. The harbor was full of 
 steamers, sail-boats, barges, etc., which 
 accompanied the royal barge from the 
 wharf. As the flotilla neared the royal 
 squadron, the yards were manned, and this, 
 with the strings of bunting and flags flying 
 from every point- of the fleet, formed a 
 magnificent spectacle, which was witnessed 
 by an immense concourse of people. To 
 all the parting salutations, the British 
 ships responded by dipping their colors ; 
 and, as the squadron sailed, the bands oh 
 board each vessel played Yankee Doodle, 
 and Fort Preble saluted the party with 
 farewell guns as they passed. 
 
 So heart-felt, generous, and enthusiastic 
 a reception of the prince, in America, pro- 
 duced the highest satisfaction throughout 
 England. The queen, at an early day, 
 caused to be officially communicated to the 
 president and to the people of the United 
 States, "her grateful sense of the kindness 
 with which they received her son ; " the 
 hospitality shown him was warmly com- 
 plimented in parliament ; and Prince Al- 
 bert, as chancellor of the University of 
 Cambridge, directed that the annual gold 
 medal there given for the encouragement 
 of English poetry, should, that year, be 
 awarded for the best poem on " The Prince 
 of Wales at the Tomb of Washington." 
 
l.XT. 
 
 BOMBARDMENT AND REDUCTION OF FORT SUM- 
 
 TER. 1861. 
 
 Inauguration of Civil War in the United States. First Military Act in the Long and Bloody Struggle 
 to Dismember the Union. Organization of the Southern Confederacy. President Lincoln's Procla- 
 mation for 75,000 Volunteers. Spontaneous Uprising of the Loyal People. Calling the Battle-Roll 
 of the Republic Supreme Crisis in the Fate of the Nation. Northern and Southern Variances. Slav- 
 ery the Cause of Contention. Culmination of the Antagonism. Disunion the Banner of the South. 
 Secession of Several States. War Wager Boldly Staked. Vain Efforts at Reconciliation. Federal 
 Property Seized at the South. Batteries Erected at Charleston. Fort Sumter Closely Besieged. 
 Beauregard Demands its Surrender. Major Anderson's Flat Refusal. Weakness of His Garrison. 
 Attempts to Re-enforce It Prevented by Confederate Batteries. All Eyes Riveted on the Fort. 
 Opening of the Attack, April 14th Incessant and Tremendous Fire. Terms of Evacuation Accepted. 
 Southern Rejoicings. The Great Military Outlook. Washington the National Key. 
 
 * Can either of yon to-day name one single act of wrong, deliberately and purposely done by the government at Washington, of whiek 
 the South has a ri^ht to complain ? 1 challenge an anawer." Hon. ALEX. Id. STEPHENS, BEFORE THE GEOBOIA SECESSION CUHVEIT- 
 Tioir. 
 
 IGHTY-FOUR years had now 
 sped their course, since the 
 republic of the United States, 
 with the immortal Declara- 
 tion of Independence as its Magna Char- 
 ta of sovereignty, took a place among 
 the governments of the earth as a free 
 and independent nation, and, during all 
 that long period, the federal armies had 
 been called to face with but an occa- 
 sional local and transient exception 
 only external or savage foes. Party 
 spirit, it is true, had not unfrequently 
 ran high, and hurled defiance at law and its administrators, and at times, the strain 
 upon the ship of state seemed near to proving its destruction ; but forbearance, com- 
 promise, fraternity and patriotism, smoothed the rough waves of contention, and peace 
 regained her benign sway. 
 
 But the long existing and bitter antagonism of opinion on the subject of slavery, 
 between the North and the South, culminated at last on the inauguration of Mr. 
 Lincoln as president, in 1861. in a civil war, the extent, duration, and horrors of 
 which have never been paralleled in any age or among any people, since the world 
 
 V 
 
 FLAG OF FORT SCMTEK, AFTER THE BOMBARDMENT. 
 
502 
 
 BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTEE. 
 
 began. In vain did President Lincoln de- 
 clare, in his inaugural, his opposition to 
 any interference with slavery in the states 
 where it existed, in vain were assurances 
 to the same effect proffered by the party 
 that had just triumphed in the presiden- 
 tial contest, and in vain were conferences 
 and consultations held by the leading 
 statesmen and politicians of different sec- 
 tions, with a view to avert the calamity of 
 war. 
 
 Intent on a separate national existence, 
 under which they might maintain unmo- 
 lested, as well as extend, the institution of 
 slavery, the southern states recalled their 
 senators and representatives from congress, 
 flung out the bannes of Secession which 
 was the wager and signal of War, and, 
 as an initial step, commenced the seizure 
 of United States custom-houses, arsenals, 
 forts, and other public property, within 
 their borders. 
 
 First in order of importance, in this 
 startling programme of overt acts, was the 
 movement of the authorities of South Car- 
 olina to possess themselves of Fort Sum- 
 ter, in Charleston harbor, before opportu- 
 nity should be gained by the national 
 government to re-enforce its scanty re- 
 sources of men and provisions. To this 
 end, extensive batteries were erected on 
 the shores opposite the fort, by means of 
 which, any ordinary naval force which the 
 federal authorities then had available for 
 conveying supplies, could easily be crippled 
 in attempting such assistance. 
 
 In this besieged condition, the brave 
 and loyal commander of the fort, Major 
 Robert Anderson, and his true-hearted 
 men, were kept for several weeks, with the 
 eager eyes of millions of admiring coun- 
 trymen riveted upon them. The vessel 
 which was finally dispatched by the rfiivy 
 department for their relief, was shelled by 
 the batteries and compelled to return 
 without fulfilling her mission. This was 
 done in accordance with the orders received 
 from the secession authorities at Mont- 
 gomery, Ala., where a government styled 
 the Confederate States of America had 
 been formally established, with Jefferson 
 
 Davis as president, and which was to as- 
 sume all the responsibility and direction 
 of that mighty struggle through which, as 
 they expected, southern independence was 
 to be secured, and the Republic of the 
 United States rent in twain. 
 
 After various official preliminaries, on 
 either side, but without arriving at any 
 satisfactory understanding, a demand was 
 made, April llth, by General Beauregard, 
 commander of the insurgent batteries, for 
 the surrender of the fort. This demand 
 was declined by Major Anderson all the 
 officers having been consulted by him in 
 regard to the summons. At about three 
 o'clock, on the morning of the 12th, notice 
 was given that fire would be opened on the 
 fort in one hour, unless the demand to 
 surrender was instantly complied with. 
 Major Anderson resolved not to return fire 
 until broad daylight, not wishing to waste 
 any of his ammunition. From the state- 
 ments made by the officers of Fort Sumter, 
 it appears that fire was opened upon the 
 fort from all points at once, and, to the 
 astonishment of its defenders, a masked 
 battery of heavy columbiads opened on 
 them from that part of Sullivan's Island 
 near the floating battery, of the existence 
 of which Major Anderson had not the 
 slightest intimation. It was covered with 
 brush and other materials, which com- 
 pletely concealed it, and was skillfully con- 
 structed and well secured. Seventeen 
 mortars, firing ten-inch shell, and thirty- 
 three heavy guns, mostly columbiads, were 
 engaged in the assault. The crash made 
 by the shot against the walls was terrific, 
 and many of the shells took effect inside 
 the fort. The inmates took breakfast at 
 half-past six o'clock, leisurely and calmly, 
 after which the command was formed into 
 three reliefs, equally dividing the officers 
 and men. The first relief was under the 
 command of Captain Doubleday, of the 
 artillery, and Lieutenant Snyder, of the 
 engineer corps. This detachment went to 
 the guns and opened fire upon the Cum- 
 mings's Point battery, Fort Moultrie, and 
 Sullivan's Island. The Iron Battery was 
 of immense strength, so that most of the 
 
BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 
 
 5U3 
 
 shots from Fort Sumter struck and glanced 
 off again. The fire was so terrible on the 
 parapet of Fort Sumter, that Major Ander- 
 son refused to allow the men to man the 
 guns. Had they been permitted to do so, 
 every one of them would have been sacri- 
 ficed. Fort Monltrie was considerably 
 damaged by the cannonading from Fort 
 Sumter, a great many shots having taken 
 effect on the embrasures. A new English 
 rifled gun, which was employed by the 
 insurgents, was fired with great accuracy, 
 several of its shots entering the embra- 
 sures of Fort Sumter, and one of them 
 slightly wounded four men. 
 
 The reliefs were changed every four 
 hours, and the men owed their safety to 
 the extraordinary care exercised by the 
 officers in command. A man was kept 
 constantly on the look-out, who would cry 
 ' shot,' or ' shell,' at every shot the enemy 
 made, thus affording the men exposed 
 ample opportunity for shelter. The gar- 
 rison was lamentably weak in numbers ; 
 but the workmen, though at first rather 
 reluctant to assist the soldiers in handling 
 the guns, gradually took hold and rendered 
 yaluable assistance. Indeed, but, few shots 
 were fired before every one of them be- 
 came desperately engaged in the conflict. 
 They had to abandon one gun, on account 
 of the close fire made upon it. Hearing 
 the fire renewed with it, however, an offi- 
 cer went to the spot, and there found a 
 party of workmen still employed in serving 
 it. One of the workmen was stooping 
 
 over it with his hands on his knees, con- 
 vulsed with joy, with the tears rolling 
 down his powder-begrimined cheeks. 
 "What are you doing here with that 
 gun ? " the officer asked. " Hit it right 
 in the center,'' was the reply, the man 
 meaning that his shot had taken effect in 
 the center of the floating battery. 
 
 The aim of the insurgents was particu- 
 larly directed at the flag-staff, from which 
 waved proudly the stars and stripes ; and, 
 after two days' incessant firing, the flag- 
 staff was finally shot away. The effect 
 of such continuous firing was terribly 
 damaging. " On,e tower," says one of 
 the garrison, " was so completely de- 
 molished that not one brick was left 
 standing upon the other. The barracks 
 caught fire on the first day several times, 
 but in every instance was put out by Mr. 
 Hart, of New York, a volunteer, who par- 
 ticularly distinguished himself for his 
 coolness and bravery. On the second dav, 
 the barracks crught fire from a ten-inch 
 shell, and the danger to be encountered in 
 the attempt to extinguish it being so great, 
 the major concluded not to attempt it. 
 The effect of the fire was more disastrous 
 that we could have supposed. The subse- 
 quent shots of the enemy took more effect 
 in consequence ; the walls were weakened, 
 and we were more exposed. The main 
 gates were destroyed by fire, thus leaving 
 us exposed to the murderous aim of the 
 enemy. Five hundred men could have 
 formed on the gorge, and marched on us 
 without our being able to oppose them. 
 The fire spread around the fort on all sides. 
 Fearful that the walls might crack, and 
 the shells pierce and prostrate them, we 
 commenced taking the powder out of the 
 magazine before the fire had fully envel- 
 oped it. We took ninety-six barrels of 
 powder out, and threw them into the sea, 
 leaving two hundred barrels in. Owing 
 to a lack of cartridges, we kept five men 
 inside the magazine, to sew them up as we 
 wanted them, thus consuming our shirts, 
 sheets, blankets, and all the available ma- 
 terial in the fort. When we were finally 
 obliged to close the magazine, and our 
 
5U4 
 
 BOMBARDMENT OF FOET SUMTEE. 
 
 material for cartridges was exhausted, we 
 were left destitute of any means to con- 
 tinue the contest. We had eaten our last 
 biscuit thirty-six hours before. We were 
 very nearly stifled with the dense smoke 
 from the burning buildings. The men lay 
 prostrate on the ground, with wet hand- 
 kerchiefs over their mouths and eyes, gasp- 
 ing for breath. It was a moment of immi- 
 nent peril. If an eddy of wind had not 
 ensued, we all, probably, would have been 
 suffocated. The crashing of the shot, the 
 bursting of the shells, the falling of walls, 
 and the roar of the flames, made a Pande- 
 monium of the fort. We nevertheless 
 kept up a steady fire. Early in the after- 
 noon of the 13th, ex-senator Wigfall, of 
 Texas, who had become an officer in the 
 Confederate military service, seeing the 
 inequality of the contest, made his appear- 
 ance at one of the embrasures with a white 
 handkerchief on the end of a sword, and 
 begged for admittance. He asked to see 
 Major Anderson. While Wigfall was in 
 the act of crawling through the embrasure, 
 Lieutenant Snyder called out to him, 
 "Major Anderson is at the main gate." 
 He passed through the embrasure into the 
 casement, paying no attention to what the 
 lieutenant had said. Here he was met 
 by Captain Foster and Lieutenants Mead 
 and Davis. In an excited manner he 
 said 
 
 " Let us stop this firing. You are on 
 fire, and your flag is down. Let us quit." 
 
 "No, sir," replied Lieutenant Davis, 
 "our flag is not down. Step out here, and 
 you will see it waving over the ramparts." 
 
 "Let us quit this," said Wigfall; 
 " here's a white flag will anybody wave 
 it out of the embrasure ? " 
 
 " That is for you to do, if you choose," 
 replied one of the officers. 
 
 " If there is no one else to do it, I will," 
 said Wigfall. 
 
 He immediately jumped into the em- 
 brasure, and waved the flag towards Fort 
 Moultrie. The firing, however, still con- 
 tinued from Moultrie and the batteries of 
 Sullivan's Island. In answer to his re- 
 peated request, one of the officers said 
 
 that one of Sumter's men might hold the 
 flag, and Corporal Binghurst jumped into 
 the embrasure. The shot continuing to 
 strike all around him, he leaped down 
 again, after having waved the flag a few 
 moments, and exclaimed 
 
 " They don't respect this flag ; they are 
 firing at it." 
 
 "They fired at me two or three times," 
 replied Wigfall, "and I stood it, and I 
 should think you might stand it once. If 
 3'ou will show a white flag from your ram- 
 parts, they will cease firing." 
 
 " If you request," said Lieutenant Da- 
 vis, "that a flag shall be shown there, 
 while you hold a conference with Major 
 Anderson, and for that purpose alone, it 
 may be done." 
 
 At this point Major Anderson came up. 
 Wigfall said, "I am General Wigfall, and 
 come from General Beauregard, who 
 wishes to stop this." 
 
 Major Anderson, rising to his full 
 height, replied, " Well, sir ! " 
 
 "Major Anderson," exclaimed Wigfall, 
 "you have defended your flag noLly, sir. 
 You have done all that it is possible for 
 men to do, and General Beauregard wishes 
 to stop the fight. On what terms, Major 
 Anderson, will you evacuate this fort ? " 
 
 "General Beauregard is already ac- 
 quainted with my only terms," was Major 
 Anderson's reply. 
 
 " Do I understand that you will evacuate 
 upon the terms proposed the other day?" 
 inquired Wigfall. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and on those conditions only." 
 
 "Then, sir," said Wigfall, "I under- 
 stand that the fort is to be ours." 
 
 " On these conditions onlj', I repeat." 
 
 "Very well," said "Wigfall, and he re- 
 tired. 
 
 A short time afterwards, a deputation, 
 consisting of Senator Chesnut, Roger A. 
 Pryor, Capt. S. D. Lee, and W. Porcher 
 Miles, came from General Beauregard and 
 had an interview with Major Anderson, 
 when it came out that Wigfall had no 
 authority to speak for General Beauregard, 
 but acted on his own responsibility. 
 " Then," said Lieutenant Davis, " we have 
 
BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 
 
 505 
 
 been deceived ; " and Major Anderson, 
 perceiving the state of the case, ordered 
 the American flag to be raised to its place. 
 The deputation, however, requested him 
 to keep the flag down until they could 
 communicate with General Beauregard, as 
 matters were liable to be complicated. 
 They left, and, between two and three 
 hours after, the garrison meanwhile exert- 
 ing themselves to extinguish the fire in 
 the barracks, another deputation came 
 from General Beauregard, agreeing to the 
 terms of evacuation previously proposed. 
 This was on Saturday evening. That 
 night the garrison took what rest they 
 could. Next day, the steam-boat Isabel 
 came down and anchored near the fort. 
 
 The steamer Clinch was used as a trans- 
 port to take the garrison to the Isabel, but 
 the transfer was too late to allow the Isa- 
 bel to go out with that tide. The terms 
 of evacuation agreed to were, that the gar- 
 rison should take their individual and 
 company property, and that they should 
 march out with their side and other arms, 
 with all the honors of war, in their own 
 way, and at their own time, and that they 
 should salute their flag and take it with 
 them. 
 
 The insurgents agreed to furnish trans- 
 ports, as Major Anderson might select, to 
 any part of the country, either by land or 
 by water. When, the baggage of the gar- 
 
 rison was all on board of the transport, the 
 soldiers remaining inside under arms, a 
 portion were- designated as gunners to 
 serve in saluting the American flag. 
 When the last gun was- fired, the flag was 
 lowered, the men cheering. At the fiftieth 
 discharge there was a premature explosion, 
 which killed one man instantly, seriously 
 wounded another, and two more not so 
 badly. The men were then formed and 
 marched out, the band playing " Yankee 
 Doodle " and " Hail to the Chief." 
 
 In regard to the mode ol action pursued 
 by Major Anderson, during the bombard- 
 ment, his sagacity was everywhere mani- 
 fest. So small was the number of his 
 men, as to necessitate their division into 
 reliefs, or equal parties, so as to work 
 the different batteries by turns, each 
 four hours. 'Another account of this 
 terrible scene states that the first relief 
 opened upon the iron batteries at Cum- 
 mings Point, at a distance of sixteen 
 hundred yards, the iron floating bat- 
 tery, distant some eighteen hundred or 
 two thousand yards at the end of Sulli- 
 van's Island, the enfilading battery on 
 Sullivan's Island, and Fort Moultrie, 
 Captain Doubleday firing the first 
 gun, and all the points just named be- 
 ing opened upon simultaneously. For 
 the first four hours, the firing was kept 
 up with great rapidity ; the enthusiasm 
 of the men, indeed, was so great that 
 the second and third reliefs could not be 
 kept from the guns. This accounts for 
 the fact that double the number of guns 
 were at work during the first four hours 
 than at any other time. 
 
 Shells burst with the greatest rapidity 
 in every portion of the work, hurling the 
 loose brick and stone in all directions, 
 breaking the windows, and setting fire to 
 whatever wood-work they burst against. 
 The solid shot firing of the enemy's bat- 
 teries, and particularly of Fort Moultrie, 
 was directed at the barbette guns of Fort 
 Sumter, disabling one ten-inch and one 
 eight-inch columbiad, one f orty-two pound- 
 er, and two eight-inch sea-coast howit- 
 zers, and also tearing away a large portion 
 
506 
 
 BOMBARDMENT OF FOKT SUMTER. 
 
 of tlie parapet. The firing from the bat- 
 teries on Cummings Point was scattered 
 over the whole of the gorge, 'or rear, of the 
 fort. It looked like a sieve. The explo- 
 sion of shells, and the quantity of deadly 
 missiles hurled in every direction and at 
 every instant of time, made it almost cer- 
 tain death to go out of the lower tier of 
 casements, and also made the working of 
 the barbette, or upper uncovered guns, 
 which contained all the heaviest metals, 
 and by which alone shells could be thrown, 
 quite impossible. During the first day 
 there was hardly an instant of time that 
 there was a cessation of the whizzing of 
 balls, which were sometimes coming half a 
 dozen at once. There was not a portion of 
 the work which was not seen in reverse 
 that is, exposed by the rear from mor- 
 tars. 
 
 On Friday, before dinner, several of the 
 vessels of the fleet beyond the bar were 
 seen through the port-holes. They dipped 
 their flag. The command ordered Sum- 
 ter's flag to be dipped in return, which 
 was done, while the shells were bursting 
 in every direction. The flagstaff was lo- 
 cated in the open parade, being about the 
 center of the open space within the fort. 
 Sergeant Hart saw the flag half-way down, 
 and, supposing that it had been cut by the 
 enemy's shot, rushed out through the fii-e 
 to assist in getting it up. Shortly after it 
 had been re-raised, a shell burst and cut 
 the halyards, but the rope was so inter- 
 twined around the halyards, that the flag 
 would not fall. Sergeant Hart also par- 
 ticularly distinguished himself in trying to 
 put out the flames in the quarters, with 
 shells and shot crashing around him; and, 
 though ordered away by Major Anderson, 
 he begged hard to be permitted to remain 
 and continue his exertions. 
 
 One great misfortune was, that there 
 was not an instrument in the fort by which 
 they could weigh powder, which of course 
 destroyed all attempt at accuracy of firing. 
 Nor were there any tangent scales, breech 
 sides, or other instruments with which to 
 point a gun. When it became so dark as 
 to render it impossible to see the effect of 
 
 their shot, the port-holes were closed for 
 the night, while the batteries of the seces- 
 sionists continued their fire the whole 
 night. The firing of the rifled guns from 
 the iron battery on Cummings Point be- 
 came extremely accurate in the afternoon 
 of Friday, cutting out large quantities of 
 the masonry about the embrasures at every 
 shot. One piece struck Sergeant Kearnan, 
 an old Mexican war veteran, striking him 
 on the head and knocking him down. 
 Upon being revived, he was asked if he 
 was hurt badly. He replied, " No ! I was 
 only knocked down temporarily ; " and he 
 went to work again. On Saturday, when 
 the barracks were on fire, the wind sc 
 directed the smoke as to fairly fill the fort, 
 so that the men could not see each other, 
 and, with the hot, stifling air, it was as 
 much as a man could do to breathe. Soon 
 they were obliged to cover their faces with 
 wet cloths in order to get along at all, so 
 dense was the smoke and so scorching the 
 heat. But few cartridges were left, and 
 the guns were fired slowly ; nor could more 
 cartridges be made, on account of the 
 sparks falling in every part of the works. 
 A gun was fired every now and then, only 
 to let the people and the fleet in the town 
 know that the fort had not been silenced. 
 The cannoneers could not see to aim, much 
 less where they hit. 
 
 After the barracks were well on fire, the 
 shells and ammunition in the upper ser- 
 vice-magazines exploded, scattering the 
 tower and upper portions of the building 
 in every direction. The crash of the 
 beams, the roar of the flames, the rapid 
 explosion of the shells, and the shower of 
 fragments of the fort, with the blackness 
 of the smoke, made the scene indescriba- 
 bly terrific and grand. This continued for 
 several hours. Meanwhile, the main gates 
 were burned down, the chassis of the bar- 
 bette guns were burned away on the gorge, 
 and the upper portions of the towers had 
 been demolished by shells. There was not 
 a portion of the fort where a breath of air 
 could be got for hours, except through a 
 wet cloth. The fire spread through to the 
 men's quarters, on the right hand and on 
 
BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 
 
 507 
 
 UTTERIOR OF FORT SUJ1TEK AFTER TUB BOMBAKIJME.Ni.3gg| 
 
 the left, and endangered the powder that 
 had been taken out of the magazines. 
 The men went through the fire and cov- 
 ered the barrels with wet cloths, but the 
 danger of the fort's blowing up became so 
 imminent, that they were obliged to heave 
 the barrels out of the embrasures. While 
 the powder was being thrown overboard, 
 all the guns of Moultrie, of the iron float- 
 ing battery, of the enfilade battery, and 
 the Dahlgren battery, worked with in- 
 creased vigor. 
 
 The interior of Fort Sumter, as seen 
 after the evacuation and described by the 
 newspaper reporters, showed the work that 
 had been done during the bombardment. 
 Every point and every object, to which the 
 eye was turned, except the outer walls and 
 casements, bore the impress of ruin. The 
 walls of the internal structure, roofless, 
 bare, blackened and perforated by shot and 
 shell, hung in fragments, and seemed in 
 instant readiness to totter down. Near 
 the center of the parade ground was the 
 hurried grave of one who had fallen in 
 defense of his country's flag. To the left 
 of the entrance was a man who seemed at 
 the verge of death. In the ruins to the 
 right there was another. The shattered 
 flag-staff, marked by four balls, lay on the 
 
 
 ground. The parade ground was strewn 
 with fragments of shell and of the dilapi- 
 dated buildings. At least four guns were 
 dismounted on the ramparts, and at every 
 step the way was impeded by materials of 
 the broken structure. The whole scene 
 was one of frightful desolation, causing 
 indescribable feelings in every loyal heart. 
 On the 18th of April, Major Anderson, 
 then on his way to New York, in the 
 steamship Baltic, penned his official dis- 
 patch to Mr. Cameron, secretary of war, 
 stating that, "having defended Fort Sum- 
 ter for thirty-four hours, until the quar- 
 
508 
 
 BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. 
 
 ters were entirely burned, the main gates 
 destroyed by fire, the gorge wall seriously 
 injured, the magazine surrounded by 
 flames, and its door closed from the effects 
 of the heat, four barrels and three car- 
 tridges of powder only being available, 
 and no provisions but pork remaining, I 
 accepted terms of evacuation offered by 
 General Beauregard, being the same of- 
 fered by him on the llth instant, prior to 
 the commencement of hostilities, and 
 marched out of the fort Sunday afternoon, 
 the 14th instant, with colors flying and 
 drums beating, bringing away company 
 and private property, and saluting my flag 
 with fifty guns." Major Anderson and his 
 men received the thanks of the govern- 
 ment for their gallant defense of the fort 
 against such odds. 
 
 As soon as the national flag had ceased 
 to wave over Fort Sumter, the president 
 issued a proclamation for an extra session 
 of congress, to convene July 4th, and also 
 calling for seventy-five thousand men, in 
 order "to maintain the honor, the integ- 
 rity, and existence of our national Union 
 and the perpetuity of popular government, 
 and to redress wrongs already long enough 
 endured." This proclamation was of 
 course spurned and ridiculed by the seven 
 states South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, 
 Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas 
 that had formed themselves into the 
 Southern Confederacy ; and, by the other 
 southern states, as also by the border 
 states, it was treated with mingled con- 
 tempt and indignation. But, throughout 
 the vast North and West, it was received 
 and responded to with an enthusiasm 
 which showed that the attempt to dismem- 
 ber the North American Republic and 
 blot it out from the map of nations, was to 
 be resisted to the last dollar and the last 
 man. The supreme hour in the history of 
 the nation had now arrived, and, reluctant 
 as were the loyal states to engage in the 
 horrors of fratricidal strife, the wager of 
 war was the only alternative which now 
 presented itself. The national fate hung 
 trembling in the scale of destiny, and the 
 
 people rose in their might; party lines 
 were obliterated; the battle-roll of the 
 republic was called ; the old flag seemed 
 never before so dear to the patriot's heart. 
 
 On the other hand, the successful reduc- 
 tion of Fort Surnter inspired universal 
 enthusiasm at the south, in behalf of the 
 secession cause, Virginia, Tennessee, 
 North Carolina, Arkansas, and Missouri 
 joined the Confederacy, and gigantic 
 preparations were made for a contest which 
 should result in separation and independ- 
 ence. Armies were formed and equipped, 
 and defensive fortifications erected, in all 
 the disunion states. 
 
 At the head of the armies of the loyal 
 states was Lieutenant-General Scott, di- 
 recting all the preparations and move- 
 ments for the impending conflict, and espe- 
 cially devoting his military skill to the 
 protection of the federal capital. It was 
 said that he had all along been averse, 
 from purely military considerations, to the 
 re-enforcement of Fort Sumter, it being, 
 like Charleston, of no strategic importance, 
 requiring a valuable force to hold it, with 
 no adequate advantage gained. He re- 
 garded Fort Pickens, in the Gulf, and 
 Washington, the capital, as the two keys 
 of the position. On the 4th of March, and 
 for some weeks afterward, it would have 
 been almost impossible for the federal gov- 
 ernment to defend Washington against 
 such a force as had already been collected 
 by the secessionists before Sumter, and 
 which could be marched at any time on a 
 capital unprepared for defense. General 
 Scott's plans, based on these facts, were at 
 once laid. No time was lost in strength- 
 ening the capital. Success attended the 
 effort to increase the garrison of Fort 
 Pickens, and at last Washington was rea- 
 sonably safe. 
 
 And thus commenced what finally 
 proved to be the most gigantic and bloody 
 struggle in the annals of human strife, the 
 result of the conflict, too, being the most 
 momentous, perhaps, in its relations to the 
 interests of the human race, of any since 
 the world began. 
 
LXII. 
 
 ASTONISHING FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING PERFORMED 
 BY MR. JOHN S. RARET. 1861. 
 
 The most Savage and Furious Animals made Tractable as Lambs. The Ferocious and Far-Famed 
 "Cruiser" Lies Docile at His Master's Feet. Acclamations of Wonder and Admiration by Crowded 
 Audiences. Brilliant Honors from Monarchs and Courts Abroad. Philosophy of Mr. Rarey's 
 Method and Success. Mr. Rarey Personally. Boyhood Fondness for Horses. Aptness in Training 
 Them. Discovers an Improved Method. Its Perfect Success. Wild Prairie Horses Subdued. 
 Determines to Exhibit Abroad. His Skill Challenged in London. "Cruiser" to be the Great Test. 
 Rage and Fury of the Animal. Plunging, Rearing, Yelling, Biting. Rarey's Complete Triumph. 
 Monarchs and Princes Present. Their Surprise and Delight Victoria's Rapturous Applause. 
 Exhibitions in the United States. Terrible Cases Dealt With. Rarey Always Conqueror. His 
 Calm, Fine, Firm Voice. Cool, Quiet, Quick Movements. Magnetism of His Presence. Details of 
 the Svstem. 
 
 " lean break nny animal, of whatever age or habits, in the world. I can make any animal sensible of my power make him gentle and 
 te." MR. RAREY, AT NIBLO'S GABDES, NEW YOKE. 
 
 ertn affectionate.' 
 
 "CRUISER," CSTAMED. 
 
 OVEL and extraordinary, to a degree bordering 
 on the marvelous, were the exhibitions 
 with which the name of John S. Rarey, 
 of Ohio, became so popularly identified, 
 both in America and Europe, in the 
 management of that noblest, as well as 
 most useful and beautiful, of animals, the 
 horse. Wondering and delighted crowds 
 attended these exhibitions, in all 
 the principal cities of this country ; 
 and, abroad, crowned heads and 
 titled dignitaries were among the 
 gifted champion's most enthusias- 
 tic auditors, and there, as well as 
 at home, every American felt a 
 just pride in the laurels achieved 
 by their countryman. Such a 
 decided sensation, at once so 
 
 exciting, pleasant, and universal, may well have a place in the 
 national gallery of things noteworthy and agreeable. Surely, 
 few, if any, of the marvels recorded in that wonderful French 
 book, " The Great Wizard," which Dr. R. Shelton McKenzie 
 
510 
 
 RAREY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 has given to the English reader in so fasci- 
 nating a dress, can be said to equal the 
 feats performed by the very practical wiz- 
 ard of Ohio, in the different cities of the 
 Union in 1861, and which cast all that is 
 merely ideal or legerdemain far and for- 
 ever into the shade. 
 
 At the time of these astonishing tri- 
 umphs, Mr. Rarey was a slightly built 
 man, about thirty years of age. He was 
 the son of a stock farmer and breeder of 
 horses, who lived in Franklin county, Ohio, 
 and was himself engaged in a similar occu- 
 pation at a place called Groveport, about 
 ten miles from Columbus, the capital of 
 that state. From boyhood he is , tated to 
 have exhibited an intense fondi ^ss for 
 horses and a remarkable aptitude for 
 breaking and training them after the old 
 fashion, until he discovered a more humane 
 mode of treatment, and which he soon 
 put into practice with the greatest success 
 in his native state. The subjects on which 
 he operated were in many cases horses 
 reclaimed in a perfectly wild condition 
 from the western prairies, and in the 
 course of his experience he had several of 
 his limbs broken, but without at all damp- 
 ening his enthusiasm or diminishing his 
 faith. 
 
 Appreciating the Englishman's superior 
 love ant? care for the horse, Mr. Rarey 
 visited England at the outset of his career, 
 for the purpose of exhibiting and introduc- 
 ing his system of training in that country. 
 His success was such as to elicit the most 
 unbounded admiration, mingled with at , 
 least an equal degree of astonishment, n 
 the part of audiences the most crowded 
 and brilliant, including veteran horse- 
 trainers from far and near. Among the 
 latter class, were not a few who regarded 
 the American performer with somewhat of 
 professional jealousy, and it was not long 
 before the following challenge of his skill 
 was received by him from a high source : 
 " Mr. Rarey is a public man, and of course 
 exposed to criticism. Some of his experi- 
 ments have proved successful, but there 
 has not been time enough to develop 
 whether the docility of these horses upon 
 
 whom he has operated is as durable as he 
 alleges. If, however, he would 'walk over 
 the course,' and set criticism at defiance, 
 let him go down some morning to Mur- 
 rell's Green, with a few of his aristocratic 
 friends, and try, ' Cruiser,' and if he can 
 ride him as a hack I guarantee him immor- 
 tality, and an amount of ready money that 
 would make a British bank directors 
 mouth water. The 'initiated' will not be 
 surprised at my selecting Cruiser; but as 
 the public may be ignorant of him, I will 
 append some particulars of his history: 
 Cruiser was the property of Lord Dor- 
 chester, and was a favorite of the Derby 
 in Wild Daynell's year, but broke down 
 about a month before the race. Like all 
 horses of Venison blood, his temper was not 
 of the mildest kind, and his owner was glad 
 to get rid of him. When started for Raw- 
 cliffe, the man who had him in charge was 
 told on no account to put him in a stable, 
 as he would never get him out. This 
 injunction was of course disregarded, for 
 when the man wanted some refreshment 
 he put Cruiser in the public stable and 
 left him. To get him out, the roof of the 
 building had to be ripped off. At Raw- 
 cliffe, Cruiser was always exhibited by a 
 groom with a ticket-of-leave bludgeon in 
 his hand, and few were bold enough to 
 venture into the animal's inclosure, the 
 cordial wish of every visitor being ' that 
 some friendly bullet would lay him low.' 
 This animal, then, whose temper has 
 depreciated his value perhaps a thousand 
 pounds, I think would be 'the right horse 
 in the right place,' to try Mr. Rarey 'a 
 skill ; and as the locale is so near London, 
 the sooner the experiment is made the 
 better." This challenge was no sooner 
 received than accepted, and, as the vicious- 
 ness and ferocity of Cruiser had hitherto 
 utterly baffled every attempt at subjection, 
 the trial of Mr. Rarey's skill was looked 
 forward to with intense interest. 
 
 Cruiser's habit, it appears, was to 
 scream and yell when any one approached 
 him, to smash up his stall "into lucifer 
 matches," and to attempt to bite and de- 
 stroy every living thing in his neighbor- 
 
RAREY'S FEATS Of HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 51 L 
 
 hood. Noblemen used to go and throw 
 articles into his brick box, in order to see 
 him fight. When he was to be fed or 
 watered, the first proceeding with his 
 groom was to ascertain, by thrusting a long 
 pole in at the stable door, where the en- 
 emy stood, and then to deposit the food, 
 shut the door, and vanish as soon as pos- 
 sible. Mr. Rarey changed all this in a 
 moment, as it were. He ordered the sta- 
 ble door to be thrown open, introduced 
 himself according to his system, without 
 delay, and in half an hour the indomitable 
 Cruiser might be ridden by a child, could 
 listen tranquilly to the beating of a drum, 
 and stand serene even if an umbrella 
 were flourished in his face. Gentle as a 
 lamb, he followed his teacher about the 
 arena like a dog, stopping when he pointed 
 his finger, lying down when he was told, 
 rising again when he obtained permission, 
 and doing all this in a mild, good-humored 
 sort of way, as if the wish to oblige was 
 the sole ruling motive, and that the now 
 docile Cruiser was totally unaware of that 
 terrible array of wh ips and spurs, bits and 
 muzzles, with whlih his first teachers had 
 sought to check his ferocity and bring him 
 to reason. The speedy, easy, and com- 
 plete success of Mr. Rarey. in this remark- 
 able case, gave him, at once, the most flat- 
 tering and exalted reputation from one end 
 of Europe to the other. 
 
 On Mr. Rarey's appearance at Niblo's, 
 in New York, he exhibited this renowned 
 specimen of the equine race an animal 
 over sixteen hands high, and of immense 
 bone and muscle, and said: "When I 
 went to England and exhibited there, the 
 papers all said, ' This is very well, but try 
 Cruiser ! ' I immediately wrote to Lord 
 Dorchester, about the horse, and he replied 
 that the horse could not be brought to me, 
 but that I must come to him. I did go to 
 him. The horse had not been out of his 
 box for three years ; a brick stable had to 
 be built for him, and he would have been 
 shot, but he was the last of a race of splen- 
 did blood-horses, and his owner was anx- 
 ious to preserve him if possible. I found 
 that by his biting and kicking he had so 
 
 injured himself that he could not be taken 
 out of his box, and so I had to wait for his 
 recovery. I went down to see him, quietly 
 and unknown, but somehow the papers got 
 hold of it, and everybody said that I dared 
 not go near Cruiser." Under these cir- 
 cumstances, Mr. Rarey was detained some 
 three weeks, when he went to London, 
 accompanied by the now subdued steed. 
 
 The collar and muzzle which Cruiser 
 used to vear were exhibited by Mr. Rarey. 
 His owner could place them upon him 
 only by letting a rope down through the 
 roof of his stall, fastening it under his 
 neck, and raising him off his fore feet. 
 The exhibition at Niblo's was the first 
 time Cruiser had been on the stage in 
 America. " We have," said Mr. Rarey, 
 " had no rehearsal ; but instead of kicking, 
 as he used, he will now (as you see) give 
 me his foot like a gentleman." Two 
 
 JOHN S. RAREY. 
 
 straps were now shown, being all that had 
 been used in taming this horse. Mr. 
 Rarey, on being asked 'to explain, more 
 particularly, how he approached Cruiser, 
 said : " I think horses have a reason for 
 everything they do. I knew if I ap- 
 proached Cruiser with a stick he would 
 fight me, as he had fought others who 
 came to whip him. In the box was a 
 double door, so that I could open the 
 upper half. I went quietly; opened the 
 door noiselessly. Cruiser turned round, saw 
 me, started back frightfully, but did not 
 attempt to come at me. He came slowly 
 up to smell of me after a while, and, in 
 spite of Lord Dorchester's entreaties, I 
 
512 
 
 RAREY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 stood still. Presently, when I saw that 
 he stood naturally, I began to fondle him. 
 Lord Dorchester begged me to tie his 
 head, and I did so, but you never saw 
 such fighting. Finding that he would 
 either kill himself or tear down the box, I 
 released him, and began all over again. 
 After he allowed me to fondle him, I took 
 him into the straw-yard, and proceeded as 
 with any other horse, until at last he 
 would let me take any liberty with him, 
 and Lord Dorchester mounted him with 
 impunity." Mr. Rarey declared that 
 Cruiser was about as celebrated for his 
 viciousness as he himself was for taming 
 him. 
 
 A horse of the Messenger breed, excita- 
 ble and ferocious, was next operated upon. 
 By gently fondling his head and caressing 
 him, Mr. Rarey succeeded in managing 
 him perfectly. " See," said Mr. Rarey, 
 " I place this horse's foot upon me. There 
 is no danger. He would no more tread 
 heavily upon me than a mare upon her 
 foal." He sat upon the animal, put his 
 hoofs playfully together, and rested his 
 aead composedly between the horse's heels. 
 At first, Mr. Rarey fastened a strap round 
 the horse's fore leg, so as to make him 
 limp on three legs and finally kneel. 
 When the second strap was attached, a 
 struggle ensued, which ended in the ani- 
 mal's lying down, and here the art of Mr. 
 Rarey, in its perfect adaptedness to the 
 end sought, was made apparent. 
 
 Next in course was a wild horse from 
 South America, which threw Mr. Rarey 
 several times, plunging, rearing, and bit- 
 ing with rage and fury. On his leg, too, 
 Mr. Rarey attached the fatal strap, and, 
 after a prolonged struggle, the animal was 
 thrown, and his conquerer was upon him. 
 After rising up and sitting down again on 
 the horse's back several times, in order to 
 accustom the horse to the sensation, Mr. 
 Rarey raised him up, and, addressing the 
 audience from the animal's back, said : 
 "It is entirely wrong to leap upon a 
 horse's back and hold fast, no matter how 
 frightened he may be. There is now a 
 perfect understanding between us. All 
 
 horses like me after this process. They 
 all come to me gladly. This is the test of 
 breaking : If they fly away from you, then 
 know you have treated them badly ; if 
 they come to you, they know you are a 
 friend." No better illustration of the 
 truth of these remarks was needed than the 
 case then in hand. 
 
 Perhaps the most brilliant and magnifi- 
 cent reception ever accorded in Europe to 
 a private, untitled American, was on the 
 occasion of Mr. Rarey's performances in 
 London, when there were present the 
 Queen, Prince Albert, the princess royal, 
 the Prince of Wales, Prince Alfred, and 
 other members of the royal famity, with 
 the ladies of the court and most of the 
 foreign princes and distinguished visitors 
 then in the metropolis, including Prince 
 Frederick William of Prussia, the prince 
 of Prussia ; the Princes Frederick Charles, 
 Albert, Frederick Albert, and Adelbert, of 
 Prussia; Prince Hohenzollern Sigmarin- 
 gen, the Duke of Saxe Coburg and Gotha, 
 the Duke of Brabant, the Count of Flan- 
 ders, Prince William of Baden, Prince 
 Edward of Saxe Weimer, and Prince Jul- 
 ius of Holstein Glucksburg. The Duke 
 of Wellington, Major-General Sir Richard 
 Airey, Lord Paget, and countless other 
 dignitaries were also present. 
 
 The subjects on which Mr. Rarey oper- 
 ated were decided cases. One was a fine- 
 spirited black horse, of high nervous tem- 
 perament, which had been returned to Mr. 
 Anderson, of Picadilly, of whom he had 
 been bought for a large sum of money, oa 
 the ground of his being all but unmanage- 
 able. At the first private interview of 
 Mr. Rarey with this horse, the animal was 
 placed in a loose box, which Mr. Rarey 
 entered, cracking a whip. Startled by 
 this unusual exhibition of violence, the 
 horse struck out with both his hind legs, 
 and uttered a kind of savage yell. The 
 company who had assembled to witness 
 the experiment were then asked to with- 
 draw, and Mr. Rarey was left alone with 
 the horse. On being called in again, in 
 less than quarter of an hour, they were 
 amazed to find the animal prostrate on his 
 
RAREY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 513 
 
 side among the straw in the stall, with 
 his head slightly raised, and Mr. Rarey, 
 whom lie was eyeing without the slightest 
 symptom of alarm, lying beside him. Mr. 
 Rarey remained with him in this position 
 for some time, during which he knocked 
 the horse's fore and hind hoofs together, 
 made a pillow of his thighs, and finally got 
 up and ran a heavy wheelbarrow up to and 
 around the still prostrate creature, without 
 producing in him the slightest sensation 
 of fear. Subsequently, the mastery of 
 Mr. Rarey became so complete over this 
 horse, that, when laid on his side in a 
 loose box, a plank was placed against his 
 shoulder in sight of the horse, and a bar- 
 row run up it. He never moved. A 
 drum was also beaten on his back, and an 
 umbrella opened in his very face ; but he 
 remained stock still, and evinced no sign 
 of apprehension. 
 
 The next subject on which Mr. Rarey 
 experimented was a young unbroken colt, 
 brought from Prince Albert's farm, and 
 which had never been handled in any 
 way. This colt was led into the arena in 
 halter, and, after being left alone with the 
 horse-tamer a few minutes, the company 
 saw, as in the former case, this wild colt 
 lying on the ground, and the horse-tamer 
 by his side, who sat upon him and handled 
 his legs, feet, and every other part by 
 turns, a process during which the creat- 
 ure remained as gentle and passive as a 
 child. 
 
 After Mr. Rarey had parted with the 
 colt, a handsome bay-charger, belonging to 
 Prince Albert, was brought forward. This 
 horse was one of high spirit, which had 
 always shown great restlessness while be- 
 ing mounted and a constant tendency to 
 take fright, and, it was thought, would 
 thoroughly defy all of Mr. Rarey 's at- 
 tempts to tame him. In a short time, 
 however, the horse-tamer had him down 
 also, as submissive as all the rest, and was 
 seen crawling among his legs, sitting upon 
 his shoulders and hips, and knocking his 
 hoofs together. Then, bidding the horse 
 rise, which he did instantly, Mr. Rarey 
 jumped upon his back, and held by turns 
 
 33 
 
 an umbrella over his head and beat a tat- 
 too on a drum, the hitherto proud, restless 
 animal, now owning subjection to a new 
 master, remaining the while almost as 
 motionless as a statue. 
 
 All these remarkable feats were watched 
 throughout with the most intense interest 
 the Queen, in the enthusiasm of the 
 moment, herself rapturously applauding 
 with her own hands, and the whole com- 
 pany joining in prolonged demonstrations 
 of astonishment and delight. 
 
 In Paris, Mr. Rarey's method produced 
 unbounded excitement. In order to put 
 the system to a vigorous test, the emperor 
 caused to be purchased, at Caen, a four- 
 year-old horse, by "Tipple Cider," noted 
 for its violence, and for kicking furiously 
 whenever an attempt was made to put a 
 crupper on it. In the space of four days, 
 this horse was as docile with the saddle 
 and the harness as could be desired, and 
 he allowed a whip to be cracked about his 
 head, and a drum to be beaten on his back, 
 without any manifestation of fear. 
 
 Another most notable case was that of a 
 stallion belonging to the government, and 
 which was so untamable, so vicious, so 
 furious, in fact, that a resolution had been 
 adopted to kill it. The animal was lent 
 for the purpose by M. de Baylen, and as 
 many as three hundred members of the 
 Jockey and other clubs assembled to see 
 what Mr. Rarey could do with him. In 
 company with this horse, which arrived 
 with a noose-band on, and muzzled, and 
 led by two men, Mr. Rarey fastened him- 
 self up in a stall, and, in an hour after, he 
 came out mounted on its back. Although 
 the horse had always previously bitten the 
 legs of everyone who mounted him, he was 
 then perfectly quiet ; and though the very 
 sight of a whip was accustomed to put it 
 in a fury, it received a correction as qui- 
 etly as the best broken-in horse would 
 have done. The members of the Jockey 
 Club were astonished at what they wit- 
 nessed, and broke out into loud acclama- 
 tions of admiration, after which they 
 gathered round Mr. Rarey to compliment 
 him. 
 
514 
 
 KAEEY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 In London, again, Mr. Earey tested his 
 skill successfully, in the space of an hour, 
 on a famous bay mare, long pronounced 
 incurable who was so dangerous to ap- 
 proach in any way that she could not be 
 ridden, would strike with her fore feet like 
 a pugilist, and kick as well with her hind 
 feet. So savage was she, that no horse- 
 man had been able to ascertain her age by 
 looking at her teeth ; yet Mr. Earey not 
 only opened her mouth, but put his hand 
 into it several times, and told his audi- 
 ence that, in his opinion, she was eight 
 years old. Great cheers followed this tri- 
 umph of skill, but it was to be still 
 
 vast audience who sat in silence and sur- 
 prise almost approaching to awe was 
 greeted at its close with rounds of ap- 
 plause, and Mr. Earey was tumultuously 
 called for twice to receive an ovation of 
 cheers. 
 
 Visiting Eussia, a special exhibition 
 was given, by request, before the emperor 
 and his court. All etiquette was laid 
 aside by the royal spectators the em- 
 peror, and empress, and all present, enter- 
 ing into the humors of the evening with a 
 hearty abandonment, not only deeply grat- 
 ified at the novelty of the entertainment, 
 but also with the privilege of giving vent 
 
 MR. RAREY EXHIBITING HIS CELEBRATED METHOD OF TAMING HORSES. 
 
 further demonstrated on a thorough-bred, 
 high-spirited Arabian stallion, extremely 
 vicious, perfectly uncontrollable, biting at 
 every one that approached him, and that 
 would not suffer himself to be bridled ex- 
 cept blindfolded. On his arrival on this 
 occasion, at the railway station, he knocked 
 down his groom by kicking him on the 
 head ; and on being taken into the ring, 
 nearly broke the arm of the man who led 
 him in, by striking him with his fore feet. 
 Mr. Earey, notwithstanding, succeeded 
 after a desperate struggle, which lasted 
 for about an hour, in rendering him as 
 tractable as a lamb. This feat, which was 
 witnessed throughout by the whole of the 
 
 to their natural feelings. That nothing 
 might be wanting to fulfill the object of 
 the exhibition, the emperor had shrewdly 
 availed himself of his varied resources, in 
 in procuring such an animal as would test 
 Mr. Earey's powers to the greatest extent 
 the Eussian wilds affording, as is well 
 known, fearful specimens of untutored and 
 savage horse life. At a certain signal, 
 therefore, a perfectly wild brute from the 
 Steppes was brought into the arena, and 
 for the first time introduced to Mr. Earey's 
 notice. Two peasants, themselves semi- 
 barbarous, awed by the presence of the 
 emperor, and filled with intense fear by 
 the plunging and rearing of the horse in 
 
RAREY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 515 
 
 their charge, with difficulty restrained him 
 from breaking away, biting their flesh, 
 or knocking their brains out with his 
 heels, which at times cleaved the air with 
 fearful velocity, for the infuriated animal, 
 in the insanity of his captivity, absolutely 
 bit at interposing objects as if he were a 
 tiger. Mr. Rarey, perfectly self-possessed, 
 and to the surprise of all present, boldly 
 laid his hand upon his neck, and then 
 passed it gently over the ears, and in a 
 few moments ordered the peasants to un- 
 loose their rigorous hold on the ropes, 
 when Mr. Rarey proceeded to further pac- 
 ify the creature, his success being com- 
 plete. The emperor and the imperial 
 family looked on with amazement, while 
 the two peasants were struck dumb with 
 awe and wonder the effect being height- 
 ened when the emperor, half sternly and 
 half playfully, asked them "why they 
 could not thus handle the horse ! " 
 
 One of the worst specimens that Mr. 
 Rarey had to deal with in America, was a 
 New York car-horse, a very bad kicker, 
 striking with her fore feet, allowing no 
 one to approach her in her stable, very 
 treacherous, and giving no warning. When 
 the horse appeared upon the stage, it 
 was pronounced a tough-looking customer 
 enough, thin, wiry, dirty, stubborn, vic- 
 ious, evil-eyed. It had not been shod 
 except with all its feet tied, and then with 
 difficulty. Every time Mr. Rarey touched 
 it, the horse kicked most savagely. First 
 one little strap was tied on, however, and 
 then another. The horse fell easily, as it 
 had been used to be thrown thus to be 
 shod. But, when the straps were taken 
 off, and Rarey began his familiarities, then 
 caine the tug of war. It was kick and 
 bite, soothe and fondle, get up and fall 
 down, until at last the struggling beast 
 completely succumbed to the tamer's 
 kindness. Mr. Rarey's head lay be- 
 tween those formidable hoofs; his hand 
 unloosed the bridle which had not been 
 removed for months; he played black- 
 smith, too, hammering at the shoe without 
 any difficulty, and curing the last bit of 
 res lessness by turning the horse round 
 
 and round awhile. Mr. Rarey led off the 
 subdued old equine hag with as much com- 
 placency as if biting and kicking had 
 never been known. The astonishment of 
 the owner, who knew the horse so well, 
 only outran that of the audience. 
 
 The theory proclaimed by Mr. Rarey, 
 in his lectures and performances, was, that 
 hitherto the mode of treating this noble 
 animal at least in the preliminary stages 
 of breaking, etc., had proceeded on ideas 
 of his nature altogether erroneous and 
 cruel, and been invariably characterized 
 by unnecessary violence, provoking the 
 display of resistance and other kindred 
 qualities on his part, and so the evil has 
 been perpetuated. On the other hand, 
 the principle advocated by Mr. Rarey and 
 constituting the key to his success that of 
 extreme kindness and tenderness, con- 
 vinces the animal that man is his natural 
 master and friend, and elicits his confi- 
 dence and kindly regard. Appealing to 
 " the intellect and affections of the horse," 
 as the basis of his system of treatment, 
 Mr. Rarey was enabled to say, to his vast 
 and admiring audience at Niblo's Garden, 
 New York : 
 
 "I have never had an accident since I 
 became perfect in my system, and I don't 
 fear any. I have been among horses since 
 I was twelve years old, and at first had a 
 great many accidents. Every limb hag 
 been broken, except my right arm ; but be- 
 ing young, when these accidents happened, 
 the bones fortunately healed strongly. 
 Now I know horses' every thought, and 
 can break any animal, of whatever age 
 and habits, in the world. I can make any 
 animal sensible of my power make him 
 gentle and even affectionate." 
 
 The mechanical process employed in 
 this system, as described, consists in fast- 
 ening one fore leg by a strap first allow- 
 ing the horse to see and smell it passed 
 around the pastern and buckled close t 
 the forearm. Another strap is then fast* 
 ened to the pastern of the other fore leg, 
 and is either passed under a belt, previ- 
 ously buckled about the horse's body, and 
 its end held in one hand, or it may be held 
 
516 
 
 RAREY'S FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. 
 
 over his back. The horse is then gently 
 urged forward, and as he raises his free 
 fore foot to step, it is pulled from under 
 him by the operator. This brings him 
 upon his knees. A struggle ensues, in 
 which the man is sure to be the victor. 
 Next, by a sufficient pressure, the horse is 
 thrown upon his side and lies helpless. 
 The operator then soothes him with the 
 hand and voice, removes the straps, and 
 after a short period allows him to rise. 
 A single application is generally sufficient. 
 Mr. Rarey's cool, quiet, quick move- 
 ments, his calm, fine, firm voice, gave to 
 his presence a peculiar magnetism and 
 contributed greatly to his power over the 
 horse ; so that, in this respect, he achieved 
 a world-wide reputation, without a peer or 
 rival to divide his fame. The courage and 
 self-possession exhibited by him were ex- 
 traordinary, a patience, too, that nothing 
 could wear out, and a temper that nothing 
 could ruffle. Never in a hurry, he went 
 through his work in a way that showed it 
 to be, to him, a labor of love. 1'here was 
 
 no mystery, no charm, no drugs, employed 
 by him in his performances. He ex- 
 plained everything he was about to do, 
 and gave a reason for it; and then, by 
 doing it, successfully proved that his rea- 
 soning was correct. At the end of the 
 performance, the horse would walk quietly 
 about without the slightest appearance of 
 excitement or fatigue. But, while thus 
 sparing the horse, Mr. Rarey evidently 
 took an immensity of work out of himself, 
 seemingly undergoing a sustained mental 
 strain, in order that the horse, whose 
 instinct is so sharp, might not see the 
 slightest faltering in his proceedings. 
 His system, a slow and gentle, but irre- 
 sistible pressure, aimed not to crush, but 
 to subdue, and, to this end, perfect self- 
 control was indispensable. If, therefore, 
 at the most critical moment, he required 
 a riding-whip or a pocket handkerchief, he 
 called for it as coolly as one would for a 
 glass of lemonade, or as Nelson called for 
 the sealing-wax during the bombardment 
 of Copenhagen, 
 
LX1II. 
 
 BATTLE AT BULL RUN, VA., BETWEEN THE FEDERAL 
 AND CONFEDERATE ARMIES. 1861. 
 
 First Important Engagement in the Great Civil War. Severe Fighting for Many Hours. Most Disas- 
 trous Defeat of the Federal Troops. Their Uncontrollable Panic and Headlong Flight. The South 
 Jubilant. Gloom and Humiliation of the Loyal States. Three Months Since Sumter Fell. Armies 
 Massed at Washington and Richmond. Threats Against the Federal Capital. Irritation and Impa- 
 tience of the North. "On to Richmond!" the Union War- Cry. March of McDowell's Army. 
 Plan of the Movement Rousing the Southern Forces. Their Unexpected Strength. Uncertain 
 Fate of the Day. Re-enforcement for Confederates. Davis's Arrival on the Ground He Exclaims, 
 "Onward, My Brave Comrades!" Their Wild Enthusiasm. A Lost Battle for the Union. Com- 
 plete Demoralization. Three Miles of Scattered Troops. Arms, Stores, etc , Flung Away Dis- 
 tressing Sights and Sounds. Thanksgiving Appointed by Davis. Te Deums Sung in the Southern 
 Churches. Lessons Taught by this Battle. 
 
 "The sainted patriots cry, " IT CAKWOT BB!" 
 
 From heaven thev speak, and from their graves reveredi 
 
 The God whci yuve them victory will not tee 
 
 The temple shuttered which their toil hju reaiedl '' 
 
 MONUMENT OS THE BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 ORE than three months had passed since the cap 
 ture of Fort Sumter, and, during this exciting 
 period, throughout the country, the great contend- 
 ing parties had massed, respectively, immense bodies 
 of troops at Washington and Richmond, and their 
 vicinities. So deep was the indignation felt by the 
 upholders of the national cause, at the fall of Sum- 
 ter, and at the various hostile movements and expe- 
 ditions by the confederates which followed that 
 event, such as the fearless assault made upon the 
 federal soldiers while passing through Baltimore, 
 the destruction of railroads and telegraphs, the 
 seizure of Northerners' property at the South, the 
 loss of the Norfolk navy yard, the rout at and the 
 defiant threats of an advance on Washington, that 
 the cry of " On to Richmond," into which city the 
 confederate forces had poured from every part of 
 the South, both for defensive and aggressive opera- 
 tions, was heard on every side. Indeed, the pa- 
 tience of the North had become strained to its 
 utmost tension toward those whose alleged official 
 inactivity or tardiness was the assumed cause of the 
 insurgent army not having been, long since, scat- 
 tered and destroyed. 
 
oJ8 
 
 BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 There were of course those who did not 
 share this impetuosity, knowing well the 
 capacities of defense peculiar to Richmond 
 and its approaches, and keenly comprehend- 
 ing the disastrous effect upon the loyal 
 states of a lost battle in the open field, 
 immediately after the siege and reduction 
 of Sumter. * 
 
 To the pressure, however, of this almost 
 universal demand for an "onward move- 
 ment," General Scott at last yielded, and, 
 on the 21st of July, 18G1, the first really 
 important engagement between the union 
 and confederate forces took place on the 
 hanks of a stream called Bull Run, a few 
 miles to the north-west of Manassas Junc- 
 tion, Va., and about thirty miles south of 
 the Potomac at Washington. It was on 
 the 16th of July, that the union army, 
 commanded by General McDowell, and 
 officered by Generals Tyler, Hunter, 
 Richardson, Heintzelman, Patterson, and 
 Miles, commenced its march, the whole 
 number of men being some forty-five thou- 
 sand. The confederate force which they 
 were soon to encounter, was much larger, 
 and consisted of the division of General 
 Beauregard, intrenched at Mauassas Junc- 
 tion, re-enforced by the division under 
 General Johnston, previously stationed at 
 Winchester, in the valley of the Shenan- 
 doah, and a large body of reserves advanced 
 from Richmond and Aquia Creek. 
 
 On the 17th, the union army, in three 
 columns, continued their line of march, 
 the advance column occupying Fairfax 
 Court House about one hour before noon, 
 the confederates withdrawing as the union- 
 ists advanced. The cavalry pushed on to 
 Centreville ; and, on the 18th, the army 
 took up its march for the same place. The 
 advance, to this date, had been steadily 
 made on all sides, and the reported posi- 
 tions of the troops considered good at head- 
 quarters. In the afternoon, an engage- 
 ment took place at Blackburn's Ford. But 
 the character of this conflict, as well as the 
 general plan of the whole movement, will be 
 best understood by presenting here the im- 
 portant portion of General McDowell's offi- 
 cial report, or an abstract of the same. 
 
 On the evening of July 20th, McDow- 
 ell's command was mostly at or near Cen- 
 treville, and the confederate forces at or 
 near Manassas, about seven miles to the 
 south-west. Centreville is a place of a few 
 houses, mostly on the west side of a ridge 
 running nearly north and south. The 
 road from Centreville to Manassas Junc- 
 tion is along this ridge, crossing Bull Run 
 about three miles from the former place. 
 The Warrenton turnpike, which runs 
 nearly east and west, goes over this ridge, 
 through the village, and crosses Bull Run 
 about four miles from it, Bull Run having 
 a course between the crossing from north- 
 west to south-east. The first division, 
 Tyler's, was stationed on the north side of 
 the Warrenton turnpike, and on the east- 
 ern slope of the Centreville ridge, two 
 brigades on the same road, and a mile and 
 a half in advance, to the west of the ridge, 
 and one brigade on the road from Centre- 
 ville to Manassas, where it crosses Bull 
 Run at Blackburn's Ford. The second 
 division, Hunter's, was on the Warrenton 
 turnpike, one mile east of Centreville. 
 The third division, Heintzelman's, was on 
 a road known as the Old Braddock road, 
 which comes into Centreville from the 
 south-east, about a mile and a half from 
 the village. The fifth division, Miles's, 
 was on the same road with the third divis- 
 ion, and between it and Centreville. 
 
 The fight at Blackburn's Ford, on the 
 18th, showed that the confederates were 
 too strong at that point for the unionists 
 to force a passage there without great loss, 
 and, from all the information that could be 
 obtained, McDowell found that his only 
 alternative was to turn the extreme left of 
 the confederate position. Reliable infor- 
 mation was also obtained of an undefended 
 ford about three miles above the bridge, 
 there being another ford between it and 
 the bridge, which was defended. It was 
 therefore determined to take the road to 
 the upper ford, and, after crossing, to get 
 behind the forces guarding the lower ford 
 and the bridge, and after occupying the 
 Warrenton road east of the bridge, to send 
 out a force to destroy the railroad at or 
 
BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 519 
 
 near Gainesville, and thus break up the 
 communication between the confederate 
 forces at Manassas and those in the valley 
 of Virginia, before Winchester, which had 
 been held in check by Major-General Pat- 
 terson. Brigadier-General Tyler had been 
 directed to move with three of his brigades 
 on the Warrentori road, and commence 
 cannonading the enemy's batteries, while 
 Hunter's division, moving after him, 
 should, after passing a little stream called 
 Cub Run, turn to the right and north, and 
 move around to the upper ford, and there 
 turn south and get behind the enemy. 
 Heintzelman's division was to follow Hun- 
 ter's as far as the turning off place to the 
 lower ford, where he was to cross after the 
 enemy should have been driven out by 
 
 Hunter's division ; the fifth division, 
 Miles's, to be in reserve on the Centreville 
 ridge. The fourth division, Runyon's, 
 had not been brought to the front farther 
 than to guard the federal communications 
 by way of Vienna and the Orange and 
 Alexandria railroad. 
 
 The divisions, says General McDowell, 
 were ordered to march at half-past two 
 o'clock, A. M., so as to arrive on the ground 
 early in the day, and thus avoid the heat. 
 There was delay in the first division get- 
 ting out of its camp on the road, and the 
 other divisions were in consequence be- 
 
 tween two and three hours behind the time 
 appointed a great misfortune, as events 
 turned out. General Tyler commenced 
 with his artillery at half-past six A. M., 
 but the enemy did not reply, and after 
 some time it became a question whether he 
 was in any force in our front, and if he did 
 not intend himself to make an attack, and 
 make it by Blackburn's Ford. After firing 
 several times, and obtaining no response, I 
 held, (says this officer,) one of Heintzel- 
 man's brigades in reserve, in case we should 
 have to send any troops back to re-enforce 
 Miles's division. The other brigades 
 moved forward as directed in the general 
 orders. On reaching the ford, at Sudley's 
 Spring, I found part of the leading brig- 
 ade of Hunter's division, Burnside's, had 
 crossed, but the men were slow in 
 getting over, stopping to drink. As 
 at this time the clouds of dust from 
 the direction of Manassas indicated 
 the immediate approach of a large 
 force, and fearing it might come 
 down on the head of the column be- 
 fore the division could all get over 
 and sustain it, orders were sent back 
 to the heads of regiments to break 
 from the column and come forward 
 separately as fast as possible. Orders 
 were sent by an officer to the reserve 
 brigade of Heintzelman's division to 
 come by a nearer road across the 
 fields, and an aid-de-camp was sent to 
 Tyler to direct him to press forward 
 his attack, as large bodies of the 
 enemy were passing in front of him 
 to attack the division which had crossed 
 over. The ground between the stream 
 and the road leading from Sudley's 
 Spring south and over which Burnside's 
 brigade marched, was for about a mile 
 from the ford thickly wooded, whilst on 
 the right of the road, for about the same 
 distance, the country was divided between 
 fields and woods. About a mile from the 
 road, the country on both sides of the 
 road is open, and, for nearly a mile 
 further, large rolling fields extend down 
 to the Warrenton turnpike, which crosses 
 what became the field of battle, through 
 
520 
 
 BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 the valley of a small water course, a tribu- 
 tary of Bull Itiui. 
 
 Concerning the general action, the offi- 
 cial report says : Shortly after the leading 
 regiment of the first brigade reached the 
 open space, and whilst others and the 
 second brigade were crossing to the front 
 and right, the enemy opened his fire, 
 beginning with artillery and following up 
 with infantry. The leading brigade, Burn- 
 side's, had to sustain this shock for a short 
 time without support, and did it well. 
 The battalion of regular infantry was sent 
 to sustain it, and shortly afterwards the 
 other corps of Porter's brigade, and a reg- 
 iment detached from Heintzelman's divis- 
 ion to the left, forced the enemy back far 
 enough to allow Sherman's and Reyes's 
 brigades of Tyler's division to cross from 
 their position on the Warrenton road. 
 These drove the right of the enemy from 
 the front of the field, and out of the de- 
 tached woods, and down to the road, and 
 across it up the slopes on the other side. 
 Whilst this was going on, Heintzelman's 
 division was moving down the field to the 
 stream, and up the road beyond. Beyond 
 the Warrenton road, and to the left of the 
 road, down which our troops had marched 
 from Sudley's Spring, is a hill with a 
 farmhouse on it. Behind this hill, the 
 enemy had, early in the day, some of his 
 most annoying batteries planted. Across 
 the road from this hill was another hill, 
 and the hottest part of the contest was for 
 the possession of this hill with a house on 
 it. The force engaged here was Heintzel- 
 man's division, Wilcox's and Howard's 
 brigades on the right, supported by part 
 of Porter's brigade and the cavalry under 
 Palmer, and Franklin's brigade of Heint- 
 zelman's division, Sherman's brigade of 
 Tyler's division in the center and up the 
 road, whilst Keyes's brigade of Tyler's 
 division was on the left, attacking the bat- 
 teries near the stone bridge. The Rhode 
 Island battery of Burnside's brigade also 
 participated in this attack by its fire from 
 the north of the turnpike. Rickett's bat- 
 tery, which did such effective service and 
 nlayed so brilliant a part iu. this contest, 
 
 was, together with Griffin's battery, on the 
 side of the hill, and became the object of 
 the enemy's special attention, who suc- 
 ceeded our officers mistaking one of his 
 regiments for one of our own, and allowing 
 it to approach without firing upon it in 
 disabling the battery, and then attempted 
 to take it. Three times was he repulsed 
 by different corps in succession, and 
 driven back, and the guns taken by hand, 
 the horses being killed, and pulled away. 
 The third time it was supposed by all that 
 the repulse was final, for he was driven 
 entirely from the hill, and so far beyond 
 it as not to be in sight, and all were cer- 
 tain the day was ours. He had before this 
 been driven nearly a mile and a half, and 
 was beyond the Warrenton road, which 
 was entirely in our possession from the 
 stone bridge westward, and our engineers 
 were just completing the removal of the 
 abattis across the road, to allow our re-en- 
 forcements Schenck's brigade and Ayers'c 
 battery to join us. 
 
 After describing the condition of the 
 confederate army at this time as disheart- 
 ened and broken, General McDowell ex- 
 plains some of the causes that led to the 
 disastrous fate which befell the federal 
 army. They had been fighting since half- 
 past ten o'clock in the morning, and it was 
 after three in the afternoon. The men had 
 been up since two o'clock in the morning, 
 and had made what to those unused to 
 such things seemed a long march before 
 coming into action, though the longest 
 distance gone over was not more than nine 
 and a half miles ; and though they had 
 three days' provisions served out to them 
 the day before, many no doubt either did 
 not eat them, or threw them away on the 
 march or during the battle, and were 
 therefore -without food. They had done 
 much severe fighting. Some of the regi- 
 ments which had been driven from the 
 hill in the first two attempts of the enemy 
 to get possession of it had become shaken, 
 were unsteady, and had many men out of 
 the ranks. 
 
 It was at this time, says McDowell, 
 that the enemy's re-enforcements came to 
 
BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA, 
 
 521 
 
 his aid from the railroad train. Tlwy 
 threw themselves iu the woods ou our 
 right and towards the rear of our right, 
 and opened a fire of musketry on our men, 
 which caused them to break arid retire 
 down the hillside. This soon degenerated 
 into disorder, for which there was no rem- 
 edy. Every effort was made to rally them, 
 even beyond the reach of the enemy's fire, 
 but in vain. The battalion of regular 
 infantry alone moved up the hiJl opposite 
 to the one with the house on it, and there 
 maintained itself until our men could get 
 down to and across the Warrenton turn- 
 pike, on the way back tj the position we 
 occupied in the morning. The plain was 
 covered with the retreating troops, and 
 
 they seemed to infect those with whom 
 they came in contact. The retreat soon 
 became a rout, and this soon degenerated 
 into a panic. Finding this state of affairs 
 was beyond the efforts of all those who 
 had assisted so faithfully during the long 
 and hard day's work in gaining almost the 
 object of their wishes, and that nothing 
 remained on the field but to recognize 
 what could no longer be prevented, Gen- 
 eral McDowell gave the necessary orders 
 to protect their withdrawal, begging the 
 men to form in line, and after the appear- 
 ance, at least, of organization. They re- 
 turned by the fords to the Warrenton road, 
 protected by Colonel Porter's force of reg- 
 ulars. Once on the road, and the different 
 corps coming together in small parties, 
 
 many without officers, they became inter- 
 mingled, and all organization was lost. 
 
 The onset of that tumultuous retreat is 
 described by those who witnessed it as ter- 
 rific. For three miles, hosts of federal 
 troops all detached from their regiments, 
 all mingled in one disorderly rout were 
 fleeing along the road, but mostly through 
 the lots on either side. Army wagons, 
 | sutlers' teams, and private carriages, 
 | choked the passage, tumbling against each 
 | other, amid clouds of dust, and sickening 
 sights and sounds. Hacks, containing 
 unlucky spectators of the battle, were 
 smashed like glass, and the occupants were 
 lost sight of in the debris. Horses, flying 
 wildly from the battle-field, many of them 
 in death agony, galloped at random for- 
 ward, joining in the stampede. Those 
 on foot who could catch them rode them 
 bare-back, as much to save themselves 
 from being run over, as to make quicker 
 time. Wounded men, lying along the 
 banks the few neither left on the field 
 nor taken to the captured hospitals 
 appealed with raised hands to those 
 who rode horses, begging to be lifted 
 behind, but few regarded such peti- 
 tions. Then the artillery, such as was 
 saved, came thundering along, smashing 
 and overpowering everything. The cav- 
 alry added to all these terrors, for they 
 rode down footmen without mercy. 
 An artilleryman was seen running between 
 the ponderous fore and after wheels of his 
 gun-carriage, hanging on with both hands, 
 and vainly striving to jump upon the 
 ordnance ; but the drivers were spurring 
 the horses; he could not cling much longer, 
 and a more agonized expression never 
 fixed the features of a drowning man ; the 
 carriage bounded from the roughness of a 
 steep hill leading to a creek, he lost his 
 hold, fell, and in an instant the great 
 wheels had crushed the life out of him. 
 And still the flight continued. It did not 
 slack in the least until Centreville was 
 reached. There the sight of the reserve 
 Miles's brigade formed in order on the 
 hill, seemed somewhat to reassure the van. 
 But still the teams and foot soldiers pushed 
 
522 
 
 BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 on, passing their own camps and heading 
 swiftly for the distant Potomac, until for 
 ten miles the road over which the grand 
 army had so lately marched southward, 
 gay with unstained banners, and flushed 
 with surety of strength, was covered with 
 the fragments of its retreating forces, shat- 
 tered and panic-stricken in a single day. 
 From the branch route the trains attached 
 to Hunter's division had caught the con- 
 tagion of the flight, and poured into its 
 already swollen current another turbid 
 freshet of confusion and dismay. The 
 teamsters, many of them, cut the traces of 
 their horses, and galloped from their 
 wagons. Others threw out their loads to 
 accelerate their flight, and grain, picks, 
 and shovels, and provisions of every kind, 
 lay trampled in the dust for leagues. 
 Thousands of muskets strewed the route, 
 and when some of the fugitives were ral- 
 lied and induced to form into a line, there 
 was hardly one but had thrown away his 
 arms. 
 
 Many who went into the battle with 
 Heintzelman and Hunter fled by the road 
 over which Tyler had advanced. In the 
 general race, all divisions and all regiments 
 were mingled. There was not even an 
 attempt to cover the retreat of Tyler's 
 division. With Heintzelman's it was bet- 
 ter ; Lieutenant Drummond's cavalry 
 troop keeping firm line, and protecting the 
 artillery until its abandonment was imper- 
 atively ordered. Regulars and volunteers 
 shared the disorder alike. Whole batter- 
 ies were left upon the field, and the cutting 
 off of others was ordered when the guns 
 had already been brought two miles or 
 more from the battle-ground. A perfect 
 frenzy was upon almost every man. Some 
 cried piteously to be assisted in their help- 
 lessness, and others sought to clamber into 
 wagons, the occupants resisting them with 
 iayonets. Even the sentiment of shame 
 had gone. Some of the better men tried 
 to withstand the rush, and cried out 
 against the flying groups, calling them 
 " cowards, poltroons, brutes," and reviling 
 them for so degrading themselves, espe- 
 cially when no enemy was near. 
 
 There were, of course, numerous excep- 
 tions to the general spirit of fear and 
 frenzy. Thus, when the order was given 
 at head-quarters for retreat, the word was 
 passed down the line to the New York 
 Zouaves. "Do not!" exclaimed a score 
 of the "pet lambs" in a breath; "Do 
 not ! " " We are ordered to retreat," said 
 the commander, to his brave men. 
 "Wot'n thunder's that?" responded one 
 of the hard-heads, who evidently did not 
 comprehend the word exactly. " Go back 
 retire," continued the com mander. " Go 
 back where?" "Leave the field." 
 " Leave ? Why, that ain't what we come 
 for. We're here to fight," insisted the 
 boys. " We came here witli one thousand 
 forty men," said the commander ; " and 
 there are now six hundred left. Fall 
 back, boys ! " and the " lambs " sulkily 
 retired, evidently displeased with the 
 order. It was these who received the first 
 charge of the famous Black Horse Guard, 
 a splendid corps of cavalry, all the horses 
 of which were coal-black. They came 
 upon the Zouave regiment at a gallop, and 
 were received by the brave firemen upon 
 their poised bayonets, followed instantly 
 by a volley, from which they broke and 
 fled, though several of the Zouaves were 
 cut down in the assault. They quickly 
 returned, with their forces doubled per- 
 haps six or seven hundred and again they 
 dashed with fearful yells upon the excited 
 Zouaves. This time they bore an Ameri- 
 can flag, and a part of the Zouaves sup- 
 posed for an instant that they were friends, 
 whom they had originally mistaken. The 
 flag was quickly thrown down, however, 
 the horses dashed upon the regiment, the 
 itise was discovered, and the slaughter com- 
 menced. No quarter, no halting, no flinch- 
 ing, marked the rapid and death-dealing 
 blows of the men, as they closed in upon 
 each other, in mutual madness and despera- 
 tion. The brave fe'lows fell, the ranks filled 
 up, the sabers, bowie-knives, and bayonets, 
 glistened in the sunlight, horse after horse 
 went down, platoon after platoon disap- 
 peared, the carnage was dreadful, the 
 bravery on both sides unexampled. 
 
BATTLE OF BULL KUN, VA. 
 
 523 
 
 BATTLE OF BULL BUN. 
 
 Blenker's brigade did heroic service. 
 Steady and watchful, he held his line 
 throughout the evening, advancing his 
 skirmishers at every token of attack, and 
 spreading a sure protection over the multi- 
 tudes who fled disordered through his col- 
 umns. With three regiments he stood to 
 fight against an outnumbering host al- 
 ready flushed with victory and eager to 
 complete its triumph. As the darkness 
 increased, his post became more perilous 
 and more honorable. At eleven o'clock, the 
 attack came upon the advance company of 
 Colonel Stahel's rifles, not in force, but 
 from a body of cavalry whose successful 
 passage would have been followed by a full 
 force, and the consequent destruction of 
 the broken hosts of the routed army. But 
 the cavalry was driven back, and never 
 returned, and at two in the morning, the 
 great body of federal troops having passed 
 and found their road to safety, the com- 
 
 mand was given to retreat in order, and 
 the brigade fell slowly and regularly back, 
 wi f h the same precision as if on parade. 
 Over and over again, Blenker begged per- 
 mission to maintain his post, or even to 
 advance. "Retreat I" said he in a voice 
 of thunder, to the messenger from head- 
 quarters, "bring me the word to 170 on, 
 sir ! " But the command was peremptory, 
 and he was left no alternative. 
 
 As an illustration of the almost univer- 
 sal lack of military order and discipline 
 characterizing the conduct of the federal 
 army, after being seized with panic, the 
 following is in point: At five o'clock P. 
 M., the New York Sixteenth and Thirty- 
 first regiments being well in advance 
 toward Blackburn's ford, were called upon 
 to stem the tide of the Virginia cavalry, 
 who were swooping at the retreating 
 forces. An order from Miles, conse- 
 quently, sent the First California xegr 
 
 L 
 
5-24 
 
 BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 ment, under Colonel Matheson of the New 
 York Thirty-second, forward to their sup- 
 port; but, though the cavalry was thus 
 turned to the right about, it was found 
 impossible to withstand the mad career of 
 the extraordinary mass that came pouring 
 back upon . Centreville. The best that 
 could be done, therefore, was for the Cali- 
 fornia regiment to stay just where it was, 
 and, in absence of further orders, lend 
 what aid it could to the protection of ; 
 Green's batter}-, which was busily plying 
 its fire upon tha harassing approaches of 
 the Virginia horse. While the Thirty- 
 second was in this position, the Sixteenth 
 and Thirty-first having passed within its 
 range, a youthful orderly rode up to Colonel 
 Matheson to inform that the Black Cav- 
 alry, sheltered from his observation by a 
 piece of woods, were coming upon the 
 right, and if he would take a cut with his 
 regiment across the fields, they would be 
 turned back upon their errand. The evo- 
 lution was performed, gave the protection 
 that was desired, and the Black Horse 
 gave up its purpose in that quarter. 
 While the regiment, however, was adher- 
 ing to this position, the same youth who 
 had imparted the previous suggestion rode 
 up to the regiment again, and told 
 Matheson he had better fall back on 
 Centreville, as his duty at that spot 
 had been thoroughly performed. As this 
 was the first sign of orders (with one 
 single exception) he had received dur- 
 ing the entire day, Matheson felt some 
 curiosity to learn who this young lieu- 
 tenant was, and whence these orders 
 came ; he therefore turned sharply on 
 the youth, who, he now perceived, could 
 not be more than twenty-two or three, 
 and said: 
 
 " Young man, I would like to know your 
 name." 
 
 " I am a son of Quartermaster-General 
 Meigs." 
 
 " By whose authority, then, do you de- 
 liver me these orders ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," replied the youth, smiling, 
 "the truth is, that for the last few hours 
 I have been giving all the orders for this 
 
 division, and acting as general, too, for 
 there is no general on the field." 
 
 The fortunes of war seemed to favor the 
 confederate army, in some respects quite 
 unlocked for, during the day's struggle, 
 though at one time their fate hung trem- 
 bling in the balance. Generals Bartow and 
 Bee had been stricken down ; Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Johnson, of the Hampton Legion, 
 had been killed; and Colonel Hampton 
 had been wounded. General Beauregard, 
 however, promptly offered to lead the 
 Legion into action, which he executed in 
 a style unsurpassable. He rode up and 
 down the lines between the federal troops 
 and his own men, regardless of the heavy 
 firing, cheering and encouraging his 
 troops. About this time, a shell struck 
 his horse, taking his head off, and also 
 killing the horses of two of his aids. 
 General Johnston threw himself into the 
 thickest of the fight, seizing the colors of 
 the Georgia regiment, and rallying them 
 to the charge. At this critical moment, 
 General Johnston was heard to exclaim to 
 General Cocke, " Oh, for four regiments ! " 
 His wish was answered, for in the distance 
 some re-enforcements appeared. The tide 
 of battle now turned in their favor, for 
 Gen. Kirby Smith had arrived from Win- 
 chester with four thousand men. General 
 Smith heard while on the Manassas rail- 
 road cars the roar of battle. He stopped 
 the train and hurried his troops across the 
 field to the point just where he had been 
 most needed. They were at first supposed 
 to be federal troops, their arrival at that 
 point of the field being so entirely unex- 
 pected. Jefferson Davis left Richmond 
 at six o'clock in the morning, and reached 
 Manassas Junction at four, where, mount- 
 ing a horse, and accompanied by numerous 
 attendants, he galloped to the battle-field 
 just in time to join in the pursuit by a 
 magnificent body of cavalry. As he waved 
 his hat, and exclaimed "Onward, my brave 
 comrades!" cheer, after cheer went up 
 from the enthusiastic host. Thus, with 
 the arrival of Davis on the field, the con- 
 federate army may be said to have had 
 three commanders-in-chief during the 
 
BATTLE OF BULL RUN, VA. 
 
 525 
 
 coarse of the battle. The whole south 
 was, of course, jubilant over the victory 
 which their arms had achieved. Te 
 Deums were sung in the churches, and a 
 day of thanksgiving observed. Through- 
 out the north, the gloom and humilia- 
 tion at this most unlooked-for defeat was 
 intense. 
 
 According to General McDowell's report, 
 the federal army's losses in this engage- 
 ment were 481 killed and 1,011 wounded. 
 The confederate losses, according to Gen- 
 eral Beauregard's report, counted up 269 
 killed and 1,533 wounded. An immense 
 quantity of ordnance, ammunition, etc., 
 fell into the hands of the victors. 
 
 In the summer of 1865, on the return of 
 peace, a monument was erected by friends 
 of the Union, about three-fourths of a mile 
 beyond Bull Run bridge, in "memory of 
 the patriots" who fell in this celebrated 
 battle, and the dedicatory ceremonies 
 consisted of a solemn dirge, the reading 
 of the Episcopal burial-service, the singing 
 of an original hymn composed by Pierpont, 
 and addresses by Generals Wilcox, Farns- 
 worth, Heintzelman, and others. The 
 interest attaching to this famous battle- 
 field, viewed in all its historic circum- 
 stances and consequences, is not exceeded 
 by that of any other on the American con- 
 tinent. 
 
LXIV. 
 
 EXTRAORDINARY COMBAT BETWEEN THE IRON-CLADS 
 
 MERRIMAC AND MONITOR, IN HAMPTON 
 
 ROADS. 1862. 
 
 Sudden Appearance of the Merrimac Among the Federal Frigates. Their Swift and Terrible Destruc- 
 tion by Her Steel Prow. Unexpected Arrival of the " Little Monitor " at the Scene of Action. She 
 Engages and Disables the Monster Craft in a Four Hours' Fight. Total Revolution in Naval War- 
 fare the World Over by this Remarkable Contest. How the Merrimac Changed Hands. Burned and 
 Sunk at Norfolk, Va Her Hull Raised by the Confederates. She is Iron Roofed and Plated. Proof 
 Against Shot and Shell. A Powerful Steel Beak in Her Prow Most Formidable Vessel Afloat. 
 In Command of Commodore Buchanan. Departs from Norfolk, March 8th. Pierces and Sinks the 
 Cumberland. Next Attacks the Congress. The Noble Frigate Destroyed. Fight Begun with the 
 Minnesota. Suspended at Nightfall. Trip of the Monitor irom New York. Her New and Singular 
 Build. Lieutenant Worden Hears of the Battles. Resolves to Grapple with the Monster. The Two 
 Together, Next Day. A Scene Never to be Forgotten. Worden Turns the Tide of Fortune. 
 Repulse and Retreat of the Merrimac. 
 
 14 BB IT RKSOLVED, ITO., That the thanks of Congress and of the American people are due. and are hereby tendered, to Lieutenant J. 
 L. Worden, of the United State* Now. and fc. the officers and men ot' the iron-clad gun-boat Monitor, under his command, tor the skill and 
 fatluntry exhibited by them in the late remarkable battle between the Monitor and the rebel iron-clad steamer Merrunac. ' P.ESOLUTIOH 
 PASSED by COKOUESS. 
 
 HITTING the city of Norfolk, Va., on the eighth 
 of March, 1862, the confederate iron-clad steam- 
 Merrimac sailed down Elizabeth river into 
 
 ram 
 
 Hampton Roads, Chesapeake Bay, and there sig- 
 nalized the naval history of the civil war in Amer- 
 ica bj' an action not only memorable beyond all 
 others in that tremendous conflict, but altogether 
 unprecedented in the annals of ocean warfare in 
 any country or i~ any age. On the abandonment 
 and destruction, by fire, of the Norfolk navy yard, 
 in April, 1861, by the United States officers in 
 charge, among the vessels left behind was the 
 steam frigate Merrimac, of four thousand tons 
 burden, then under repair. In the conflagration 
 she was burned to her copper-line, and down 
 through to her berth-deck, which, with her spar 
 
 and gun-decks, was also burned. Soon after the confederate authorities took possession 
 of the navy yard, the Merrimac was raised and converted into an iron-plated man-of-war 
 of the most formidable character. Immediately after this, she was placed upon the dry 
 
 INTEBIOK OF THB TOWEK OF THE KOJflTOB. 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 5-37 
 
 dock, and covered with a sloping roof of 
 iron plates three inches thick, the weight 
 of which nearly broke her down upon the 
 dock. Owing to some miscalculation when 
 launched, she sank four feet deeper than 
 before, and took in considerable water. She 
 was, in consequence, obliged to be docked a 
 second time. Her hull was cut down to 
 within three feet of her water-mark, over 
 which the bomb-proof house covered her 
 gun-deck. She was also iron-plated, and her 
 bow and stern steel-clad, with a projecting 
 enout of iron for the purpose of piercing 
 an antagonist. She had no masts, and 
 there was nothing to be seen over her gun- 
 deck but the pilot-house and smoke-stack. 
 Her bomb-proof was three inches thick, 
 and consisted of wrought iron. Her arma- 
 ment consisted of four eleven-inch navy 
 guns, broadside, and two one-hundred- 
 pounder rifled guns at the bow and stern. 
 She was now named the Virginia, though 
 she continued to be known as the Merri- 
 mac. She was commanded by Com. Frank- 
 lin Buchanan, formerly commandant of the 
 Washington navy yard. 
 
 The time chosen for her depaiture for 
 Hampton Roads was one peculiarly adapted 
 for the trial of her prowess. The federal 
 fleet in that vicinity comprised the sloop- 
 of-war Cumberland, the sailing-frigate 
 Congress, the steam-frigates Minnesota, 
 St. Lawrence, and Roanoke the latter in 
 a disabled condition from a broken shaft, 
 together with a number of improvised 
 gun-boats of a small grade. The Cumber- 
 land and Congress were anchored before 
 the entrenched federal camp at Newport 
 News, the Roanoke and St. Lawrence near 
 the Rip Raps, and the Minnesota in front 
 of Fortress Monroe. 
 
 On the Merrimac coming out, on Satur- 
 day, the eighth of March, she stood directly 
 across the roads toward Newport News. 
 What followed was, according to the nar- 
 rative published in the Baltimore Ameri- 
 can by one who had unusually favorable 
 opportunities of observation, in the order 
 of occurrence given below : 
 
 As soon as the Merrimac was made out 
 jid her direction ascertained (says the 
 
 narrative referred to), the crews were beat 
 to quarters on both the Cumberland and 
 Congress, and preparations made for what 
 was felt to be an almost hopeless fight, but 
 the determination to make it as desperate 
 as possible. The Merrimac kept straight 
 on, making, according to the best estimates, 
 about eight miles an hour. As she passed 
 the mouth of Nansemond river, the Con- 
 gress threw the first shot at her, which 
 was immediately answered. The Merri- 
 mac passed the Congress, discharging a 
 broadside at her, one shell from which 
 killed and disabled every man except one 
 at gun No. Ten, and kept on toward the 
 Cumberland, which she approached at full 
 speed, striking her on the port side near 
 the bow, her stem knocking fort No. One 
 and the bridle-port into one, whilst her 
 ram, or snout, cut the Cumberland under 
 water. Almost at the moment of collision, 
 the Merrimac discharged from her forward 
 gun an eleven-inch shell. This shell raked 
 the whole gun-deck, killing ten men at 
 gun No. One, among whom was master- 
 mate John Harrington, and cutting off 
 both arms and legs of quarter-gunner 
 Wood. The water rushed in from the hole 
 made below, and in five minutes the ship 
 began to sink by the head. Shell and 
 solid shot from the Cumberland were rained 
 upon the Merrimac as she passed ahead, 
 out the most of them glanced off harm- 
 lessly from the incline of her iron-plated 
 bomb-proof. 
 
 As the Merrimac rounded to and came 
 up, she again raked the Cumberland with 
 a heavy fire. At this fire, sixteen men at 
 gun No. Ten were killed or wounded, and 
 all subsequently carried down in the sink- 
 ing ship. Advancing with increased mo- 
 mentum, the Merrimac now struck the 
 Cumberland on the starboard side, smash- 
 ing her upper works and cutting another 
 hole below the water-line. 
 
 The ill-fated Cumberland now began to 
 rapidly settle, and the scene became most 
 horrible. The cock-pit was filled with the 
 wounded, whom it was found impossible 
 to bring up. The former magazine was 
 under water, but powder was still supplied 
 
628 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR 
 
 from the after-magazine, and the firing 
 kept steadily up by men who knew that 
 the ship was sinking under them. They 
 worked desperately and unremittingly, and 
 amid the din and horror of the conflict 
 gave cheers for their flag and the Union, 
 which were joined in by the wounded. 
 The decks were slippery with blood, and 
 arms and legs and chunks of flesh were 
 strewed about. The Merrimac laid off at 
 easy point-blank range, discharging her 
 broadsides alternately at the Cumberland 
 and the Congress. The water by this time 
 had reached the after-magazine of the 
 Cumberland. The men, however, kept at 
 work, and several cases of powder were 
 passed up and the guns kept in play. A 
 
 drowned. When the order WHS given to 
 cease firing, and to look out for their safety 
 in the best way possible, numbers scam- 
 pered through the port-holes, whilst others 
 reached the spar-deck by the companion- 
 ways. Some were unable to get out by 
 either of these means, and were carried by 
 the rapidly sinking ship. 
 
 The Cumberland sank in water nearly to 
 her cross-trees. She went down with her 
 flay still flying, and, for some time after, 
 it might still be seen filing from the mast 
 above the water that overwhelmed the 
 noble ship, a memento of the bravest, 
 most daring, and yet most hopeless defense 
 that was ever made by any vessel belong- 
 ing to any navy in the world. The men 
 
 -w 
 
 number of men in the after shell-room lin- 
 gered there too long in their eagerness to 
 pass up shell and were drowned. 
 
 By this time the water had reached the 
 berth or main gun-deck, and it was felt 
 hopeless and useless to continue the fight 
 longer. The word was given for each, man 
 to save himself ; but after this order, gun 
 No. Seven was fired, when the adjoining 
 gun, No. Six, was actually under water. 
 This last shot was fired by an active little 
 fellow named Matthew Tenney, whose 
 courage had been conspicuous throughout 
 the action. As his port was left open by 
 the recoil of the gun, he jumped to scram- 
 ble out, but the water rushed in with so 
 much force that he was washed back and 
 
 fought with a courage that could not be 
 excelled ; there was no flinching, no thought 
 of surrender. The whole number lost, of 
 the Cumberland's crew, was one hundred 
 and twenty. Many of the scenes on board 
 were deeply affecting. Two of the gunners 
 at the bow-guns, when the ship was sink- 
 ing, clasped their guns in their arms, and 
 would not be removed, and went down 
 embracing them. One gunner had both 
 his legs shot away; but he made three 
 steps on his bloody thighs, seized the lan- 
 yard and fired his gun, falling back dead. 
 Wood, who lost both arms and legs, on 
 being offered assistance, cried out, "Back 
 to your guns, boys / Give' em fits! Hur- 
 rah for the flag ! " He lived till she sank. 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN MEERIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 529 
 
 Having thoroughly demolished the Cum- 
 berland, the Merrimac now proceeded to 
 deal with the Congress, the officers of 
 which, having seen the fate of the Cum- 
 berland, and aware that the Congress must 
 also be sunk if she remained within reach 
 of the iron monster's beak, had got all sail 
 on the ship, with the intention of running 
 her ashore. The tug-boat Zouave also 
 came out and made fast to the Cumberland, 
 and assisted in towing her ashore. 
 
 The Merrimac then surged up, gave the 
 Congress a broadside, receiving one in 
 return, and getting astern, raked the Con- 
 gress fore and aft. This fire was terribly 
 destructive, a shell killing every man at 
 one of the guns except one. Coming again 
 broadside to the Congress, the Merrimac 
 ranged slowly backward and forward, at 
 less than one hundred yards distant, and 
 fired broadside after broadside into tho 
 Congress. The latter vessel replied man- 
 fully and obstinately, every gun that could 
 be brought to bear being discharged rap- 
 idly, but with little effect upon the iron 
 monster. Some of the balls caused splint- 
 ers of iron to fly from her mailed roof, but 
 still she seemed well nigh invulnerable. 
 The Merrimac's guns appeared to be spe- 
 cially trained on the after-magazine of the 
 Congress, and shot after shot entered that 
 part of the ship. 
 
 Thus slowly drifting down with the 
 current and again steaming up, the Merri- 
 mac continued for an hour to fire into her 
 opponent. Several times the Congress was 
 on fire, but the flames were kept down. 
 Finally, the ship was on fire in so many 
 places, and the flames gathering such force, 
 that it was hopeless and suicidal to keep 
 up the defense any longer. The federal 
 flag was sorrowfully hauled down and a 
 white flag hoisted at the peak. After it 
 , was hoisted, the Merrimac continued to 
 fire, perhaps not discovering the white flag, 
 but soon after ceased firing. 
 
 A small confederate tug that had fol- 
 lowed the Merrimac out of Norfolk then 
 came alongside the Congress, and a young 
 officer gained the gun-deck through a port- 
 hole, announced that he came on board to 
 
 take command, and ordered the officers on 
 board the tug. The officers of the Con- 
 gress refused to go, hoping from the near- 
 ness to the shore that they would be able 
 to reach it, and unwilling to become pris- 
 oners whilst the least chance of escape 
 remained. Some of the men, thinking the 
 tug was a federal vessel, rushed on board. 
 At this moment, the members of an Indi- 
 ana regiment, at Newport News, brought 
 a Parrott gun down to the beach and 
 opened fire upon the tug. The latter 
 hastily put off, and the Merrimac again 
 opened fire upon the Congress. The fire 
 not being returned from the ship, the Mer- 
 rimac commenced shelling the woods and 
 camps at Newport News. 
 
 By the time all were ashore, it was 
 seven o'clock in the evening, and the Con- 
 gress was in a bright sheet of flame fore and 
 aft. She continued to burn until twelve 
 o'clock at night, her guns, which were 
 loaded and trained, going off as they became 
 heated. Finally, the fire reached her mag- 
 azines, and with a tremendous concussion 
 her charred remains blew up. There were 
 some five tons of gunpowder in her mag- 
 azines, and about twenty thousand dollars 
 in the safe ot paymaster Buchanan, the 
 latter officer being an own brother to the 
 commander of the Merrimac. The loss of 
 life on board the Congress was lamentable. 
 
 After sinking the Cumberland and firing 
 the Congress, the Mernmac (with her 
 companions the Yorktown and James- 
 town,) stood off in the direction of the 
 Minnesota, which, in trying to reach the 
 scene of action, had run aground, and 
 could not be moved. An exchange of shot 
 and shell, however, took place between the 
 vessels, after which, nightfall setting in, 
 the Merrimac steamed in under Sewall's 
 Point, expecting the next day to capture 
 the Minnesota as a prize, instead of destroy- 
 ing her. The day thus closed dismally for 
 the federal side, and with the most gloomy 
 apprehensions of what would occur the 
 next day. The Minnesota was at the 
 mercy of the Merrimac, and there appeared 
 no reason why the iron monster might not 
 clear the Roads of the whole fleet, and 
 
530 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 destroy all the stores and warehouses on 
 the beach. Saturday, therefore, was a 
 night of terror at Fortress Monroe. 
 
 But just here, the chief event of interest 
 centers. It was at night, the inoon shin- 
 ing brightly, when, totally unexpected, 
 there came into those blood-dyed waters, 
 the little gun-boat Monitor, from New York, 
 a vessel which had just been completed, 
 from designs of Mr. Ericsson, and differ- 
 ing materially from any vessel ever before 
 constructed, aud believed by its inventor 
 to be absolutely invulnerable. Externally, 
 it had the appearance of a long, oval raft, 
 rising only eighteen inches above the 
 water, with a low, round tower upon its 
 center. This raft was the upper part of 
 the hull of the vessel, and was plated with 
 iron so as to be ball-proof ; it projected on 
 every side beyond the lower hull, which 
 contained the machinery. The tower, con- 
 taining two heavy guns, the only arma- 
 ment of the battery, was of iron, and nearly 
 a foot in thickness, and so constructed as 
 to revolve, bringing the guns to bear upon 
 any point. This tower, nine feet high and 
 twenty in diameter, and a pilot-house, ris- 
 ing three feet, were all that appeared upon 
 the smooth, level deck. She was com- 
 manded by Lieutenant Worden, U. S. N., 
 and, though a mere pigmy, in size and 
 armament, compared with the Merrimac, 
 was soon to measure her prowess with the 
 latter, in a contest such as had never 
 entered into the imagination even of Mr. 
 Ericsson himself. 
 
 The succeeding day, Sunday, dawned 
 fair. As the sun broke on the horizon, a 
 slight haze was visible on the water, which 
 prevented an extended vision. At half 
 past six, A. M., this haze cleared away. 
 Looking toward Sewall's Point, there 
 appeared the Merrimac, and her attend- 
 ants, the steamers Yorktown and Patrick 
 Henry. They were stationary, the Mer- 
 rimac to the right of the others, blowing 
 off steam. They seemed deliberating what 
 to do whether to move on to attempt the 
 destruction of the Minnesota, which was 
 yet aground, or move on to the federal 
 fleet anchored near the Rip Raps. At ' 
 
 seven o'clock, a plan seemed to nave been 
 adopted, and the Merrimac steamed in the 
 direction of the Minnesota, which was still 
 aground. The Yorktown and Jamestown 
 were crowded with troops, and steamed 
 slowly after the Merrimac. The lattar 
 steamed along with boldness until she was 
 within three miles of the Minnesota, when 
 the Monitor essayed from behind the lat- 
 ter, and proceeded toward the Merrimac. 
 It should here be mentioned, that when 
 Lieutenant Worden first arrived in the 
 Roads and was informed of what had 
 occurred, though his crew were suffering 
 from exposure and loss of rest from a 
 stormy voyage around from New York, he 
 at once made preparations for taking part 
 in whatever might take place the next day. 
 To this end, the Monitor moved up, before 
 daylight on Sunday morning, and took a 
 position alongside the Minnesota, lying 
 between the latter ship and the fortress, 
 where she could not be seen by the enemy, 
 but was ready, with steam up, to slip out. 
 
 At the sudden appearance of so strange- 
 looking and diminutive a craft as the Mon- 
 itor, the confederate monster seemed non- 
 plussed, and hesitated, no doubt in wonder- 
 ment that such an unaccountable and 
 apparently insignificant an object should 
 be making so bold an approach. 
 
 The Merrimac now closed the distance 
 between her and the Monitor, until they 
 were within a mile of each other. Both 
 batteries stopped. The Merrimac fired a 
 shot at the Minnesota, to which no reply 
 was made. She then fired at the Monitor ; 
 the latter replied, hitting the Merrimac 
 near the water-line. The Merrimac then 
 commenced firing very rapidly, first from 
 her stern gun at the Monitor, and then 
 her broadside guns, occasionally firing a 
 shot at the Minnesota. The fight went on 
 in this way for an hour or two, both ves- 
 sels exchanging shots pretty freely. Some- 
 times the Merrimac would retire, followed 
 by the Monitor, and sometimes the reverse. 
 
 While the fight between the batteries 
 was going on, one hundred solid nine-inch 
 shot were sent up from Fortress Monroe 
 on the steamer Rancocas to the Minnesota. 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 531 
 
 At a quarter-past ten o'clock, tile Merri- 
 mac and Monitor had come into pretty 
 close quarters, the former giving tbe latter 
 two broadsides in succession. it was 
 replied to promptly by the Monitor. The 
 firing was so rapid that both craft were 
 obscured in colum is of white smoke for a 
 moment or more. The ramparts of the 
 fort, the rigging of the vessels in port, the 
 houses, and the bend, were all crowded 
 with sailors, soldiers and civilians. When 
 the rapid firing alluded to took place, these 
 spectators were singularly silent, as if 
 doubtful as to the result. Their impatience 
 was soon removed by the full figure of the 
 Monitor, with the stars and stripes flying 
 at her stern, steaming around the Merri- 
 uiac, moving with the ease of a duck on 
 the water. The distance between the ves- 
 sels was forty feet. In this circuit, the 
 Monitor's guns were not idle, as she fired 
 shot after shot into her antagonist, two of 
 which penetrated the monster's sides. 
 
 At eleven, A. M., the Minnesota opened 
 fire, and assisted the Monitor in engaging 
 the Merrimac. She fired nine-inch solid 
 shot with good accuracy, but with appar- 
 ently little effect. The Merrimac returned 
 the fire, firing shell, one of which struck 
 and exploded the boiler of the gun-boat 
 Dragon, which was alongside the Minne- 
 sota, endeavoring to get her off. For the 
 next hour, the battle raged fiercely between 
 the Merrimac on the one side, and her 
 antagonists, the Monitor, Minnesota, and 
 Whitehall, but with no important result. 
 The Minnesota being the best mark for 
 the Merrimac, the latter fired at her fre- 
 quently, alternately giving the Monitor a 
 shot. The Merrimac made several attem pts, 
 also, to run at full speed past the Monitor, 
 to attack and run down the Minnesota. 
 All these attempts were parried, as it were, 
 by the Monitor. In one of these attempts 
 by the Merrimac, she ran her prow or ram 
 with full force against the side of the 
 Monitor; but it only had the effect of 
 careening the latter vessel in the slightest 
 degree. The Yorktown and Patrick Henry 
 kept at a safe distance from the Monitor. 
 The former vessel, at the beginning of the 
 
532 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 fight, had the temerity to come within 
 respectable range of the Monitor. The 
 latter fired one shot at her, which carried 
 away her pilot-house, and caused her to lose 
 no time in retiring. 
 
 ' As the Monitor carried but two guns, 
 whilst the Merrimac had eight, of course 
 she received two or three shots for every 
 one she gave. The fight raged hotly on 
 both sides, the opposing batteries moving 
 around each other with great skill, ease, 
 and dexterity. The Merrimac, though the 
 strongest, did not move with the alertness 
 of her antagonist ; hence the Monitor had 
 the advantage of taking choice of position. 
 At a quarter before twelve o'clock, noon, 
 Lieutenant Hepburn, the signal officer on 
 the ramparts at Fortress Monroe, reported 
 to General Wool that the Monitor had 
 pierced the sides of the Merrimac, and in 
 a few minutes the latter was in full retreat. 
 Whether true, or not, that the Merrimac's 
 armor had actually been penetrated, her 
 iron prow had become so wrenched in 
 striking the sides of her antagonist, that 
 the timbers within were started, and the 
 vessel leaked badiy. The little Monitor 
 followed the retreating Merrimac until she 
 got well inside Sewall's Point, and then 
 returned to the Minnesota. It is probable 
 that the pursuit wou'd have been con- 
 tinued still farther, but Lieutenant Worden 
 had previously had his eyes injured, and it 
 was felt that, as so much depended on the 
 Monitor, it was imprudent to expose her 
 unnecessarily. At the time he was injured, 
 Lieutenant Worden was looking out of the 
 eye-holes of the pilot-house, which were 
 simply horizontal slips, half an inch wide. 
 A round shot struck against these slits as 
 Lieutenant Worden was looking through, 
 causing some Dealings from the iron and 
 fragments of cement to fly with great force 
 against his eyes, utterly blinding him for 
 some days, and permanently destroying 
 the power of his left eye. Stunned by 
 the concussion, he was carried away 
 helpless. 
 
 On recovering sufficiently to speak, he 
 asked 
 
 " Have I saved the Minnesota ? a 
 
 " Tes, and whipped the Merrimac" was 
 the answer. 
 
 " Then I don't care what becomes of me," 
 said Lieutenant Worden. 
 
 No other real damage was received by 
 the Monitor, during the action ; the deep- 
 est indentation received by her was on 
 the side, amounting to four and one-half 
 inches; on the turret, the deepest was one 
 and one-half inches ; and on the deck, one- 
 half inch. The Merrimac, in addition to 
 the injury already mentioned, had her 
 anchor and flag-staff shot away, her smoke- 
 stack and steam-pipe riddled, two of her 
 crew killed and eight wounded, including 
 her commander, Buchanan. The latter 
 officer went out on his deck, was seen by 
 the federal sharp-shooters at Camp Butler, 
 and was shot with a minie rifle ball in his 
 left leg, which maimed him for life. His 
 exploits gained him great favor at the 
 south, and he was subsequently made 
 Admiral of Ihe Confederate States navy. 
 The praises of Lieutenant Worden filled 
 every loyal mouth, and he was successfully 
 promoted to the highest rank in the ser- 
 vice. 
 
 Withdrawing to Lorfolk, the Merrimac 
 underwent extensive repairs for some 
 weeks, and was provided with ordnance of 
 great power. She then took her station 
 at the mouth of the Elizabeth river, guard- 
 ing it, and threatening the United States 
 vessels in the Roads, but, on account of 
 some defects in her working, not ventur- 
 ing an attack. Finally, Norfolk having 
 surrendered to the Union forces, May 10th, 
 and the Merrimac being found to draw too 
 much water to admit of her being removed 
 up the river, she was on the 12th aban- 
 doned and set on fire, and soon after Kew 
 up. 
 
 The loss of two such fine war vessels as 
 the Cumberland and Congress, with some 
 four hundred brave men, cast a gloom over 
 the nation, the weight of which was only 
 relieved by the heroism displayed in their 
 defense. Indeed, one of the greatest in- 
 stances of patriotic devotion ever recorded 
 in our own or any other nation's naval his- 
 tory, is that which narrates the closing 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 533 
 
 scene on board the Cumberland. Neither 
 the shots of the Congress, nor of the Cum- 
 berland, hud any more effect, for the most 
 part, upon the iron-mailed Merrimac, than 
 if they had been so many peas. But if 
 they could have kept die Merrimac off, she 
 never could have sunk the Cumberland. 
 They had then nothing to do but stand and 
 fight and die like men. Buchanan asked 
 their commander, Lieutenant Morris 
 " Will you surrender the ship ? " 
 "Never," said Morris, "never will we 
 surrender the ship." 
 
 Buchanan then backed his huge tarn off 
 again, and the Cumberland fired as rapidly 
 as she could, but the Merrimac came once 
 more and ran her steel beak in ; and now 
 it was that Buchanan asked Lieutenant 
 Morris, calling him by name 
 
 "Mr. Morris, will you surrender that 
 ship ? " 
 
 " Never," said Morris, " sink her ! " 
 
 The remaining act in this startling 
 drama is well known. The guns of the 
 Cumberland were coolly manned, loaded 
 and discharged, while the vessel was in a 
 sinking condition, and the good ship went 
 down with her flag flying defiantly at the 
 gaff 
 
 Similar was the bravery exhibited on 
 board the ill-fated Congress. The father 
 of the gallant commander of that ship 
 (Liev f enant Joseph Smith), who lost his 
 life in that terrible encounter, was Com- 
 
 modore Joseph Smith, of Washington. It 
 appears that the elder Smith had exerted 
 himself specially to finish the work on the 
 Monitor, and hasten her departure. The 
 son, too, had written repeatedly to the 
 naval authorities at Washington, express- 
 ing his fears for the consequences of an 
 attack from the Merrimac, and urging 
 plans for guarding against it. The father 
 knew the spirit of his son, and that the 
 only issue of a battle for him was death or 
 victory. When he saw, therefore, by the 
 first dispatch from Fortress Monroe, that 
 the Congress had raised the white flag, he 
 only remarked quietly, " Joe is dead ! " 
 No Roman father ever paid a nobler or 
 more emphatic tribute of confidence to a 
 gallant son than is contained in the words 
 BO uttered, nor ever gave that son to his 
 country with more cheerful and 
 entire devotion. The sad assur- 
 ance was well founded. The flag 
 was not struck until his son had 
 fallen. 
 
 Not less conspicuous was the 
 conduct of Charles Johnston, boats- 
 wain of the Congress a fine speci- 
 men of the thorough seaman, who 
 had been in the navy some thirty 
 odd years who greatly excited the 
 admiration of the officers by his 
 cool, unflinching courage. Sta- 
 tioned in the very midst of the 
 carnage committed by the raking 
 fire of the Merrimac, he never lost 
 his self-possession, and not for a 
 moment failed to cheer on and encourage 
 the men. Blinded with the smoke and 
 dust, and splashed with the blood and 
 brains of his shipmates, his cheering words 
 of encouragement were still heard. After 
 the engagement, from which he escaped 
 unwounded, his kindness and care in pro- 
 viding for the removal of the wounded, 
 were untiring. The fact has already been 
 mentioned that the paymaster of the Con- 
 gress was an own brother of the com- 
 mander of the Merrimac. His position 
 was one of extreme agony, but his loyal 
 heart did not fail him. " Just before the 
 ' sanguinary engagement," said paymaster 
 
534 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN MEERIMAC AND MONITOR. 
 
 Buchanan, "I volunteered my serv- 
 ices to Lieut. Commanding Joseph B. 
 Smith for duty on either of the upper 
 decks, although the rebel steamer Mer- 
 rimac was commanded by my own 
 brother, when I received an order to take 
 charge of the berth-deck division, which 
 order I promptly obeyed, and, thank 
 
 God, I did some service to my beloved 
 country." 
 
 The character of this contest may truly 
 be said to have astonished the world, and 
 its effect has been to revolutionize the 
 principles and mode of naval warfare, ren- 
 dering wooden vessels of war practically 
 useless for active service. 
 
L-XV. 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 1862. 
 
 Bloodiest Day That America Ever Saw. Nearly One Hundred Thousand Men on Each Side. General 
 McClellan Declares on the Field that it is " the Battle of the War." Four Miles and Fourteen Hours 
 of Fighting and Slaughter The Shock and " Glory " of War on a Colossal Scale. Obstinate Brav- 
 ery of the Contending Foes. Some of the Regiments Almost Annihilated. The Union Troops 
 Hold the Disputed Ground. Lee's Great Military Object His Troops Enter Maryland. Frowning 
 Masses of Soldiery. Surrender of Harper's Ferry. McClellan's Army in Motion. He Attacks the 
 Enemy in Position. Hooker Leads the Advance. He is Shot and Disabled. Death of General 
 Mansfield. Other Union Generals Wounded. Reno's Untimely End. Rain of Shot and Shell. 
 Various Fortunes of the Day Close and Stern Ordeal. Feat of Burnside's Corps. Their Struggle 
 for the Hill. A Fearful Crisis with General Burnside. He Asks for Re-enforcements. McClellan's 
 Memorable Reply. Driving the Enemy en masse. Forty of their Colors Taken. The After-Scene 
 of Horror. 
 
 " Our forcei slept that night conquerors on a field won by their valor, and covered with the dead and wounded of the nemv '* G* 
 HSiL KoCLUUri OFFICIAL RZPOKT. "w 
 
 , EAVY and melancholy as was the loss of life 
 attending the bloody battle of Antietam, on the 
 17th of September, 1862, between the Union 
 and confederate armies numbering about one 
 hundred thousand brave soldiers each and com- 
 manded, respectively, by General McClellan and 
 General Lee, a burden of anxiety was rolled off 
 the loyal hearts of the North, when, on the 
 evening of that day, there came from General 
 Hooker the following thrilling dispatch, dated 
 at Centreville, Md. : 
 
 " A great battle has been fought, and we are 
 victorious. I had the honor to open it yesterday 
 afternoon, and it continued until ten o'clock this 
 morning, when I was wounded, and compelled 
 to quit the field. The battle was fought with 
 great violence on both sides. The carnage has 
 been awful. I only regret that I was not per- 
 mitted to take part in the operations until they 
 were concluded, for I had counted on either cap- 
 
 turing their army or driving them into the Potomac. My wound has been painful, but 
 it is not one that will be likely to lay me up. I was shot through the foot." 
 
 One great object of General Lee, during the summer of this year, was to possess 
 
53C 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 himself of Harper's Ferry, as the base of 
 future and more important operations. To 
 this end, the confederate forces under Gen- 
 erals Jackson, Longstreet, and Hill, en- 
 tered Frederick, Md., in the early part of 
 September, and occupied all the adjoining 
 country, their right resting on the Mono- 
 cacy river. The federal army, which with 
 the exception of about fourteen thousand 
 men at Harper's Ferry, had been concen- 
 trated near Washington, and had been 
 placed under the immediate command of 
 General McClellan, advanced to meet the 
 enemy. Passing up the Potomac, they' 
 interposed in force between the confeder- 
 ates and the fords by which they had 
 crossed, threatening to cut off their re- 
 treat in case they should be defeated. 
 Perceiving this, the confederates aban- 
 doned Frederick, and went northward to 
 Hagerstown, which was occupied Septem- 
 ber llth. A strong body was then sent to 
 attack Harper's Ferry. The assault was 
 opened on the 12th and continued on the 
 following day, when the federal troops 
 were driven from the heights on the Mary- 
 land side. On Monday morning the place 
 was fairly surrounded, and fire was opened 
 from seven or eight different points. On 
 the morning of the 15th, Colonel Miles, 
 commander at Harper's Ferry, ordered the 
 white flag to be raised, to General Jackson ; 
 a few moments after, he was struck by a 
 shot which mortally wounded him. The 
 cavalry, numbering some two thousand, 
 who had been at the Ferry, cut their way 
 through the enemy's lines and escaped ; 
 the remainder of the troops, to the number 
 of about eleven thousand, surrendered, and 
 were immediately paroled. The posses- 
 sion of the place was of considerable ad- 
 vantage to the confederates, though they 
 retained it but for one day ; the bridge 
 over the Potomac not being destroyed 
 enabled them to cross the river, and take 
 part in the battle of Antietam, which fol- 
 lowed on the 17th. 
 
 A close pursuit was kept up by the fed- 
 eral army, and, early on the morning of 
 the 14th, the advance the right and 
 center under Hooker and Reno, the left 
 
 under Franklin came up with the enemy, 
 who were strongly posted on the crest of 
 the South Mountain, commanding the road 
 to Hagerstown. The attack on both wings, 
 which lasted from noon until nightfall, re- 
 sulted in forcing the confederates from all 
 their positions, so that they retreated during 
 the night in the direction of Williamsport. 
 In this action, General Eeno was killed. 
 Having hastily abandoned Harper's Ferry, 
 the confederates re-crossed the Potomac, 
 and joined the main body under Lee. 
 
 In the meantime, McClellan had defi- 
 nitely made his arrangements for giving 
 battle to the opposing hosts. In accord- 
 ance with this plan, as detailed by McClel- 
 lan, in his official report, Hooker's corps, 
 consisting of Rickett's and Doubleday's 
 divisions, and the Pennsylvania reserves, 
 under Meade, was sent across the Antie- 
 tam creek, by a ford and bridge to the 
 right of Kedysville, with orders to attack, 
 and, if possible, turn the enemy's left. 
 Mansfield, with his corps, was sent in the 
 evening to support Hooker. Arrived in 
 position, Meade's division of the Pennsyl- 
 vania reserves, which was at the head of 
 Hooker's corps, became engaged in a sharp 
 contest with the enemy, which lasted until 
 after dark, when it had succeeded in driv- 
 ing in a portion of the opposing line, and 
 held the ground. At daylight the contest 
 was renewed between Hooker and the 
 enemy in his front. Hooker's attack was 
 successful for a time, but masses of the 
 enemy, thrown upon his corps, checked it. 
 Mansfield brought up his corps to Hook- 
 er's support, when the two corps drove the 
 enemy back, the gallant and distinguished 
 veteran Mansfield losing his life in the 
 effort. General Hooker was, unhappily, 
 about this time wounded, and compelled to 
 leave the field, where his services had 
 been conspicuous and important. About 
 an hour after this time, Sumner's corps, 
 consisting of Sedgwick's, Richardson's, and 
 French's divisions, arrived on the field 
 Richardson's some time after the other 
 two, as he was unable to start as soon as 
 they. Sedgwick, on the right, penetrated 
 the woods in front of Hooker's and Mans- 
 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 537 
 
 field's troops. French and Richardson 
 were placed to the left of Sedgwick, thus 
 attacking the enemy toward their left 
 center. Crawford's and Sedgwick's lines, 
 however, yielded to a destructive fire of 
 masses of the enemy in the woods, and, 
 suffering greatly, (Generals Sedgwick and 
 Crawford being among the wounded,) their 
 troops fell back in disorder ; they, never- 
 theless, rallied in the woods. The enemy's 
 advance was, however, entirely checked 
 by the destructive fire of our artillery. 
 Franklin, who had been directed the day 
 before to join the main army with two 
 divisions, arrived on the field from Browns- 
 ville about an hour after, and Smith's 
 division replaced Crawford's and Sedg- 
 wick's lines. Advancing steadily, it swept 
 
 over the ground just lost, but now perma- 
 nently retaken. The divisions of French 
 and Richardson maintained with consider- 
 able loss the exposed positions which 
 they had so gallantly gained, among the 
 wounded being General Richardson. 
 
 The condition of things (says General 
 McClellan,) on the right, toward the mid- 
 dle of the afternoon, notwithstanding the 
 success wrested from the enemy by the 
 stubborn bravery of the troops, was at this 
 time unpromising. Sumner's, Hooker's, 
 and Mansfield's corps had lost heavily, 
 several general officers having been carried 
 
 from the field. I was at one time com- 
 pelled to draw two brigades from Porter's 
 corps (the reserve) to strengthen the right. 
 This left for the reserve the small division 
 of regulars who had been engaged in sup- 
 porting during the day the batteries in the 
 center, and a single brigade of Morell's 
 division. The effect of Burnside's move- 
 ment on the enemy's right was to prevent 
 the further massing of their troops on 
 their left, and we held what we had gained. 
 Burnside's corps, consisting of Wilcox's, 
 Sturgis's, and Rodman's divisions, and 
 Cox's Kanawha division, was intrusted 
 with the difficult task of carrying the 
 bridge across the Antietam, near Rohr- 
 back's farm, and assaulting the enemy's 
 right, the order having been communicated 
 to him at ten A. M. The valley of the 
 Antietam, at and near the bridge, is nar- 
 row, with high banks. On the right of 
 the stream the bank is wooded, and com- 
 mands the approaches both to the bridge 
 and the ford. The steep slopes of the 
 bank were lined with rifle-pits and breast- 
 works of rails and stones. These, together 
 with the woods, were filled with the enemy's 
 infantry, while their batteries completely 
 commanded and enfiladed the bridge and 
 ford and their approaches. The advance of 
 the troops brought on an obstinate and san- 
 guinary contest, and from the great natu- 
 ral advantages of the position, it was 
 nearly one o'clock before the heights 011 
 the right bank were carried. At about 
 three o'clock, p. M., the corps again ad- 
 vanced, and with success, driving the 
 enemy before it, and pushing nearly to 
 Sharpsburg, while the left, after a hard 
 encounter, also compelled the enemy to re- 
 tire before it. The enemy here, however, 
 were speedily re-enforced, and with over- 
 whelming masses. New batteries of their 
 artillery, also, were brought up and opened. 
 It became evident that our force was not 
 sufficient to enable the advance to reach 
 the town, and the order was given to retire 
 to the cover of the hill, which was taken 
 from the enemy earlier in the afternoon. 
 
 Of these brilliant movements, thus so 
 briefly referred to by General McClellan, 
 
638 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 a most graphic and admirable account was 
 furnished by Mr. Smalley, a brilliant 
 writer and an eye-witness, for the New 
 York Tribune, a portion of which is here 
 transcribed. 
 
 After describing the gloomy condition 
 of the federal troops on the right at one 
 o'clock, Mr. Smalley says All that had 
 been gained in front had been lost ! The 
 enemy's batteries, which, if advanced and 
 served vigorously, might have made sad 
 work with the closely-massed troops, were 
 fortunately either partially disabled or 
 short of ammunition. Sumner was confi- 
 dent that he could hold his own, but an- 
 
 other advance was out of the question. 
 The enemy, on the other hand, seemed to 
 be too much exhausted to attack. At this 
 crisis Franklin came up with fresh troops 
 and formed on the left. Slocum, c6m- 
 manding one division of the corps, was 
 sent forward along the slopes lying under 
 the first ranges of rebel hills, while Smith, 
 commanding the other division, was or- 
 dered to retake the cornfields and woods 
 which all day had been so hotly contested. 
 It was done in the handsomest style. His 
 Maine and Vermont regiments and the 
 rest went forward on the run, and, cheer- 
 ing as they went, swept like an avalanche 
 through the cornfields, fell upon the woods, 
 cleared them in ten minutes, and held 
 them. They were not again retaken. 
 
 The field and its ghastly harvest which 
 the reaper had gathered in these fatal 
 hours finally remained with us. Four 
 times it had been lost and won. 
 
 The splendid feat of Burnside holding 
 the hill was one of the memorable deeds on 
 that day of earnest action. At four o'clock 
 (says Mr. Smalley,) McClellan sent simul- 
 taneous orders to Burnside and Franklin ; 
 to the former to advance and carry the 
 batteries in his front at all hazards and at 
 any cost ; to the latter, to carry the woods 
 next in front of him to the right, which 
 the rebels still held. The order to Frank- 
 lin, however, was practically counter- 
 manded, in consequence of a message from 
 General Sumner, that if Franklin went on 
 and was repulsed, his own corps was not 
 yet sufficiently reorganized to be depended 
 on as a reserve. Burnside obeyed the 
 order most gallantly. Getting his troops 
 well in hand, and sending a portion of his 
 artillery to the front, he advanced them 
 with rapidity and the most determined 
 vigor, straight up the hill in front, on top 
 of which the confederates had maintained 
 their most dangerous battery. The move- 
 ment was in plain view of McClellan's 
 position, and as Franklin on the other side 
 sent his batteries into the field about the 
 same time, the battle seemed to open in 
 all directions with greater activity than 
 ever. The fight in the ravine was in full 
 progress, the batteries which Porter sup- 
 ported were firing with new vigor, Frank- 
 lin was blazing away on the right, and 
 every hill-top, ridge, and piece of woods 
 along the "whole line was crested and veiled 
 with white clouds of smoke. All day had 
 been clear and bright since the early 
 cloudy morning, and now this whole mag- 
 nificent, unequaled scene, shone with the 
 splendor of an afternoon September sun. 
 Four miles of battle, its glory all visible, 
 its horrors all veiled, the fate of the re- 
 public hanging on the hour could any 
 one be insensible to its grandeur ? There 
 are two hills on the left of the road, the 
 furthest the lowest. The rebels have bat- 
 teries on both. Burnside is ordered to carry 
 the nearest to him, which is the furthest 
 
BATTLE OF AKTIETAM, AID. 
 
 539 
 
 from the road. His guns opening first 
 from this new position iu front, soon 
 entirely controlled and silenced the ene- 
 my's artillery. The infantry came on at 
 once, moving rapidly and steadily up, 
 long dark lines, and broad dark masses, 
 being plainly visible without a glass as 
 the} 7 moved over the green hill-side. 
 Underneath was a tumult of wagons, 
 guns, horses, and men flying at speed 
 down the road. Blue flashes of smoke 
 burst now and then among them, a 
 horse or a man or a half-dozen went 
 down, and then the whirlwind swept on. 
 The hill was carried, but could it be 
 held? The rebel columns, before seen 
 moving to the left, increased their pace. 
 The guns, on the hill above, sent an 
 angry tempest of shell down among 
 Burnside's guns and men. He had 
 formed his columns apparently in the 
 near angles of two fields bordering the 
 road high ground about them every- 
 where except in rear. In another mo- 
 ment a rebel battle-line appears on the 
 brow of the ridge above them, moves 
 swiftly down in the most perfect order, 
 and though met by incessant discharges 
 of musketry, of which we plainly see 
 the flashes, does not fire a gun. White 
 spaces show where men are falling, but 
 they close up instantly, and still the 
 line advances. The brigades of Burn- 
 side are in heavy column ; they will not 
 give way before a bayonet charge in line. 
 The rebels think twice before they dash 
 into these hostile masses. There is a 
 halt ; the rebel left gives way and scat- 
 ters over the field; the rest stand fast 
 and fire. More infantry comes up ; 
 Burnside is outnumbered, flanked, com- 
 pelled to yield the hill he took so bravely. 
 His position is no longer one of attack ; 
 he defends himself with unfaltering 
 firmness, but he sends to McClellan for 
 help. McClellan's glass for the last half 
 hour has seldom been turned away from 
 the left. He sees clearly enough that 
 Burnside is pressed needs no messen- 
 ger to tell him that. His face grows 
 darker with anxious thought. Look- 
 
540 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 ing down into the valley, where fifteen 
 thousand troops are lying, he turns a half- 
 questioning look on Fitz John Porter, 
 who stands by his side, gravely scan- 
 ning the field. They are Porter's troops 
 below, are fresh, and only impatient to 
 share in this fight. But Porter slowly 
 shakes his head, and one may believe that 
 the same thought is passing through the 
 minds of both generals 
 
 " They are the only reserves of the 
 army ; they cannot be spared." 
 
 McClellan remounts his horse, and with 
 Porter and a dozen officers of his staff rides 
 away to the left in Burnside's direction. 
 Sykes meets them on the road a good 
 soldier, whose opinion is worth taking. 
 The three generals talk briefly together. 
 It is easy to see that the moment has come 
 when everything may turn on one order 
 
 GEXERAL "STONEWALL" JACKSON. 
 
 given or withheld, when the history of the 
 battle is only to be written in thoughts 
 and purposes and words of the General. 
 Burnside's messenger rides up. His mes- 
 sage is 
 
 " I want troops and guns. If you do 
 not spare them, I cannot hold my position 
 for half an hour." 
 
 McClellan's only answer for the moment 
 is a glance at the western sky. Then he 
 turns and says very slowly 
 
 " Tell General Burnside that this is the 
 battle of the war. He must hold his 
 ground till dark at any cost. I will send 
 him Miller's battery. I can do nothing 
 more. I have no infantry." 
 
 Then, as the messenger was riding 
 away, he called him back : 
 
 " Tell him if he can not hold his ground, 
 then the bridge to the last man ! always 
 the bridge ! If the bridge is lost, all is 
 lost." 
 
 The sun was already down ; not half an 
 hour of daylight was left. Till Burnside's 
 message came, it had seemed plain to every 
 one that the battle could not be finished 
 to-day. None suspected how near was the 
 peril of defeat, of sudden attack on ex- 
 hausted forces how vital to the safety of 
 the army and the nation were those fifteen 
 thousand waiting troops of Fitz John Por- 
 ter in the hollow. But the rebels halted 
 instead of pushing on ; their vindictive can 7 
 nonade died away as the light faded. Be 
 fore it was quite dark, the battle was over. 
 
 With the day, (says the official report o 
 the commanding general,) closed this 
 memorable battle, in which, perhaps, 
 nearly two hundred thousand men were 
 for fourteen hours engaged in combat. 
 We had attacked the enemy in position, 
 driven them from their line on one flank, 
 and secured a footing within it on the 
 other. Under the depression of previous 
 reverses, we had achieved a victory over an 
 adversary invested with the prestige of 
 former successes and inflated with a recent 
 triumph. Our forces slept that night con- 
 querors on a field won by their valor, and 
 covered with the dead and wounded of the 
 enemy. 
 
 This has been called the bloodiest day 
 that America ever saw, and the fighting 
 was followed by the most appalling sights 
 upon the battle-field. Never, perhaps, was 
 the ground strewn with the bodies of the 
 dead and the dying in greater numbers or 
 in more shocking attitudes. The faces of 
 those who had fallen in the battle were, 
 after more than a day's exposure, so black 
 that no one would ever have suspected 
 that they were once white. All looked 
 like negroes, and as they lay in piles where 
 they had fallen, one upon another, they 
 filled the bystanders with a sense of horror. 
 In the road, they lay scattered all around, 
 and the stench which arose from the 
 bodies decomposing in the sun was almost 
 unendurable. Passing along the turnpike 
 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 541 
 
 from Sharpsburg to Hagerstown, that 
 night, it required the greatest care to keep 
 one's horse from trampling upon the dead, 
 so thickly were they strewn around. Along 
 the line for not more than a single mile, at 
 least one thousand five hundred there lay 
 unburied. 
 
 Such a spectacle was in keeping, of 
 course, with the terrible carnage incident 
 to such a prolonged and constant contest 
 between two such vast armies. The loss 
 of the union forces in this battle was, 
 according to General McClellan, two thou- 
 sand and ten killed, nine thousand four 
 hundred and sixteen wounded, and one 
 thousand and forty-three missing ; and 
 their total loss in the battles of the 14th 
 and 17th amounted to fourteen thousand 
 seven hundred and ninety-four. Of the 
 confederates killed, about three thousand 
 were buried by the unionists, and their 
 
 total loss in the two battles was estimated 
 by General McClellan at four thousand 
 killed, eighteen thousand seven hundred 
 and forty-two wounded, and five thousand 
 prisoners, besides stragglers sufficient to 
 make the number amount to some thirty 
 thousand. From the time the union 
 troops first encountered the confederates in 
 Maryland until the latter were driven back 
 into Virginia, (says McClellan,) we cap- 
 tured thirteen guns, seven caissons, nine 
 limbers, two field forges, two caisson bod- 
 ies, thirty-nine colors, and one signal flacr; 
 the union army lost neither gun nor color. 
 
 The confederates also iost three of their 
 bravest generals, Starke, Branch, and 
 Anderson. 
 
 General Keno's death was a severe blow 
 to the union army. He had been most 
 active all day, fearing no danger, and 
 appearing to be everywhere at the same 
 time. Safe up to seven o'clock, no one 
 dreamed of such a disaster as was to hap- 
 pen. He, with his staff, was standing a 
 little back of the wood, on a field, the con- 
 federate forces being directly in front. A 
 body of his troops were just before him, 
 and at this point the fire of the confeder- 
 ates was directed. A minie-ball struck 
 him and went through his body. He fell, 
 and, from the first, appeared to have a 
 knowledge that he could not survive the 
 wound he had received. He was instantly 
 carried, with the greatest care, to the rear, 
 followed by a number of the officers, and 
 attended by the division surgeon, Doctor 
 Cutter. At the foot of the hill he was laid 
 under a tree ; he died without the least 
 movement, a few minutes after. The 
 grief of the officers at this calamity was 
 heart-rending. The old soldier, just come 
 from the scene of carnage, with death star- 
 ing him in the face on every side, here 
 knelt and wept like a child ; indeed, no 
 eye was dry among those present. Thus 
 died one of the bravest generals that was 
 in the service of his country, and the intel- 
 ligence of his death was received by all 
 with the greatest sorrow, as it was well 
 known that but few could take the place 
 of so able and brave an officer. The com- 
 mand of the corps devolved upon General 
 Cox, who, from that time, directed the 
 movements of the army. 
 
 The fighting qualities of the southern 
 soldiers, in this battle, may be judged of 
 by the fact that the Fiftieth Georgia regi- 
 ment lost nearly all their commissioned 
 officers, and that at night, after the battle, 
 only fifty-five men, of the whole regiment, 
 remained fit for duty, nor did they have 
 anything to eat and drink for more than 
 forty-eight hours. This regiment was 
 posted in a narrow path, washed out into 
 a regular gully, and was fired into by the 
 
542 
 
 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 unionists from the front, the rear and left 
 flank. The men stood their ground un- 
 waveringly, returning fire until nearly 
 two-thirds of their number lay dead or 
 wounded in that lane. Out of two hun- 
 dred and ten carried into the fight, over 
 one hundred and twenty-five were killed 
 and wounded in less than twenty minutes. 
 The slaughter was horrible. When or- 
 dered to retreat, the living could scarcely 
 extricate themselves from the dead and 
 wounded lying around a man could have 
 walked from the head of the line to the 
 foot on their bodies. The survivors of the 
 regiment retreated very orderly back to 
 where General Anderson's brigade rested. 
 The brigade suffered terribly. James's 
 South Carolina battalion was nearly anni- 
 hilated. 
 
 There were not wanting also, incidents 
 of that class which show the qualities of 
 ludicrousness and cunning in human na- 
 ture, as, for instance, the following: 
 
 The New York One Hundred and Sev- 
 enth regiment supported Cotheren's bat- 
 tery ; and, during the hottest part of the 
 fight, the confederates massed themselves 
 opposite the union front, for an assault on 
 Cotheren's position. The battery was 
 short of ammunition, and so reserved their 
 fire, while throughout the whole field there 
 came a full in the tumult. The confeder- 
 ates advanced in a solid mass, with a pre- 
 cision of movement perfectly beautiful. 
 It was a moment which tried the nerves of 
 the bravest. In the meantime, one of the 
 lads, a noted sporting character becom- 
 ing quite interested in the affair, had 
 climbed a rock where he could view the 
 whole scene. He occupied the place, un- 
 mindful of the bullets which were buzzing 
 like bees all around. The confederates 
 came on until the unionists could see their 
 faces, and then Cotheren poured the canis- 
 ter into them. The advancing column 
 was literally torn to pieces by the fire. 
 At this, the lad on the rock became almost 
 frantic in his demonstrations of delight, 
 and as one of the battery sections sent a 
 shrapnel which mowed down in an instant 
 a long row of confederates, he swung his 
 
 cap, and, in a voice that could be heard by 
 the flying enemy, shouted out, " Bull-e-e- 
 e-e ! Set 'em up on the other alley ! " 
 
 General Sumner had a son, a captain on 
 his staff, who was but twent3'-one years of 
 age. During the battle, when the bullets 
 were whistling around the general's ears, 
 he found it necessary to send the young 
 man upon a mission of duty to a certain 
 portion of the field. After giving him the 
 requisite instructions, the general em- 
 braced him and said, " Good-by, Sammy." 
 " Good-by, father," was the response, and 
 the captain rode forth upon his mission. 
 On his return from his perilous errand, the 
 fond father grasped his hand, with the 
 simple remark, "How d'ye do, Sammy?" 
 The spectators of this filial scene were 
 much affected. 
 
 A union soldier belonging to a New 
 York regiment was wounded in the should- 
 ers. After dark, missing his regiment, he 
 became lost in the woods, and went in the 
 direction of the enemy. Seeing a party of 
 men ahead, he called out, " What regiment 
 do you belong to ? " They answered, 
 " The Third South Carolina. What do you 
 belong to ? " " The Tenth Virginia," was 
 the ready and apt reply ; saying which, he 
 moved off in the opposite direction, and 
 soon joined some union soldiers. His wits 
 saved him. 
 
 The report of this battle by Mr. Smal- 
 ley, in the New York Tribune, was pro- 
 nounced by General Hooker, in a conver- 
 sation with Mr. George Wilkes (himself an 
 accomplished journalist), a perfect repro- 
 duction of the scene and all its incidents. 
 In reply to a question by Mr. Wilkes, if 
 he knew who the Tribune reporter was, 
 General Hooker said : " I saw him first 
 upon the battle-field, when we were in the 
 hottest portion of the fight, early in the 
 morning. My attention was then attracted 
 to a civilian, who sat upon his horse, in 
 advance of my whole staff ; avid though he 
 was in the hottest of the fire, and the shot 
 and shell were striking and sputtering 
 around us like so much hail, he sat gazing 
 on the strife as steady and undisturbed as 
 if he were in a quiet theater, looking at a 
 
BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. 
 
 543 
 
 scene upon the stage. In all the experi- 
 ence which I have had of war, I never saw 
 the most experienced and veteran soldier 
 exhibit more tranquil fortitude and un- 
 shaken valor than was exhibited by that 
 young man. I was concerned at the need- 
 less risk which he invited, and told one of 
 my aids to order him in our rear. Pres- 
 ently, all my aids had left me, on one serv- 
 ice and another ; whereupon, turning to 
 give an order, I found no one but this 
 young stranger at my side. I then asked 
 him if he would oblige me by bearing a 
 dispatch to General McClellan, and by 
 acting as my aid, until some of my staff 
 should come up. He rode off with alacrity, 
 
 through a most exposed position, returned 
 with the answer, and served me as 
 an aid through the remainder of the 
 fight, till I was carried from the ground." 
 " His name, General ? " asked Mr. Wilkes. 
 "He was a young man, recently from 
 college, named George W. Smalley, 
 and I am writing to him now." No 
 one will regard General Hooker's opin- 
 ion of Mr. Smalley as any too high. 
 Similar, too, in descriptive ability and 
 power, was the war correspondence of 
 such men as Knox, Richardson, Conying- 
 ham, Coffin, Browne, Taylor, Bickham, 
 Crounse, Colburn, Davis, Keid, and some 
 others. 
 
LXVI. 
 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, AS A WAR MEAS- 
 URE, BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 1863. 
 
 More than Three Millions, in Bondage at the South, Declared Forever Free. Most Important Amer- 
 ican State Paper Since July 4th, 1776. Pronounced, by the President, " the Great Event of the 
 Nineteenth Century." The Whole System of Slavery Finally Swept from the Republic, by Vic- 
 tories in the Field and by Constitutional Amendments. Mr. Lincoln's Views on Slavery. Opposed 
 to all Unconstitutional Acts. His Orders to Union Generals. Prohibits the Arming of Negroes. 
 Alarming Progress of Events. The Great Exigency at Last Slavery versus the Union. Solemn 
 and Urgent Alternative. Emancipation Under the War Power. Preparation of the Great Document 
 Its Submission to the Cabinet. Opinions and Discussions Singular Reason for Delay. Mr. Lin- 
 coln's Vow to God. Waiting for a Union Triumph. Decided by the Battle of Antietam. Final 
 Adoption of the Measure. Mr. Carpenter's Admirable Narrative. Public Reception of the Procla- 
 mation. Promulgation at the South. Scenes of Joy Among the Freedmen. Enfranchisement 
 Added to Freedom. 
 
 " And upon this act. sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I Invoke the c 
 atoerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God." Til E PROCLAMATION. 
 
 EALOUSLY cherishing the humane personal wish, "that all men every- 
 where might be free," as expressed by himself in one of his most mem- 
 orable political letters, and inflexibly objecting to the introduction of 
 slavery into the new national territories, President Lincoln, nevertheless, 
 on every occasion avowed his opposition to all unconstitutional meas- 
 ures of interference with that system, as it existed in the States of the 
 South. Only under the stupendous exigency precipitated upon him 
 and upon the country, by the war inaugurated at Fort Sumter, and 
 now carried on with" such direful loss of blood and treasure for two long 
 years, for the destruction of the Union, did he avail himself of the high 
 and solemn prerogative of his position, as the sworn protector and 
 defender of the nation, to decree, substantially, the utter extinction of 
 slavery throughout all the borders of the land. 
 
 It was a war measure, done " upon military necessity," and in the 
 grave performance of which President Lincoln said : " I could not feel 
 that, to the best of my ability, I had even tried to preserve the Constitu- 
 tion, if, to preserve slavery, or any minor matter, I should permit the 
 wreck of government, country, and constitution altogether. When, early 
 in the war, General Fremont attempted military emancipation, I forbade 
 it, because I did not then think it an indispensable necessity. When, a 
 little later, General Cameron, then secretary of war, suggested the arm- 
 ing of the blacks, I objected, because I did not yet think it an indispen- 
 sible necessity. When, still later, General Hunter attempted military 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 emancipation, I again forbade it, because 
 I did not yet think the indispensable 
 necessity had come. When, in March and 
 May and July, 1862, I made earnest and 
 successive appeals to the border states to 
 favor compensated emancipation, I believed 
 the indispensable necessity for military 
 emancipation and arming the blacks would 
 come, unless averted by that measure. 
 They declined the proposition ; and I 
 was, in my best judgment, driven to the 
 alternative of either surrendering the 
 Union, and with it the Constitution, or of 
 laying strong hand upon the colored ele- 
 ment. I chose the latter." It will thus 
 be seen that, so far from being rash or 
 aggressive in his anti-slavery policy, he 
 favored no step in that direction, until 
 driven to it as a last and remediless alter- 
 native, from which there seemed no possi- 
 ble escape. 
 
 Singularly enough, this great measure 
 involving as mighty a moral, social, and 
 political revolution as was ever accom- 
 plished in any age or in any country was 
 distinctly expounded and foreshadowed by 
 John Quincy Adams, in a remarkable 
 debate which took place in the lower house 
 of congress, in 1842, and in the course of 
 which he said : " I believe that, so long as 
 the slave states are able to sustain their 
 institutions, without going abroad or call- 
 ing upon other parts of the Union to aid 
 them or act on the subject, so long I will 
 consent never to interfere. I have said 
 
 this ; and I repeat it ; but, if they come to 
 the free states and say to them, ' You must 
 help us to keep down our slaves, you must 
 aid us in an insurrection and a civil war,' 
 then I say that, with that call, comes a full 
 and plenary power to this house, and to the 
 senate, over the whole subject. It is a 
 war power; I say it is a war power ; and 
 when your country is actually in war, 
 whether it be a war of invasion or a war 
 of insurrection, congress has power to carry 
 on the war, and must carry it on according 
 to the laws of war ; and, by the laws of war, 
 an invaded country has all its laws and 
 municipal institutions swept by the board, 
 and martial law takes the place of them. 
 This power in congress has, perhaps, never 
 been called into exercise under the present 
 constitution of the United States. But, 
 when the laws of war are in force, what, 
 I ask, is one of those laws ? It is this : 
 that when a country is invaded, and two 
 hostile armies are set in martial array, the 
 commanders of both armies have power to 
 emancipate all the slaves in the invaded 
 territory." In proof of the correctness of 
 his assertion, Mr. Adams cited the well- 
 known historical case of the abolition of 
 slavery in Colombia, first by Murillo, the 
 Spanish general, and subsequently by 
 Bolivar, the American general, in each case 
 as a military act, and observed and main- 
 tained to this day. 
 
 Though the great American Proclama- 
 tion of Emancipation did not appear until 
 January 1, 1863, President Lincoln's mind 
 had for some months previously been drift- 
 ing in the direction of some such act. Aa 
 he himself expressed it, everything was 
 going wrong the nation seemed to have 
 put forth about its utmost efforts, and he 
 really didn't know what more to do, unless 
 he did this. Accordingly, he prepared a pre- 
 liminary proclamation, nearly in the form 
 in which it subsequently appeared, called 
 the cabinet together, and read it to them, 
 with the following result, as reported: 
 
 Mr. Montgomery Blair was startled. 
 " If you issue that proclamation, Mr. Pres- 
 ident," he exclaimed, "you will lose every 
 one of the fall elections." 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION 
 
 Mr. Seward, on the other hand, said, "I 
 approve of it, Mr. President, just as it 
 stands. I approve of it in principle, and 
 I approve the policy of issuing it. I oiilj 1 
 object to the time. Send it out now, on 
 the heels of our late disasters, and it will 
 be construed as the convulsive struggle of 
 a drown ing man. To give it proper weight, 
 you should reserve it until after some vic- 
 tory." The president assented to Mr. 
 Seward's view, and held the document in: 
 reserve. It appeared to the president, 
 that Mr. Seward's opinion was of great 
 wisdom and force. 
 
 Perhaps no account of this most memo- 
 rable event can be said to equal, in relia- 
 bility and graphic interest, that which is 
 furnished by Mr. F. B. Carpenter, in his 
 reminiscences of " Six Months at the 
 White House," while employed there in 
 
 executing that unrivaled masterpiece of 
 American historical painting the Procla- 
 mation of Emancipation which, by uni- 
 versal consent, has placed Mr. Carpenter's 
 .name second to none on the roll of eminent 
 modern artists. Enjoying, too, as he did, 
 the most intimate personal relations with 
 the author of that proclamation, the infor- 
 mation which he thus obtained from the 
 president's own lips, as to its origin, dis- 
 cussion, and final adoption, must forever 
 be the source from which, on this subject, 
 all historians must draw. 
 
 As already stated, the opinion of the 
 
 secretary of state in regard to the effect of 
 issuing such a proclamation at such a time, 
 impressed Mr. Lincoln very strongly. " It 
 was an aspect of the case that" said 
 President Lincoln to Mr. Carpenter, " in 
 all my thought upon the subject, I had 
 entirely overlooked. The result was that 
 I put the draft of the proclamation aside, 
 as you do your sketch for a picture, wait- 
 ing for a victory. From time to time I 
 added or changed a line, touching it up 
 here and there, anxiously watching the 
 progress of events. Well, the next news 
 we had was of Pope's disaster at Bull Bun. 
 Things looked darker than ever. Finally, 
 came the week of the battle of Antietam. 
 I determined to wait no longer. The news 
 came, I think, on Wednesday, that the 
 advantage was on our side. I was then 
 staying at the Soldiers' Home (three 
 miles out of Washington). Here I fin- 
 ished writing the second draft of the pre- 
 liminary proclamation ; came up on Sat- 
 urday ; called the cabinet together to hear 
 it, and it was published the following 
 Monday." At the final meeting of Sep- 
 tember 20th, another incident occurred in 
 connection with Secretary Seward. The 
 president had written the important part 
 of the proclamation in these words : 
 
 " That, on the first day of January, in 
 the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and sixty-three, all persons held 
 as slaves within any State or designated 
 part of a State, the people whereof shall 
 then be in rebellion against the United 
 States, shall be then, thenceforward, and 
 forever FREE ; and the Executive Govern- 
 ment^ the United States, including the 
 military and naval authority thereof, will 
 recognize the freedom of such persons, and 
 will do no act or acts to repress such per- 
 sons, or any of them, in any efforts they 
 may make for their actual freedom." 
 
 "When I finished reading this para- 
 graph, "resumed Mr. Lincoln, "Mr. Seward 
 stopped me, and said, ' I think, Mr. Presi- 
 dent, that you should insert after the word 
 " recognize," in that sentence, the words 
 " and maintain." ' I replied that I had 
 already considered the import of that ex- 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 f>47 
 
 pression in this connection, but I had not 
 introduced it, because it was not my way 
 to promise what I was not entirely sure 
 that I could perform, and I was not pre- 
 pared to say that I thought we were 
 exactly able to ' ' maintain ' this. But 
 Seward insisted that we ought to take this 
 ground, and the words finally went in. It 
 is a somewhat remarkable fact," he subse- 
 quently added, "that there were just one 
 hundred days between the dates of the two 
 proclamations issued upon the 22d of Sep- 
 tember and the 1st of January." 
 
 bany, N. Y., in 1864 ; it is in the proper 
 handwriting of Mr. Lincoln, excepting two 
 interlineations in pencil, by Secretary 
 Seward, and the formal heading and end- 
 ing, which were written by the chief clerk 
 of the state department. The final proc- 
 lamation was signed on New Year's Day, 
 1863. The president remarked to Mr. 
 Colfax, the same evening, that the signa- 
 ture appeared somewhat tremulous and 
 uneven. " Not," said he, " because of any 
 uncertainty or hesitation on my part ; but 
 it was just after the public reception, and 
 
 The original draft of the proclamation 
 was written upon one side of four half- 
 sheets or official foolscap. " He flung down 
 upon the table one day for me," continues 
 Mr. Carpenter, " several sheets of the same, 
 saying, ' There, I believe, is some of the 
 very paper which was used if not, it was, 
 at any rate just like it.' " The original draft 
 is dated September 22, 1862, and was pre- 
 sented to the Army Belief Bazaar, at Al- 
 
 three hours' hand-shaking is not calculated 
 to improve a man's chirography." Then 
 changing his tone, he added : " The south 
 had fair warning, that if they did not 
 return to their duty, I should strike at 
 this pillar of their strength. The promise 
 must now be kept, and I shall never recall 
 one word." 
 
 In answer to a question from Mr. Car- 
 penter, as to whether the policy of eman- 
 
548 
 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 cipation was not opposed by some mem- 
 bers of the cabinet, the president replied : 
 "Nothing more than I have stated to you. 
 Mr. Blair thought we should lose the fall 
 elections, and opposed it on that ground 
 only." " I have understood," said Mr. 
 Carpenter, "that Secretary Smith was not 
 in favor of your action. Mr. Blair told me 
 that, when the meeting closed, he and the 
 secretary of the interior went away to- 
 gether, and that the Jatter said to him, 
 that if the president carried out that pol- 
 icy, he might count on losing Indiana, 
 sure ! " "He never said anything of the 
 kind to me," responded the president. 
 " And what is Mr. Blair's opinion now ? " 
 I asked. " Oh," was the prompt reply, 
 "he proved right in regard to the fall elec- 
 tions, but he is satisfied that we have since 
 gained more than we lost." " I have been 
 told," I added, " that Judge Bates doubted 
 the constitutionality of the proclamation." 
 "He never expressed such an opinion in 
 my hearing," replied Mr. Lincoln; "no 
 member of the cabinet ever dissented from 
 the policy, in conversation with me." 
 
 It is well known that the statement 
 found very general currency and credence, 
 that, on the proclamation having been 
 read to the cabinet, Secretary Chase ob- 
 jected to the appearance of a document of 
 such momentous character without one 
 word beyond the dry phrases necessary to 
 convey its meaning, and finally proposed 
 that there should be added to the presi- 
 dent's draft, the sentence 'And upon this 
 act, sincerely believed to be an act of jus- 
 tice, warranted by the constitution, I 
 invoke the considerate judgment of man- 
 kind, and the gracious favor of Almighty 
 God.' The facts of the case, however, as 
 learned by Mr. Carpenter were these : 
 While the measure was pending, Mr. Chase 
 submitted to the president a draft of a 
 proclamation embodying his views of the 
 subject, and which closed with the solemn 
 and appropriate words referred to. Mr. 
 Lincoln adopted the sentence intact, as 
 Mr. Chase wrote it, excepting that he 
 inserted after the word 'constitution,' the 
 words 'upon military necessity;' and in 
 
 that form the document went to the world, 
 and to history. 
 
 Mr. Carpenter also makes an interesting 
 statement touching the religious aspect ot 
 Mr. Lincoln's mind, concerning this mo- 
 mentous matter, as follows : Mr. Chase 
 told me that at the cabinet meeting, imme- 
 diately after the battle of Antietam, and 
 just prior to the September proclamation, 
 the president entered upon the business 
 before them, by saying that " the time 
 for the annunciation of the emancipation 
 policy could be no longer delayed. Public 
 sentiment," he thought, "would sustain it 
 many of his warmest friends and sup- 
 porters demanded it and he had prom- 
 ised his God that he would do it!" 
 The last part of this was uttered in a low 
 tone, and appeared to be heard by no one 
 but Secretary Chase, who was sitting near 
 him. He asked the president if he had 
 correctly understood him. Mr. Lincoln 
 replied: "I made a solemn vow before 
 God, that if General Lee was driven back 
 from Pennsylvania, I would crown the 
 result by the declaration of freedom to the 
 slaves." In February, 1865, a few days 
 after the passage of the Constitutional 
 Amendment, Mr. Carpenter went to Wash- 
 ington, and was received by Mr. Lincoln 
 with the kindness and familiarity which 
 had characterized their previous inter- 
 course. I said to him at this time, (says 
 Mr. Carpenter,) that I was very proud to 
 have been the artist to have first conceived 
 the design of painting a picture commem- 
 orative of the Act of Emancipation ; that 
 subsequent occurrences had only confirmed 
 my own first judgment of that act as the 
 most sublime moral event in our history. 
 " Yes," said he, and never do I remem- 
 ber to have noticed in him more earnest- 
 ness of expression or manner, "as affairs 
 have turned, it is the central act of my 
 administration, and the great event of the 
 nineteenth century.'* 
 
 The scope of this most important state 
 paper ever issued since the Declaration of 
 Independence, was, to give liberty to more 
 than three millions of people. a number 
 equal to the whole population of the 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION 
 
550 
 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 United States -when the revolutionary 
 struggle with Great Britain commenced, 
 and about four-fifths of the whole slave 
 population. The work of emancipation 
 throughout all the borders of the land was 
 completed by victories in the field, and the 
 adoption of the Constitutional Amendment, 
 Article XIII., by which slavery was for- 
 ever and entirely swept from the Republic. 
 The reception of the proclamation by 
 the millions who were ranged on the side 
 of their country, praying and fighting for 
 the success of the union cause, was warm 
 and enthusiastic, the feeling being almost 
 universally prevalent that the nation had 
 entered upon a new and auspicious era, 
 and that, under such a banner, heaven 
 would crown our armies with victory, and 
 give perpetuity to our republic among the 
 governments of the earth. Generally, the 
 great document was the theme of earnest 
 and eloquent discourses from the northern 
 pulpits, the current of the preachers' 
 thoughts showing itself in the various sub- 
 jects or titles under which the event was 
 discussed, such as 'The Conflict between 
 Despotism and Liberty,' 'The duty of 
 uniting with our whole energies in execut- 
 ing the Emancipation Edict of the presi- 
 dent, to accomplish, by the blessing of 
 God, its beneficent results, without possi- 
 bility of failure,' 'The Jubilee of Free- 
 dom,' ' The Influence of Christianity on 
 the Abolition of Slavery,' these, though 
 but a few among thousands elicited by the 
 proclamation, indicate the hearty appreci- 
 ation of President Lincoln's course in issu- 
 ing the decree. From countless pulpits, 
 too, the momentous document was simply 
 read, without comment. 
 . Great public meetings of congratulation 
 and rejoicing were held in almost every 
 large town and city in the various north- 
 ern states. At the Cooper Institute, New 
 York, a grand jubilee came off, the colored 
 people of that city and of the surrounding 
 towns for many miles, gathering together 
 to do honor to so great a boon to their 
 race. The large hall was completely 
 packed, long before the hour at which the 
 proceedings were appointed to take place, 
 
 and multitudes had to be turned away 
 from the feast of eloquence and music 
 which was there enjoyed for several hours. 
 
 Two days after the issue of the procla- 
 mation, a large body of people assembled 
 before the White House, in Washington, 
 with a band of music, and called for the 
 president. He appeared, and made an 
 address of thanks to them for their cour- 
 tesy, in which, alluding to the proclama- 
 tion, he said, "What I did, I did after a 
 very full deliberation, and under a heavy 
 and solemn sense of responsibility. I can 
 only trust in God I have made no mis- 
 take." From the colored people of Balti- 
 more, Mr. Lincoln was the recipient of a 
 superb copy of the Bible, of the largest 
 size, and bound in violet-colored velvet. 
 The corners were bands of solid gold, and 
 the event carved upon a plate also of gold, 
 not less than one-fourth of an inch thick. 
 Upon the left-hand cover, was a design 
 representing the president in a cotton- 
 field, knocking the shackles off the wrists 
 of a slave, who held one hand aloft as if in- 
 voking blessings upon the head of his ben- 
 efactor, at whose feet was a scroll upon 
 which was written "Emancipation ; " upon 
 the other cover was a similar plate, bear- 
 ing the inscription : " To Abraham Lin- 
 coln, President of the United States, the 
 friend of Universal Freedom. From the 
 loyal colored people of Baltimore, as a 
 token of respect and gratitude. Baltimore, 
 July 4, 1864." 
 
 But the greatest interest necessarily 
 attaches to the reception which such an 
 amazing document met with on the part 
 of those who were or had recently been 
 slaves. Although by the terms of the 
 proclamation, the cities of Norfolk and 
 Portsmouth, Va., were excluded from its 
 operation, the slaves fully believed that 
 ' Massa Lincoln ' had emancipated them all ; 
 with this view, they refused to work with- 
 out wages, and, their former masters ac- 
 ceding to this, virtual emancipation was 
 the result in that region. On New Year's 
 day, the slaves of Norfolk, Portsmouth, 
 and Gosport, with the African strangers 
 gathered there, to the number of some 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 551 
 
 thousands, turned out en masse, and by 
 processions, speeches, liymns and songs of 
 jubilation, and by other demonstrations, 
 celebrated what was ever afterward to be 
 their Fourth of July. The exultation of 
 the slaves was great, and runny a notice- 
 able incident presented itself. "Massa," 
 said an old woman to a stranger near by, 
 " I have had twenty children. My Massa 
 and Missus sole 'em all off; one of my 
 gals was sole to buy young Missus her 
 piano. I used to stop my ears when I 
 heard her play on dat ar; I thought I 
 heard niy chile a crying out dat it was 
 bought wid her blood. Dey was all sole 
 off, I'se not got one left to bury me. 
 But I'sa free.' and my ole heart is glad 
 agin. I'll go happy to my grave." In 
 one of the colored churches in Norfolk, the 
 preacher took for his text, " Stand fast, 
 therefore, in the liberty wherewith Christ 
 has made you free," and with great inge- 
 nuity, and without irreverence, the 
 preacher showed how President Lincoln, 
 in emancipating them, had stood in Christ's 
 stead to them, and how it was now their 
 duty to stand fast, and fight for the liberty 
 which he, under God, had given them. 
 Singular enough, there rose from the 
 whole congregation a cry, as if with one 
 voice, "Amen ! glory be to God ! we'll 
 fight till de cows' tails drop off! " 
 
 In the Department of the South, em- 
 bracing Port Royal, S. C., and other 
 islands, it was very difficult to convince 
 the colored people that they were free, and 
 that the government, or Yankees, could be 
 in earnest. Christmas was to most of 
 them a sad day. General Saxton, there- 
 fore, who spared no effort to disabuse 
 their minds and inspire them with confi- 
 dence, issued his proclamation inviting the 
 people to assemble at the head-quarters of 
 the First South Carolina Volunteers, on 
 the first of January. Missionaries, min- 
 isters, superintendents and teachers, offi- 
 cers and privates, joined heartily in the 
 gathering. The word went out far and 
 near, but the people were suspicious. 
 Mischievous 01133 had told them it was a 
 trap to fores them into the army ; others 
 
 that they weie to be collected on steam- 
 boats that would run them to Cuba ; oth- 
 ers that they were to be got away from 
 their homes and sent into exile. But, at 
 an early hour of the sublimely beautiful 
 day, the people began to arrive at the 
 camping-ground, and, despite their fears, 
 thousands were there. The proceedings 
 opened with prayer and music, after which, 
 Judge Brisbane, of "Wisconsin, but a son 
 of South Carolina who, twenty-five years 
 previously, set all his slaves free, read the 
 emancipation act amidst the jubilant 
 shouts of the vast multitude; and when, 
 succeeding this, the proclamation of Gen- 
 eral Saxton was read, declaring that the 
 great act should be enforced, twelve deaf- 
 ening cheers burst forth from the thou- 
 sands of grateful and joyous hearts to 
 whom the good tidings of liberty and pro- 
 tection had thus come. An original ode 
 was then sung to the tune of ' Scots wha' 
 ha' wi' Wallace bled," and then came the 
 crowning feature of the day, the presenta- 
 tion by the Rev. Mr. French of a splendid 
 silk flag, with the embroidered inscription: 
 
 " To the First South Carolina Regiment. 
 The year of jubilee has come." 
 
 It was a very elegant flag, a gift from 
 Doctor Cheever's church in the city of 
 New York. As it passed from the hands 
 of Mr. French, the negroes struck up the 
 national air, " My country, 'tis of thee," 
 with fine effect. Colonel Higginson, who 
 had received the flag, stood waiting his 
 time to reply, with the golden tassels in 
 his hands. After an eloquent speech by 
 the colonel, he called the sergeant of Com- 
 pany A, "Prince Rivers," and a corporal 
 of another company, named Sutton, both 
 black men, and, handing over the flag 
 which had been presented, called upon 
 both to speak, which they did with great 
 acceptance. Other exercises of rejoicing 
 took place, and then attention was paid to 
 the physical wants of the happy throng. 
 For this purpose, ten beeves had been 
 slaughtered and were roasting in their 
 pits ; and these, with several hundred gal- 
 lons of molasses and water, a favorite 
 beverage of the negroes, and a full supply 
 
652 
 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 of hard bread, awaited the hungry expect- 
 ants. Thus ended the grand celebration 
 of the emancipation of the slaves of South 
 Carolina. 
 
 The observance of the event in other 
 parts of the south, wherever the authority 
 of the union forces was present to permit 
 it, was so similar in its character and 
 enthusiasm to what has already been nar- 
 rated, that it is unnecessary here to extend 
 the descriptions. By the army and its 
 officers, with here and there an exception, 
 the proclamation was regarded as an act to 
 which things had long been tending, and 
 which, under the circumstances of peril in 
 which the union had so long been placed, 
 was inevitable. Of course, no such proc- 
 lamation, in time of war, could have any 
 weight in the section of country at which 
 it was aimed, excepting as the union mili- 
 tary successes made it effective. Those 
 successes in due time reached every por- 
 tion of the south, and the fetters of every 
 bondman on American soil were thus 
 broken. Congress subsequently passed an 
 amendment to the constitution, forever 
 prohibiting slavery in any portion of the 
 republic, and this amendment, on being 
 ratified by the requisite number of states, 
 became a part of the organic law of the 
 land. 
 
 The original draft of the emancipation 
 proclamation, in the president's handwrit- 
 ing, was presented by Mr. Lincoln to the 
 great Northwestern Sanitary Fair, held at 
 Chicago, in the autumn of 18C3. The fol- 
 lowing letter accompanied the gift: 
 
 EXECUTIVE MANSION, 
 WASHINGTON, October 26, 1863. 
 
 To the Ladies having in charge the 
 Northwestern Fair for the Sanitary Com- 
 mission, Chicago, Illinois: 
 
 According to the request made in your 
 behalf, the original draft of the emancipa- 
 tion proclamation is herewith enclosed. 
 The formal words at the top, and the con- 
 clusion, except the signature, you perceive, 
 are not in my handwriting. They were 
 written at the State Department, by whom 
 I know not. The printed part was cut 
 
 from a copy of the preliminary proclama- 
 tion and pasted on, merely to save writing. 
 I had some desire to retain the paper; 
 but if it shall contribute to the relief or 
 comfort of the soldier, that will be better. 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 A. LINCOLN. 
 
 This chief treasure of that great fair was 
 purchased for three thousand dollars, by 
 the Hon. Thomas B. Bryan, for the Chi- 
 cago Soldiers' Home, of which he was 
 president. Lithographic copies of the doc- 
 ument were also sold for the benefit of the 
 same institution, and netted it thousands 
 of dollars. 
 
 One of the most important results of this 
 great measure, whether considered from a 
 moral, political, or social point of view, 
 was the Fifteenth Amendment to the Con- 
 stitution of the United States, by which 
 all citizens were made equal before the 
 law. 
 
 It was on the twenty-seventh of Febru- 
 ary, 1869, that congress passed a resolu- 
 tion in the following words: 
 
 A resolution proposing an amendment 
 to the Constitution of the United States. 
 
 Resolved, By the Senate and House of 
 Representatives of the United States of 
 America, in Congress assembled, two- 
 thirds of both Houses concurring, that the 
 following article be proposed to the legis- 
 latures of the several States as an amend- 
 ment to the Constitution of the United 
 States, which, when ratified by three- 
 fourths of the said legislatures, shall be 
 valid as a part of the Constitution, namely : 
 ARTICLE 15, Section 1. The right of 
 citizens of the United States to vote shall 
 not be denied or abridged by the United 
 States, or by any State, on account of race, 
 color, or previous condition of servitude. 
 Section 2. Congress sV.l have power to 
 enforce this article by appropriate legisla- 
 tion. 
 
 In about one year's time from the pas- 
 sage of this resolution, proclamation was 
 made by the secretary of state, Hon. Ham- 
 ilton Fish, that the proposed amendment 
 had been ratified by the legislatures of the 
 
PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. 
 
 553 
 
 states of North Carolina, West Virginia, 
 Massachusetts, Wisconsin, Maine, Louisi- 
 ana, Michigan, South Carolina, Pennsyl- 
 vania, Arkansas, Connecticut, Florida, 
 Illinois, Indiana, New York, New Hamp- 
 shire, Nevada, Vermont, Virginia, Ala- 
 bama, Missouri, Mississippi, Ohio, Iowa, 
 Kansas, Minnesota, Rhode Island, Ne- 
 braska, and Texas, twenty-nine in all, 
 and constituting three-fourths of the whole 
 number of states, and thus becoming valid, 
 to all intents and purposes, as a part of 
 the constitution of the United States. 
 
 Though not obligatory, as an executive 
 duty, President Grant communicated the 
 fact of the ratification to congress, in a 
 special message, on the thirtieth of March, 
 1870. " The measure " said the presi- 
 dent " which makes at once four millions 
 of the people voters who were heretofore 
 declared by the highest tribunal in the 
 land not citizens of the United States, nor 
 eligible to become so, with the assertion 
 that at the time of the Declaration of In- 
 
 dependence the opinion was fixed and uni- 
 versal in the civilized portion of the white 
 race, and regarded as an axiom in morals 
 as well as in politics, that black men had 
 no rights which white men were bound to 
 respect, is, indeed, a measure of grander 
 importance than any other one act of the 
 kind from the foundation of our free gov- 
 ernment to the present time. Institutions 
 like ours, in which all power is derived 
 directly from the people, must depend 
 mainly upon their intelligence, patriotism, 
 and industry. I call the attention, there- 
 fore, of the newly enfranchised race to the 
 importance of their striving, in every hon- 
 orable manner, to make themselves worthy 
 of their new privilege. To a race more 
 favored heretofore by our laws, I would 
 say, withhold no legal privilege of advance- 
 ment to the new citizens." So great an 
 event was not suffered to pass without pub- 
 lic demonstrations of joy commensurate 
 with its grand, beneficent, and elevating 
 scope, in almost all parts of the country. 
 
LXVII. 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBUKG, " THE GIBRALTAR OF 
 THE MISSISSIPPI," BY THE UNION FORCES. 1803. 
 
 The Genius, Valor, anil Resources of Both Armies Taskeil to their Utmost. Final Capitulation of the 
 City by General Pemberton, After a Prolonged and Brilliant Siege. Heaviest Blow Yet Dealt the 
 Secession Cause. General McPherson Receives the Formal Surrender. Thirty-seven Thousaud 
 Prisoners, Fifteen Generals, Arms and Munitions for Sixty Thousand Men, the Trophies. Geograph- 
 ical Importance of Vicksburg. Its Commanding Fortifications Farragut's Naval Siege Powerless 
 Sherman's Attack Repulsed. Grant Assumes Active Command. Vigorous Operations Undertaken. 
 His Series of Victorious Battles. Futile Attempt to Storm Vicksburg. Hours of Terrific Can- 
 nonading. A Systematic Siege Begun. Thorough Investment at all Points. Federal Sapping and 
 Mining. They Mine and Blow up Fort Hill. Awful Spectacle of Blood and Ruin. Deadly Strug- 
 gle for a Foothold. Success of the Forty-fifth Illinois. Their Colors Surmount the Work. Pember- 
 ton Sends a Flag of Truce. His Interview with Grant. Grant's Terms : " Unconditional Surrender." 
 The Victors Enter the City, July 4th. Curious Reminiscences. 
 
 " No thought of flighi. 
 None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 
 That antued fear ; each one himself relied 
 As only in IMS arm the moment lay 
 Of Victory!" 
 
 OPERATIONS AT VICKSBURO. 
 
 OUAVES, infantry, cavalry, artillery, offi- 
 cers and privates, picket, scout, and spy, 
 brave legions, led on by brave generals of 
 heroic purpose to noblest deeds, won glo- 
 rious honor to American arms, and to the 
 still more sacred cause of the American Union, 
 by the capture of the city of Vicksburg, the 
 stronghold of Mississippi, with all its defenses 
 and munitions, and its valorous army; an event 
 which, occurring on the fourth of July, filled the 
 hearts of all loyal Americans with peculiar joy, 
 while it was confessedly the heaviest and most 
 disastrous military blow which the confederate 
 cause had yet received during the two long years 
 of most eventful struggle. 
 
 Situated on the Mississippi river, on a com- 
 manding elevation, four hundred miles above New 
 Orleans, and fifty miles west of Jackson, it was the most 
 important point on the river between Natchez and Memphis, 
 and, at an early day, was strongly fortified by the confeder- 
 ate authorities of the state, forts being erected and abundance 
 of artillery supplied. More than a year before the final 
 
CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 555 
 
 tapitulation of the place under General 
 Pemberton to General Grant, the union 
 forces laid siege to the city, and Farragut 
 demanded the surrender of the forts ; the 
 silencing of the confederate batteries at 
 Grand Gulf, was among the earlier opera- 
 tions of the union gun-boats, which also 
 shelled the city for several weeks. Farra- 
 gut raised the naval siege, July 24, 1862. 
 General Grant had taken command of the 
 union army in that quarter in June, of the 
 same year, and, in December, organized 
 his army into four grand corps, the Thir- 
 teenth, Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seven- 
 teenth, commanded respectively by Gen- 
 erals McClernand, Sherman, Hurlbut, and 
 McPherson. At the close of this month, 
 Sherman started from Memphis, passed 
 down the Mississippi to the mouth of the 
 Yazoo, some ten miles above Vicksburg, 
 and ascending that river, advanced upon 
 Vicksburg on the north side, but, after 
 three days of severe fighting, was com- 
 pelled to retire with heavy loss. For a 
 time, the attack on the city was abandoned 
 as futile. 
 
 Early in February, 1863, General Grant 
 arrived and assumed active personal com- 
 mand of military operations, which he con- 
 ducted with great tact and vigor, succes- 
 sively defeating his opponents in engage- 
 ments at Port Gibson, Fourteen Mile 
 Creek, Raymond, Jackson, Champion's 
 Hill, and Big Black Bridge. The naval 
 forces co-operating in these movements 
 were under the efficient direction of Ad- 
 mirals Farragut and Porter. 
 
 After thoroughly investing the city on 
 all sides, the union troops forming a semi- 
 circle, with both flanks resting on the 
 river, an unsuccessful assault was made, 
 May 23d, by the combined land and naval 
 forces. The attack was a terrible one. 
 According to the correspondent of the Chi- 
 cago Tribune, it was characterized by the 
 following incidents: During the night, 
 the gun-boats and mortars lying in front of 
 the city kept up a continual fire, and 
 dropped their fiery messengers right and 
 left without distinction. During this bom- 
 bardment several buildings were set on 
 
 fire by the exploding shells, and lighted 
 up the darkness, revealing strange shapes 
 and wonderful outlines, standing out in 
 relief against the dark sky, which added 
 wonderful interest to the bombardment as 
 witnessed by the distant observer. It is 
 impossible to estimate the damage occa- 
 sioned by thus dropping into Vicksburg 
 those heavy eleven and thirteen inch shells. 
 Imagination falls far short of its reality. 
 Before the union forces approached the 
 city, General Pemberton ordered all the 
 women and children for miles around 
 Vicksburg to go within the intrenchments, 
 assuring them that in that way they would 
 escape all danger. The consequence was, 
 that there were a large number of non- 
 combatants in the city, exposed to all the 
 dangers of siege and bombardment. At 
 eight o'clock in the morning the cannon- 
 ading began, and continued, with scarcely 
 a moment's intermission, along the entire 
 line, until ten o'clock. From every hill- 
 top in front of the confederate works, 
 cannon were belching forth, and the fiery 
 tempest raged fearfully. Guns were dis- 
 mounted, embrasures torn up, parapets, 
 destroyed, and caissons exploded. It was 
 a fearful demonstration. For two long 
 hours did this cannonade continue, when 
 a general charge was made. Winding 
 through the valleys, clambering over the 
 hills everywhere, subjected to a murder- 
 ous enfilading and cross-fire, the advance 
 pressed up close to the confederate works 
 to find that a deep ditch, protected by 
 sharp stakes along the outer edge, lay 
 between them and the intrenchments. 
 They planted their flag directly before the 
 fort, and crouched down behind the em- 
 bankment, out of range of the confederate 
 fire, as calmly as possible, to await devel- 
 opments. The soldiers within the forts 
 could not rise above the parapet to fire at 
 them, for if they did, a hundred bullets 
 went whizzing through the air, and the 
 adventurers died. The confederates, how- 
 ever, adopted another plan ; taking a shell, 
 they cut the fuse close off, lighted it, and 
 rolled it over the outer slope of the em 
 bankmeut. Subsequently, with picks and 
 
556 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBUEG. 
 
 shovels, a way was dug into one fort, and 
 througli the breach the boys walked 
 bravely in. The first fort on the left of 
 the railroad was stormed by a portion of 
 General Carr's division, and gallantly 
 taken ; the colonel that led the charge was 
 wounded. On the center the fire was per- 
 sistent and terrible. Many brave officers 
 were killed and many more wounded. 
 Colonel Dollins, of the Eighty-first Illinois, 
 fell dead while leading his men to the 
 charge. Later in the afternoon, General 
 Hansom's brigade charged the works oppo- 
 site his position, with heavy loss. Steele 
 and Tuttle, on the right, were also vigor- 
 ously engaged, the loss sustained by the 
 former being considerable. 
 
 GENERAL J. C. PEMBEKTON. 
 
 The result of this assault rendered it 
 quite certain that Vicksburg could not be 
 taken by storm, and every possible appli- 
 ance was immediately put into requisition 
 by General Grant to accomplish his pur- 
 pose by systematic siege, and sappers and 
 miners performed an important part in 
 this great undertaking. The details of 
 this kind of work are well understood by 
 all, and need not be repeated here. Suf- 
 fice it to say, that one of the principal con- 
 federate forts was soon reached by this 
 subterranean process, the miners keeping 
 incessantly busy, day and night, until they 
 arrived far under the confederate fortifica- 
 tions, and within such near proximity to 
 the enemy, that the picks and shovels of 
 the latter, similarly engaged in the bowels 
 of the earth, could frequently be heard, 
 
 necessitating, above all things, incessant 
 wariness and the utmost possible expedi- 
 tion. How the matter was carried through, 
 the following account, made up from the 
 admirable dispatches of Messrs. Keim and 
 Fitzpatrick, of the New York Herald, will 
 abundantly show: 
 
 On the morning of June 25th, the work 
 of mining (says Mr. Fitzpatrick,) was com- 
 pleted, an immense quantity of gunpowder 
 was stored in the cavity prepared to re- 
 ceive it, and the fuse train was laid. At 
 noon, the different regiments of the Sev- 
 enteenth corps, selected to make the assault 
 on the breach when it should have been 
 effected, were marshaled in long lines 
 upon the near slopes of the hills immedi- 
 ately confronting the doomed fortifications, 
 where, disposed for the attack, impatiently 
 awaited the event. The confederates 
 seemed to have discovered that some move- 
 ment was on foot, for, from the moment 
 the federal troops came into position, until 
 the explosion took place, their sharpshoot- 
 ers kept up an incessant firo from the 
 whole line of their works. 
 
 At length all was in readiness ; the fuse 
 train was fired, and it went fizzing and 
 popping through the zigzag line of 
 trenches, until for a moment it vanished. 
 Its disappearance was quickly succeeded 
 by the explosion, and the mine under Fort 
 Hill was sprung. So terrible a spectacle 
 is seldom witnessed. Dust, dirt, smoke, 
 gabions, stockades, timber, gun-carriages, 
 logs in fact, everything connected with 
 the fort rose hundreds of feet into the 
 air, as if vomited forth from a volcano. It 
 is described by all who saw it as an awful 
 scene. 
 
 No sooner had the explosion taken place 
 (writes Mr. Keim), than the two detach- 
 ments acting as the forlorn hope ran into 
 the fort and sap. A brisk musketry fire 
 at once commenced between the two par- 
 ties, with about equal effect on either side. 
 No sooner had these detachments become 
 well engaged than the rest of Leggett's 
 brigade joined them and entered into the 
 struggle. The regiments relieving each 
 other at intervals, the contest now grew 
 
CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBCRG. 
 
 657 
 
 severe, both sides, determined upon holding 
 their own, were doing their best. Volley 
 after volley was fired, though with less car- 
 nage than would be supposed. The Forty- 
 fifth Illinois now charged immediately 
 up to the crest of the parapet, and here 
 suffered its heaviest, losing many officers 
 in the assault. After a severe contest of 
 half an hour, with varying results, the 
 flag of the Forty-fifth appeared vpon the 
 summit of the work! The position was 
 gained. Cheer after cheer broke through 
 the confusion and uproar of the contest, 
 assuring the troops everywhere along the 
 line that the Forty-fifth was still itself. 
 The colonel was now left alone in command 
 of the regiment, and he was himself badly 
 bruised by a flying splinter. The regi- 
 ment had also suffered severely in the line, 
 and the troops were worn out by excessive 
 heat and hard fighting. Relief was nec- 
 essary. Accordingly, another Illinois reg- 
 iment was ordered up, and the Forty-fifth 
 drawn off; this was at six o'clock P. M. 
 After this, the action was kept up briskly 
 but steadily for several hours, until dusk, 
 when the firing lulled and the men took a 
 respite. While the Forty-fifth was so 
 hotly engaged in the fort, the Twenty-third 
 Indiana followed its first detachment into 
 the sap, from which place they were to 
 hold the confederates at bay during the 
 contest for the fort. The confederates 
 fought desperately, as well at this point as 
 the other ; but the character of the engage- 
 ment was different, tho troops firing at 
 each other over breastworks of earth. 
 This regiment did excellent service. 
 
 The explosion of the mine was the signal 
 for the opening of the artillery of the 
 entire line.^ The left division of General 
 McPherson's Seventeenth or center corps 
 opened first, and discharges were repeated 
 along the left, through General Ord's 
 Thirteenth corps and Herron's extreme 
 left division, until the sound struck the 
 ear like the mutterings of distant thunder. 
 General Sherman, on the right, also opened 
 his artillery about the same time and occu- 
 pied the enemy's attention along his front. 
 Every shell struck the parapet, and, bound- 
 
558 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 ing over, exploded in the midst of the 
 opposing forces beyond. The scene at this 
 time was one of the utmost sublimity. 
 The roar of artillery, rattle of small 
 arms, the cheers of the men, flashes of 
 light, wreaths of pale blue smoke over dif- 
 ferent parts of the field, the bursting of 
 shells, the fierce whistle of solid shot, the 
 deep boom of the mortars, the broadsides 
 of the ships of war, and, added to all this, 
 the vigorous replies of the confederates, 
 set up a din which beggared all powers of 
 description. 
 
 After the possession of the confederate 
 fort was no longer in doubt, the pioneer 
 federal corps mounted the work with their 
 shovels and set to throwing up earth vig- 
 orously, in order to secure space for artil- 
 lery. A most fortunate peculiarity for 
 the union army in the explosion, was the 
 manner in which the earth was thrown 
 out. The appearance of the place was 
 that of a funnel, with heavy sides running 
 up to the very crest of the parapet, afford- 
 ing admirable protection not only for the 
 union troops and pioneers, but turned out 
 a ready made fortification in the rough, 
 which, with a slight application of the 
 shovel and pick, was ready to receive the 
 guns to be used at this point. 
 
 The capture of Vicksburg was now a 
 foregone conclusion, admitted even by its 
 devoted defenders themselves, as appeared 
 from the contents of a confederate mail- 
 bag, captured just at this time. At about 
 eight o'clock, therefore, on the morning of 
 July 3d, flags of truce appeared before 
 General Smith's front, when General 
 Bowen and Colonel Montgomery were led 
 blindfolded into the union lines. They 
 bore a sealed communication from General 
 Pemberton to General Grant, in which the 
 former proposed an armistice, with a view 
 to arranging terms for the capitulation of 
 Vicksburg three commissioners to be 
 appointed from each army, for this pur- 
 pose. General Pemberton added that he 
 made this proposition to save the further 
 effuaion of blood, and feeling himself fully 
 able to maintain his position for a yet 
 indefinite period. 
 
 To this document, General Grant made 
 immediate reply, assuring General Pem- 
 berton that the effusion of blood could at 
 any time be avoided by an unconditional 
 surrender of the city and garrison that 
 men who had shown so much endurance 
 and courage as those in Vicksburg would 
 be treated with all the respect due them as 
 prisoners of war by their adversary, and 
 concluded by informing General Pember- 
 ton that he did not favor the appointment 
 of commissioners to arrange for a capitula- 
 tion, as he had no other terms than those 
 just indicated. 
 
 General Pemberton then solicited a per- 
 sonal interview, which was acceded to by 
 General Grant, and appointed for three 
 o'clock p. M., General Pemberton's mes- 
 sengers returning with the answer at 
 eleven A. My At three o'clock precisely, 
 <Jne gun, the prearranged signal, was 
 fired, and immediately replied to by the 
 confederates. General Pemberton then 
 made his appearance on the works in 
 McPherson's front, under a white flag, 
 considerably on the left of Fort Hill. 
 General Grant rode through the union 
 trenches until he came to an outlet, lead- 
 ing to a small green space, which had not 
 been trod by either army. Here the party 
 halted, until General Pemberton appeared, 
 accompanied by General Bowen and 
 Colonel Montgomery. Thousands of sol- 
 diers looked upon this strange scene. Two 
 men, who had been lieutenants in the 
 same regiment in Mexico, now met as foes, 
 with all the world, in a certain sense, 
 looking upon them. When they had ap- 
 proached within a few feet, Colonel Mont- 
 gomery said 
 
 "General Grant, General Pemberton." 
 
 They shook hands and greeted each 
 other familiarly, Pemberton remarking, 
 playfully, " I was at Monterey and Buena 
 Vista. We had terms and conditions 
 there." 
 
 It was beneath the outspreading 
 branches of a gigantic oak that the confer- 
 ence of the generals took place. Here 
 presented the only space which had no* 
 been used for some purpose or other bj 
 
CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 559 
 
 the contending hosts. Tho ground was 
 covered with a fresh, luxuriant verdure; 
 here and there a shrub or clump of bushes 
 could be seen standing out from the green 
 growth on the surface, while several oaks 
 filled up the scene, and gave it character. 
 Some of the trees in their tops exhibited 
 the effects of flying projectiles, by the loss 
 of limbs or torn foliage, and in their 
 trunks the indentations of smaller missiles 
 plainly marked the occurrences to which 
 they had been silent witnesses. The party 
 made up to take part in the conference 
 was composed as follows : Major-Generals 
 Grant and McPherson, and Brigadier-Gen- 
 eral Smith, of the union army ; and Lieu- 
 tenant-General Pemberton, Major-General 
 Bowen, and Colonel Montgomery, of the 
 confederate army. It was not long before 
 the momentous business which brought 
 the party together was begun by General 
 Pemberton saying 
 
 GENERAL J. B. MCPHERSON. 
 
 * General Grant, I meet you in order to 
 arrange terms for the capitulation of the 
 city of Vicksburg and its garrison. "What 
 terms do you propose ? " 
 
 " Unconditional surrender," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " Unconditional surrender ? " repeated 
 General Pemberton; "Never, so long as I 
 have a man left me ! I will fight rather." 
 
 "Then, sir," rejoined General Grant, 
 " you can continue the defense. My army 
 has never been in a better condition for 
 the prosecution of the siege." 
 
 During the passing of these few prelim- 
 inaries, General Grant manifested all his 
 
 natural self-possession, and evinced not 
 the least sign of embarrassment ; and after 
 a short conversation standing, the two 
 generals, as by a kind of mutual tendency, 
 wandered off* from the rest of the party 
 and seated themselves on the grass, in a 
 cluster of bushes, where alone they talked 
 over the important events then pending. 
 Here they sat more than an hour. Pem- 
 berton played with the grass and pulled 
 leaves. Grant, as usual, talked coolly, 
 occasionally giving a few puffs at his favor- 
 ite companion his black cigar. Gener- 
 als McPherson, Smith, and Bowen, and 
 Colonel Montgomery, imitating the exam- 
 ple of the commanding generals, seated 
 themselves at some distance off, while the 
 respective staffs of the generals formed 
 another and larger group in the rear. 
 After a lengthy conversation the generals 
 separated. General Pemberton did not 
 come to any conclusion on the matter, but 
 stated his intention to submit the matter 
 to a council of general officers of his com- 
 mand; and, in the event of their assent, 
 the surrender of the city should be made 
 in the morning. Until morning was given 
 him to consider and determine upon the 
 matter, and send in his final reply. The 
 generals then rode to their respective 
 quarters. It was, however, agreed that 
 General Grant should confer with his offi- 
 cers, and transmit, in writing, to General 
 Pemberton, the terms he would accept. 
 Promptly the note was sent by the hands 
 of General Logan and Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Wilson. It demanded, as from the first, 
 the entire surrender of the place, the gar- 
 rison, and the stores. " On your accepting 
 the terms proposed," General Grant's note 
 stated, " I will march in one division as a 
 guard, and take possession at eight o'clock 
 to-morrow morning. As soon as paroles 
 can be made out, and signed by the officers 
 and men, you will be allowed to march out 
 of our lines, the officers taking with them 
 their regimental clothing, and staff, field, 
 and cavalry officers one horse each. The 
 rank and file will be allowed all their 
 clothing, but no other property." 
 
 Early the next morning, the glorious 
 
560 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 INTERVIEW BETWEEN OENEEALS GRANT AND PEMBEKTON. 
 
 Fourth of July, General Pemberton's reply 
 was returned. He accepted the terms on 
 condition that his troops should be per- 
 mitted to march out with their colors and 
 arms, stacking them outside of their works. 
 To this, Grant made no objection. 
 
 In his account of the grand closing 
 scene in this momentous military transac- 
 tion, Mr. Keim states that it was about 
 one o'clock p. M., before matters had as- 
 sumed such a state of completion as would 
 admit of the entrance of the city by the 
 union army. To General HcPherson was 
 accorded the honor of formally receiving 
 the stipulated surrender. He met Pem- 
 berton half a mile within the lines, where 
 they were soon joined by Grant, and all, 
 after a few minutes' parley, rode together 
 into town. Upon arriving at the court- 
 house, the troops were drawn up in line, 
 facing the building, and the national en- 
 sign raised from its towering dome. This 
 done, the ceremony of possession was com- 
 pleted by the display of the flags of the 
 Forty-fifth Illinois infantry, and of the 
 head-quarters of the Seventee'ith corps. 
 Upon the appearance of the flags, the 
 troops joined in singing "Ratty Round 
 the Flag," with tumultuous enthusiasm, 
 and cheered vociferously making the city 
 ring and echo to its very suburbs. In 
 consideration of the active part taken by 
 the Seventeenth corps in the campaign 
 
 which culminated in the capture of Vicks- 
 burg, that command was designated by 
 General Grant to take possession of the 
 city. No sooner was the flag thrown to 
 the breeze from the court-house, than the 
 admiral's glass caught sight of its beauti- 
 ful folds, and in due time his vessel 
 steamed down to the city, followed by all 
 the gun-boats in the neighborhood, and 
 took possession of a few feet of river front. 
 All this was duly done, after the authority 
 of the army of the United States was 
 secured beyond doubt. 
 
 Rarely if ever before was such a Fourth 
 of July celebrated as this of 1863. The 
 tidings of the victories of Gettysburg and 
 Vicksburg mingled together, and in every 
 part of the loyal north enthusiastic demon- 
 strations of joy were indulged in. On the 
 fifteenth of July, President Lincoln issued 
 a proclamation appointing August sixth as 
 a day of national thanksgiving. 
 
 The result of this memorable campaign 
 and siege, as stated by General Grant, 
 was, ' the defeat of the confederates in five 
 battles outside of Vicksburg ; the occupa- 
 tion of , Jackson, the capital of Mississippi ; 
 a loss to the confederate army of thirty- 
 seven thousand prisoners, among whom 
 were fifteen general officers and at least 
 ten thousand killed and wounded, and 
 among the killed Generals Tracy, Tilgh- 
 nwn, and Green, and hundreds, perhaps 
 
CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG. 
 
 5IJ1 
 
 thousands, of stragglers, who can never be 
 collected and reorganized. Arms and 
 munitions of war for an army of sixty 
 thousand men have fallen into our hands; 
 besides a large amount of other public 
 property, consisting of railroads, locomo- 
 tives, cars, steam-boats, cotton, etc.' The 
 losses of the union army were about one 
 thousand killed and a little more than 
 seven thousand wounded about one-half 
 of them only slightly, and between five 
 and six hundred missing. 
 
 In all respects, the campaign resulting 
 in the capture of Vicksburg was one of the 
 most skillful in the annals of military 
 strategy, and has justly been pronounced 
 unequaled in brilliancy of conception and 
 the masterly tact with which it was exe- 
 cuted. One specially grand feature in the 
 result was, that by silencing the confeder- 
 ate batteries that had so long controlled 
 the Mississippi, that most majestic river 
 on the globe was again thrown open for 
 the unrestricted commerce of the United 
 States from Cairo to the Gulf or, as 
 President Lincoln expressed it, 'The 
 Father of Waters again goes unvexed to 
 the sea.' 
 
 One of the most interesting chapters in 
 the history of this campaign is that con- 
 tained in a narrative of General Grant's 
 interview with his friend Mr. Dubois, of 
 Illinois, the facts of which, as given some 
 time after in the public journals, were as 
 follows : 
 
 Early in April, 1863, Generals Grant, 
 Sherman, and Oglesby, Secretary of State 
 Hatch, and Auditor Jesse R. Dubois, of 
 Illinois, with some others, were on board 
 the flagship of Commodore Porter's squad- 
 ron, the party having been up the Yazoo 
 river to Haiues's Bluff, on a reconnoisance 
 of the fortifications. While the other 
 gentlemen were in the cabin, discussing 
 public questions, General Grant and his 
 friend Dubois withdrew, and being in 
 company together on the deck, the follow- 
 ing conversation, in substance, ensued. 
 General Grant said 
 
 " Uncle Jesse, to tell you the truth, I 
 have come to my wit's end as regards the 
 36 
 
 capture of Vicksburg. I really do not 
 know what next move to make. I have 
 tried everything I could think of, and here 
 we are yet. I have been advised that we 
 go back to Memphis, and commence an 
 overland march from that point." 
 
 "General Grant, you cannot do that. 
 If you take this army back to Memphis, 
 with all this array of gun-boats and trans- 
 ports and all your material of war, the 
 effect will be disastrous on the country. 
 . . . . If you can do no better, you 
 must storm Vu-ksburg. If it costs the 
 lives of forty thousand men, it must be 
 taken. It is a terrible thing to think of, 
 but it must be done." 
 
 General Grant replied that he would 
 reflect upon the matter during the night, 
 and let Mr. Dubois know of his determin- 
 ation in the morning. When the morning 
 came, General Grant said 
 
 " Uncle Jesse, you are going home to- 
 day ; tell Governor Yates and the people 
 of Illinois for me, that I will take Vicks- 
 burg in sixty days." 
 
 " General Grant, I am glad to hear you 
 say this ; but all I ask you will allow me 
 to tell them is, that you will take Vicks- 
 burg, I don't care whether in sixty days 
 or six months." 
 
 " / am bound to take it. I have decided 
 on my plans. I will not tell you what 
 they are. Even with the best intentions, 
 you might disclose them to the detriment 
 of the movement." 
 
 They then parted, and General Grant 
 detailed his plan to General Sherman, who 
 protested in writing, but placed himself 
 under the general's orders. 
 
 Auditor Dubois went home and told 
 Governor Yates that Grant would take 
 Vicksburg; that he had no doubt of it; 
 that General Grant told him to tell him 
 so, and that he must tell it to the people 
 as coming from General Grant. This 
 promise of General Grant was published 
 in the papers at the time, and Governor 
 Yates repeated it from the stump. 
 
 Not the least interesting incidents in 
 connection with this matter, in view of the 
 final result, are, the written protest by 
 
562 
 
 CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBUEG. 
 
 General Sherman against General Grant's 
 circuitous march around Vicksburg, and 
 by which he cut himself oft' from his base 
 of supplies ; General Sherman's direction 
 that the protest be forwarded to Washing- 
 ton, and General Grant's never so forward- 
 ing it; and afterward, when Vicksburg 
 was about to surrender, the tearing up of 
 said protest, by General Grant, in General 
 Sherman's presence, much to the satisfac- 
 tion of the latter. 
 
 A more humorous incident, and which 
 will bear to be repeated, was that which 
 transpired in the presence of President 
 
 Lincoln, to whom complaint had been 
 made that General Grant was in the habit 
 of using intoxicating drinks to excess. 
 " So I understand Grant drinks whiskey to 
 excess ? " interrogatively remarked the 
 president. " Yes," was the reply. " What 
 whiskey does he drink?" inquired Mr. 
 Lincoln. " What whiskey ? " doubtfully 
 queried his hearers. " Yes. Is it Bour- 
 bon or Monongahela?" "Why do you 
 ask, Mr. President?" "Because, if it 
 makes him win victories like this at Vicks- 
 burg, I will send a demijohn of the same 
 kind to every general in the army.'' 
 
LXVI1I. 
 
 THREE DAYS' BATTLE BETWEEN THE CONCENTRATE!* 
 
 ARMIES OF GENERALS MEADE AND LEE, AT 
 
 GETTYSBURG, PA. 1863. 
 
 Overwhelming Invasion of Pennsylvania by the Confederate Forces The Union Army Drives Them 
 with Great Slaughter Across the Potomac. Unsuccessful Attempt to Transfer the Seat of War from 
 Virginia to Northern Soil. One of the Most Decisive and Important Federal Victories in the Great 
 American Civil Conflict. Lee's Army Impatient to go North. Order of March at Last. Consterna- 
 tion in the Border States. Call for One Hundred Thousand More Men Advance of Meade's Army. 
 Face to Face witli the Foe. Engagement Between the Vanguards. Terrific Artillery Contests. 
 Movements and Counter Movements. Severe Reverses on Both Sides. Carnage at Cemetery 
 Hill. Longstreet's Furious Onset Most Destructive Cannonade. Gettysburg a Vast Hospital. 
 Crawford's Grand Charge Standing by the Batteries ! Hand-to-Hand Conflict. Following the 
 Battle-Flag. Deadly and Impetuous Fighting. Forty -one Confederate Standards Taken. Un- 
 bounded Joy ol the Victors. President Lincoln's Announcement. 
 
 * this day hath made 
 
 Much work {(,' tear* in many a haplere mother, 
 Whoae aonfl li Mattered on the bleeding ground." 
 
 EE'S vast and powerful army had long waited, with eager and restlesa 
 expectation, for the order of march from their chieftain which should 
 
 enable them to transfer the seat of civil war 
 from the familiar encampments and blood- 
 stained battle-fields of Virginia to the soil of 
 the North. The plans of the commanding 
 general were in due time arranged with this 
 end in view, and, about the middle of June, 
 1863, he began to move his troops across the 
 Potomac, and soon took possession of Hagers- 
 town, Md., intending immediately to move 
 thence, in full force, direct to Pennsylvania. 
 Such a movement, on the part of the con- 
 federate army, so sudden and well executed, produced great consternation 
 throughout the north. President Lincoln issued a call for one hundred thousand addi- 
 tional men from the loyal states nearest the theater of military operations ; and Gen- 
 eral Meade, who had just succeeded General Hooker in command of the army of the 
 Potomac, lost no time in advancing his army northward, as far as Harrisburg, Pa., the 
 place of destination of Lee's forces. The army of General Meade consisted of the fol- 
 lowing corps : First, under command of General Reynolds, and subsequently under 
 
 MEADE'S HEAD-QCAKTERS. 
 
564 
 
 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 General Doubleday ; second, under Gen- 
 eral Hancock ; third, under General Sick- 
 les ; fifth, under General Sykes ; sixth, 
 under General Sedgwick ; eleventh, under 
 General Howard ; twelfth, under General 
 Slocum. Total number of men, sixty to 
 eighty thousand, with two hundred guns. 
 The army of General Lee consisted of 
 General Hill's corps, General Longstreet's, 
 and General Swell's; in all, about ninety 
 thousand men, and two hundred guns. 
 
 On the first of July, the advanced corps 
 of the union army, led by Reynolds and 
 Howard, engaged the confederate forces 
 near Gettysburg. General Reynolds ap- 
 proached the town from the south-east, the 
 confederates evacuating it on his arrival. 
 He passed through and out (says the 
 account of a writer in the Philadelphia 
 Age) on the west side toward Chambers- 
 burg. He marched several miles, was met 
 by the enemy in stronger force, and after 
 a slight contest was compelled to retire. 
 The confederates pushed him very hard, 
 and he came into the town on a run, his 
 troops going along every available roacl 
 and rushing out on the east side, closely 
 pursued. One of his brigades with a con- 
 federate brigade on each side of it. All 
 three were abreast, running as hard as 
 they could, the two outside ones pouring 
 a heavy fire into the center, out of which 
 men dropped, killed or wounded, at almost 
 every footstep. This federal brigade, in 
 running that terrible gauntlet, lost half its 
 men. General Reynolds was killed, and 
 Gettysburg was lost; but the federal 
 troops succeeded in mounting the Ceme- 
 tery Hill, and the confederates ceased pur- 
 suing. At night, the latter encamped in 
 the town, and the union troops on the 
 hill. During Wednesday night and 
 Thursday morning, the two armies were 
 concentrating on the two ridges, which 
 were to be the next day's line of battle, 
 and by noon on Thursday each general 
 had a force of eighty thousand men at his 
 disposal. Then began the great artillery 
 contest, the infantry on both sides crouch- 
 ing behind fences and trees and in rifle- 
 pits. The federal soldiers in the cemetery 
 
 laid many of the tombstones on the ground 
 to prevent injury, so that many escaped. 
 There was but little infantrj' fighting on 
 Thursday, and neither party made much im- 
 pression on the other. The confederates in 
 the other town erected barricades, and had 
 their sharpshooters posted in every availa- 
 ble spot, picking off federal soldiers on the 
 hills to the north of the cemetery. The 
 cannonade was fierce and incessant, and 
 shells from both sides flew over and into 
 the devoted town. Beyond killing and 
 wounding, breaking trees and shattering 
 houses, and making an awful noise, how- 
 ever, this cannonade had but little effect 
 on the result of the battle. Both sides 
 fought with great ferocity, and neither 
 could drive the other out of position. 
 
 On Thursday night, fearing that the 
 enemy had flank parties which might turn 
 his rear, General Meade had serious inten- 
 tions of a change in his plan of movements, 
 and he called a council of war. The ad- 
 vice of some of his generals, however, and 
 the capture of a courier with dispatches 
 from Richmond, from which it was learned 
 that the confederates could receive no 
 re-enforcements, made him decide not to 
 alter his programme. On Friday morning, 
 General Lee did not desire to make the 
 attack. He saw the superiority of the 
 federal position, and wished to entice them 
 out of it and down into the valley. With 
 this design in view, he withdrew all his 
 sharpshooters and infantry from Gettys- 
 burg. The deserted town lay there a very 
 tempting bait, but General Meade's men 
 hid quietly behind the fences and trees, 
 and the banks upon the hills. They could 
 look down into the streets and see every- 
 thing that was in progress. They saw the 
 confederates march out and retire to the 
 seminary, but made no advance, and the 
 confederates gained nothing by the move- 
 ment. A parting salute of musketry, 
 however, from a knoll north of the ceme- 
 tery, accelerated the confederate retreat. 
 For some time the town had scarcely a 
 soldier in it. Scores of dead and wounded 
 men and horses, with broken wagons, 
 bricks, stones, timber, torn clothing, and 
 
BATTLE OF GETTYSBUEG. 
 
 565 
 
 abandoned accoutrements, lay there. The 
 frightened inhabitants peered out of their 
 windows to see what the armies were doing 
 to cause such a lull, and, almost afraid of 
 their own shadows, they hastened away 
 and crouched in corners and cellars at the 
 sound of every shot or shell. 
 
 Of the stirring scenes that so soon fol- 
 lowed, the same correspondent says : Gen- 
 eral Lee's evacuation, however, had no 
 effect. Meade was neither to be enticed 
 into the town nor into the valley. Enough 
 dead bodies lay in the fields and streets to 
 give him warning of what happened to 
 poor Reynolds two days before, and he 
 wisely determined to stay where he was 
 and let events shape themselves. The 
 confederates soon became impatient. They 
 could wait no longer; and after much 
 solicitation from his subordinates, General 
 
 Lee permitted General Longstreet to send 
 his grand division on a charge upon the 
 cemetery. The federal soldiers were on 
 the alert. They were hid behind their 
 embankments, some kneeling, and some 
 flat on the ground. The confederate artil- 
 lery opened. It was as fierce a cannonade 
 as the one the day before, but instead of 
 being spread all over the line, every shell 
 was thrown at the cemetery. Experienced 
 soldiers soon divined what was coming, 
 and, in every portion of the federal line, 
 the cannon were directed toward the valley 
 in front of the cemetery. All were ready. 
 Amidst the furious fire from the confeder- 
 
 ate cannon scarcely a federal s,hot was 
 heard. The artillerists, implements in 
 hand, crouched in the little ditches dug 
 behind their cannon. With arms loaded, 
 the infantry awaited the charge. It soon 
 came. From the woods of short, scrubby 
 timber and the rocks near the seminary, 
 there rose a yell. It was a long, loud, 
 unremitting, hideous screech, from thou- 
 sands of voices. At the yell, the federal 
 cannon opened. Soon the confederate col- 
 umns emerged from the woods. They 
 came on a rush down the hill, waving their 
 arms and still screeching. They climbed 
 the fences and rushed along, each one bent 
 upon getting first into the cemetery. The 
 cannon roared, and grape and canister and 
 spherical case fell thick among them. 
 Still they rushed onward, hundreds falling 
 out of the line. They came within musket- 
 shot of the federal troops. Then the small 
 arms began to rattle. The confederates 
 approached the outer line of works. They 
 were laboring up the hill. As they 
 mounted the low bank in front of the rifle- 
 pits, the federal soldiers retreated out of 
 the ditch behind, turning and firing as 
 they went along. It was a hand-to-hand 
 conflict. Every man fought for himself 
 and by himself. Myriads of conf . derates 
 pushed forward down the hill, across into 
 the works, and up to the cemetery. All 
 were shouting, and screaming, and swear- 
 ing, clashing their arms and firing their 
 pieces. The confederate shells flew over 
 the field upon the federal artillerists on 
 the hills above. These, almost disregard- 
 ing the storm which raged around them, 
 directed all their fire upon the surging 
 columns of the enemy's charge. Every 
 available cannon on Cemetery Hill, and to 
 the right and left, threw its shells and 
 shot in the valley. The fight was terrible ; 
 but, despite every effort, the confederates 
 pushed up the hill and across the second 
 line of works. The fire became hotter. 
 The fight swayed back and forth. One 
 moment the confederates would beat the 
 railings of the cemetery; then a rush 
 from the federal side would drive them 
 down into the valley. Then, with one of 
 
666 
 
 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 their horrid screeches, they would fiercely 
 run up the hill again into the cemetery, 
 and have a fierce battle among the tomb- 
 stones. It was the hardest fight of the 
 day, and hundreds were slain tnere. Sev- 
 eral attempts were made to take the place, 
 but they were not successful, and late in 
 the afternoon, leaving dead and wounded 
 behind them, the confederate forces re- 
 treated upon their own hill and into their 
 woods again. They were not routed. 
 Thy jan scarcely be said to have been 
 driven. They made an attack and were 
 repulsed, and, after renewed attempts, 
 feeling that it was useless to try any more, 
 they retreated. It was now General 
 Meade's turn to make an attack. Though 
 they had lost heavily they felt elated. 
 They saw hopes of a victory, and were 
 ready to do almost anything to secure it. 
 Although there had been a battle in the 
 valley below Gettysburg, yet the town was 
 as quiet and as much deserted as ever. 
 Shells flew over it, and now and then one 
 of its houses would have a wall cracked or 
 a roof broken, but neither force possessed 
 it. General Meade turned his attention 
 there. 
 
 The day was waning and the battle had 
 lulled, r;nd Meade determined, if possible, 
 to drive the confederates out of the semin- 
 ary. This was done, according to the 
 writer already quoted, as follows: His 
 troops were placed in order, and charged 
 down the hill and into the town. They 
 ran along every street, chasing a few of 
 the enemy still hid there, before them. 
 They came out upon the west side, along 
 the Emmettsburg and Chambersburg 
 roads, and ascended the enemy's hills 
 amidst a storm of grape and shell. At 
 the seminary the confederates were not 
 very strong. They had weakened that 
 portion of the line to make their attack 
 further to the south upon the cemetery. 
 They had but few cannon ; and though 
 they resisted some time, they finally re- 
 treated from the edge of the hill and aban- 
 doned the seminary. The federal troops 
 did not chase them. The land back of the 
 seminary was rather flat and cut up into 
 
 grain fields, with here and there a patch 
 of woods. The rifle-pits on the brow of 
 the hill proved an effectual aid to the fed- 
 eral soldiers in maintaining their ground; 
 and as they lay behind the bank, with the 
 ditch in front, they could pick off the 
 stragglers from the retreating enemy. 
 There was but little serious fighting after 
 that, and night put an end to Friday's 
 struggle, the confederates having retired 
 about a mile on the north, near the semin- 
 ary, and half a mile on the south, at a 
 little stream. During the night, the dead 
 in the streets of Gettysburg were buried, 
 and the wounaed on all parts of the field 
 were collected and carried to the rear. On 
 the next morning, General Meade expected 
 another attack ; but, instead of making it, 
 the confederates retreated further, aban- 
 doning their entire line of battle, and the 
 pickets reported that they were intrench- 
 ing at the foot of South Mountain. The 
 federal army was terribly crippled and 
 sadly in need of rest, and no advance was 
 made, although pickets were thrown across 
 the enemy's old line of battle, and toward 
 the place where they were building in- 
 trenchments. All the day was spent in 
 feeding and resting the men. Gettysburg 
 was turned into a vast hospital, and im- 
 promptu ones were made at a dozen places 
 on the field. The rain came, too, and with 
 it cool air and refreshment both from wind 
 and rain. No one could tell what the con. 
 federates were doing ; every picket reported 
 that they were intrenching, and the night 
 of the fourth of July closed upon the field, 
 the federal army being in full possession. 
 
 The gallant charge made by the division 
 under Crawford's command, contributed 
 very materially to saving the left of the 
 federal army. The confederates had 
 massed their troops on Crawford's left. 
 The third corps, Sickles's, had been en- 
 gaging the enemy, but were overpow- 
 ered, and several guns had been lost. 
 Two divisions, of the fifth corps, Sykes's, 
 had been also engaged, but nothing could 
 withstand the confederate pressure, and 
 their troops gave way. Several thou- 
 sand arms had been lost. On came the 
 
BATTLE OF GEJ TYSJtiUKU. 
 
 667 
 
568 
 
 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 confederates in a dark mass, across the 
 wheat field, over the stoue wall, and across 
 the ravine. At this moment, while the 
 fugitives were rushing through Crawford's 
 ranks, he ordered a charge. He was 
 drawn up in line of battle, and in column 
 of division. His men, with loud cheers, 
 rushed forward. Crawford himself rode to 
 the front, and, seizing the flag of the lead- 
 ing regiment, encouraged the men. They 
 dashed in; volley after volley was poured 
 into the <:i ufederate ranks. The federals 
 got ahead, an J drove the confederates back 
 across the ravine, over the stone wall, and 
 through the wheat field, retaking the 
 unionists' ground and an immense quantity 
 of arms. The left of the federal position 
 was saved by this charge, enabling them 
 to remain masters of the field. 
 
 A fit illustration of the sanguinary char- 
 acter of the afternoon struggle already de- 
 scribed, is that given by Mr. Whitelaw Reid, 
 one of the gifted correspondents of the Cin- 
 cinnati Gazette. Mr. Reid says that some 
 Massachusetts batteries Captain Bige- 
 low's, Captain PhilHps's, and two or three 
 more under Captain McGilvry, of Maine 
 were planted on the extreme left, ad- 
 vanced now well down to the Emmettsburg 
 road, with infantry in their front, the 
 first division of Sickles's corps. A little 
 after five, a fierce confederate charge drove 
 back the infantry and menaced the batter- 
 ies. Orders were sent to Bigelow on the 
 extreme left, to hold his position at every 
 \azard short of sheer annihilation, till a 
 couple more batteries could be brought to 
 bis support. Reserving his fire a little, 
 then with depressed guns opening with 
 double charges of grape and canister, he 
 smote and shattered, but could not break 
 the advancing line. His grape and canis- 
 ter became exhausted, and still, closing 
 grandly up over their slain, on they rushed. 
 He fell back on spherical case, and poured 
 this in at the shortest range. On, still 
 onward, came the artillery-defying line, 
 and still he held his position. They got 
 within six paces of the guns he fired 
 again. Once more, and he blew devoted 
 soldiers from their very muzzles. And, 
 
 still mindful of that solemn order, he held 
 his place ; they spring upon his carriages, 
 and shoot his horses ! And then, his 
 Yankee artillerists still about him, he 
 seized the guns by hand, and from the 
 very front of that line dragged two of them 
 off. The caissons were farther back five 
 out of the six are saved. That single com- 
 pany, in that half hour's fight, lost thirtj r - 
 three of its men, including every sergeant 
 it had, and the captain himself was 
 wounded. Yet it was the first time it was 
 ever under fire. So they fought along 
 that fiery line ! The confederates now 
 poured upon PhilHps's battery, and it, too, 
 was forced to drag off the pieces by hand 
 when the horses were shot down. From a 
 new position, it opened again ; and at last 
 the two re-enforcing batteries came up on 
 the gallop. An enfilading fire swept the 
 confederate line ; Sickles's gallant infantry 
 charged, the confederate line swept back 
 on a refluent tide the unionists regained 
 their lost ground, and every gun they had 
 just lost in this splendid fight. 
 
 Mr. Reid, as an eye witness, character- 
 ises the sanguinary struggle at four o'clock 
 as the great, desperate, and final charge. 
 The confederates seemed to have gathered 
 up all their strength and desperation for 
 one fierce, convulsive effort, that should 
 sweep over and wash out all resistance. 
 They swept up as before; the flower of 
 their army to the front victory staked 
 upon the issue. In some places, they lit- 
 erallj- lifted up and pushed back the union 
 lines; but, that terrible ' position ' of the 
 federals ! wherever they entered it, enfi- 
 lading fires from half a score of crests 
 swept away their columns like merest 
 chaff. Broken and hurled back, they 
 easily became prisoners; and on the center 
 and left, the last half hour brought more 
 prisoners than all the rest. So it was 
 along the whole line ; but it was on the 
 second corps that the flower of the confed- 
 erate army was concentrated ; it was there 
 that the heaviest shock beat upon, and 
 shook, and even sometimes crumbled, the 
 federal line. The federals had some shal- 
 low rifle-pits, with barricades of rails from 
 
BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 569 
 
 the fences. The confederate line, stretch- 
 ing away miles to the left, in magnificent 
 array, but strongest here, Pickett's splen- 
 did division of Longstreet's corps in front, 
 the best of A. P. Hill's veterans in support 
 came steadily, and as it seemed resist- 
 lessly, sweeping up. The federal skir- 
 mishers retired slowly from the Emmetts- 
 burg road, holding their ground tenaciously 
 to the last. The confederates reserved 
 their fire till they reached this same Em- 
 mettsburg road, then opened with a ter- 
 rific crash. From a hundred iron throats, 
 meantime, their artillery had been thun- 
 dering on the union barricades. Hancock 
 was wounded ; Gibbon succeeded to the 
 command approved soldier, and ready for 
 
 mere machine strength of their combined 
 action swept the conlederates on. The 
 federal thin line could fight, but it had not 
 weight enough to oppose to this momen- 
 tum. It was pushed behind the guns. 
 Right on came the confederates. They 
 were upon the guns were bayoneting the 
 gunners were waving their flags above 
 the federal pieces. But they had pene- 
 trated to the fatal point. A storm of 
 grape and canister tore its way from man 
 to man, and marked its track with corpses 
 straight down their line ! They had ex- 
 posed themselves to the enfilading fire of 
 the guns on the western slope of Cemetery 
 Hill ; that exposure sealed their fate. The 
 line reeled back disjointed already in 
 
 \ 
 
 the crisis. As the tempest of fire ap- 
 proached its height, he walked along the 
 line, and renewed his orders to the men to 
 reserve their fire. The confederates 
 three lines deep came steadily up. They 
 were in point-blank range. At last the 
 order came ! From thrice six thousand 
 guns, there came a sheet of smoky flame, 
 a crash, a rush of leaden death. The line 
 literally melted away ; hut there came the 
 second, resistless still. It had been the 
 unionists' supreme effort on the instant, 
 they were not equal to another. Up to 
 the rifle-pits, across them, over the barri- 
 cades the momentum of their charge, the 
 
 an instant in fragments. The union 
 troops were just behind the guns. They 
 leaped forward upon the disordered mass ; 
 but there was little need for fighting now. 
 A regiment threw down its arms, and, 
 with colors at its head, rushed ovei 1 and 
 surrendered. All along the field, smaller 
 detachments did the same. Webb's bri- 
 gade brought in eight hundred; Gibbon's 
 old division took fifteen stand of colors. 
 Over the fields, the escaped fragments of 
 the charging line fell back the battle 
 there was over. A single brigade, Har- 
 row's, came out with fifty-four less officers, 
 and seven hundred and ninety-three less 
 
570 
 
 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 men (the Seventh Michigan regiment was 
 f this brigade,) than it took in. So the 
 whole corps fought so too they fought 
 farther down the line. It was fruitless 
 sacrifice. They gathered up their broken 
 fragments, formed their lines, and slowly 
 marched away. It was not a rout, it was 
 a bitter, crushing defeat, 
 
 Among the individual instances of brav- 
 ery narrated of this terrible combat be- 
 tween the two great armies, that of Henry 
 Shaler, of Indianapolis, will bear repeti- 
 tion, for he seems to have more than 
 equaled the self-told mythical performance 
 of the Irishman who 'surrounded' a half- 
 dizen of the enemy and bagged them 
 plump. Shaler took mere prisoners in 
 this battle than any other man in the 
 army in all, twenty-five men, including 
 one lieutenant and eighteen privates at 
 one swoop. He took them by strategy of 
 the most undoubted kind ; that is, he sur- 
 rounded them, and they had to give up. 
 On the morning of the fourth, he went out 
 with his 'poncho' over his shoulders, so 
 that the confederates couldn't see his coat, 
 and thus they thought he was one of their 
 own men. He went up and told them to 
 lay down their arms and come and help 
 carry some wounded off the field ; they 
 did so. When he got them away from 
 their arms, he rode up to the lieutenant 
 and told him to give up his sword. The 
 lieutenant refused at first, but Shaler drew 
 his revolver, and the lieutenant yielded 
 without a shot, and the whole squad were 
 then escorted by their gallant captor into 
 camp. 
 
 The heroism of General Kilpatrick 
 like that of Couch, Geary, Buford, Birney, 
 Newton, Gregg, Mclntosh, Neil, and oth- 
 ers was conspicuous Irom first to last. 
 On the thirteenth, some nen days after the 
 close of the conflict, General Kilpatrick 
 was anxious to make an advance, but 
 could not obtain orders. Some of the 
 Pennsylvania militia having been placed 
 at his disposal, he thought he would try 
 one regiment under fire. The Philadel- 
 phia Blues were selected, and, accompa- 
 nied by the First Vermont cavalry, a dem- 
 
 onstration was made on the right the 
 confederates then oecupying a fortified 
 position. The militia were now deployed, 
 the general desiring them to move to the 
 crest of a knoll, where the bullets were 
 flying pretty lively. There was some hes- 
 itancy at first, whereupon a battle-flag pre- 
 sented to the division by the ladies of 
 Boonsboro' was sent to the front. Ser- 
 geant Judy, bearer of the flag, cried out 
 
 " This is General Kilpatrick' s battle- 
 flay ; jollow it ! " 
 
 The militia obeyed the summons 
 promptly, and fell some distance in front 
 of the line, and it was supposed for some 
 time that the enemy had captured the flag; 
 but at night, when Judy was brought in 
 on a litter, he proudly waved the battle- 
 flag. The novelty of being thus under 
 fire for the first time was keenly felt by 
 the militia. About the first man touched 
 had the top of his head grazed just close 
 enough to draw blood. He halted threw 
 down his musket truly an astonished 
 man ! One or two officers and a dozen or 
 more privates ran hurriedly to see what 
 the matter was. Running both hands over 
 his pate, and seeing blood, he exclaimed, 
 " A ball ! a ball ! " while the others stood 
 on agape with astonishment, until the 
 shrill voice of the general sounded in their 
 ears : " Move on there ! " 
 
 On the opening movement being made 
 to baffle Lee's march toward Pennsylva- 
 nia, the spirit which animated those who 
 had gone forth in defense of the American 
 Union "man's last, best hope, of free 
 government," was conspicuously mani- 
 fest. At a distance of fifteen miles from 
 Gettysburg, where the armies were mass- 
 ing, were first caught the murmurs of the 
 opening battle, and from that time the 
 scene was all enthusiasm among the weary, 
 foot-sore federals, who counted as nothing 
 all the pains of a march of nearly two hun- 
 dred miles, now that they were within 
 striking distance of the foe. Most of the 
 way, the ambulance train had been crowded 
 with both officers and men, weary, worn, 
 and haggard ; but the cannon's rattle, a* 
 it became more and more distinct, changed 
 
BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 571 
 
 them in a twinkling into new creatures. 
 The New Jersey brigade, in Sedgwick's 
 corps, was of this body. At about three 
 o'clock on the afternoon of July 3d, the 
 head of the column arrived on the battle- 
 ground. As it came to a halt, a poor fel- 
 
 8OLDIBRS' MONUMENT AT GETTYSBOBG. 
 
 low, who looked the very image of death, 
 hobbled out of the ambulance in which he 
 had been lying, and, shouldering his 
 musket, was just starting forward, when 
 the surgeon stopped him with 
 " Where are you going, sir ? " 
 " To the front, doctor," and the brave 
 fellow tried hard to stand firm and speak 
 boldly as he saluted the surgeon. 
 
 "To the front! What ! a man in your 
 condition ? Why, sir, you can't march 
 
 half a mile; you haven't the strength to 
 carry yourself, let alone your knapsack, 
 musket, and equipments. You must be 
 crazy, surely." 
 
 ' But, doctor, my division are in the 
 fight," (here he grasped the wheel of an 
 ambulance to support himself,) "and I have 
 a younger brother in my company. I 
 must go." 
 
 " But I am your surgeon, and I forbid 
 you. You have every symptom of ty- 
 phoid fever; a little over-exertion will kill 
 you." 
 
 "Well, doctor, if I must die, I would 
 rather die in the field, than in an ambu- 
 lance." 
 
 The doctor saw it was useless to debate 
 the point, and the soldier went as he de- 
 sired. But on the evening of the next 
 day he was buried where he fell for fall 
 he did his right arm blown off at the 
 elbow, and his forehead pierced by a minie 
 ball. 
 
 The impetuous bravery with -which the 
 confederate troops fought is illustrated by 
 the fact that every brigadier inPickett's di- 
 vision was killed or wounded ; out of twen- 
 ty-four regimental officers, only two escaped 
 unhurt ; the colonels of five Virginia reg- 
 iments were killed; the ninth Virginia 
 went in with two hundred and fifty men, 
 and came out with only thirty-eight. 
 These data show that the total casualties 
 of the confederate army, though never 
 officially published, must have been im- 
 mense greater, probably, than those of 
 the victorious. The latter, as given by 
 General Meade, were as follows: two 
 thousand and eight hundred and thirty- 
 four killed; thirteen thousand and seven 
 hundred and nine wounded; six thou- 
 sand and six hundred and forty-three 
 missing. The union army took forty- 
 one standards, nearly twenty-five thou- 
 sand small arms, and about fourteen 
 thousand prisoners. 
 
 So great was the joy throughout the 
 loyal states, as the tidings of victory 
 flashed across the wires, that, on the fore- 
 noon of July 4th, President Lincoln offi- 
 cially telegraphed as follows : 
 
572 
 
 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 "The President announces to the coun- 
 try that news from the Army of the Poto- 
 mac, up to 10 p. M. of the 3d, is such as to 
 cover that army with the highest honor ; 
 to promise a great success to the cause of 
 the Union, and to claim the condolence 
 
 of all for the many gallant fallen; and 
 that for this he especially desires that 
 on this day, He, whose will, not ours, 
 should ever be done, be everywhere re- 
 membered and reverenced with profound- 
 est gratitude." 
 
LXIX. 
 
 ORATORICAL CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN 
 ENGLAND, BY REV. H. W. BEECHER. 1863. 
 
 His Olympian Speeches, in Defiance of British Sentiment, in the Great Cities of the Kingdom. Hia 
 Eloquence Rises to the Very Crown of the Occasion. Superb Exhibition of Forensic Power in Liv- 
 erpool. He Wrestles, Single- Handed and Triumphantly, for Three Hours, with a Vast and Tumul- 
 tuous Mob in that City. Reception at Exeter Hall, London. Mr. Beecher's Tour Undertaken for His 
 Health. Reaches England, Homeward Bound. Civil Conflict Raging in America. Mr. Beecher 
 Urged to Speak on United States Affairs. Opening Speech in Manchester. Great Audience of 
 Seven Thousand. Attempts to Silence Him. Powerlessness of the Opposition Splendid Qualities 
 as an Orator Discussions in Glasgow and Edinburgh. Battle Waged by Mr. Beecher in Liverpool. 
 Violent Efforts to Gag Him. A Maddened Sea of Insult. Taunts, Curses, Hisses, Fury. 
 Stampings, Hootings, Tellings. Beecher's Pluck, and Good Humor. He Triumphs Over the Wild 
 Tempest A Spectacle Never Before Witnessed. Grand Closing Scene in the British Capital. 
 Vast and Excited Assembly. He Carries the House by Storm. Plaudits and Congratulations. 
 
 " A more remarkable embassy than any envoy who has represented us in Europe since Franklin pleaded Uie cause of the young Repub- 
 lic aithe Court of Versailles." TUB "ATLANTIC MONTHLY. 6 
 
 ECIDEDLY the most memorable oratorical success ever achieved by an Amer- 
 ican citizen abroad, in behalf of the name and honor of his country, was that 
 by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, in England 
 during the great conflict of arms then raging in 
 the United States. Leaving his great parish in 
 the city of Brooklyn, N. Y., in the summer of 
 1863, for a tour in Europe, with a view to the 
 restoration of his health, it was not until October 
 following, soon after reaching England, with his face set 
 homeward, that he was prevailed upon to address a public 
 audience, as the champion of the American Union, and de- 
 fender of the national government. 
 
 Beginning at Manchester, October 9th, Mr. Beecher de- 
 livered five great speeches in the great cities of the king- 
 dom Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Liverpool, and 
 London, each speech being devoted to some special train of 
 thought and argument bearing upon the issues involved in 
 the momentous contest ; and the whole series, taken together, 
 did more for the Union cause in Great Britain than all that 
 had before been said or written. Possessing the faculty, 
 beyond any other American orator, of combining close, 
 rapid, powerful, practical reasoning, with intense passion, his mind 
 always aglow with his subject, the effect of Mr. Beecher's speaking 
 
574 
 
 CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 is to kindle sympathy, even if it does not 
 flash conviction. It is this quality, ac- 
 cording to the opinion of those who are 
 best acquainted with Mr. Beecher's oratory, 
 which, combined with his marvelous power 
 of illustration marvelous alike for its 
 intense vividness and unerring pertinency 
 and his great flexibility, whereby Le 
 adapts himself completely to the exigency 
 of the instant, gives him a rare command 
 over a popular assemblage. 
 
 Free Trade Hall was the place selected 
 for Mr. Beecher's appearance in Man- 
 chester. Though capable of holding seven 
 thousand persons, the hall was densely 
 crowded, and the speaker received a wel- 
 come such as, in point of enthusiasm, had 
 rarely fell to the lot of any other man. 
 On this occasion, he gave a history of that 
 series of political movements, extending 
 through half a century, the logical and 
 inevitable end of which was open conflict 
 between the two opposing forces of free- 
 dom and slavery. There were in the 
 meeting a few hundred opponents who 
 frequently interrupted Mr. Beecher, but 
 these checks only served to show how 
 powerless was the opposition, and how 
 forcible was the impression made by the 
 speaker. His pointed remarks were fre- 
 quently greeted with rounds of applause, 
 and when, at the close of his address, he 
 read a telegram just received from Liver- 
 pool, that the " broad arrow " of the British 
 government had that day been placed upon 
 the suspected steam-rams in the Mersey, 
 the enthusiasm reached its climax. The 
 whole audience rose, vociferously cheering, 
 and waving hats and handkerchiefs. 
 
 Not to dwell upon the scenes character- 
 izing Mr. Beecher's efforts in Glasgow 
 and Edinburgh, it may be remarked that, 
 in Liverpool, he waged such a battle with 
 the vast and tumultuous throng assembled 
 there to gas* and stifle him, as, perhaps, 
 no other public speaker in the world could 
 have fought, in a strange land, and not 
 been utterly vanquished. He here, in this 
 great center of commercial and manufac- 
 turing interests, labored to show how 
 those interests are injured by slavery, 
 
 that the attempt to cover the fairest por- 
 tion of the earth with a slave population 
 that buys nothing, and a degraded white 
 population that buys next to nothing, 
 should array against it the sympathy of 
 I every true political economist and every 
 thoughtful and far-seeing manufacturer, as 
 tending to strike at the vital want of com- 
 merce, namely, not the want of cotton, but 
 the want of customers. Amidst the most 
 violent attempts to drown his voice and 
 shut his lips, Mr. Beecher remained 
 master of the platform, abundantly prov- 
 ing to the mob the truth of his asser- 
 tion, "I am born without moral fear. I 
 have expressed my views in any audience, 
 and it never cost me a struggle. I never 
 could help doing it." So, too, in answer 
 to the taunts and sarcasm of those who 
 wished ill to the Union and looked with 
 satisfaction upon the evidences of its ap- 
 proaching dismemberment, came the dec- 
 laration : 
 
 " Standing by my cradle, standing by 
 my hearth, standing by the altar of the 
 church, standing by all the places that 
 mark the name and memory of heroic men 
 who poured their blood and lives for prin- 
 ciple, I declare that in ten or twenty years 
 of war we will sacrifice everything we 
 have for principle. If the love of popular 
 liberty is dead in Great Britain, you will 
 not understand us ; but if the love of 
 liberty lives as it once lived, and has 
 worthy successors of those renowned men 
 that were our ancestors as much as yours, 
 and whose example and principles we 
 inherit to make fruitful as so much seed- 
 corn in a new and fertile land, then you 
 will understand our firm, invincible deter- 
 mination deep as the sea, firm as the 
 mountains, but calm as the heavens above 
 us to fight this war through at all hazards 
 and at every cost. " 
 
 Throughout all the tumultuous demon- 
 strations on the part of his Liverpool 
 audience, his pluck and good humor never 
 for a moment forsook him. His perfect 
 self-possession, his readiness, his jovial 
 wit, gave him the mastery in the fearful 
 odds against which he had to battle. 
 
CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 575 
 
 Another orator might have withered the 
 mob with invective, but he conquered them 
 with humor. He turned the laugh against 
 them. He parried their blows, and at the 
 same time struck home,- so that the recoil 
 made them wince in spite of their bravado. 
 It was a grand spectacle, in St. George's 
 Hall, Liverpool, when he struggled for 
 nearly three livelong hours against that 
 raging sea of insult, taunt, irony, imper- 
 tinent questioning, blackguardism, curses, 
 hisses, cat-calls, stampings, hootings, yell- 
 ings every possible manifestation of hate, 
 every possible form of disorder ; but this 
 strong-winged bird of the storm matched 
 his might against it now soaring up to 
 
 In the course of this great and exciting 
 discussion, the orator touched upon a point 
 or question frequently asked and honestly 
 entertained by those not acquainted with 
 the structure of the American government. 
 " It is said, ' Why not let the South go ? ' 
 [Hear, hear, and cheers.] ' Since they 
 won't be at peace with you. why do you 
 not let them separate from you ? ' Because 
 they would be less peaceable separated 
 than they are together. [Hear, hear.] 
 Oh, if the South only would go ! [Laugh- 
 ter.] They are determined to stay that 
 is the trouble. [Hear, hear.] We would 
 furnish free passage to every mother's son 
 of them, if they would go. [Laughter.] 
 
 REV. a. W. BEECHEK DEFENDING THE AMERICAN UNION, IN EXETER HALL, LONDON. 
 
 overcome it now sinking down to under- 
 mine it now dashing in its teeth now 
 half-choked in the gust of its fury, but 
 always moving onward, and in the end rid- 
 ing triumphant on the very crest of its 
 wildest billows. There was not a more 
 heroic achievement on any field of battle 
 during the Great American Conflict, than 
 the successful delivery of Mr. Beecher's 
 speech against the tempest of odds which 
 opposed it. This is the testimony which 
 the loyal American press universally bore 
 to the value of Mr. Beecher's efforts in 
 vindicating the national cause so courage- 
 ously and ably. 
 
 But we say, ' That territory is ours I ' 
 [Cheers.] Let them go, and leave the 
 nation its territory, and they will have our 
 unanimous consent. [Renewed cheers.] 
 But I do not wish to discuss this even in 
 in this ad captandutn way. I wish 
 because this seems to me the very marrow 
 of the matter I wish to ask you to stand 
 in our place for a little time, and see this 
 question as we see it, then afterwards 
 make up your judgment as you think best. 
 [Hear, hear.] And first, this war began 
 by the act of the South firing at that 
 old flag that had covered both sections 
 i with glory and protection. [Applause. "1 
 
576 
 
 CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 (Some gentleman on the platform here 
 offered Mr. Beecher a glass of water.) 
 No, thank you (said Mr. Beecher) ; I 
 want neither water nor lozenges. [Laugh- 
 ter.] Time, patience, and my own good 
 lungs, will make me heard. I expect to 
 be hoarse ; I am willing to be hoarse. I 
 think that if I might but bring the mother 
 aad the daughter heart to heart and hand 
 to hand [loud applause], I would be will- 
 ing to be silent for a twelvemonth in so 
 good a work as that. [Cheers.] The war 
 began under circumstances that obliged 
 the North to join issue in order to prevent 
 actual humiliation and subjugation. . . 
 . . And for the North to have lain down 
 like a spaniel to have given up the terri- 
 tory that every child in America is taught, 
 as every child in Britain is taught, to 
 regard as his sacred right and his trust 
 to have given that territory up without a 
 thought, without a blow, would have 
 marked the North to all eternity as craven 
 and mean beyond expression." [Loud 
 cheers and some hisses.] 
 
 Equally forcible and felicitous was the 
 manner in which Mr. Beecher met his oppo- 
 nents on another point. " But I hear," 
 said Mr. Beecher, " a loud protest against 
 war. [Hear, hear.] Ladies and gentle- 
 men, Mr. Chairman : There is a small 
 band in our country and in yours I wish 
 their number were quadrupled who have 
 borne a solemn and painful testimony 
 against all wars, under all circumstances ; 
 and although I differ with them on the 
 subject of defensive warfare, yet when 
 men that rebuked their own land, and all 
 lands, now rebuke us, though I cannot 
 accept their judgment, I bow with pro- 
 found respect to their consistency. [Hear, 
 hear, and cheers.] But excepting them, 
 I regard this British horror of the Ameri- 
 can war as something wonderful. [Re- 
 newed cheers and laughter.] Why, it is 
 a phenomenon in itself ! On what shore 
 has not the prow of your ships dashed ? 
 [Hear, hear.] What land is there with a 
 name and a people where your banner 
 has not led your soldiers ? [Hear, 
 hear.] And when the great resurrection 
 
 reveille shall sound, it will muster British 
 soldiers from every clime and people under 
 the whole heaven. [Cheers.] Ah, but it 
 is said this is a war against your own 
 blood. [Hear, hear.] How long is it 
 since you poured soldiers into Canada, and 
 let all your yards work night and day to 
 avenge the taking of two men put of the 
 Trent? [Loud applause.] Old England 
 shocked at a war of principle ! She gained 
 her glories in such a war. [Cheers.] 
 Old England ashamed of a war of princi- 
 ple ! Her national ensign symbolizes 
 her history the cross in a field of 
 blood. [Cheers.] And will you tell us 
 who inherit your blood, your ideas, and 
 your pluck [cheers] that we must not 
 fight ? " [Cheers.] 
 
 Exeter Hall, London, was the scene of 
 Mr. Beecher's last and, perhaps, greatest 
 oratorical effort, in defense of the Ameri- 
 can Union the undivided nationality of 
 the American Republic. This speech was 
 delivered under the auspices of the Eman- 
 cipation Society, October 20th, and the 
 meeting was one of the most enthusiastic 
 ever held in the English metropolis. The 
 admission was by tickets, the lowest 
 charge for which was one shilling, and for 
 the reserved seats, of which there were 
 four hundred, the charge was two shillings 
 and sixpence. More than an hour before 
 the time for the proceedings to commence, 
 the main entrance in the Strand was 
 besieged by crowds of persons anxious to 
 obtain egress, and, soon after the doors 
 were opened, the vast hall was filled to 
 suffocation, and thousands were outside 
 seeking but unable to obtain admission. 
 
 Outside, the scene was of a most extraor- 
 dinary description. The speech, as adver- 
 tised, was to begin at seven o'clock, and it 
 was announced that the doors would be 
 opened at half-past six. The crowd, how- 
 ever, began to assemble as early as five 
 o'clock, and, before six, it became so dense 
 and numerous, as completely to block up 
 not only the footway but the carriage-way 
 of the Strand, and the committee of man- 
 agement determined, therefore, to throw 
 open the doors at once. The rush that 
 
CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 >77 
 
 took place was of the most tremendous 
 character, and the hall, in every available 
 part, became filled to overflowing, in a 
 few minutes. But, notwithstanding this, 
 no perceptible diminution was made in the 
 crowd outside, and, at halt-past six, there 
 were thousands of well-dressed persons 
 struggling to get in, despite the placards 
 exhibited, announcing the hall to be 
 "quite full." 
 
 The policemen and hall-keepers were 
 powerless to contend against this immense 
 crowd, who ultimately filled the spacious 
 corridors and staircases leading to the hall, 
 still leaving a prodigious multitude both 
 in the Strand and Burleigh street. At ten 
 minutes before seven o'clock, Mr. Scott, 
 the city chamberlain, and the chairman of 
 the meeting, accompanied by a large body 
 of the committee of the Emancipation 
 Society, arrived, but were unable to make 
 their way through the crowd, and a mes- 
 senger was dispatched to the Bow street 
 police station, for an extra body of police. 
 About thirty of the reserve men were 
 immediately sent, and these, aided by the 
 men already on duty, at last succeeded in 
 forcing a passage for the chairman and his 
 friends. Mr. Beecher at this time arrived, 
 but was himself unable to gain admit- 
 tance to the hall until a quarter of an hour 
 after the time appointed for the commence- 
 ment of his address. The reverend gen- 
 tleman bore his detention in the crowd 
 with great good humor, and was received 
 with a perfect ovation, the crowd pressing 
 forward in all directions to shake hands 
 with him. He was at last fairly carried 
 into the hall on the shoulders of thepolice- 
 men, and the doors of the hall were at 
 once closed and guarded by a body of 
 police, who distinctly announced that no 
 more persons would be admitted.' whether 
 holding tickets or not. This had the effect 
 of thinning to some extent the throng out- 
 side, but thousands yet remained there, 
 eager to seize any chance for admission 
 that arose. 
 
 At a quarter-past seven o'clock, a tre- 
 mendous burst of cheering from within 
 the building, plainly proclaimed that Mr. 
 37 
 
 Beecher had made his appearance on the 
 platform. The cheering was taken up by 
 the outsiders, and re-echoed again and 
 again. The bulk of the crowd had now 
 congregated in Burleigh street, which was 
 completely filled, and loud cries were raised 
 for some members of the emancipation 
 committee to address them, but the call 
 was not responded to. Several impromptu 
 speakers, mounted upon the shoulders of 
 some workingmen and addressed the peo- 
 ple in favor of the policy of the federal 
 government, their remarks being received 
 with loud cheering from the large majority 
 of those present. 
 
 One or two speakers raised their voices 
 in opposition to the views which had been 
 advocated by Mr. Beecher, but they were 
 speedily dislodged from their position by 
 the mass of the crowd, whose sympathies 
 were thus unmistakably exhibited. Every 
 burst of cheering that resounded from 
 within the hall was taken up and as 
 heartily responded to by those outside. 
 This scene continued without intermission, 
 until the close of the meeting. When 
 Mr. Beecher and his friends issued from 
 the hall, they were again received with 
 loud cheers ; and, a call being made for a 
 cheer for Abraham Lincoln, a response 
 went up from thousands of voices, like the 
 noise of many waters, deep answering unto 
 deep. A strong body of police were sta- 
 tioned in the Strand and Burleigh street, 
 but no breach of the peace occurred calling 
 for their interference. 
 
 In this London speech, Mr. Beecher 
 gave a passing resume of his discussions 
 of the American question during the last 
 few weeks ; At Manchester, he attempted 
 to give the history of the external polit- 
 ical movements for fifty years past, so far 
 as was necessary to elucidate the fact that 
 the war was only an overt form of the con- 
 test between liberty and slavery which had 
 been going on politically for half a cen- 
 tury. At Glasgow, he undertook to show 
 that the condition of work and labor ne- 
 cessitated by any profitable system of 
 slavery was, that it brought labor into 
 contempt, affixing to it the badge of deg- 
 
578 
 
 CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 radation, and that the struggle to ex- 
 tend servile labor across the American 
 continent interested every free working- 
 man on the face of the globe the southern 
 cause being the natural enemy of free 
 labor and the laborer all over the world. 
 In Edinburgh, he endeavored to sketch 
 how, out of separate colonies and states, 
 intensely jealous of their individual sover- 
 eignty, there grew up a nation, and how 
 in that nation of the United States there 
 grew up two distinct and antagonistic 
 systems of development, striving for the 
 possession of government and for the con- 
 trol of the national policy, in which the 
 north gained the control, and that the 
 south joined the Union simply and only 
 because it believed the government would 
 be in the hands of men who would give 
 their whole influence against the cause of 
 freedom. In Liverpool, he labored to 
 show that slavery was, in the long run, 
 hostile to commerce and manufactures all 
 the world over, as it was to every other 
 interest of human society ; that a slave 
 nation must be a poor customer, buying 
 the smallest quantity and the poorest 
 goods, at the lowest profit, and that the 
 interest of every manufacturing nation 
 was to promote freedom, intelligence, and 
 wealth, among all nations ; and that the 
 attempt to cover the fairest portion of the 
 earth with a slave population which buys 
 nothing, and a degraded white population 
 which buys next to nothing, should array 
 every political economist, every far-seeing 
 manufacturer, against it, as striking at the 
 vital interest of the manufacturer, not by 
 want of cotton, but by want of customers. 
 From beginning to ending, the orator's 
 address was a clear, forcible, and thoroughly 
 earnest exposition of the principles under- 
 lying the great conflict, the course of 
 policy that led to it, and the tremendous 
 issues at stake in its decision. Many of 
 the points specially dwelt upon such as 
 the legal position of slavery in the South 
 under the constitution, as a state and not 
 a Union question, a matter of local juris- 
 diction, with which the national govern- 
 ment had nothing to do were presented 
 
 by Mr. Beecher with such happy illustra- 
 tions, accurate logic, and fervent zeal, as to 
 render them more broadly intelligible to 
 the popular mind than ever the}' had been 
 made before, and showed the orator to be 
 not only a practiced and powerful speaker, 
 but remarkably skilled in the management 
 of large audiences, so that, by a happy 
 mixture of sterling sense, good humor, and 
 downright earnestness, combined with a 
 rare talent for effective retort, he suc- 
 ceeded in carrying his entire audience, foes 
 as well as friends, along with him. 
 
 As an instance of the speaker's last 
 named faculty, nothing could be more 
 apposite than his plump and dexterous 
 retort to an indignation cry from some one 
 in the audience about the feting of the 
 Russian naval officers at New York, Mr. 
 Beecher's sarcasm at the attentions paid 
 by the English to Mr. Mason, the southern 
 commissioner, being in his best vein. "A 
 gentleman asks me," said Mr. Beecher, 
 "to say a word about the Russians. 
 [Hear, hear.] Well, what about the 
 Russians in New York harbor ? [Cheers.] 
 The fact is, that that is a little piece of 
 coquetry. Don't you know that when a 
 woman thinks her suitor is not attentive 
 enough, she picks out another, and flirts 
 with him in her lover's face ? Well, 
 New York is in the same way flirting with 
 Russia at this moment, but she has her 
 eye on Russia, you may depend. [Hear.] 
 When I hear men say, this is a piece of 
 national folly, which is not becoming in a 
 people reputed wise and under the solemn 
 circumstances in which America is now 
 placed ; when I hear it said, that while 
 Russia is actually engaged in treading 
 down the liberties of Poland [Hear, 
 hear,] it is not even decent of a free 
 country like the Northern States of Amer- 
 ica to make believe to flirt with her 
 [Hear, hear, and " That is true,"] 
 well, I think so too, and now you know 
 how we felt when you flinrted with Mason 
 at your Lord Mayors banquet I " 
 
 Mr. Beecher's justification of the presi- 
 dent's proclamation of emancipation, as at 
 once a war necessity and a philanthropic 
 
CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 579 
 
 act, told with admirable effect upon his 
 hearers. He said : " The great conflict 
 between the north and the south when we 
 began this war was, which should control 
 the government of the territories slave 
 institutions, or free institutions. That 
 was the conflict. It was not emancipation 
 or no emancipation the government had 
 no business with the question. The only 
 thing the government could join issue on 
 was, shall the national policy be free or 
 slave. ... It was for this the north 
 went to war. It produced emancipation ; 
 but she went to war to save national insti- 
 tutions, to save territories, to save those 
 laws which, if allowed to act through a 
 series of years, would infallibly first cir- 
 cumscribe, then suffocate, and finally de- 
 stroy slavery. This is the reason why 
 
 MB. BEECHEK'S CHURCH, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK. 
 
 that truly honest, just, and conscientious 
 magistrate, Mr. Lincoln [the remainder 
 of the sentence was lost amid tumultuous 
 cheering, the people rising and waving 
 their hats]. How did the matter pass to 
 a conflict with the south, in place of a 
 direct attack upon the institution of 
 slavery itself ? Because, in an ill advised 
 hour, according to the foreshadowing of the 
 wisest men of the south, they mixed the 
 national government and national life with 
 the institution of slavery, and obliged the 
 people and obliged the president, who was 
 under oath to defend the constitution and 
 the national government, to take their 
 choice between the safety of the life of the 
 government itself and slavery. We were 
 
 content to wait the issue, as one of policy, 
 but when they threw drown the gauntlet, 
 and said that slavery shall be established 
 and extended, we could not do any other- 
 wise than accept the challenge. [Cheers.] 
 The police have no right to interfere with 
 you so long as you keep the law, but when 
 you violate the law they have a right. 
 And so in constitutional government, it 
 has no right to attack slavery when slavery 
 is merely a state institution ; but when 
 that state institution comes out of its own 
 limits and attacks other states, it becomes 
 a national enemy. [Cheers.] But it is 
 said the president issued his proclamation 
 for political effect, and not from humanity. 
 [Hear, hear.] "Why, the act of issuing 
 the proclamation was political, but the 
 disposition to do it was not. [Cheers.] 
 Mr. Lincoln is an officer of the state, and 
 in the presidential chair has no more right 
 to follow his private feelings, than any 
 one of your judges has a right to follow his 
 private feelings on the bench. A judge is 
 bound to administer the law, but when he 
 sees that a rigid administration of the law 
 goes with purity of justice, with human- 
 ity, and with pity, he is all the more glad, 
 because his private feelings go with his 
 public duties." 
 
 But the most striking and important 
 parts of Mr. Beecher's address were his 
 noble and earnest efforts to promote, to the 
 utmost of his ability, that supreme inter- 
 national object of his oratorical efforts a 
 good understanding between England and 
 America, in which all the higher interests 
 of civilization, freedom, and progress, are 
 so directly involved. In discussing this 
 great and vital question, he rose to a pitch 
 of moral enthusiasm and elevation which 
 stranger, as he was, in the midst of his 
 country's reputed enemies, and standing, 
 as he did, the solitary spokesman for that 
 country, in the presence of a surging and 
 excited multitude presented a spectacle 
 of moral and forensic sublimity, rarely 
 witnessed in any country. 
 
 As the sequel of his series of public 
 addresses in the various cities of the king- 
 dom, this at London completed the dis- 
 
680 
 
 CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA'S CAUSE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 cussion of the whole round of points in 
 American affairs which the British found 
 it most difficult to understand. That the 
 address excited a prodigious degree of 
 attention in Great Britain was evident on 
 all sides. Its great effectiveness con- 
 sisted in its being an American's present- 
 ation of the American question, and never 
 before did an orator make such triumph- 
 ant use of his opportunity. There had 
 been symptoms of an attempt to pack the 
 meeting if possible to fill the hall with 
 an opposition which should prevent a 
 hearing for the speaker, or at least disturb 
 
 him by unmannerly interruption? as at 
 Liverpool. To this end, the walls of the 
 city were placarded with enormous posters, 
 designed to excite ill feeling against Mr. 
 Beecher, and hand-bills of a similar char- 
 acter were distributed to all who entered 
 the hall. But all such effort to disparage 
 the speaker with his audience was entirely 
 overwhelmed, chiefly by the hearty enthu- 
 siasm with which he was greeted by the 
 great majority, while his good nature, fine 
 tact, resoluteness, and eat 7 address, quite 
 conquered the remaining malcontents and 
 reduced them to silence. 
 
LXX. 
 
 COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA, CAPTAIN SEMMES, 
 AND THE KEARSARGE, CAPTAIN WINSLOW, 
 OFF CHERBOURG. 1864. 
 
 The Alabama is Sunk after an Hour's Engagement, in Sight of the Two Great Maritime Powers of 
 Europe. Semmes Throws His Sword Away, Jumps Overboard, and Escapes. Relative Equality, in 
 Size and Armament, of the Two Vessels The Previous Destructive Career of the Alabama against 
 Northern Commerce Causeless Raid on Marine Property. Fault in the Law of Nations. British 
 Origin of the Alabama Her Unmistakable Character. Peculiar Model and Equipment Adapted 
 to Destroy, Fight, or Run. Adroit Shipment of Stores and Guns. Heady for a Start. All Hands 
 Mustered Aft. Semmes Reads Aloud His Commission. Cheers for Davis, Semmes, etc. Salute 
 Fired : Hoisting the Flag. A Long Cruise Terrible Ravages. Puts in, at Cherbourg, France. 
 The United States Ship Kearsarge on His Track. Semmes Boldly Offers to Fight. Preliminary 
 Maneuvers of the Ships Seven Circles Round Each Other. Semmes's Rapid and Furious Fire. 
 Superior Gunnery of the Kearsarge. Its Fatal Effect on the Alabama. Incidents of this Renowned 
 Fight. 
 
 " Sink, bum, and destroy everything which flies the ensign of the so-called United States." SZMMES'S COMMISSION FBOH JEFFERSON 
 DAVIS. 
 
 JUSTICE, reason, and law, will eventually unite, in 
 all the states of Christendom, in exempting the 
 merchant vessels of belligerent nations, engaged ia 
 the transport of goods on the high seas, not contra- 
 band of war,from capture by privateers. Had this 
 wise and equitable principle prevailed during the 
 four years of the American Civil Conflict, the 
 commerce of the United States would not have been 
 swept from the ocean by a few predatory cruisers 
 like the Sumter, the Florida, the Georgia, and 
 chief of all the Alabama, the latter commanded by 
 C;iptimi E;i])li:icl Scmmcs. i'onunly :m oflirci- of 
 
 MERCHANT VESSEL ncl5S5?THE ALABAMA, the United States navy, and a man of acknowledged 
 professional abilities. No feature in the devastations which accompanied that sanguin- 
 ary conflict appears now, at this remote view of the period when it occurred, more 
 causeless and deplorable than this indiscriminate destruction of merchant shipping, the 
 hapless crews of which were composed largely of natives of other countries, and there- 
 fore in'no wise involved in or responsible for the war. 
 
 On this account, the devastations of the Alabama so famous for its successful career 
 as " the scourge of the seas," as well as for the grave complications between England 
 and America to which her career subsequently gave rise, and especially for the sum- 
 
582 COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEARSARGE. 
 
 mary doom which at last overtook her in 
 an engagement with the United States 
 gun-boat Kearsarge, commanded by Capt. 
 John A. Winslow, U. S. N., will here 
 form the subject of a few pages. The 
 engagement which at last sealed her doom, 
 took place Sunday forenoon, June 19, 
 1864, off Cherbourg, in the English chan- 
 nel, in plain sight of the two great mari- 
 time powers of Europe. 
 
 Originally known as the "290," this 
 vessel was built by Mr. Laird, the eminent 
 ship-builder, at Liverpool, or Birkenhead, 
 and presented the following peculiarities 
 in her make, appointments, and manage- 
 ment : Of about twelve hundred tons bur- 
 den ; draught some fourteen feet ; engines 
 by Laird and Sons, Birkenhead, 1862. She 
 was a wooden vessel, propelled by a screw, 
 copper bottom, two hundred and ten feet 
 length on water-line, rather narrow, painted 
 black outside and drab inside ; had a round 
 stern, billet head, very little shear, flush 
 deck fore and aft ; a bridge forward of the 
 smoke-stack carried two large black boats 
 on cranes amidships forward of the main 
 rigging; two black quarter-boats between 
 the main and rnizzen masts, one small 
 black boat over the stern, on cranes ; the 
 spare spars, on a gallows between the 
 bridge and foremast, showed above the 
 rail. 
 
 In respect to armament, she carried three 
 long thirty-two pounders on a side, and 
 was pierced for two more amidships ; had 
 a one hundred pound rifled pivot gun for- 
 ward of the bridge, and a sixty-eight pound 
 pivot on the main deck ; also, a pivot bow- 
 gun, and a pivot stern chaser. This was 
 her armament when she began her career, 
 her guns being of the well-known Blakely 
 pattern, manufactured in Liverpool, in 
 1862. 
 
 She was bark-rigged; had very long, 
 bright lower masts, and black mast-heads ; 
 yards black, long yard-arms, short poles 
 about one to two feet with small dog- 
 vanes on each, and a pendant to the main ; 
 studding-sail booms on the fore and main, 
 and wire rigging. Carried on her fore- 
 mast a square foresail ; large try-sail with 
 
 two reefs, and a bonnet top-sail with two 
 reefs, top-gallant sail and royal. On the 
 mizzen-mast a very large spanker and a 
 short three-cornered gaff top-sail ; a fore 
 and foretop-mast stay-sail and jib; no 
 stay-sail to the main or mizzen mast bent 
 or royal yards aloft. On the mainmast a 
 large try-sail with two reefs and a bonnet. 
 No square main-sail bent, top-sail two 
 reefs, top-gallant sail and royal. 
 
 Of her appearance and management at 
 sea, she was rated, in respect to speed, at 
 thirteen knots under canvas and fifteen 
 under steam ; could get steam in twenty 
 minutes, but seldom used it except in a 
 chase or emergency. Had all national 
 flags, but usually set the St. George's 
 cross on approaching a vessel. Her com- 
 plement of men varied from one hundred 
 to considerably more than that number. 
 A man was kept at the mast-head from 
 daylight until sunset. Her sails were of 
 hemp canvas, made very reaching; the 
 top-sails had twenty cloths on the head 
 and thirty on the foot. The general 
 appearance of the hull and sails was de- 
 cidedly English. She was generally un- 
 der two top-sails, fore and main try-sails ; 
 fore and foretop-mast stay-sails; some- 
 times top-gallant sails and jib, but seldom 
 any sails on the mizzen except while in 
 charge of a vessel. She was very slow in 
 stays; generally wore ship. Being built 
 expressly for a privateer, she was adapted, 
 in all respects, to destroy, fight, or run, 
 according as the character of her opponent 
 might be. 
 
 She left Birkenhead, towards the end of 
 July, ostensibly on a trial trip, having on 
 board a large party of ladies and gentle- 
 men. On getting out of the Mersey, this 
 party was sent back in a tug-boat, and the 
 290, as had been previously arranged, 
 neglected to return to Birkenhead, but 
 steamed direct for the island in the Atlan- 
 tic where she was to take in her guns, 
 ammunition, etc. 
 
 On leaving England, the privateer had 
 a crew of ninety-three men, for the most 
 part belonging to the English naval re- 
 serve, all being trained gunners, and the 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEARSARGE. 583 
 
 majority old men-of-war's men. She was 
 temporarily commanded by Captain Bul- 
 lock, who had under him the proper com- 
 plement of commissioned and petty officers. 
 Captain Bullock having learned that the 
 Tuscarora, a United States war vessel, lay 
 in wait for him in St. George's channel, 
 took his departure by what is known as 
 the north channel, thus eluding pursuit; 
 though, even had he been intercepted, the 
 Tuscarora would have found herself in a 
 dilemma, as the escaped vessel had a set 
 of English papers, and other presumptive 
 proofs of her neutrality, in the face of 
 which, interference might have been diffi- 
 cult. At this time, she carried no guns, 
 nor any warlike stores, but consisted 
 
 merely of the hull, spars, and engines, with 
 sufficient coal and other requisites to ena- 
 ble her to reach her destination, which was 
 Tarissa, one of the Azores, or Western 
 Islands, belonging to Portugal. This des- 
 tination the vessel duly reached, after a 
 favorable run of eight days, nothing of any 
 moment having occurred to break the usual 
 monotony of a sea voyage. 
 
 Some time before her departure from 
 the Mersey, a large bark left the Thames, 
 clearing for Demerara, West Indies, 
 to meet the privateer at Tarissa, and there 
 transfer to the latter vessel the guns and 
 stores destined for her, and which formed 
 the cargo of the bark. Some reason re- 
 quired to be assigned to the Portuguese 
 authorities for the 290 having anchored in 
 
 this way, in their bay, and accordingly the 
 excuse furnished them was that her en- 
 gines had broken down. This plea was 
 accepted as valid, and, during the week 
 that intervened betwixt the arrival at 
 Tarissa of the privateer and the bark, the 
 crew of the former vessel were engaged 
 ostensibly in repairing her engines, but 
 really in preparing her to .receive her guns, 
 etc. About the lapse of a week from the 
 arrival of the 290, the bark above men- 
 tioned sailed in and anchored, her captain 
 alleging as a reason to the Portuguese offi- 
 cials that his vessel had sprung a leak, 
 which would require to be repaired ere she 
 could resume her voyage ; and on this 
 understanding, the Portuguese at once 
 placed her in quarantine, which in 
 the Azores lasts three days. 
 
 On the day after the bark's arrival, 
 Captain Bullock, being anxious to 
 get his guns on board, hauled along- 
 side of the bark, and erected a pair 
 of large shears to effect the transfer 
 of her cargo from the bark's hold to 
 the privateer's deck. This brought 
 off the Portuguese in a fury, that their 
 rules should have been broken by the 
 290 having dared to communicate 
 with a vessel that had still quarantine 
 time to run, and they angrily de- 
 manded to know the reason why 
 their regulations had been infringed. 
 They were told that the bark was in a 
 sinking state, and the erection of the 
 shears was accounted for by urging the 
 necessity of an immediate transfer, tempo- 
 rarily, of her cargo, that the leak might 
 be reached and stopped ; and Captain Bul- 
 lock finally succeeded in bearing down all 
 opposition by feigning to get into a pas- 
 sion, saying that he was doing no more for 
 the bark than any Englishman would do 
 for another in distress. The Portuguese 
 were content to leave the vessel, and the 
 transhipment proceeded without further 
 hindrance from those on shore. 
 
 About the afternoon of the second day, 
 and when the transfer was nearly complete, 
 the British screw-steamer Bahama came 
 in, having on board Captain Semmes and 
 
584. COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEARSAEGE. 
 
 other late officers of the privateer Sumter 
 (cut short in her career), besides the re- 
 mainder of the 290's armament, and an 
 addition of twenty or more men to her 
 crew. On the Bahama's arrival and an- 
 chorage, on a somewhat similar pretext to 
 those given by her two predecessors, the 
 Portuguese apparently lost all patience, 
 and peremptorily insisted on the instant de- 
 parture of all three vessels. The Bahama 
 at once communicated with the 290, and 
 having handed over to the latter everything 
 destined for her, got up steam and left, 
 followed by the 290, towing the now empty 
 bark. 
 
 All three went, not to sea, as they had 
 been ordered to do, but to Angra Bay a 
 bay in the same island, and only a few 
 leagues distant from Tarissa Roads. Here 
 they remained unmolested until noon of 
 the following day, Sunday, when, for the 
 second time, all three vessels were ordered 
 out of Portuguese waters. All the 290's 
 guns being now mounted, and the vessel 
 otherwise ready for a cruise, the order was 
 obeyed, and all took their departure, the 
 bark as before in tow of the 290, which, 
 having convoyed her well out to sea, cast 
 her off, and, with a favoring breeze, she 
 steered for Cardiff, to bring out a further 
 supply of coal for the 290's future use. 
 
 The privateer and the Bahama now 
 steamed around the island, and Captain 
 Semmes, coming out of his cabin, ordered 
 his first lieutenant to muster the crew aft. 
 This having been done, and all the officers 
 assembled on the poop in their full uni- 
 form, namely, the confederate gray frock- 
 coat and trousers, Captain Semmes en- 
 joined silence, and read his commission as 
 post-captain in the confederate navy. It 
 was a document duly attested at Rich- 
 mond, and bore the signature of "Jeff 
 Davis, President Confederate States of 
 America." He then opened and read his 
 sealed orders from Mr. Davis, directing 
 him to assume command of the confederate 
 sloop-of-war Alabama, hitherto known as 
 the 290, in which, having been duly com- 
 missioned, he was to hoist the confederate 
 ensign and pennant, and " sink, burn, and 
 
 destroy everything which flew the ensign 
 of the so-called United States of America." 
 
 Captain Semmes then ordered the first 
 lieutenant to fire a gun and run up the 
 confederate flag and pennant. The gun 
 was fired by the second lieutenant, and, 
 ere its smoke had cleared away, the stars 
 and bars of the southern confederacy were 
 floating on the breeze, and the ceremony 
 was complete, Semmes declaring the 
 vessel, henceforth to be known as the Ala- 
 bama, to have been duly commissioned. 
 
 The next step was formally to engage 
 the crew to serve and fight under the 
 southern flag, which having been done, the 
 men were addressed by their captain in a 
 stirring speech, in the course of which he 
 said there were only four vessels in the 
 United States navy that were more than a 
 match for the Alabama ; but, he added, in 
 an English-built heart of oak as the Ala- 
 bama was, and surrounded as he then saw 
 himself by British hearts of oak, he 
 wouldn't strike his newly-hoisted flag for 
 anyone of the four. This elicited a hearty 
 burst of applause for Davis, the confeder- 
 acy, and Sernmes, and, when it had sub- 
 sided, the captain said that the Bahama 
 was on the point of leaving for England, 
 and intimated that if any of his crew 
 repented of the step they had taken, they 
 were free to return in her. This alterna- 
 tive none would accept, and Captain Bul- 
 lock and a few of the other officers who 
 had taken the 290 from England to the 
 Azores finding their occupation gone, 
 through the arrival of those who had held 
 similar appointments in the Sumter, hav- 
 ing gone on board the Bahama, that vessel 
 and the Alabama, amid hearty cheering 
 from the crews of both, parted company, 
 the former pursuing her course back to 
 England, and the latter making chase for 
 an American whaler, which she soon cap- 
 tured and burned. 
 
 This was the first prize taken by 
 Semmes, in that long and successful career 
 in the South Atlantic and Indian oceans, 
 during which he inflicted almost untold 
 damage upon the merchant marine service 
 of the United States, and successfully 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEARSARGE. 
 
 585 
 
 eluding the most diligent pursuit and the 
 best-laid plans of capture. 
 
 Nor is it possible to conjecture how 
 much longer this prosperous career of the 
 Alabama would have continued, but for the 
 fortuitous circumstance which suddenly 
 arose, and which as suddenly terminated 
 in her comnlete destruction. 
 
 Making good her escape from the United 
 States naval vessels at the Capo of Good 
 Hope and Straits of Sunda, and after com- 
 mitting sundry devastations, the Alabama 
 returned westward, in June, 1864, and 
 took refuge under the guns of Fort Du 
 Hornet, off Cherbourg, a French port. At 
 the same time, the United States gun-boat 
 Kearsarge, Captain Wiuslow, was lying at 
 
 Flushing, Holland, when a telegram came 
 from Mr. Dayton, the American ambassa- 
 dor at Paris, stating that the Alabama was 
 at Cherbourg. The Kearsarge immedi- 
 ately put to sea, and arrived at Cherbourg 
 in quick time, taking the Alabama quite 
 by surprise by so sudden an appearance on 
 her track. Through the consular agent, a 
 sort of challenge was received by Captain 
 Winslow from Captain Semmes, the latter 
 stating that he would like to measure the 
 strength of his vessel with that of the 
 Kearsarge, that if the latter remained 
 off the port he would come out and fight 
 her, and that he would not detain the 
 vessel long. 
 
 After cruising off the port for five 
 
 days, until Sunday, June 19th, at about 
 half-past ten o'clock, in the forenoon, Cap- 
 tain Wiuslow descried the starry ensign 
 of the Alabama floating in the breeze, as 
 she carne boldly out of the western en- 
 trance, accompanied by the French iron^ 
 clad steamer Couronne and the English 
 yacht Deerhound, the latter having on 
 board its owner, Mr. Lancaster a member 
 of the Royal Yacht Club together with 
 his wife and family. The Couronne re- 
 tired into port, after seeing the combatants 
 outside of French waters. Captain Wins- 
 low had previously had an interview with 
 the admiral of Cherbourg, assuring him 
 that, in the event of an action occurring 
 with the Alabama, the position of the 
 vessels should be so far oft' shore that no 
 question would be advanced about the line 
 of jurisdiction. When the Alabama was 
 first descried, the Kearsargo was about 
 three miles from the entrance of the har- 
 bor, and, to make certain that none of the 
 maneuvers of battle took place within the 
 French waters, as well as to draw the Ala- 
 bama so far off that, if disabled, she could 
 not flee in to the shore for protection from 
 her French allies or sympathizers, the 
 Kearsarge stood to seaward until she had 
 attained the distance of about seven miles 
 from the shore. 
 
 At ten minutes before eleven, the Kear- 
 sargo came quick about and approached 
 the Alabama. When within about three- 
 quarters of a mile, the Alabama opened 
 her guns with her starboard broadside. 
 The Kearsarge made no reply for some 
 minutes, but ranged up nearer, and then 
 opened her starboard battery, fighting six 
 guns, and leaving only one thirty-two 
 pounder idle. The Alabama fought seven 
 guns, working them with the greatest 
 rapidity, sending shot and shell in a con- 
 stant stream over her adversary. Both 
 vessels used their starboard batteries, the 
 two being maneuvered in a circle about 
 each other at a distance of from five hun- 
 dred to one thousand yards. Seven com- 
 plete circles were made during the action, 
 which lasted a little over one hour. At 
 the last of the action, when the Alabama 
 
586 COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEARSARGE. 
 
 would have made off, she was near five 
 miles from the shore ; and, had the action 
 continued from the first in parallel lines, 
 with her head in shore, the line of juris- 
 diction would, no doubt, have been reached. 
 
 From the first, the firing of the Ala- 
 bama was rapid and wild; toward the 
 close of the action, the firing became bet- 
 ter. The Kearsarge gunners, who had 
 been cautioned against firing rapidly, with- 
 out direct aim, were much more deliberate ; 
 and the instructions given to point the 
 heavy guns below rather than above the 
 water-line, and clear the deck with lighter 
 ones, was fully observed. 
 
 Captain Winslow had endeavored, with 
 a port helm, to close in with the Alabama ; 
 but it was not until just before the close 
 of the action, that he was in position to 
 use grape. This was avoided, however, by 
 the Alabama's surrender. The effect of 
 the training of the Kearsarge's men was 
 evident; nearly every shot from their 
 guns told fearfully on the Alabama, and on 
 the seventh rotation in the circular track, 
 she winded, setting fore-trysail and two 
 jibs, with head in shore. Her speed was 
 now retarded, and by winding her port 
 broadside was presented to the Kearsarge, 
 with only two guns bearing, not having 
 been able to shift over but one. Captain 
 Winslow now saw that she was at his 
 mercy, and a few more guns brought down 
 her flag, though it was difficult to ascer- 
 tain whether it had been hauled down 6r 
 shot away ; but a white flag having been 
 displayed over the stern, the fire of the 
 Kearsarge was reserved. 
 
 Two minutes had not more than elapsed 
 before the Alabama again opened fire on 
 the Kearsarge, with the two guns on the 
 port side. This drew Captain Winslow's 
 fire again, and the Kearsarge was immedi- 
 ately steamed ahead and laid across her 
 bows for raking. The white flag was still 
 flying, and the Kearsarge's fire was again 
 reserved. Shortly after this, her boats 
 were to be seen lowering, and an officer in 
 one of them came alongside and stated that 
 the ship had surrendered, and was fast 
 sinking. In twenty minutes from this 
 
 time the Alabama went down, her main- 
 mast, which had been shot, breaking near 
 the head as she sank, and her bow rising 
 high out of the water, as her stern rapidly 
 settled. 
 
 At precisely twenty-four minutes past 
 twelve, twenty minutes after her furnace 
 fires went out, the Alabama being on the 
 point of making her final plunge, the word 
 went forth for every man to take care of 
 himself, which they did by jumping over- 
 board, Semmes throwing his sword into the 
 ocean and then taking a swim himself, 
 making for the Deerhound, which rescued 
 him and thirteen other officers. None of 
 the men who had been killed were left to 
 sink; of the twenty-one wounded, some 
 were in the quarter-boats with the boys, 
 and others on board the Kearsarge ; the 
 rest of the crew were all afloat, and some 
 of them drowning. Every available boat 
 of both vessels was now employed in their 
 rescue ; and besides these, the Deerhound 
 and a French pilot-boat shared in this 
 humane service. In this way, one hun- 
 dred and nineteen were saved, the greater 
 number by the boats of the Keursarge. 
 Semmes's three waist-boats had been torn 
 to shreds in the fight, and he had left only 
 two quarter-boats ; these were filled with 
 th3 wounded and with boys unable to 
 swim. 
 
 The chances of this conflict, estimated 
 from the relative strength and speed of 
 the two vessels, were nearly equally bal- 
 anced. Thus, the length over all, of the 
 Alabama, was two hundred and twenty 
 feet, and of the Kearsarge, two hundred 
 and fourteen ; the Alabama's lengtb on 
 water-line, two hundred and ten feet, and 
 of the Kearsarge, one hundred and ninety- 
 eight; the Alabama's beam was thirty-two 
 feet, being one less than the Kearsarge's ; 
 depth of the Alabama, seventeen feet, or 
 one more than the Kearsarge; the two 
 engines of the Alabama were of three hun- 
 dred horse-power each, while the horse- 
 power of the Kearsarge was four hundred. 
 Tonnage of the Alabama, eleven hundred 
 and fifty ; of the Kearsarge, one thousand 
 and thirty. 
 
COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA AND KEAKSARGE. 
 
 The Complete armament of the Alabama 
 consisted of one seven-inch Blakely rifle, 
 one eight-Inch smooth bore sixty-eight 
 pounder, and six thirty-two pounders. 
 The armament of the Kearsarge consisted 
 of two eleven-inch smooth bore guns, one 
 thirty-pounder rifle, and four thirty^two 
 pounders. In the combat, the Kearsarge 
 used but five guns ; the Alabama, seven. 
 The Kearsarge had one hundred and sixty- 
 
 from the Alabama struck these chains, and 
 fell harmlessly into the water. The Ala- 
 bama, it was estimated, discharged three 
 hundred and seventy or more shot and 
 shell, but inflicted no serious damage on 
 the Kearsarge ; some thirteen or fourteen 
 took effect in and about the hull, and six- 
 teen or seventeen about the masts and 
 rigging. The Kearsarge fired one hun- 
 dred and seventy-three projectiles, oi 
 
 NAVAL CONTEST BETWEEN THE KEARSARGE AND ALABAMA. 
 
 two men, including officers ; the Alabama, 
 about one hundred and fifty. 
 
 For five days the Alabama had been in 
 preparation. She had taken in three hun- 
 dred and fifty tons of coal, which brought 
 her down in the water. The Kearsarge 
 had only one hundred and twenty tons in; 
 but, as an offset to this, her sheet-chains 
 were stowed outside, stopped up and down, 
 as an additional preventive and protection 
 to her more empty bunkers. Two shots 
 
 which one alone killed and wounded eight- 
 een of the Alabama's men, and disabled 
 one of her guns. 
 
 On board the Kearsarge, three men 
 were badly wounded, one of them Wil- 
 liam Gowin, of Michigan mortally. 
 Though struck quite early in the action, 
 by a fragment of a shell, which badly shat- 
 tered his leg, near the knee-pan, Gowin 
 refused assistance, concealed the extent of 
 his injury, and dragged himself from the 
 
688 COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA 1 AND KEARSARGE. 
 
 after pivot gun to the fore-hatch, unwilling 
 to take any one from his station. During 
 the progress of the action, he comforted 
 his suffering comrades by assuring them 
 that " Victory is ours ! " Whenever the 
 guns' crews cheered at the successful effect 
 of their shot, Gowin waved his hat over 
 his head and joined in the shout. When 
 brought -. t length to the surgeon, he ap- 
 peared with a smile on his face, though 
 suffering acutely from his injury. He 
 said, " It is all right, and I am satisfied, 
 for we are whipping the Alabama. I wil- 
 lingly will lose my leg or life, if it is nec- 
 essary." In the hospital, he was calmly 
 resigned to his fate, repeating again and 
 again his willingness to die, since his ship 
 had won a glorious victory. 
 
 The following conversation with one of 
 the crew of the Alabama, as given in the 
 London "Cornhill Magazine," furnishes 
 some interesting memorabilia concerning 
 this remarkable encounter : 
 
 "But I thought you had been in the 
 oo"federate navy." 
 
 "I was," said Aleck. "I was with 
 Semmes everywhere he went. I was in 
 the naval brigade and blockade-running, 
 and on the Alabama all the while he com- 
 manded her." 
 
 " But not when she sank, I suppose." 
 
 " Well, I was, and was picked up with 
 him by the Deerhound." 
 
 "It was a pretty sharp fight, wasn't 
 it?" 
 
 " It was that ! " 
 
 " I suppose it was the eleven-inch shells 
 that did her business ? " 
 
 "Oh, no; we never had any chance. 
 
 We had no gunners to compare with the 
 Kearsarge's. Our gunners fired by rou- 
 tine, and when they had the gun loaded, 
 fired it off blind. They never changed the 
 elevation of their guns all through the 
 fight, and the Kearsarge was working up 
 to. us all the while, taking advantage of 
 every time she was hid by smoke to work 
 a little nearer, and then her gunners took 
 aim for every shot." 
 
 " Then it isn't true that the Alabama 
 tried to board the Kearsarge ? " 
 
 "No, sir! She did her best to get 
 away from her from the time the fight 
 commenced. We knew well that if we 
 got in range of her Dahlgren howitzers 
 she would sink us in ten minutes." 
 
 ' But don't you believe that Semmes 
 supposed he would whip the Kearsarge 
 when he went out to fight her ? " 
 
 "No; he was bullied into it, and took 
 good care to leave all his valuables on 
 shore, and had a life preserver on through 
 the fight. I saw him put it on, and I 
 thought if it was wise in him it wouldn't 
 be foolish in me, and I put on one too. 
 When Semmes saw that the ship was 
 going down, he told us all to swirn who 
 could, and was one of the first to jump 
 into the water, and we all made for the 
 Deerhound. I was a long way ahead of 
 Semmes, and, when I came up to the 
 Deerhound's boat, they asked me if I was 
 Semmes, before they would take me in. I 
 said I wasn't, and then they asked me 
 what I was on the Alabama. Said I, No 
 matter what I was on the Alabama, I shall 
 be a dead man soon if you don't take me 
 in." 
 
LXXI. 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGTJT'S ACHIEVEMENTS AT NEW OR- 
 LEANS IN 1862, AND AT MOBILE BAT IN 1864 ; AND 
 ADMIRAL PORTER'S CROWNING- VICTORY 
 IN 1865, AT FORT FISHER. 1864. 
 
 His Astonishing Feat of Running Past the Confederate Batteries Fierce and Sanguinary Contest 
 between the Admiral's Flagship, the Hartford, and Admiral Buchanan's Monster Ram, the Ten- 
 nessee. The Latter Proves Herself, for a Time, a Match for the Whole Union Fleet Farragut'a 
 Overwhelming Victory. Farragut Pressed to Join the South. His Unswerving Fidelity to the Old 
 Flag. High Trust Committed to Him. Sailing of His Great Fleet. Bold and Successful Plan of 
 Battle. Admiral Porter's Splendid Services. Forts Jackson and St. Philip Wrecked. New Orleans 
 Again Under the United States Flag. Another Theater of Naval Operations. Forts, Rams, Iron- 
 Clade, etc., to Fight Powerful Build of the Tennessee. Makes for Her Antagonist at Full Speed- 
 Intended Running Down of the Hartford. Farragut's Masterly Maneuvers. Unexpected Feature in 
 His Tactics. Deadly Contact of the Various Craft Tremendous Cannonade. The " Glory " and 
 Horrors of War. Stubborn Bravery of the Great Ram. Crippled at Last: The White Flag. The 
 Stars and Stripes on Her Staff Buchanan Yields His Sword. 
 
 * Admiral for admiral flagship for flagship I'll fight him 1 " FAEBAOUT, OK THE APPROACH or THE TKKBESSKE. 
 
 EAES before the breaking out of the civil war between the national govern- 
 _^f^= ment and the Southern states, in the spring of 1861, the name of David G. 
 Farragut was one of the most illustrious on the roll of the United States 
 
 Navy, for those sterling qualities, both as a 
 man and officer, which command univers&l 
 respect. Having in mind, therefore, his South- 
 ern birth, and his presumed sympathy with 
 the disunion movement for a Southern confed- 
 eracy, he was invited by those representing the 
 latter cause to join his fortune to theirs. He 
 promptly declined. The effort to change hia 
 purpose was repeated. He was urged by every 
 consideration that it was supposed could influ- 
 ence his action, to side with his native south ; 
 he still refused. The men who made these 
 proposals well knew Farragut. They knew 
 him better than his own government then did, 
 knew the lion-like qualities that slumbered 
 beneath his modest and habitually retiring 
 demeanor, and the achievements of which he 
 was capable when the latent powers of the 
 man should be roused to active energy. As a 
 last effort to win him over, they offered him 
 any position which he should be pleased to 
 FAB BA OUT-S riAcniiiiF "HAKxrottD." name. This mercenary assault upon his ley 
 
590 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 alty was more than his nature could endure, 
 and, with a sudden and sailor-like burst of 
 indignation, he replied, as he pointed to 
 the emblem of the republic, which floated 
 near him, 
 
 "Gentlemen, your efforts are useless. 
 I tell you I would see every man of you 
 , before I would raise my arm against 
 that flag ! " 
 
 That flag he nobly upheld in more than 
 one fierce conflict, during the ensuing 
 four years, conferring the brightest and 
 widest luster on his country's renown, 
 and sharing, with his eminent colleagues, 
 Porter, Foote, Dupont, Gillmore, Golds- 
 borough, Bailey, Boggs, Worden, Wins- 
 low, and others, the honors of a grateful 
 country. 
 
 Before presenting the narrative of his 
 superb achievements in Mobile harbor, in 
 1864, some account of the brilliant and 
 terrible operations on the Mississippi, in 
 the spring of 1862, will be interesting. 
 Knowing the qualifications of Farragut, 
 the government put him at the head of 
 the great naval expedition which, in con- 
 junction with General Butler's army, was 
 to undertake the capture of New Orleans. 
 This task he prosecuted in a manner 
 which fully justified the confidence reposed 
 in his indomitable heroism and splendid 
 executive abilities, and the prize obtained 
 was one of the richest and most important 
 ever presented by a victorious chieftain to 
 a grateful and admiring country. 
 
 It was on the 17th of April, 1862, that 
 the mortar fleet of Commodore Porter 
 one of the bravest captains that ever trod 
 a man-of-war's deck began the bombard- 
 ment of Forts Jackson and St. Philip, 
 and, on the 24th, Commodore Farragut, 
 with his entire fleet, ran past the forts, 
 encountering a fire almost unparalleled in 
 severity, a fleet of gun-boats, including 
 several iron-clads, fire-rafts, obstructions 
 and torpedoes innumerable. The mortar 
 fleet rained down shells on Fort Jackson, 
 to try and keep the men from the guns, 
 whilst the steamers of the mortar fleet 
 poured in shrapnel upon the water-battery 
 commanding the approach, at a short dis- 
 
 tance, keeping them comparatively quiet. 
 The squadron was formed in three lines to 
 pass the forts, the divisions being led, 
 respectively, by Farragut, Bailey, and 
 Bell. 
 
 Perfect success attended the flag-officer's 
 boldly executed plan of battle. Fort Jack- 
 son became a perfect wreck ; everything in 
 the shape of a building in and about it 
 was burned up by the mortar shells, and 
 over eighteen hundred shells fell in the 
 work proper, to say nothing of those which 
 burst over and went around. It was an 
 exciting scene when, on the morning of 
 the 24th, that signal " to advance " waa 
 thrown out from the flag-ship. The Ca- 
 yuga led on the column. They were dis- 
 covered at the boom, and a little beyond 
 both forts opened fire. When close up 
 with St. Philip, Bailey opened with grape 
 and canister, still steering on ; and after 
 passing this line of fire, he encountered 
 the "Montgomery flotilla," consisting of 
 eighteen gun-boats, including the ram Ma- 
 nassas, and iron-battery Louisiana. This 
 was a moment of anxietj^, as no supporting 
 ship was in sight. By skillful steering, 
 however, their attempts to butt and board 
 were avoidod, and after forcing three of 
 them to surrender, aid came very oppor- 
 tunely from the Varuna, Captain Boggs, 
 and the Oneitla, Captain Lee. 
 
 The Cayuga received most of the first 
 fire, but was ot severely damaged. On 
 her falling baAk, the flag-ship Hartford 
 took her place. The latter had only two 
 guns which were placed on the top-gal- 
 lant forecastle *hat could bear on the 
 enemy until within half a mile. The 
 Hartford now sheem.1 off, and gave forth 
 a most terrible fire. The Pensacola ran 
 up after a while, and dealt with the star- 
 board battery, and in a few minutes the 
 Brooklyn ranged up and did gallant 
 service. The passing of Forts Jackson 
 and St. Philip, Farragut describes as one 
 of the most awful sights and events he 
 ever witnessed. The smoke was so dense 
 that it was only now and then anything 
 could be seen but the flash of the cannon 
 and the fire-ships or rafts, one of which 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 591 
 
 was pushed down upon the Hartford by 
 the ram Manassas. In his effort to avoid 
 this, Farragut ran his ship on shore, and 
 then the fire-raft was pushed alongside, 
 the ship in a moment being one blaze all 
 along the port side, half-way up to the 
 main and mizzen tops. But, by adroit 
 management, the flames were extinguished, 
 and the Hartford backed off and got clear 
 of the raft. But all this time she was 
 pouring shells into the forts, and they into 
 her. At length the fire slackened, the 
 
 then sent on beard of her, but she was 
 riddled and deserted, and after a while she 
 drifted down the stream, full of water, 
 the last of eleven that the union army had 
 destroyed. The larger ram, at Fort Jack- 
 son, was subsequently blown up. On the 
 28th, General Butler landed above Fort 
 St. Philip, under the guns of the Missis- 
 sippi and the Kineo. 
 
 So desperate was the proposed attempt 
 to run past Forts Jackson and St. Philip 
 regarded at the time, that some French 
 
 f OOTE 
 
 smoke cleared off, and the forts had been 
 passed. Here and there was a confeder- 
 ate gun-boat on fire, trying to make their 
 escape, but they were fired into and rid- 
 dled and soon became wrecks. The Mis- 
 sissippi and the Manassas made a set at 
 each other at full speed, and when they 
 were within thirty or forty yards, the ram 
 dodged the Mississippi and ran on shore, 
 when the latter poured her broadside into 
 her, knocked away her smoke-stack, and 
 
 and English officers, who had been to New 
 Orleans and inspected the fortifications, 
 pronounced such an undertaking abso- 
 lutely insane. Nor were they alone in 
 their military opinion of its rashness and 
 impossibility. It is related that when 
 that brave veteran, Commodore Goldsbor- 
 ough, first heard the news of Farragut's 
 exploit, communicated to him by a news- 
 paper correspondent who boarded the 
 Minnesota at Fortress Monroe, while OP 
 
692 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 his way north with dispatches, some- 
 thing like the following conversation took 
 place : 
 
 "Commodore," said the correspondent, 
 " I have the pleasure o informing you 
 that Commodore Farragut has run past 
 Forts Philip and Jackson with his fleet, 
 and taken New Orleans." 
 
 " Run past the batteries ? " exclaimed 
 Commodore Goldsborough. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " It's not true, sir it's a he ! It 
 couldn't be done." 
 
 A blunt and sailor-like demand for the 
 unconditional surrender of the city was 
 made upon Mayor Monroe, a demand 
 which, of course, he was in no condition 
 to resist ; and it was not long before the 
 venerable national flag was floating over 
 the city hall, the mint, and the custom- 
 house, and, at the same time, all flags 
 emblematic of any other sovereignty than 
 that of the United States were instantly 
 removed, and never reappeared. 
 
 It was in the early part of August, 
 1864, however, that the country was elec- 
 trified by that signal achievement by Far- 
 ragut, in Mobile Bay, which placed him in 
 the very foremost rank among the naval 
 heroes of modern times. Guarded at its 
 entrance by two imposing fortifications, of 
 immense strength, the bay also floated at 
 this time a formidable naval fleet, under the 
 command of Admiral Buchanan, one of 
 the ablest officers in the confederate serv- 
 ice. For a long time, Farragut watched 
 for his opportunity, and it came at last, 
 under circumstances the most favorable, 
 as the result proved, for union success. 
 
 From the official reports, and the vari- 
 ous accounts furnished by the reporters 
 for the press, the following sketch of this 
 celebrated achievement is prepared. For 
 some months, Farragut now holding the 
 rank of Rear-Admiral had commanded the 
 United States blockading fleet off Mobile, 
 and it was with some impatience that he 
 awaited the means necessary to justify 
 him in moving up and attacking the 
 defenses of the city. Knowing the disad- 
 vantage of attacking iron-cased vessels 
 
 with wooden ones, and that, too, in the 
 face and under the guns of heavy fortresses, 
 without a co-operating land force, he de- 
 ferred the movement until those essential 
 helps were provided, though holding him- 
 self in readiness to meet, at any time, the 
 fleet of Buchanan, should it venture out. 
 
 In the summer, Farragut found himself 
 in command of four iron-clads and four- 
 teen wooden ships-of-war, aided by a small 
 land force under Gen. Gordon Granger. 
 On the morning of August 5th, therefore, 
 all things being ready, he went up the 
 bay, passing between Forts Morgan and 
 Gaines, and encountering the formidable 
 confederate ram Tennessee, and also the 
 gun-boats of the enemy, Selma, Morgan, 
 and Gaines. The attacking fleet was 
 under way by quarter before six in the 
 morning, in the following order : The 
 Brooklyn, with the Octorara on her port 
 side ; Hartford, with the Metacomet ; 
 Richmond, with the Port Royal ; Lacka- 
 wanna, with the Seminole ; Monongahela, 
 with theTecumseh ; Ossipee, with the Itas- 
 co ; and the Oneida, with the Galena. On 
 the starboard of the fleet was the proper 
 position of the monitors or iron-clads. 
 The wind was light from the south-west, 
 and the sky cloudy, with very little sun. 
 Fort Morgan opened upon them at ten 
 minutes past seven, and soon after this 
 the action became lively. As they steamed 
 up the main ship channel, there was some 
 difficulty ahead, and the Hartford passed 
 on ahead of the Brooklyn. At twenty min- 
 utes before eight, the Tecumseh was struck 
 by a torpedo and sunk, going down very 
 rapidly, and carrying down with her all 
 the officers and crew, with the exception 
 of the pilot and eight or ten men, who 
 were saved by a boat r jnt from the Meta- 
 comet. 
 
 The Hartford had passed the forts before 
 eight o'clock, and, finding himself raked 
 by the confederate gun-boats, Farragut 
 ordered the Metacomet to cast off and go 
 in pursuit of them, one of which, the 
 Selma, she succeeded in capturing. All 
 the vessels had passed the forts by half- 
 past eight, but the confederate ram 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 593 
 
 Tennessee was still apparently uninjured, 
 in the rear of the union vessels. A signal 
 was at once made to all the fleet to turn 
 again and attack the ram, not only with 
 guns, but to run her down at full speed. 
 The Monongahela was the first that struck 
 her, but did not succeed in disabling her. 
 The Lackawanna also struck her, but inef- 
 fectually. The flag-ship gave her a severe 
 shock with her bow, and as she passed 
 poured into her a whole port broadside of 
 solid nine-inch shot and thirteen pounds 
 of powder, at a distance of not more than 
 twelve feet. The iron-clads were closing 
 on her, and the Hartford and the rest of 
 the fleet were bearing down upon her, 
 when, at ten o'clock, she surrendered. 
 The rest of the confederate fleet, namely, 
 the Morgan and the Gaines, succeeded in 
 getting back under the protection of Fort 
 Morgan. This terminated the action of 
 the day Admiral Buchanan was himself 
 badly wounded with a compound fracture 
 of the leg. 
 
 On the following day, one of the iron- 
 clads shelled Fort Gaines, and with such 
 effect, that Colonel Anderson, the com- 
 mander, sent a communication to Farra- 
 gut, offering to surrender. General Gran- 
 ger, commanding the military forces, was 
 sent for, and the terms of capitulation 
 were signed by the respective parties on 
 board of the Hartford. From this time 
 onward, movements were in progress for 
 capturing Fort Morgan, and, on the 22d 
 of August, at day dawn, a bombardment 
 was opened from the shore batteries, the 
 monitors and ships inside, and the vessels 
 outside the bay. At six o'clock in the 
 morning, August 23d, a white flag was 
 displayed by the confederates, and, at two 
 o'clock in the afternoon, the fort was un- 
 conditionally surrendered to the navy and 
 army of the United States. Fort Powell 
 had been already attacked on the night of 
 the fifth, and blown up. 
 
 With what spirit the fierce and sanguin- 
 inary conflict between the Tennessee and 
 Hartford was carried on, may be judged 
 from the fact, that, when it was reported 
 to Farragut that the monster was bear- 
 3b 
 
 ing down upon him, he hastened on deck 
 with the remark 
 
 "He is after me ! let him come on if it 
 must be so ; admiral for admiral -flag- 
 ship for flag-ship Pll fight him! " 
 
 The Tennessee was close at hand, and 
 coming with all her speed directly at the 
 Hartford, evidently with the intention of 
 running her down. Farragut mounted to 
 the maintop and surveyed his ground, 
 arranging hastily his plan of battle. This 
 settled quietly in his own mind, he awaited 
 the approach of the monster. Perfect 
 quiet prevailed on board the Hartford ; 
 not a gun was fired ; no crew was to be 
 seen ; her broadside lay plumply exposed 
 to the tremendous blow the Tennessee was 
 hastening to give. But, suddenly, there 
 was a change ! 
 
 When the monster had approached near 
 enough to answer the purpose which Far- 
 ragut had in view, the helm of the Hart- 
 ford was put hard s port, her machinery 
 started, she described a segment of a circle, 
 and, just as Buchanan had thought to 
 strike her squarely amidship and cut her 
 in two, as he was capable of doing, the 
 towering brow of the noble old ship struck 
 him a tremendous blow on his port quarter 
 forward, that knocked every man aboard 
 his craft off his feet. The force of the 
 collision checked the headway of both ves- 
 sels. The blow given by the Hartford 
 was a glancing one, and the two vessels 
 came up broadside to broadside. At this 
 moment, a full broadside from the Hart- 
 ford was let go at her antagonist, but it 
 was like throwing rubber balls against a 
 brick wall, nine-inch solid sine though 
 they were, and fired from the muzzles of 
 her guns scarcely twelve feet distant. 
 Simultaneously, Buchanan also discharged 
 his broadside of four Brookes's rifles, which 
 passed completely through the Hartford, 
 and expended their force in the water 
 beyond. 
 
 The Tennessee immediately put on 
 steam again, and started to try her strength 
 with some other of the wooden vessels. 
 The Brooklyn lay nearest, and for that 
 ship she headed. Here she was met with 
 
594 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 almost precisely the same reception as 
 with the Hartford. Instead of butting 
 she received a butt both vessels came 
 together, broadside to broadside ; both 
 broadsides were discharged, and the ram 
 went on her way to try another, and 
 another, and all of them, but with no 
 better success. 
 
 She now started to run back through 
 the fleet, but here a new combination 
 awaited her. The monitors had come up l 
 the appearance of which seemed for a 
 moment to disconcert the monster. From 
 the first, he had shown a wholesome dread 
 
 he signaled to the whole fleet. The little 
 monitor Manhattan appeared directly in 
 front of the ram, to head him off. The 
 rest of the fleet formed a circle about the 
 monster, and all commenced paying him 
 their heaviest compliments. It was a ter- 
 rible fire every ball that struck the union 
 vessels did execution, making great holes 
 in their sides and reddening their decks 
 with blood ; but every shot that struck the 
 Tennessee glanced away like a rubber ball. 
 To meet the exigency at this critical state 
 of affairs, Farragut's vessels were put in 
 motion, describing a circle about the mon- 
 
 OKION NAVAL VICTORY, IN MOBILK BAY. 
 
 of them, and by skillful maneuvering and 
 his greater speed had managed to avoid 
 them. Now they hammered him to the 
 utmost of their ability. The three had 
 managed each to get a position in a differ- 
 ent direction from each other, and which- 
 ever way the ram turned he met these 
 ugly and invincible foes. At first he was 
 shy, and seemed irresolute as to what 
 course to pursue, but finally seemed deter- 
 mined to get out of the bad scrape by run- 
 ning through the fleet back to the friendly 
 protection of Fort Morgan. 
 
 Now, then, Admiral Farragut's fine 
 tactics developed themselves, and which 
 
 ster, the sloops and monitors being directed 
 to ram her every time they came around, 
 which was done with deadly effect. Each 
 vessel chased its leader about, throwing a 
 broadside at the enemy at every opportun- 
 ity, and at every chance getting a ball a) 
 her. 
 
 In this way the plucky fellow was ter 
 ribly used. Every time one of the sloops 
 came on to the Tennessee, the concussion 
 was such as to throw the crew of the mon- 
 ster off their feet. The frequency with 
 which she was thus rammed, and the con- 
 tinuous artillery fire that was rained upon 
 her, so demoralized her men, that thej 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 595 
 
 are said to have begged to surrender, fear- 
 ing, at every new shock, that they would 
 be sent to the bottom. The course pur- 
 sued by the vessels was cuch that the ram 
 was unable to get range upon any of them 
 so as to run them down, thus compelling 
 the ram to remain passive. Or, if she 
 attempted to escape the tormentors, an 
 unlocked for enemy would come and strike 
 her on the quarter, and throw her out of 
 her course. During this melee, the Man- 
 hattan got one good shot in directly at the 
 ram's broadside. The huge ball of iron 
 struck fairly at the lower angle of the 
 heavy casemates and penetrated into the 
 inside, spending its force in the effort. 
 This was the only shot that ever passed 
 through her iron. Against such odds in 
 number, such cannonading and punching 
 and entanglement, the ram could not con- 
 tinue ; and so the formidable craft her 
 smoke-stack shot away, her steering chains 
 gone, several of her port-shutters so jam- 
 med by the shot th.at they could no f , be 
 opened, and one of them battered to 
 fragments, with the Chickasaw boring 
 away at her stern, and four other great 
 vessels coming at her full speed finally 
 succumbed, after a fight of somewhat more 
 than an hour. 
 
 On its being reported to Admiral Far- 
 ragut that the Tennessee had duly sur- 
 rendered, and that Admiral Buchanan 
 was wounded, he sent a staff officer off to 
 receive the confederate admiral's sword. 
 Some one asked Farragut if he would not 
 go off himself and see Buchanan. The 
 former merely replied, "No, sir, he is my 
 enemy." Subsequently, when the staff 
 officer returned, with Buchanan's sword, 
 it was represented to the admiral that 
 Buchanan had expressed a wish to see 
 him. " Well, sir, he shan't see me ! " 
 replied the old Salamander. Then, look- 
 ing with most concentrated expression of 
 countenance upon the bloody decks of his 
 ship, he added 
 
 " I suppose he would be friends ; but 
 with these brave men, my comrades, man- 
 gled, dying and dead about me, and, 
 looking upon the destruction caused 
 
 in the fleet, 1 can only cons' rt< 5r him an 
 enemy." 
 
 On the staff officer getting on board, 
 Admiral Buchanan was found to be severely 
 wounded in the leg. He yielded with a 
 very bad grace in fact, it was said that, 
 after receiving his wound, he gave orders 
 to his next in command to continue the 
 fight as long as there was a man left ; and 
 then, when he found he could do no more, 
 to run the vessel ashore and blow her up. 
 But there was no alternative the ram 
 must be surrendered ; and this was done. 
 The stars and stripes were hoisted upon 
 the staff of the magnificent ram truly 
 one of the most powerful and perfectly 
 constructed of her class greeted, as they 
 went up, by the hearty and long-continued 
 cheers of the whole fleet. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the devotion of 
 Admiral Farragut's men to their com- 
 mander. Thus, after the Hartford had 
 hauled off from her fierce assault upon the 
 Tennessee, and as she was again pointed 
 fair for another blow, and thunderingly 
 going down upon her to dash into her a 
 second time, suddenly, to the surprise of 
 all, the Hartford was herself tremendously 
 struck by one of the heaviest union vessels 
 which was also coming down upon the con- 
 federate monster, and it was thought for a 
 brief moment, so fearful was the blow, 
 that she must go down. Immediately, 
 and high above the din of battle, hoarse, 
 anxious voices were heard crying 
 
 " Tho admiral I the admiral ! save the 
 admiral! Get the admiral out of the 
 ship!" 
 
 The brave men utterly forgot them- 
 selves thought not a moment of their 
 own safety, but only of their glorious old 
 admiral. Nothing, certainly, could better 
 illustrate the attachment and devotion of 
 the whole squadron for their admiral than 
 this. When they themselves were in 
 imminent peril of death, they only cared 
 for him ! Finding the vessel would float, 
 notwithstanding the possible serious re- 
 sults ultimately, the brave old admiral 
 turned to his gallant fleet-captain with the 
 order 
 
596 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 " Go on with speed ! Ram her again ! " 
 
 Onward the Hartford sped, determined 
 to ' do and die,' if need be ; but, just before 
 she reached her, the white flag of surren- 
 der was hoisted above the discomfited 
 Tennessee, and soon all the victory, over 
 one of the bravest of foes, was with Far- 
 ragut and his noble men. 
 
 A little incident in this contest may 
 also be cited here, as illustrating his high 
 personal qualities as a man and officer, 
 exhibiting, too, as it does, one of the 
 secrets of his courage and self-command, 
 no matter what the stress or pressure of 
 circumstances around him: 
 
 "Admiral," said one of his officers, the 
 night before the battle, " won't you con- 
 sent to give Jack a glass of grog in the 
 morning not enough to make him drunk, 
 but just enough to make him fight cheer- 
 fully?" 
 
 " Well," replied the admiral, " I have 
 been to sea considerable, and have seen a 
 battle or two, but I have never found that 
 I wanted rum to enable me to do my 
 duty. I will order two cups of good coffee 
 to each man, at two o'clock, and at eight 
 o'clock I will pipe all hands to breakfast 
 in Mobile Bay." 
 
 The descriptions of this great naval 
 action usually represent Admiral Farra- 
 gut as having tied himself among the rig- 
 ging, or at the mast-head, of his ship, and 
 there observing the battle and giving his 
 directions. Concerning this, he was on a 
 subsequent occasion inquired of by one of 
 the gentle sex, as follows : 
 
 "Admiral," said the lady, " do tell me if 
 it was true, as they said, that you were 
 lashed to the mast, down at Mobile Bay ? " 
 
 "Ah ! " said the admiral, good natur- 
 edly, "I'll tell you all about that. You 
 know that in a fight the smoke of the guns 
 lies on the water, and, naturally, I would 
 want to see over it, to know what was 
 going on. Well, I would jump upon a 
 box so high " (indicating with his 
 hand) ; then I would get up a little 
 higher ; and by-and-by I got up to where 
 they said. I suppose I was two hours get- 
 ting as high as that. I had a little rope 
 
 that I lashed around me, just to keep from 
 falling, in case I should get hurt. Every 
 one, you know, is liable to get hurt in a 
 fight." 
 
 Up to the time of the surrender of Fort 
 Morgan, the union loss in all was one ship 
 sunk by a torpedo, one burned through 
 infraction of orders, and three hundred 
 and thirty men killed and wounded, half 
 of whom were killed by drowning or the 
 fire of the enemy. On the other hand, 
 the unionists took about fifteen hundred 
 prisoners, captured the two best vessels of 
 the confederates, forced them to burn the 
 gun-boat Gaines, and drove the rest of 
 their fleet beyond. Three forts, with 
 one hundred guns of heavy caliber, with all 
 their material, were unconditionally sur- 
 rendered to the victors. The United 
 States steamer Oneida suffered more than 
 any other vessel. 
 
 The ram Tennessee varied somewhat in 
 form from the grim old Merrimac, Bu- 
 chanan's first monster. The Tennessee's 
 armor consisted of two and a half inch 
 iron, in bars eight inches wide, crossing 
 each other, and bolted down with one and 
 three-quarter inch bolts, making five inches 
 of solid iron. This again was backed by 
 two feet of solid oak throughout the entire 
 portion of the boat above the water-line, 
 and extending some feet even below that. 
 From her forward casemates forward, in- 
 cluding her pilot-house, an additional inch 
 of iron was given her, making six inches 
 of plating, and an additional foot, making 
 three feet of wooden backing, at this part 
 of the boat. What may be called her gun- 
 room occupied about two-thirds of her 
 length, and was constructed with a flat 
 top, composed of two and a half by eight- 
 inch iron bars, crossed and bolted together, 
 forming a close lattice-work above her 
 gunners, and affording ventilation while 
 in action. Her ports, two on either side, 
 and onb fore and aft, were closed by 
 means of iron shutters, which revolved 
 upon a pivot in the center of one side, 
 and were worked by means of a cog-wheel 
 on the inside, in a very simple and expe- 
 ditious manner. In all her qualities of 
 
ADMIRAL FAERAGUT'S ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 597 
 
 construction and equipment, the Tennessee 
 was one of the most formidable craft that 
 ever floated. 
 
 In close connection with this vast and 
 splendid series of achievements, and as 
 having a direct bearing upon the victori- 
 ous ending of the war by the valor of the 
 navy, in which operations the brave 
 Admiral Porter exhibited his distinguish- 
 ing characteristics of unquailing courage 
 and consummate judgment, and whose 
 magnificent services would have long since 
 elevated him to the chief magistracy of 
 his country, but for the traditionally dis- 
 proportionate influence of the army in 
 national politics and counsels, the cap- 
 ture of Fort Fisher, N. C., deserves to be 
 here recorded. 
 
 According to the official report, this 
 expedition, under the joint command of 
 Admiral Porter and General Terry, sailed 
 from Fortress Monroe on the morning of 
 January 6, 1865, arriving in two days 
 at the rendezvous off Beaufort, where, 
 owing to the difficulties of the weather, it 
 lay some ten days, when it got under way, 
 reaching its destination that evening. 
 Under cover of the fleet, the disembarka- 
 
 tion of the troops was effected without 
 loss. An immediate reconnoissance was 
 pushed to within about five hundred yards 
 of the fort, a small advance work being 
 taken possession of and turned into a 
 defensive line, against any attempt that 
 might be made from the fort. This recon- 
 noissance disclosed the fact that the front 
 of the work had been seriously injured by 
 the navy fire. Not many hours, therefore, 
 were allowed to elapse before the fort was 
 assaulted, and, after most desperate fight- 
 ing, was captured, with its entire garrison 
 and armament. Thus was secured, by 
 the combined efforts of the navy and 
 army, what in the language of General 
 Grant was one of the most brilliant and 
 important successes of the war. The fed- 
 eral loss was one hundred and ten killed 
 and five hundred and thirty-six wounded. 
 On the 16th and 17th, the enemy, well 
 knowing the nerve and prowess of Por- 
 ter, abandoned and blew up Fort Caswell, 
 and their works on Smith's Island, which 
 were at once occupied by the federal 
 forces, thus giving to the latter the 
 entire control of the mouth of the Cape 
 Fear river. 
 
LXXII. 
 
 GRAND MARCH OF THE UNION ARMY, UNDER GEN. 
 SHERMAN, THROUGH THE SOUTH. 1864. 
 
 Generals and Armies Baffled, and States and Cities Conquered, Without a Serious Disaster to the Vic- 
 tors. Display of Military Genius Unsurpassed in Any Age or Country. The Southern Confederacy 
 Virtually Crushed Within the Coils of this Wide-Sweeping, Bold, and Resistless Movement. The 
 Great Closing Act in the Campaign. Sherman's Qualities as a Commander. His Great Military Suc- 
 cess. His Own Story. A Brilliant Campaign Planned. Brave and Confident Troops. Atlanta, 
 Ga., the First Great Prize. Destroys that City : Starts for the Coast. Kilpatrick Leads the Cav- 
 alry. Thomas Defends the Border States. Successful Feints Made by Sherman. Subsists His 
 Men on the Enemy's Country. Immense Sweep of the Onward Columns. Savannah's Doom 
 Sealed. Fall of Fort McAllister. Christmas Gift to the President. Advance Into South Carolina. 
 The Stars and Stripes in Her Capital. All Opposition Powerless. North Carolina's Turn Next. 
 Swamps, Hills, Quagmires, Storms, Floods Battles Fought: Onward to Raleigh. Johnston's 
 Whole Army Bagged. Sherman Described Personally. 
 
 bout twe 
 
 beg to present you, aa a Christ runs gift, the city of Savannah, with one hundred and fifty heavy guns, plenty of ammunition, and 
 wenty-flve thousand bales of cotton. 1 ^ GESKBAL HHEHMAH TO PKESIDEKT Lincouf. 
 
 
 ift 
 
 ALIANT, resolute, and hopeful as a soldier, Gen- 
 eral Sherman added to these qualities the wisdom 
 and genius of Washington 
 himself as a commander. His 
 March to the Sea has been 
 universally pronounced, both 
 in America and Europe, one 
 of the most brilliant military 
 results especially when con- 
 sidered in connection with the 
 slight cost of life at which it 
 was achieved presented in 
 
 HEAD-QUARTERS, ATLANTA, OA. ^ j ong an( J varied higtorv o f 
 
 war. It was, in a word, one of the greatest and most important of modern campaigns, 
 conducted with complete success, without any considerable battle. And yet it was his 
 own native sagacity, more than anything else, which enabled General Sherman to 
 plan and execute the vast undertakings which have crowned his name with imperisha- 
 ble honor. " I have oftentimes," said General Sherman, in an address at West Point, 
 " been asked by friends familiar with Xenophon, Hume, and Jomini, in which of these 
 books I had learned the secret of leading armies on long and difficult marches, and they 
 seemed surprised when I answered that I was not aware that I had been influenced by 
 
SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 699 
 
 any of them. I told them what I now tell 
 you, in all simplicity and truth, that, when 
 I was a young lieutenant of artillery, I had 
 often hunted deer in the swamps of the 
 Edisto, the Cooper, and the Santee, and had 
 seen with my own eyes that they could be 
 passed with wagons ; that in the spring of 
 1844, I had ridden on horseback from 
 Marietta, Ga., to the valley of the Tennes- 
 see, and back to Augusta, passing in my 
 course over the very fields of Altoona, of 
 Kenesaw, and Atlanta, where afterward it 
 fell to my share to command armies and to 
 utilize the knowledge thus casually gained. 
 Again, in 1849 and 1850, I was in Cali- 
 fornia, and saw arrive across that wild belt 
 of two thousand miles of iminhabitable 
 country the caravans of emigrants, com- 
 posed of men, women, and children, who 
 reached their destination in health and 
 strength; and when we used to start on a 
 journey of a thousand miles, with a single 
 blanket as covering, and a coil of dried 
 meat and a sack of parched corn meal as 
 food ; with this knowledge fairly acquired 
 in actual experience, was there any need 
 for me to look back to Alexander the 
 Great, to Marlborough, for examples?" 
 But to all this kind of knowledge useful, 
 doubtless, in the highest degree, General 
 Sherman added the possession of the most 
 commanding military genius. 
 
 It was early in May, 1864, that General 
 Sherman began the brilliant series of his 
 campaigns. The first objective point was 
 Atlanta. To reach that city, his armies 
 had to pass from the northern limit to the 
 center of the great state of Georgia, forcing 
 their way through mountain defiles and 
 across great rivers, overcoming or turning 
 formidably intrenched positions defended 
 by a strong, well-appointed veteran army, 
 commanded by an alert, cautious, and skill- 
 ful general. The campaign opened on the 
 sixth of May, and on the second of Septem- 
 ber the national forces entered Atlanta. 
 
 For some time previously to the opening 
 movement, says General Sherman's report, 
 the union armies were lying in garrison 
 seemingly quiet, from Knoxville to Hunts- 
 ville, and the enemy lay behind his rocky- 
 
 faced barrier at Dalton, proud, defiant, 
 and exulting. He had had time since 
 Christmas to recover from his discomfiture 
 at Mission Ridge, with his ranks filled, 
 and a new commander-in-chief, and second 
 to none in the confederacy in reputation 
 for skill, sagacity, and extreme popularity. 
 All at once, the union armies assumed life 
 and action, and appeared before Dalton. 
 Threatening Rocky Face, they threw 
 themselves upon Resaca, the enemy only 
 escaping by the rapidity of their retreat, 
 aided by the numerous roads with which 
 they only were familiar. Again the con- 
 federate army took post in Altoona, but 
 found no rest, for, by a circuit towards 
 Dallas and subsequent movement to Ac- 
 worth, the union army gained the Al- 
 toona Pass. Then followed the eventful 
 battles about Kenesaw, and the escape of 
 the confederates across the Chattahoochee 
 river. The crossing of the Chattahoochee 
 and breaking of the Augusta road was 
 handsomely executed by Sherman's army. 
 It was at this stage of proceedings, that the 
 confederate authorities became dissatisfied 
 with Johnston as commander, and selected 
 one more bold and rash, General Hood. 
 New tactics were adopted by the latter. 
 He first boldly and rapidly, on the twen- 
 tieth of July, fell on the union right, at 
 Peach Tree creek, and lost. Again, on 
 the 22d, he struck the extreme union left, 
 and was severely punished; and finally, 
 again on the 28th, he unsuccessfully re- 
 peated the attempt on the union right. 
 Sherman slowly and gradually drew his 
 lines about Atlanta, feeling for the rail- 
 road which supplied the confederate army 
 and made Atlanta a place of importance. 
 The enemy met these efforts patiently and 
 skillfully, bu.t at last Hood made the mis- 
 take which Sherman had waited for so 
 long, sending his cavalry to the union 
 rear, far beyond the reach of recall. In- 
 stantly Sherman's cavalry was on Hood's 
 only remaining road, with the principal 
 army following quietly, and Atlanta fell 
 into Sherman's possession, as the fruit of 
 well-concerted measures, backed by a brave 
 and confident army. 
 
600 
 
 SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 Hood's plan was, to force General Sher- 
 man from Georgia, by cutting off his com- 
 munications, and invading Tennessee and 
 Kentucky. Pursuant to this plan, Hood, 
 by a rapid march, gained and broke up, at 
 Big Shanty, the railroad that supplied 
 Sherman's army, advanced to Daltou, and 
 thence moved toward Tennessee. Hood 
 was followed from Atlanta by Sherman far 
 enough north to cover his own purpose and 
 assure him against Hood's interrupting 
 the march to the sea-coast which he had in 
 contemplation. The task of encountering 
 Hood's formidable movements, and defend- 
 ing the border states from invasion, was 
 intrusted to General Thomas, who was 
 ably assisted by his second in command, 
 General Schofield. 
 
 It appears from Major Nichols's graphic 
 diary of the events connected with this 
 great march the narrative of his excel- 
 lent observations as one of Sherman's staff 
 officers that the general, from his camp 
 at Gaylesville, while awaiting the develop- 
 ment of Hood's design, sketched out the 
 march to Goldsboro'. Seated in front of 
 his tent, towards the end of October, 1864, 
 with his generals around him, and the 
 map of the states spread on his knees 
 Sherman ran his finger over the map, and 
 indicated his course to Savannah. Then, 
 after pondering on the map of South Car- 
 olina, his finger rested on Columbia, and 
 looking up, he said 
 
 "Howard, I believe we can go there, 
 without any serious difficulty. If we can 
 cross the Salkahatchie, we can capture 
 Columbia." 
 
 After giving expression to this strik- 
 ing strategic insight, General Sherman 
 passed his finger quickly over rivers, 
 swamps, and cities, to Goldsboro', N. C., 
 saying 
 
 " That point is a few days' march 
 through a rich country. When we reach 
 that important railway junction when I 
 once plant this army at Goldsboro', Lee 
 must leave Virginia, or he will be defeated 
 beyond hope of recovery. We can make 
 this march, for General Grant assures me 
 that Lee cannot get away from Richmond 
 
 without his knowledge, nor without seri- 
 ous loss to his armv." 
 
 This prediction, showing at once the 
 most remarkable forecast and most com- 
 prehensive generalship, was at once put in 
 course of fulfillment. 
 
 Atlanta having served its purpose in 
 General Sherman's plans a resting-place 
 on his way to Savannah, to Columbia, and 
 to Richmond if need be, it was given up 
 to the flames, that its workshops might 
 never again be employed in casting shot 
 and shell for the confederacy. The rail- 
 ways were torn up, the people turned 
 away, and torches were applied to the 
 stores and magazines. A space of two 
 hundred acres was soon on fire, and its 
 progress watched until the conflagration 
 had spread beyond the power of man to 
 arrest its destructive work, and then the 
 
 union forces marched out of the unfortu- 
 nate city with solemn tread, their band 
 playing the wild anthem, "John Brown's, 
 soul goes marching on." The army num- 
 bered about sixty-five thousand men. 
 
 As the news of Sherman's great move- 
 ment became known at the .north, intense 
 interest was felt in the result, and it may 
 well be supposed that not a few were filled 
 with the greatest apprehensions, in view of 
 the dangers to be encountered. That the 
 president, however, did not share in any 
 such feeling of alarm in regard to the 
 issue, is shown by the following converse/- 
 
SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 601 
 
 tion on the subject, between him and a 
 friend. 
 
 Said Mr. Lincoln's friend: "Mr. Lin- 
 coln, as Sherman's army advances, the 
 rebel forces necessarily concentrate and 
 increase in number. Before long, Sher- 
 man will drive the columns of Johnston, 
 Bragg, Hoke, and others, within a few 
 days' march of Lee's main army. May 
 not Lee suddenly inarch south with the 
 bulk of his army, form a junction with 
 Johnston's troops, and before Grant can 
 follow any considerable distance, strike 
 Sherman's column with superior force, 
 break his lines, defeat his army, and drive 
 his broken fragments back to the coast, 
 and with his whole army give battle to 
 Grant, and perhaps defeat him ? " 
 
 President Lincoln instantly replied: 
 "And perhaps not! Napoleon tried the 
 same game on the British and Prussians, 
 in 1815. He concentrated his forces and 
 fell suddenly on Blucher, and won an inde- 
 cisive victor}*. He then whirled round and 
 attacked the British, and met his Water- 
 loo. Bonaparte was hardly inferior to 
 Lee in military talents or experience. 
 But are you sure that Lee's forces, united 
 with Johnston's, could beat Sherman's 
 army ? Could he gain his Ligny, before 
 meeting with his Waterloo when he at- 
 tacks Grant ? I tell you, there is a heap 
 of fight in one hundred thousand western 
 veterans. They are a good deal like old 
 Zach. Taylor at Buena Vista, they don't 
 know when they are whipped ! " 
 
 In turning his back upon Atlanta, Gen- 
 eral Sherman divided his army for the 
 great march into two wings, General 
 Howard commanding the right, and Gen- 
 eral Slocum the left ; General Kilpatrick 
 handled the cavalry under Sherman's 
 orders. The various corps composing the 
 wings were led, respectively, by Generals 
 Osterhaus, Blair, Davis, and Williams; 
 and Sherman for a time accompanied one 
 wing and then the other. 
 
 On the 13th of November, Sherman's 
 communications with the north ceased. 
 Spreading itself out like a fan, the extreme 
 left wing swept down the Augusta road, 
 
 and the extreme right marched towards 
 Macon, the space between being covered 
 by two corps, one from each wing, and the 
 cavalry riding well on the flanks. Mil- 
 ledgeville, the capital of Georgia, on the 
 Oconee, was the first point of concentra- 
 tion for the left wing. The right wing, 
 preceded and flanked by cavalry, went 
 down the roads towards Macon, sweeping 
 away the small opposing forces mustered 
 by Cobb and Wheeler, and advancing as 
 far as Griffin. The left wing went by 
 Covington to Madison, and there, sending 
 the cavalry towards Augusta, turned south- 
 ward by way of Eatonton to Milledgeville. 
 The right, after maneuvering in the direc- 
 tion of Macon, crossed the Ocmulgee above 
 it, and, passing by Clinton, descended 
 upon Gordon, whence a branch line led to 
 Milledgeville. 
 
 The movement of troops on so many 
 points had confounded the confederates. 
 The authorities of Augusta believed their 
 town was the object of the march ; those 
 of Macon were certain that it was against 
 them the enemy was coming. In reality, 
 Sherman had turned toward Macon, and 
 had cut off at least the infantry force 
 there, and rendered it useless. They 
 showed fight, however, attacking a small 
 union force, pushed up to Griswoldville to 
 protect the confederates who were destroy- 
 ing the railroad, and were punished se- 
 verely for their courage. 
 
 In a week after quitting Atlanta, the 
 left wing was united at Milledgeville and 
 the right at Gordon, while the cavalry 
 were scouring the flanks. In the mean- 
 time, General Wheeler had ridden round 
 the right flank, and crossing the Oconee, 
 had turned to defend the passage of the 
 swampy stream. But his resistance was 
 vain. Slocum moved out from Milledgeville 
 upon Sandersville, and Howard marched 
 on both sides of the Savannah railway, 
 thrusting Wheeler away from the bridge 
 over the Oconee, and crossing himself 
 without the loss of a man. The left wing 
 was now converging on Louisville, while 
 the right struck across the country, by 
 Swainsboro', upon Millen. It was now 
 
602 
 
 SHEKMAN'S MAKCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 > Mill i* s\^ 
 
SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 603 
 
 piam that the confederates had no troops 
 strong enough to interrupt the march, as 
 all their efforts had failed to arrest the 
 forward movement of the columns. 
 
 In this way, covering a wide front, now 
 filing through swamps, now spreading out 
 on a broad front under the tufted pines, 
 now halting to tear up, twist, and burn 
 rails and sleepers, now collecting cattle and 
 forage, and everywhere welcomed and fol- 
 lowed by the negroes, the army pressed 
 forward to its goal. The left flankers came 
 down through Sparta, the solid body of the 
 left wing marched through Davisboro', the 
 right moved steadily forward upon Millen, 
 while Kilpatrick was in the front threat- 
 ening Waynesboro', and destroying the 
 bridges on the way to Augusta. At length 
 the whole force, save one corps, crossed 
 the Ogeechee and united at Millen. 
 
 Here, again, Sherman kept his oppo- 
 nents in doubt respecting the course he 
 would pursue. At Millen he threatened 
 both Augusta and Savannah, and he made 
 such strong demonstrations on the Au- 
 gusta road, that he led the confederates to 
 fear for Augusta, and so prevented them 
 from concentrating their troops at Savan- 
 nah. Kilpatrick, supported by two infan- 
 try brigades, very effectually disposed of 
 Wheeler. The army halted two days, and, 
 refreshed and united, began on the second 
 of December, its final march upon Savan- 
 nah. The whole force, save one corps, 
 went steadily down the strip of laud be- 
 tween the Savannah and the Ogeechee, 
 while the one corps on the right bank, 
 marching in two columns, a day in ad- 
 vance of the main body, effectually pre- 
 vented the confederates from making any 
 stand on the main road by constantly 
 flanking every position, a sound precau- 
 tion, though not needed. 
 
 The correspondents who accompanied 
 this grand army on its triumphant march, 
 have furnished abundant narrative con- 
 cerning that brilliant consummation of its 
 toils, the capture of Savannah. It was on 
 the evening of December 12th, says one of 
 these, that General Howard relieved 
 Hazen's second division of the fifteenth 
 
 corps, by a part of the Seventeenth, and 
 threw it across the Little Ogeechee, 
 toward the Great Ogeechee, with the 
 view of crossing it to Ossabaw Island, 
 and reducing Fort McAllister, which held 
 the river and the city. The confederates 
 had destroyed King's bridge, across the 
 Great Ogeechee, and this had to be re- 
 paired ; this was done one thousand feet 
 of bridging during the night, and, on the 
 morning of the 13th, Hazen crossed and 
 moved toward the point where Fort McAl- 
 lister obstructed the river. Kilpatrick, in 
 the meantime, had moved down to St. 
 Catherine's sound, opened communication 
 with the fleet, and asked permission to 
 storm Fort McAllister; but Sherman 
 thought the cavalry unequal to this feat. 
 
 Hazen made his arrangements to storm 
 the fort on the afternoon of the 13th, Gen- 
 erals Sherman and Howard being at Che- 
 roe's rice mill, on the Ogeechee, opposite 
 the fort. Sherman was on the roof of the 
 mill, surrounded by his staff and signal 
 officers, Beckley and Cole, waiting to com- 
 municate with Hazen, on the Island. 
 While patiently waiting for Hazen's sig- 
 nals, Sherman's keen eye detected smoke 
 in the horizon, seaward. Up to this time 
 he had received no intelligence from the 
 fleet. In a moment the countenance of 
 the bronzed chieftain lightened up, and he 
 exclaimed 
 
 " Look ! Howard ; there is the gun- 
 boat!" 
 
 Time passed on, and the vessel now 
 became visible, but no signal from the 
 fleet or Hazen. Half an hour passed, and 
 the guns of the fort opened simultaneously 
 with puffs of smoke that rose a few hun- 
 dred yards from the fort, showing that 
 Hazen's skirmishers had opened. A mo- 
 ment after, Hazen signaled 
 
 "I have invested the fort, and will 
 assault immediately." 
 
 At this moment, Beckley announced a 
 signal from the gun-boat. All eyes now 
 turned from the fort to the gun-boat that 
 was coming to their assistance with news 
 from home. A few messages pass, which 
 apprise that Foster and Dahlgren are 
 
604 
 
 SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 within speaking distance. The gun-boat 
 now halts and asks 
 
 " Can we run up ? Is Fort McAllister 
 ours ? " 
 
 "No," is the reply; "Hazen is just 
 i-eady to storm it. Can you assist ? " 
 
 " Yes," is the response ; " What will 
 you have us do ? " 
 
 But before Sherman can reply to Dahl- 
 gren the thunders of the fort are heard, 
 and the low sound of small arms is borne 
 across the three miles of marsh and river. 
 Field glasses are opened, and, sitting flat 
 upon the roof, the hero of Atlanta gazes 
 away off to the fort. " There they go 
 grandly not a waver," he remarks. 
 
 Twenty seconds pass, and again he ex- 
 claims 
 
 " See that flag in the advance, Howard ; 
 how steadily it moves ; not a man falters. 
 * * There they go still ; see the roll of 
 musketry. Grand, grand ! " 
 
 Still he strained his eyes, and a moment 
 after spoke without looking up 
 
 " That flag still goes forward ; there is 
 no flinching there." 
 
 A pause for a minute. 
 
 " Look ! " he exclaims, " it has halted. 
 They waver no, it's the parapet ! There 
 they go again; now they scale it; some 
 are over. Look ! There's a flag on the 
 works! Another; another. It's ours. 
 The fort's ours ! " 
 
 The glass dropped by his side ; and in 
 an instant the joy of the great leader at 
 the possession of the river and the open- 
 ing of the road to his new base burst forth 
 in words 
 
 " As the old darkey remarked, dis chile 
 don't sleep dis night ! " and turning to 
 one of his aids, he added, " Have a boat 
 for me at once ; I must go there ! " 
 pointing to the fort from which half a 
 dozen battle-flags floated grandly in the 
 sunset. 
 
 But this dramatic scene is thus graphi- 
 cally delineated by another correspondent, 
 who brings the narrative down to the cul- 
 minating and crowning event. The United 
 States revenue cutter Nemaha, Lieutenant 
 Warner, General Foster's flag-boat, left 
 
 Hilton Head, on the morning of December 
 12th, to go down the coast with General 
 Foster and staff,. to endeavor to open com- 
 munication with General Sherman, going 
 through to Fort Pulaski and thence 
 through the marsh to Warsaw Sound, 
 looking toward the main canal to discover 
 some traces of Sherman's advance. None 
 were observed, so Foster proceeded outside, 
 and entered Ossabaw Sound, where the 
 gun-boat Flag, on blockading duty, was 
 communicated with. Lieutenant Fisher 
 was here left on board the Flag, to proceed 
 with his party up the Ogeechee, and en- 
 deavor to jienal to Sherman, if he should 
 approach the coast at that point. 
 
 The Nemaha returned to Warsaw, and 
 moved up the Wilmington river, anchor- 
 ing just out of range of a confederate bat- 
 tery. During the night, rockets were 
 thrown up by Captain Merrill, chief of ths 
 signal corps, to announce his presence to 
 General Sherman's signal officers, but 
 elicited no response. 
 
 Lieutenant Fisher was more successful. 
 The Flag fired six guns in rapid succes- 
 sion, from a heavy gun, as a signal, and 
 then Lieutenant Fisher threw up several 
 rockets and closely examined the horizon 
 over the mainland for the response. At 
 about three o'clock on the morning of the 
 13th, after a rocket had been discharged 
 from the Flag, a little stream of light was 
 observed to shoot up in the direction of the 
 Ogeechee, and quickly die away. Another 
 rocket was immediately sent up from the 
 flag-ship, and a second stream of light was 
 seen in the same position as the first. It 
 then became a question, whether or not 
 they were confederate signals to deceive 
 the federal officers. 
 
 At about seven o'clock, the navy tug 
 Dandelion, acting master Williams, took 
 Lieutenant Fisher and his party, and Cap- 
 tain Williamson, of the flag-ship, and pro- 
 ceeded up the Ogeechee, to a point within 
 sight of Fort McAllister and the batteries 
 on the Little Ogeechee. Here Lieutenant 
 Fisher took a small boat and proceeded up 
 as far as possible without drawing the 
 enemy's fire. A careful reconnoissance 
 
SHERMAN'S MAECH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 G05 
 
 was made jf the fort and the surrounding 
 woods, from which came the reports of 
 musketry, and the attention of the garrison 
 seemed to be directed inland entirely. A 
 flag, which seemed like that of the Union, 
 was seen flying from a house four miles off, 
 and on more careful examination the stars 
 were plainly visible, and all doubt of the 
 character of the fl.ig was at once removed. 
 It ivas the flag t/iat had floated over Gen- 
 eral Howard's head-quarters at Atlanta, 
 and now flamed out on the sea-coast, 
 within eiffht miles of the city of Savan- 
 nah. Lieutenant Fisher at once returned 
 to the tug, and moved up to an opening 
 out of range of Fort McAllister, when, 
 from the top of the pilot-house of the Dan- 
 delion, the American flag could be dis- 
 tinctly seen. A white signal flag was at 
 once raised by Lieutenant Fisher, and at 
 once a signal flag of like nature was waved, 
 and communication opened. Lieutenant 
 Fisher signaled 
 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
 " McClintock, chief signal officer of 
 General Howard," was signaled back. 
 
 A message was at once sent to General 
 Sherman, tendering all aid from General 
 Foster and Admiral Dahlgren. General 
 Sherman then signaled that he was invest- 
 ing Fort McAllister, and wanted to know 
 if the boat could help with her heavy guns. 
 Before any reply could be given, Sherman 
 had signaled to Hazen, of the fifteenth 
 corps, to take the fort immediately. In 
 five minutes the rally had been sounded 
 by the bugles. One volley of musketry 
 was heard, and the next moment the three 
 brigade flags of Hazen's troops were 
 placed, almost simultaneously, on the par- 
 apets of Fort McAllister. The fort was 
 captured in twenty minutes after General 
 Sherman's order to take it was given. 
 Sherman then sent word that he would be 
 down that night, and to look out for his 
 boat. The tug immediately steamed down 
 to Ossabaw Sound, to find General Foster 
 or Admiral Dahlgren ; but they not being 
 there, dispatches were sent to them at 
 Warsaw, announcing General Sherman's 
 intended visit, and the tug returned to its 
 
 old position. While approaching the fort 
 again a small boat was seen coming down. 
 It was hailed with 
 
 "What boat is that ? " and the welcome 
 response came back 
 
 "Sherman." 
 
 It soon came alongside, and out of the 
 little dug-out, paddled by two men, stepped 
 General Sherman and General Howard, 
 and stood on the deck of the Dandelion. 
 The great leader was received with cheer 
 after cheer. 
 
 The city of Savannah, strongly fortified, 
 and garrisoned by a large force under Gen- 
 eral Hardee, was summoned, but surrender 
 was refused. Preparations for assault 
 were made, and, during the night of De- 
 cember 20th, Hardee evacuated the city, 
 and, with a large part of his garrison, 
 escaped under cover of darkness. The 
 union army soon after entered the city, 
 and General Sherman thus announced 
 to President Lincoln this splendid tri- 
 umph : 
 
 " / bey to present you, as a Christmas 
 yift, the city of Savannah, with 150 heavy 
 guns, and plenty of ammunition, and also 
 about 25,000 bales of cotton." 
 
 Waiting at Savannah only long enough 
 to refit and recruit, Sherman again began 
 a march which, for peril, labor, and results, 
 will compare with any ever made by an 
 organized army. The floods of the Savan- 
 nah, the swamps of the Combahee and 
 Edisto, the high hills and rocks of the 
 Santee, the flat quagmires of the Pedee 
 and Cape Fear rivers, were all passed in 
 mid-winter, with its floods and rains, in 
 the face of an accumulating enemy. 
 
 On the morning of February 17th, Gen- 
 eral Sherman entered Columbia, the capi- 
 tal of South Carolina. In about a month 
 fron this time, and after fighting battles 
 at Averysboro' and Bentonville, he made 
 a junction with General Terry's forces at 
 Goldsboro', K C., and from this point 
 pushed onward to Ealeigh, where, on the 
 26th of April he received the surrender of 
 the confederate army under Johnston, the 
 only remaining formidable confederate 
 army in existence at that time east of the 
 
606 
 
 SHERMAN'S MARCH THROUGH THE SOUTH. 
 
 Mississippi river, thus virtually crushing 
 the southern confederacy. Indeed, it was 
 Sherman's intention not to stop short of 
 Richmond, and only the great events con- 
 summated a short time previously at that 
 important point, under Grant's masterly 
 generalship, rendered this part of the pro- 
 gramme unnecessary. 
 
 At this time, the great warrior, as de- 
 scribed by his accomplished aid-de-camp, 
 Major Nichols, was in person nearly six 
 feet in height, with a wiry, muscular, and 
 not ungraceful frame. His age only forty- 
 seven years, but his face furrowed with 
 deep lines, indicating care and profound 
 thought. With surprising rapidity, how- 
 ever, these strong lines disappeared when 
 he talked with women and children. His 
 eyes dark brown, and sharp and quick in 
 expression ; his forehead broad and fair, 
 and sloping gently at the top of the head, 
 the latter being covered with thick and 
 light brown hair, closely trimmed ; his 
 beard and moustache, of a sandy hue, 
 were also closely cut. Of an iron consti- 
 tution, exposure to cold, rain, or burning 
 heat, seemed to produce no effect upon his 
 powers of endurance and strength. Under 
 tne most harassing conditions, he exhibited 
 
 no signs of fatigue. When in the field he 
 retired earl}', but at midnight he might be 
 found pacing in front of his tent, or sitting 
 by the camp-fire smoking his cigar. He 
 would fall asleep as easily and as quickly 
 as a little child, by the roadside or upon 
 wet ground, on the hard floor or when a 
 battle stirred the scene ; but the galloping 
 of a courier's horse down the road would 
 instantly awaken him, as well as a voice 
 or movement in his tent. As showing his 
 thorough military spirit, it is related of 
 him, that, before the fall of Atlanta, ho 
 refused a commission of major-general in 
 the regular army, saying, "These positions 
 of so much trust and honor should be held 
 open until the close of the war. They 
 should not be hastily given. Important 
 campaigns are in operation. At the end, 
 let those who prove their capacity and 
 merit be the ones appointed to these high 
 honors." The great captain was in a 
 short time made lieutenant-general, and, 
 subsequently, on the accession of General 
 Grant to the presidency, he oecai^e GEN- 
 ERAL OF THE AKMY, a military rank 
 and title conferred only upon three per- 
 sons, since the founding of the republic, 
 namely, WASHINGTON, GRANT, SHEKMAN. 
 
LXXIII. 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND, VA., THE CONFEDERATE 
 CAPITAL. 1865. 
 
 The Entrenched City Closely Encompassed for Months by General Grant's Brave Legions and Walls of 
 Steel. Flight of Jefferson Davis, and Surrender of General Lee's Army. Overthrow of the Four 
 Years' Gigantic Rebellion. The -(Egis and Starry Ensigns of the Republic Everywhere Dominant- 
 Transports of Joy Fill the Land. A Nation's Laurels Crown the Head of the Conqueror of Peace. 
 Memorable Day in Human Affairs. Momentous Issues Involved Heavy Cost of this Triumph. 
 Without it, a Lost Republic Unequaled Valor Displayed. Sherman's Grand Conceptions. 
 Sheridan's Splendid Generalship. Onward March of Events. Strategy, Battles, Victories. Lee'a 
 Lines Fatally Broken. Approach of the Final Crisis Richmond Evacuated by Night. Retreat 
 of Lee: Vigorous Pursuit. His Hopeless Resistance to Grant Their Correspondence and Inter- 
 Tie w . The Two Great Generals Face to Face. What was Said and Done. Announcing the Result. 
 
 Parting of Lee with His Soldiers. President Lincoln's Visit to Richmond Raising the United 
 States Flag at Fort Sumter. Davis a Prisoner in Fortress Monroe. 
 
 M I prooow to 4(tht it oat on thii lin. if it takes all summer." OBSEEAL GIAHT'I DufATCH FKOM THE FIELD. 
 
 'EEXES crossing the Hellespont with his miles of 
 troops and flotilla, and over which vast concourse, 
 he wept, it is said, as it passed iu review, was not 
 a more memorable illustration of the pomp and 
 circumstance of war, than that which was exhibit- 
 ed in 1864 and 1866 by the Union army under Gen- 
 eral Grant, which, like a wall of steel, beleagvor- 
 ed the entrenched city of Kichmond the strong- 
 hold of his country's foes, and brought it, in 
 April of the last-named year, to submission and 
 surrender ; and with which event, the hosts that 
 had been gathered by a powerful confederacy for 
 the overthrow of the republic, melted away in 
 defeat and disaster, the disunion chieftains became 
 fugitives, and the long strife of arms ceased 
 throughout the nation. This event has been j.-stly 
 characterized as far more momentous than any 
 other that is likely to happen in our time, and 
 which will always make 1865 one of the great 
 years of history putting it, in fact, in the same 
 category with the first year of the Christian era, 
 oE^GRlNT^ATiNG TERMS OF SURRENDER, the year in which Eome was sacked, in which 
 
608 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 Europe was saved from the Saracens, in 
 which Luther began to preach the Reform- 
 ation, in which Parliament drew the sword 
 against Charles I., and in which the first 
 shot was fired in the American Revolu- 
 tion ; a year, in short, in which events 
 marked the commencement of a new and 
 important stage in human progress. 
 
 That the foe thus vanquished was not 
 an inferior one is shown by the single fact, 
 if by no other as stated by one of the 
 most reliable authorities in such matters, 
 that, in the whole history of war, no city 
 has been purchased by a conqueror at so 
 heavy a price as it cost to take Richmond. 
 Napoleon took Berlin, Vienna, and Mos- 
 cow, each in a single campaign, and, when 
 the scale of fortune turned, the Allies 
 entered Paris in two successive years. 
 Sebastopol resisted the English and French 
 armies for thirteen or fourteen months, 
 and four or five battles were fought in the 
 hope of raising the siege. For nearly 
 four years, Richmond was the principal 
 object of siege and attack by the union 
 armies, and probably half a million of men 
 were at different times employed in at- 
 tempting its conquest. After the disas- 
 ter at Bull Run had shown the federal 
 government the deficiencies of its military 
 organization, General McClellan command- 
 ed an army of not far from two hundred 
 thousand men on the Potomac, and he land- 
 ed more than half the number in the Pe- 
 ninsula, while his colleagues defended the 
 approaches of Washington. The losses of 
 the union army in the disastrous campaign 
 of the Chickahominy, and in the subsequent 
 defeat of General Pope, were variously 
 estimated from fifty thousand all the way 
 up to one hundred thousand men. Burn- 
 side's loss, in his attack upon the heights 
 of Fredericksburg, was not far from fifteen 
 thousand men, and about the same result 
 attended the struggle between Generals 
 Lee and Hooker, in 1863. The magnifi- 
 cent union victory at Gettysburg, involv- 
 ing so great a loss of life, was included in 
 the same campaign. It was not till the 
 early summer of 1864, that General Grant 
 commenced his final advance upon Rich- 
 
 mond, and the battles which ensued in the 
 Shenandoah and in the neighborhood of 
 Petersburg, added largely to the record of 
 bloodshed. Great and most precious, how- 
 ever, as was the cost of final victory to the 
 union army, its final defeat instead would 
 have been at the cost of the existence of 
 the Republic ! 
 
 The splendid military conceptions of 
 General Sherman, and their perfect execu 
 tion, had much to do with hastening the 
 downfall of Richmond and the collapse of 
 the southern confederacy, nor can the brave 
 and effective movement of General Sheri- 
 dan in the same relation be too highly 
 eulogized by his countrymen. Of the lat- 
 ter general's services, at this most excit- 
 ing and momentous crisis, General Grant 
 says : " During the 30th, (March, 1865.'> 
 Sheridan advanced from Dinwiddie Court- 
 House towards Five Forks, where he found 
 the enemy in force. General Warren 
 advanced and extended his line across the 
 Boydton plank road to near the White 
 Oak road, with a view of getting across 
 the latter ; but finding the enemy strong 
 in his front, and extending beyond his left, 
 was directed to hold on where he was and 
 fortify. General Humphreys drove the 
 enemy from his front into his main line on 
 the Hatcher, near Burgess's mills. Gen- 
 erals Ord, Wright, and Parke, made exam- 
 inations in their fronts to determine the 
 feasibility of an assault on the enemy's 
 lines. The two latter reported favorably. 
 The enemy confronting us, as he did, at 
 every point from Richmond to our extreme 
 left, I conceived his lines must be weakly 
 held, and could be penetrated if my esti- 
 mate of his forces was correct. I deter- 
 mined, therefore, to extend my line no 
 further, but to re-enforce General Sheri- 
 dan with a corps of infantry, and thus ena- 
 ble him to cut loose and turn the enemy's 
 right flank, and with the other corps as- 
 sault the enemy's lines." 
 
 With what soldierly gallantry Sheridan 
 and his colleagues fulfilled the parts as- 
 signed them by their superior, is thus 
 related by the latter. " On the morning 
 of the 31st, General Warren reported fa- 
 
FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 609 
 
 vorably to getting possession of the White 
 Oak road, and was directed to do so. To 
 accomplish this, he moved with one divis- 
 ion, instead of his whole corps, which was 
 attacked by the enemy in superior force 
 and driven back on the second division 
 before it had time to form, and it, in turn, 
 forced back upon the third division, 
 when the enemy was checked. A divis- 
 ion of the second corps was immedi- 
 ately sent to his support, the enemy driven 
 back with heavy loss, and possession of 
 the White Oak road gained. Sheridan 
 advanced, and with a portion of his cavalry 
 got possession of the Five Forks, but the 
 enemy, after the affair with the fifth corps, 
 re-enforced the rebel cavalry, defending 
 that point with infantry, and forced him 
 back towards Dinwiddie Court-House. 
 Here General Sheridan displayed great 
 generalship. Instead of retreating with 
 his whole command on the main army, to 
 tell the story of superior forces encount- 
 ered, he deployed his cavalry on foot, leav- 
 ing only mounted men enough to take 
 charge of the horses. This compelled the 
 enemy to deploy over a vast extent of 
 woods and broken country, and made his 
 progress slow. At this juncture, he dis- 
 patched to me what had taken place, and 
 that he was dropping back slowly on Din- 
 widdie Court-House." Never was the trib- 
 ute of praise more worthily bestowed, 
 than this by the greatest of American 
 heroes upon General Sheridan. 
 
 But still more important events were 
 hastening. "On the morning of the 1st 
 of April," says General Grant, " General 
 Sheridan, re-enforced by General Warren, 
 drove the enemy back on Five Forks, 
 where, late in the evening, he assaulted 
 and carried his strongly fortified position, 
 capturing all his artillery, and between 
 five and six thousand prisoners. About 
 the close of this battle, Brevet Major- 
 General Charles Griffin relieved Major- 
 General Warren, in command of the fifth 
 corps. The report of this reached me after 
 nightfall. Some apprehensions filled my 
 mind lest the enemy might desert his lines 
 
 during the night, and by falling upon 
 39 
 
 General Sheridan before assistance could 
 reach him, drive him from his position 
 and open the way for retreat. To guard 
 against this, General Miles's division of 
 Humphrey's corps was sent to re-enforce 
 him, and a bombardment was commenced 
 and kept up until four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, April 2d, when an assault was ordered 
 on the enemy's lines. General Wright 
 penetrated the lines with his whole corps, 
 sweeping everything before him and to 
 the left towards Hatcher's Eun, capturing 
 many guns and several thousand prisoners. 
 He was closely followed by two divisions 
 of General Ord's command, until he met 
 the other division of General Ord's that 
 had succeeded in forcing the enemy's lines 
 near Hatcher's Run. Generals Wright 
 and Ord immediately swung to the right, 
 and closed all of the enemy on that side of 
 them in Petersburg, while General Hum- 
 phreys pushed forward with two divisions 
 and joined General Wright on the left. 
 General Parke succeeded in carrying the 
 enemy's main line, capturing guns and 
 prisoners, but was unable to carry his 
 inner line. General Sheridan being advised 
 of the condition of affairs, returned Gen- 
 eral Miles to his proper command. On 
 reaching the enemy's lines immediately 
 surrounding Petersburg, a portion of Gen- 
 eral Gibbon's corps, by a most gallant 
 charge, captured two strong, enclosed works 
 the most salient and commanding south 
 of Petersburg thus materially shortening 
 the line of investment necessary for tak- 
 ing in the city. The enemy south of 
 Hatcher's Eun retreated westward to 
 Sutherland's station, where they were 
 overtaken by Miles's division. A severe 
 engagement ensued and lasted until both 
 his right and left flanks were threatened 
 by the approach of General Sheridan, who 
 was moving from Ford's station towards 
 Petersburg, and a division sent by Gen- 
 eral Meade from the front of Petersburg, 
 when he broke in the utmost confusion, 
 leaving in our hands his guns and many 
 prisoners. This force retreated by the 
 main road along the Appomattox river. 
 During the night of the second, the enemy 
 
610 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 611 
 
 evacuated Petersburg and Richmond, and 
 retreated toward Danville. On the morn- 
 ing of the 3d, pursuit was commenced. 
 General Sheridan pushed for tlje Danville 
 road, keeping near the App.omattox, fol- 
 lowed by General Meade with the second 
 and sixth corps, while General Ord moved 
 for Burkesville along the South Side road, 
 the ninth corps stretched along that road 
 behind him," these combined movements 
 being made with such rapidity and effec- 
 tiveness, that Lee's army could have no 
 expectation of escape founded upon any 
 reasonable probability. 
 
 By the night of Tuesday, April 4th, 
 Sheridan and the fifth corps had, by a 
 march of thirty-six miles, gained a position 
 west of Lee, near Jettersville, on the roai 
 to Burkesville. This movement resulted 
 the next day in the capture of a train of 
 three hundred wagons, with five cannon 
 and a thousand prisoners. On Wednes- 
 day, Grant, with the twenty-fourth corps, 
 had reached Nottoway Court-House, and 
 there learned by a dispatch from Sheridan 
 that Lee had been intercepted. On Thurs- 
 day, Grant had brought his army up to 
 Sheridan's support, and with the second, 
 fifth, and sixth corps, lay in line of battle 
 at Burke's Station, facing to the north 
 and east, and cutting Lee off from Dan- 
 ville. Lee then tried to move on toward 
 Lynchburg, by taking a circuitous route 
 by way of Deatonsville, toward the Appo- 
 mattox, which he hoped to cross, and, with 
 the river between him and Grant, secure 
 his retreat. Lee was compelled to fight 
 at Deatonsville, where he was defeated, 
 his loss amounting to thirteen thousand 
 prisoners, including Lieutenant-General 
 Ewell and Major-Generals Custis Lee, 
 Kershaw, Corse, DeBarry, Anderson, Hun- 
 ton, and Barton. Fourteen cannon were 
 also taken, and several hundred wagons. 
 
 On Friday, April 7th, Grant wrote briefly 
 to Lee, asking him to surrender " that 
 portion of the Confederate States army 
 known as the Army of Northern Virginia." 
 He said : " The result of last week must 
 convince you of the hopelessness of further 
 resistance on the part of the army of 
 
 Northern Virginia in this struggle." Lee 
 replied the same day, saying that though 
 he was not entirely of Grant's opin- 
 ion as to the hopelessness of further 
 resistance, he reciprocated the desire to 
 avoid useless effusion of blood, and asked 
 upon what terms Grant would accept the 
 surrender. On the 8th, Grant again wrote, 
 declaring that he should insist upon but 
 one condition, namely : " That the men 
 surrendered shall be disqualified for taking 
 up arms again against the government of the 
 United States until properly exchanged." 
 To this, Lee replied that he did not think 
 the emergency had arisen to call for the 
 surrender, but desired an interview at ten 
 o'clock the next day, on the old stage 
 road to Richmond, in respect to the restor- 
 ation of peace. On the ninth, Grant 
 wrote that he had no authority to grant 
 such an interview. He said : " The 
 terms upon which peace can be had are 
 well understood. By the South laying 
 down their arms they will hasten that 
 most desirable event, save thousands of 
 human lives and hundreds of millions of 
 property not yet destroyed." 
 
 In taking the ground that he did in this 
 correspondence, Grant acted expressly 
 in accordance with the views entertained 
 by his superiors at Washington. It ap- 
 pears that among the dispatches which 
 Grant had sent to the president, about 
 this time, was one in which he spoke of an 
 application to be made by Lee for an 
 interview to negotiate about peace. Mr. 
 Lincoln intimated pretty clearly an inten- 
 tion to permit extremely favorable terms, 
 and to let his general-in-chief settle them ; 
 and this even to an extent that overpow- 
 ered the reticent habits of his secretary of 
 war, who, after restraining himself as long 
 as he could, broke out sternly, saying 
 
 " Mr. President, to-morrow is inaugura- 
 tion day If you are not to be the presi- 
 dent of an obedient and united people, you 
 had better not be inaugurated. Your 
 work is already done, if any other author- 
 ity than yours is for one moment to be 
 recognized, or any terms made that do not 
 signify that you are the supreme head of 
 
612 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 the nation. If generals in the field are 
 to negotiate peace, or any other chief 
 magistrate is to be acknowledged on the 
 continent, then you are not needed, and 
 you had better not take the oath of office." 
 
 " Stanton," said the president his 
 whole tone changing, "you are right. Let 
 me have a pen." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln sat down at the table and 
 wrote as follows : 
 
 " The President directs me to say to 
 you that he wishes you to have no confer- 
 ence with General Lee, unless it be for 
 the capitulation of Lee's army, or on some 
 minor or purely military matter. He 
 instructs me to say that you are not to 
 decide, discuss, or confer on any political 
 question ; such questions the president 
 holds in his own hands, and will submit 
 them to no military conferences or conven- 
 tions. In the meantime, you are to press 
 to the utmost j'our military advantages." 
 
 The president now read over what he 
 had written, and then said 
 
 " Now, Stanton, date and sign this paper, 
 and send it to Grant. We '11 see about 
 this peace business." 
 
 Grant's note declining any interview to 
 consider terms of peace was received 
 by Lee on the spot which he had desig- 
 nated for the meeting. On receipt of this, 
 Lee at once dispatched another note, 
 requesting a personal interview for the 
 object named in Grant's previous commun- 
 ication the surrender of Lee's army. A 
 flag of truce proceeded to Appomattox 
 Court-House shortly after noon, and at 
 about two o'clock the two generals met at 
 the house of Mr. W. McLean. General 
 Lee was attended by General Marshall, his 
 adjutant-general ; General Grant, by Colo- 
 nel Parker, one of his chief aids-de-camp. 
 General Grant arrived about fifteen min- 
 utes later than General Lee, and entered 
 the parlor where the latter was awaiting 
 him. 
 
 The two generals greeted each other 
 with dignified courtesy, and after a few 
 moments conversation, proceeded to the 
 business before them. Lee immediately 
 alluded to the conditions named by General 
 
 Grant for the surrender, characterized 
 them as exceedingly lenient, and said he 
 would gladly leave all the details to Gen- 
 eral Grant's own discretion. Of this inter- 
 view, General Grant himself gave the 
 following interesting account to some 
 friends, at a private dinner-party in Wash- 
 ington : 
 
 " I felt some embarrassment in the pros- 
 pect of meeting General Lee. I had not 
 seen him since he was General Scott's 
 chief-of-staff in Mexico ; and in addition to 
 the respect I entertained for him, the 
 duty which I had to perform was a dis- 
 agreeable one, and I wished to get through 
 it as soon as possible. When I reached 
 Appomattox Court-House, I had ridden 
 that morning thirty-seven miles. I was 
 in my campaign clothes, covered with dust 
 and mud ; I had no sword ; I was not even 
 well mounted, for I rode (turning to Gen- 
 eral Ingals, who was present,) one of 
 Ingals's horses. I found General Lee in a 
 fresh suit of confederate gray, with all the 
 insignia of his rank, and at his side the 
 splendid dress-sword which had been given 
 him by the state of Virginia. We shook 
 hands. He was exceedingly courteous in 
 his address, and we seated ourselves at a 
 deal table in Mr. McLean's front room. 
 We talked of two of the conditions of sur- 
 render, which had been left open by our 
 previous correspondence, one of which re- 
 lated to the ceremonies which were to be 
 observed on the occasion ; and when I dis- 
 claimed any desire to have any parade, 
 but said I should be contented with the 
 delivery of arms to my officers, and with 
 the proper signature and authentication of 
 paroles, he seemed to be greatly pleased. 
 When I yielded the other point, that the 
 officers should retain their side arms and 
 private baggage and horses, his emotions 
 of satisfaction were plainly visible. We 
 soon reduced the terms to writing. We 
 parted with the same courtesies with which 
 we had met. It seemed to me that Gen- 
 eral Lee evinced a feeling of satisfaction 
 and relief when the business was finished. 
 I immediately mounted Ingals's horse, re- 
 turned to General Sheridan's head-quarters, 
 
FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 613 
 
 and did not again present myself to the 
 confederate commander." 
 
 The house in which this most memora- 
 ble interview took place was s. comfortable 
 and well-built double brick house, with a 
 small green lawn in front. The occupant, 
 Mr. McLean, lived in 1861 at Bull Run, 
 and owned the farm on which the first 
 and famous Bull Run battle was fought. 
 It was in consequence of the disturbed 
 state of the country and the annoyances 
 to which he was subjected, that he aban- 
 doned his place, and took refuge in the 
 distant town of Appomattox. Here he 
 purchased some land and settled quietly 
 down, as he thought, beyond the tide of 
 war. But fate followed him ; for, about 
 four years after he left the Bull Run farm, 
 the southern army was surrounded at 
 Appomattox, and the last battle as well as 
 the first was fought on his farm ! The 
 large marble-topped center table, on which 
 the two generals signed the minutes, was 
 of a somewhat antiquated style, and was 
 afterwards purchased by General Ord for 
 fifty dollars. General Ouster purchased 
 the other table, of small size, on which the 
 documents were prepared, for twenty-five 
 dollars. 
 
 After the interview, General Lee re- 
 turned to his own camp, about half a mile 
 distant, where his leading officers were 
 assembled, awaiting his return. He an- 
 nounced the result and the terms, where- 
 upon they expressed great satisfaction at 
 the liberal conditions. They then ap- 
 proached him in order of rank, shook 
 hands, and assured him of their approval 
 of his course, and their regret at parting. 
 The fact of surrender and the easy terms 
 were then announced to the troops, and 
 when General Lee appeared among them 
 he was loudly cheered. 
 
 Immediately after the evacuation of 
 Richmond, General Weitzel, with the 
 second brigade of the third division of the 
 twenty-fourth army corps, entered the city 
 and took possession, hoisting the United 
 States flag at every prominent point, and 
 on the next day President Lincoln visited 
 the falleu capital. His appearance was 
 
 greeted with tumultuous cheering, though 
 he cainu with no pomp of attendance or 
 surroundings, and totally unheralded. He 
 arrived in a United States war vessel, 
 early in the afternoon, at the landing 
 called the Rocketts, about a mile below 
 the city, and thence, accompanied by his 
 young son and Admiral Porter, -went to 
 the city in a boat. Mr. 0. C. Coffin, 
 (." Carleton,") the accomplished corre- 
 spondent of the Boston Journal, in giving 
 an account of this presidential visit, says 
 that somehow the negroes on the bank of 
 the river ascertained that the tall man 
 wearing a black hat was President Lin- 
 coln. There was a sudden shout. An 
 officer who had just picked up fifty negroes 
 to do work on the dock, found himself 
 alone. They left work, and crowded 
 around the president. As he approached, 
 I said to a colored woman, 
 
 " There is the man who made you free." 
 
 " What, massa ? " 
 
 " That is President Lincoln." 
 
 " Dat President Linkum ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She gazed at him a moment, clapped 
 her hands, and jumped straight up and 
 down, shouting " Glory, glory, glory !" till 
 her voice was lost in the universal 
 cheer. 
 
 There was no carriage near, so the presi- 
 dent, leading his son, walked three-quarters 
 of a mile up to General Weitzel's head- 
 quarters Jefferson Davis's presidential 
 mansion. A colored man acted as guide. 
 Six sailors, wearing their round blue caps 
 and short jackets and bagging pants, with 
 navy carbines, were the advance guard. 
 Then came the president and Admiral 
 Porter, flanked by the officers accompany- 
 ing him, and the correspondent of the 
 Boston Journal, then six more sailors with 
 carbines, amid a surging mass of men, 
 women, and children, black, white, and 
 yellow, running, shouting, and dancing, 
 swinging their caps, bonnets and hand- 
 kerchiefs. The soldiers saw him and 
 swelled the crowd, cheering in wild enthu- 
 siasm. All could see him, he was so tall, 
 so conspicuous. 
 
614 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 One colored woman, standing in a door- 
 way, as the president passed along the 
 sidewalk, shouted, " Thank you, dear 
 Jesus, for this ! thank you, Jesus ! " 
 Another, standing by her side, was clap- 
 ping her hands and shouting, " Bless de 
 Lord ! " A colored woman snatched her 
 honnet from her head, whirled it in the 
 air, and screamed with all her might, 
 " God bless you, Massa Linkum ! " 
 
 President Lincoln walked in silence, 
 acknowledging the salutes of officers and 
 soldiers, and of the citizens, black and 
 white. It was the man of the people 
 among the people. It was the greft de- 
 liverer among the delivered. General 
 Shepley met the president in the street, 
 and escorted him to General Weitzel's 
 quarters. Major Stevens, hearing that 
 the president was on his way, suddenly 
 summoned a detachment of Massachusetts 
 cavalry, and cleared the way. After a 
 tedious walk, the mansion of Mr. Davis 
 was reached. The immense crowd swept 
 round the corner of the street and packed 
 the space in front. General Weitzel 
 received the president at the door. Cheer 
 upon cheer went up from the excited mul- 
 titude, two-thirds of whom were colored. 
 The officers who had assembled were 
 presented to the president in the reception 
 room, and then citizens innumerable paid 
 him their respects ; after which the presi- 
 dent took a ride through the city, accom- 
 panied by Admiral Porter, Generals Shep- 
 ley and Weitzel, and others. 
 
 All this took place only a few hours 
 after the flight of Davis. Early in the 
 forenoon of that eventful Sunday, Lee tel- 
 egraphed to his chief, that his lines had 
 been broken in three places and that Rich- 
 mond must be evacuated in the evening. 
 This message was delivered to Davis at 
 eleven o'clock, while he was in church. 
 He immediately left, and, arranging his 
 affairs as well as time would permit, pro- 
 ceeded with his cabinet to Danville. Pol- 
 lard, the historian of the southern cause, 
 states that the rumor was caught up in 
 the streets that Richmond was to be evac- 
 uated, and was soon carried to the ends 
 
 of the city. Men, women, and children, 
 rushed from the churches, passing from 
 lip to lip news of the impending fall. It 
 was late in the afternoon when the signs 
 of evacuation became apparent to the in- 
 credulous. Wagons on the streets were 
 being hastily loaded at the departments 
 with boxes, trunks, etc., and driven to the 
 Danville depot. Those who had deter- 
 mined to evacuate with the fugitive govern- 
 ment looked on with amazement; then, 
 convinced of the fact, rushed to follow the 
 government's example. Vehicles suddenly 
 rose to a premium value that was astound- 
 ing. All over the city it was the same 
 wagons, trunks, boxes, bundles, and their 
 hurrying owners, filling the streets. By 
 order of the military authorities, all the 
 spirituous liquor in the city was destroyed, 
 but some of it was seized and used by the 
 straggling soldiery, who thereupon commit- 
 ted the grossest excesses. The great 
 tobacco warehouses were also, by mili- 
 tary order, set on fire, as were also the 
 various bridges leading out of the city, 
 and the rams in James river were blown 
 up. The whole scene was awful in the 
 extreme. 
 
 At Danville, Davis set up the form and 
 machinery of his government, issuing at 
 once a stirring address, in which he said : 
 " We have now entered upon a new phase 
 of the struggle. Relieved from the neces- 
 sity of guarding particular points, our 
 army will be free to move from point to 
 point, to strike the enemy in detail far 
 from his base." Waiting here, in expect- 
 ation of Lee's arrival with his army, the 
 news of the surrender of the latter reached 
 him on the 10th of April. Dismayed at 
 the tidings, Davis hastilj' made his escape 
 to Greensboro, N. C., and afterwards, with 
 various haltings, to Charlotte, N. C., and 
 thence to Washington and Irwinsville, 
 Ga., where he was captured, May llth, by 
 the union cavalry, and carried, a prisoner, 
 to Fortress Monroe. This was, in form, 
 the close of the war. General Johnston 
 surrendered his army at Raleigh, N. C., 
 April 26th, to General Sherman. General 
 Howell Cobb, with, his militia and five 
 
FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 615 
 
 generals, surrendered to General Wilson, 
 at Macon, Ga., April 20th. Gen. Dick 
 Taylor surrendered all the remaining con- 
 federate forces east of the Mississippi to 
 General Cauby, May 14th ; and, on the 
 26th of the same month, Gen. Kirby Smith 
 surrendered his entire command, west of 
 the Mississippi, to the same officer. On 
 the 14th of April, just four years from 
 the memorable bombardment and evacua- 
 tion, the flag of the United States was 
 planted again upon Fort Sumter, under 
 the orders of the president, by the hands 
 of General Anderson, its commander in 
 April, 1861. 
 
 The close of this mighty struggle, assur- 
 ing the world of the continued nationality 
 of the American Union, filled the land 
 with such transports and demonstrations 
 of joy as were never before known among 
 any people ; and the laurels of the nation 
 covered the brow of GRANT, the hero of 
 might}' battles the Conqueror of Peace. 
 By special act of congress, the full and 
 supreme rank of General a title never 
 worn by a United States commander since 
 the days of the illustrious Washington, 
 was revived and conferred upon Grant; 
 and, as the highest honor in the gift of 
 his countrymen, he was in 18G9 transfer- 
 red from the command of the army to the 
 exalted position of President of the United 
 States, in which station he remained eight 
 years. 
 
 One event, in especial, among the clus- 
 ter just named in connection with the 
 closing scenes of the Great Conflict, de- 
 serves more than a passing mention here, 
 namely, the He-possession of Fort Sumter, 
 and the restoration to its original place on 
 that historic spot, by General Anderson, nf 
 the identical flag which, after an honora- 
 ble and gallant defense, he was compelled 
 to lower in April, 1861. 
 
 This ceremony of re-occupation took 
 place, as ordered by President Lincoln, on 
 Friday, April 14th, 1865, in presence of 
 several thousands of spectators. Among 
 the company were Generals Giilmore, Dix, 
 Washburne, Doubleday, Anderson, Dela- 
 field, Grover, Hatch, and Saxton, Rev. 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher, William Lloyd 
 Garrison, George Thompson, Assistant Sec- 
 retary Fox, of the Navy Department, 
 Professor Davis, and some two hundred 
 officers of the navy. The spectators were 
 convej'ed from Charleston to the fort by 
 steamers, and the ceremonies were ushered 
 in at noon with a song and chorus entitled 
 ' Victory at Last.' 
 
 Prayer was now offered by Rev. Mat- 
 thias Harris, chaplain United States Army, 
 who made the prayer at the raising of 
 the flag when Major Anderson suddenly 
 removed his command from Fort Moultrie 
 to Fort Sumter, December 27th, 1860. 
 Rev. Dr. Storrs, of Brooklyn, then read 
 selections of scripture, after which, Adju- 
 tant-General Townsend read Major And"r- 
 son's dispatch, dated steamship Baltic, on 
 Sandy Hook, April 18th, 1861, announcing 
 the fall of Fort Sumter. 
 
 Major-General Anderson and Sergeant 
 Hart then stepped forward on the platform 
 and unfurled the glorious old banner, amid 
 the deafening cheers of the assemblage. 
 As they raised the flag, with an evergreen 
 wreath attached, the occupants on the 
 stage all joined in taking hold of the hal- 
 yards. The scene of rejoicing that fol- 
 lowed, as the flag reached the top of the 
 staff, was indescribable. The enthusiasm 
 was unbounded. There was a simultane- 
 ous rising, cheering, and waving of hats 
 and handkerchiefs, for fully fifteen minutes. 
 As the starry emblem floated out grace- 
 fully to the strong breeze, the joyful dem- 
 onstrations were repeated, which were 
 responded to by music from the bauds, a 
 salute of one hundred guns at Fort Sumter, 
 and a national salute from every fort and 
 battery that fired upon Sumter in April, 
 1861. When this was over, General Ander- 
 son came forward and said 
 
 " I am here, friends and fellow-citizens, 
 and brother soldiers, to perform an act of 
 duty which is dear to my heart, and which 
 all of you present appreciate and feel. Did 
 I listen to the promptings of my own 
 heart, I would not attempt to speak ; but 
 I have been desired by the secretary of 
 war to make a few remarks. By the con- 
 
616 
 
 FALL OF RICHMOND. 
 
 siderate appointment of the honored secre- 
 tary of war to fulfill the cherished wish of 
 my heart through four long years of bloody 
 war to restore to its proper place this 
 very flag which floated here during peace, 
 before the first act of this cruel rebellion 
 I thank God I have lived to see this 
 day, to be here to perform this, perhaps 
 the last act of duty to my country in this 
 life. My heart is filled with gratitude to 
 Almighty God for the signal blessings he 
 has given us blessings beyond number. 
 May all the world proclaim ' Glory to God 
 
 in the highest ; on earth, peace and good 
 will toward men.' " 
 
 The <Star Spangled Banner' was then 
 sung by the whole audience, with great 
 feeling and effect; after which, Eev. 
 Henry Ward Beecher delivered a com- 
 memorative oration of great eloquence and 
 power. The doxology, with devotional 
 services, closed the public exercises of the 
 day ; and, with cheers for President Lin- 
 coin, the old Flag, the Union, Generals 
 Grant, Sherman, and others, the vast inul 
 titude separated. 
 
LXXIV. 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, AT FORD'S 
 
 THEATER, WASHINGTON, BY J. WILKES 
 
 BOOTH. 1865. 
 
 Conspiracy to Murder, Simultaneously, all the Chief Officers of tlie Government The Moat Exalted 
 and Beloved of Mortal Rulers Falls a Victim. A Universal Wail of Anguish and Lamentation 
 Poured Forth from the National Heart Darkest Page in the History of the Country. Funeral Cor- 
 tege Through Fifteen States. Tragical Fate of the Conspirators. Object of this Most Infamous of 
 Crimes Singular Time of its Perpetration. Virtual End of the Great Civil War. Dawn of Peace : 
 Universal Joy. President Lincoln's Happy Frame of Mind. How He Passed His Last Day. Con- 
 versations on the Evening of April 14th. Makes an Engagement for the Morrow Last Time He 
 Signed His Name. Reluctantly Goes to the Theater. Arrives Late : Immense Audience. Plans and 
 Movements of Booth, the Assassin. The Fatal Shot : A Tragedy of Horrors Removal of the Presi- 
 dent to a Private House. Speechless and Unconscious to the End Death-Bed Scenes and Incidents. 
 The Nation Stunned at the Appalling News. Its Reception at the South, and by General Lee. 
 
 A Continent in Tears and Mourning. Most 
 Imposing Obsequies Ever Known. Booth's Swift 
 and Bloody End. Trial of His Male and Female 
 Accomplices. 
 
 Mourn ye for him? let htm be regarded 
 AB the most noble corse that ever herald 
 Did follow to hi> urn." 
 
 , E VIEWING the great procession of events 
 which distinguish the ninety years cov- 
 ered hy our national existence, up to the 
 present time, there is, confessedly, none 
 of the many during that period, which 
 shows so dark and terrible a page, none which so paralyzed the heart of the nation, or 
 sent such a thrill of agony through the four continents of the globe, causing world-wide 
 sorrow and lamentation, as the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, president of the 
 United States, by John Wilkes Booth, at Ford's Theater, in the capital of the nation, 
 on the night of April 14th, 1865. And this bloody deed was but one act in the diabol- 
 ical conspiracy which contemplated the simultaneous murder of the chief officers of 
 state, at the federal capital, to the end that panic might there seize upon the govern- 
 meut and nation, and treason and anarchy assert their sway over a republic in ruins. 
 
 And yet, the time chosen for this most appalling conspiracy was that which was 
 marked by the virtual close of the great war which for four long years had filled the 
 land with carnage and death ; the prowess of General Grant had shattered the plans of 
 the ablest military chieftains of the south ; General Sherman had consummated his 
 grand march from Atlanta to Savannah, and thence through South Carolina ; all the 
 
 MR. LINCOLN'S EARLV HOME. 
 
6i8 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 chief cities of the south were occupied by 
 the union forces ; Lee had surrendered 
 his sword, and President Lincoln had just 
 visited the city of Richmond, so recently 
 the confederate stronghold ; and Jefferson 
 Davis was a fugitive, who had then barely 
 escaped capture. The demonstrations of 
 joy at the now certain conclusion of hostil- 
 ities, and the dawn of peace, were univer- 
 sal ; and by no one, in all the land, was 
 this joy shared so fully as by President 
 Lincoln. 
 
 Of the president's happy frame of mind, 
 now that victory had everywhere crowned 
 the federal arms, and he was entering on 
 
 FOKD'8 THtATEK. IX WASHINGTON. 
 
 his second presidential term under the 
 auspices of prospective peace, something 
 may be judged by the incidents repre- 
 sented to have transpired in connection 
 with his private and personal intercourse, 
 during the last day of his life. On the 
 morning of that fatal day, Captain Robert 
 Lincoln, son of the president, and who had 
 just returned from the capitulation of Gen- 
 eral Lee, breakfasted with his father, and 
 the president passed a happy hour listen- 
 ing to all the details. While thus at 
 breakfast, he heard that Speaker Colfax 
 was in the house, and sent word that he 
 wished to see him immediately in the 
 
 reception room. He conversed with him 
 nearly an hour, on his future policy as to 
 the south, which he was about to submit 
 to the cabinet. Afterwards he had an 
 interview with Mr. Hale, minister to Spain, 
 and with several senators and representa- 
 tives. At eleven o'clock, the cabinet and 
 General Grant met with him, and, in one 
 of the most important and satisfactory 
 cabinet sessions held since his first inau- 
 guration, the future policy of the adminis- 
 tration was harmoniously and unanimously 
 agreed on, Secretary Stanton remarking 
 that he felt that the government was 
 stronger than at any previous period since 
 the rebellion commenced. Turning to 
 General Grant, Mr. Lincoln asked him if 
 he had heard from General Sherman. 
 General Grant replied that he had not, but 
 was in hourly expectation of receiving dis- 
 patches from him announcing the sur- 
 render of Johnston. The president re- 
 plied : 
 
 " Well, you will hear very soon, and the 
 news will be important." 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " inquired 
 General Grant, somewhat in a curious 
 mood. 
 
 " Because," said Mr. Lincoln, " I had a 
 dream, last night, and, ever since the war 
 began, I have invariably had the same 
 dream before any very important military 
 event has occurred." He then instanced 
 Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg, etc., and 
 said that before each of those events he 
 had had the same dream, and, turning to 
 Secretary Welles, continued, "It is in 
 your line, too, Mr. Welles. The dream is, 
 that I saw a ship sailing very rapidly, and 
 I am sure that it portends some important 
 national event." 
 
 In the afternoon, the president had a 
 long and pleasant interview with General 
 Oglesby, Senator Yates, and other leading 
 citizens of Illinois. 
 
 At about half-past seven o'clock in the 
 evening, Hon. George Ashmun, of Massa- 
 chusetts, who presided over the Chicago 
 Convention in 1860, called at the White 
 House, and was ushered into the parlor, 
 where Mr. Colfax was seated, waiting for 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 619 
 
 an interview with the president, on busi- 
 ness which had a bearing on his proposed 
 overland trip. A few moments elapsed, 
 when President Lincoln entered the room, 
 and engaged in conversation upon various 
 matters, appearing to be in a very happy 
 and jovial frame of mind. He spoke of 
 his visit to Richmond, and when they 
 stated that there was much uneasiness at 
 the north while he was in that city, for 
 fear that he might be shot, he replied, 
 jocularly, that he would have been alarmed 
 himself if any other person had been pres- 
 ident and gone there, but that personally 
 he did not feel any danger whatever. 
 Conversing on a matter of business with 
 Mr. Ashmun, he made a remark that he 
 saw Mr. Ashmun was surprised at, and, 
 though not very important, he immediately 
 said, with his well-known kindness of 
 heart, 
 
 "You did not understand me, Ashmun. 
 I did not mean what you inferred, and I 
 take it all back and apologize for it." 
 
 Mr. Ashmun desiring to see him again, 
 and there being no time to attend to it 
 then, the president took out a card, and 
 placing it on his knee, wrote as follows : 
 
 " Allow Mr. Ashmun and friend to come 
 to me at nine A. M., to-niorrow. 
 
 April 14, '65. A. Lincoln." 
 
 These were the last words that he 
 penned. It was the last time that he 
 signed his name to any order, document or 
 message. The last words written by him 
 were thus making an engagement for the 
 morrow an engagement which he was not 
 allowed to meet. Before the hour had 
 arrived he was no more. After signing 
 the card, he said, humorously, to Mr. 
 Colfax, 
 
 "Mr. Sumner has the gavel of the Con- 
 federate Congress, which he got at Rich- 
 mond, to hand to the secretary of war ; but 
 I insisted then that he must give it to you, 
 and you tell him for me to hand it over." 
 
 Mr. Ashmun here pleasantly alluded to 
 the gavel which he himself still had the 
 same one he had used when presiding over 
 the Chicago Nominating Convention of 
 1860. 
 
 President Lincoln finally stated that he 
 must go (o the theater, and, saying, ' You 
 are going with Mrs. Lincoln and me to the 
 theater, I hope," warmly pressed Speaker 
 Colfax and Mr. Ashmun to accompany 
 them, but they excused themselves on the 
 score of previous engagements. It was 
 now half an hour after the time when they 
 had intended to start, and they spoke 
 about waiting half an, hour longer, the 
 president going with reluctance, as Gen- 
 eral Grant had that evening gone north, 
 and Mr. Lincoln did not wish the people 
 to be disappointed, it having been an- 
 nounced in the afternoon papers that the 
 president, Mrs. Lincolnj and General 
 Grant, would attend the theater that even- 
 ing, to witness the representation of the 
 " American Cousin." At the door, Mr. 
 Lincoln stopped and said, 
 
 " Colfax, do not forget to tell the people 
 in the mining regions, as you pass through 
 them, what I told you this morning about 
 the development when peace comes, and I 
 will telegraph you at San Francisco." 
 
 Starting for the carriage, Mrs. Lincoln 
 took the arm of Mr. Ashmun, and the 
 president and Mr. Colfax walked together. 
 As soon as the president and Mrs. Lincoln 
 were seated in the carriage, Mrs. Lincoln 
 gave orders to the coachman to drive 
 around to Senator Harris's residence, for 
 Miss Harris. As the carriage rolled 
 away, they both said '' Good-by, Good- 
 by," to Messrs. Ashmun and Colfax. A 
 few moments later, and the presidential 
 party of four persons, namely, the presi- 
 dent and Mrs. Lincoln, Miss Harris, and 
 Major Rathbone, arrived at the theater 
 and entered the front and left-hand upper 
 private box. 
 
 The deeply-laid plan of Booth to murder 
 the president was soon to culminate in 
 horrid and fatal execution. According to 
 the very reliable account given by the 
 Hon. H. J. Raymond, in his biography of 
 the martyred president, and in which 
 account there is exhibited the most pains- 
 taking synopsis of the accumulated evi- 
 dence concerning Booth's movements, the 
 murderer made his appearance at fifteen 
 
(J20 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 minutes after ten, passed along the pas- 
 sage behind the spectators in the dress- 
 circle, showed a card to the president's 
 messenger, and stood for two or three min- 
 utes looking down upon the stage and the 
 orchestra below. He then entered the 
 vestibule of the president's box, closed the 
 door behind him, and fastened it by brac- 
 ing a short plank against it from the wall, 
 so that it could not be opened from the 
 outside. He then drew a small silver- 
 mounted Derringer pistol, which he car- 
 ried in his right hand, holding a long 
 double-edged dagger in his left. All in 
 the box were intent on the proceedings 
 upon the stage; but President Lincoln 
 was leaning forward, holding aside the 
 curtain of the box with his left hand, and 
 looking, with his head slightly turned, 
 towards the audience. Booth stepped 
 within the inner door into the box, directly 
 behind the president, and, holding the 
 
 pistol just over the back of the 
 chair in which he sat, shot him 
 through the back of the head. 
 Mr. Lincoln's head fell slightly forward, 
 and his eyes closed, but in every other 
 respect his attitude remained unchanged. 
 The report of the pistol startled those 
 in the box, and Major Eathbone, turn- 
 ing his eyes from the stage, saw, through 
 the smoke that filled the box, a man 
 standing between him and the president. 
 He instantly sprang towards him and 
 seized him ; but Booth wrested himself 
 from his grasp, and, dropping the pis- 
 tol, struck at him with the dagger, in- 
 flicting a severe wound upon his left 
 arm, near the shoulder. Booth then 
 rushed to the front of the box, shouted 
 " Sic semper tyrannis ! " put his hand 
 upon the railing in front of the box, and 
 leaped over it upon the stage below. As 
 he went over, his spur caught in the flag 
 which draped the front, and he fell; but 
 recovering himself immediately, he rose, 
 brandished the dagger, and facing the 
 audience, shouted, " The South is 
 avenged!" He then rushed across the 
 stage towards the passage which led to the 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PEESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 621 
 
 stage door in the rear of the theater. An 
 actor named Hawke was the only person 
 on the stage when Booth leaped upon it, 
 and seeing Bootli coining towards him 
 with the dagger ill his hand, he ran off the 
 stage and up a flight of stairs. Booth ran 
 through the passage-way beside the scenes, 
 meeting one or two persons only, whom he 
 struck from his path, went out at the door 
 which stood open, and which he closed 
 behind him, and mounting, a horse which 
 he had brought there, and which a lad was 
 holding for him, he rode over the Anacosta 
 bridge, across the east branch of the Poto- 
 mac, safely escaping to Lower Maryland. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the scene 
 which transpired in that box and in that 
 vast audience, on the discovery that the 
 president was shot. Suffice it to say, that 
 the surgeon-general and other physicians 
 were immediately summoned, and their 
 skill exhausted in efforts to restore him to 
 consciousness. An examination of his 
 wounds, however, showed that no hopes 
 could be given that his life would be 
 spared. 
 
 Preparations were at once made to re- 
 move him, and lie was conveyed to a house 
 immediately opposite, and there placed 
 upon a bed, the only evidence of life being 
 
 HOUSE WHERE LISCOLS DIED. 
 
 an occasional nervous twitching of the 
 hand and heavy breathing. At about half- 
 past eleven, the motion of the muscles of 
 his face indicated as if he were trying to 
 speak, but doubtless it was merely muscu- 
 lar. His eyes protruded from their sock- 
 ets and were suffused with blood. 
 
 At his bedside were the secretaries of 
 war, the navy and the interior ; the post- 
 master-general and attorney-general ; Sen- 
 ator Simmer; General Todd, cousin to 
 Mrs. Lincoln ; Major Hay, Mr. M. B. 
 Field, General Halleck, General Meigs, 
 Rev. Doctor Gurley, the physicians, and a 
 few other persons. All were bathed in 
 tears; and Secretary Stanton, when in- 
 formed by Surgeon-General Barnes, that 
 the president could not live until morning, 
 exclaimed, "Oh, no, General; no no;" 
 and with an impulse, natural as it was 
 unaffected, immediately sat down and 
 wept like a child. Senator Sumner was 
 seated at the right of the president, near 
 the head, holding the right hand of the 
 president in his own ; he was sobbing like 
 a woman, with his head bowed down 
 almost upon the pillow of the bed. In an 
 adjoining room were Mrs. Lincoln, and 
 several others. 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln was in a state of great 
 excitement and agony, wringing her hands 
 and exclaiming, " Why did he not shoot 
 me, instead of my husband ! I have tried 
 to be so careful of him, fearing something 
 would happen, and his life seemed to be 
 more precious now than ever. I must go 
 with him ! " and other expressions of like 
 character. She was constantly going to 
 and from the bedside of the president, say- 
 ing in utter grief, "How can it be so!" 
 The scene was heart-rending. Captain 
 Robert Lincoln bore himself with great 
 firmness, and constantly endeavored to 
 assuage the grief of his mother by telling 
 her to put her trust in God and all would 
 be well. Occasionally, however, being 
 entirely overcome, he would retire by him- 
 self and give vent to most piteous lamen- 
 tations. 
 
 At four o'clock, the symptoms of restless- 
 ness returned, and at six the premonitions 
 of dissolution set in. His face, which had 
 been quite pale, began to assume a waxen 
 transparency, the-j^iw slowly fell, and the 
 teeth became exposed. About a quarter 
 of an hour before the president died, his 
 breathing became very difficult, and in 
 many instances seemed to have entirely 
 
622 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 ceased. He would again rally and breathe 
 with so great difficulty as to be heard in 
 almost every part of the house. Mrs. 
 Lincoln took her last leave of him about 
 twenty minutes before he expired, and was 
 sitting in the adjoining room when it was 
 announced to her that he was dead. 
 When this announcement was made, she 
 exclaimed, " Oh ! why did you not tell me 
 that he was dying ! " 
 
 The surgeons and the members of the 
 cabinet, Senator Sumner, Captain Eobert 
 Lincoln, General Todd, Mr. Field, and 
 one or two more, were standing at his 
 bed-side when he breathed his last. Rob- 
 
 ert Lincoln was resting himself tenderly 
 upon the arm of Senator Sumner, the 
 mutual embrace of the two having all the 
 affectionateness of father and son. The 
 surgeons were sitting upon the side and 
 foot of the bed, holding the president's 
 hands, and with their watches observing 
 the slow declension of the pulse, and 
 watching the ebbing out of the vital spirit. 
 
 He lingered longer than was expected ; 
 until, at twenty-two minutes past seven 
 o'clock, in the morning, April fifteenth, 
 the physician said, with solemn accent and 
 overpowering emotion, 
 
 " He is gone ; he is dead." 
 
 Such was the deep stillness, in that 
 awful presence, at the fatal announcement, 
 
 that for the space of five minutes the tick- 
 ing of the watches could be distinctly 
 heard. All stood transfixed in their posi- 
 tions, speechless, breathless, around the 
 dead body of that great and good man. 
 At length the secretary of war broke the 
 silence and said to Rev. Doctor Gurley, 
 " Doctor, will you say anything ? " He 
 replied, " I will speak to God." " Do it 
 just now," responded the secretary. And 
 : there, by the side of the fallen chief, a fer- 
 vent prayer was offered up, at the close of 
 which there arose from the lips of the 
 entire company a fervid and spontaneous 
 " Amen." 
 
 No adequate portrayal can be 
 given of the effect upon the 
 public mind, of the murder of 
 the president, as the news was 
 borne along the telegraphic 
 wires, from one end of the land 
 to the other. Stunned, bewil- 
 dered, incredulous, at first, the 
 tears and wailing of a whole 
 nation were soon manifest 
 deep answering unto deep to 
 an extent and degree never be- 
 fore witnessed since the death 
 of Washington. A pang of hor- 
 ror seized every heart, in this 
 darkest hour of the country's 
 history, the emblems of mourn- 
 ing shrouded the land in very 
 darkness its streets, its habita- 
 tions, its churches, its halls of justice, its 
 capitols, funeral pageants everywhere 
 hushed the noise of business, and the 
 solemn voice of eulogy and lamentation, 
 and the sound of dirge and requiem, filled 
 the air, from the mountains of the north 
 to the prairies and valleys of the west and 
 the golden slopes of the far-off Pacific. 
 
 If, in the blind and fatal mistake of 
 sectional antagonism or partisan bitterness, 
 this most infamous of human crimes found 
 apologists, there were, at least, some nota- 
 ble exceptions to this feeling. Thus, 
 when the tidings reached Richmond, Gen- 
 eral Lee at first refused to hear the details 
 of the horrid deed, from the two gentlemen 
 who waited unon him on Sunday night 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PEESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 623 
 
 with the particulars. He said, that when 
 he dispossessed himself of the command of 
 the confederate forces, he kept in view Pres- 
 ident Lincoln's benignity, and surrendered 
 as much to the latter's goodness as to 
 Grant's artillery. The general said that 
 he regretted Mr. Lincoln's death as much 
 as any man in the north, and believed him 
 to be the epitome of magnanimity and good 
 faith. 
 
 On the nineteenth of April, the New 
 World witnessed the most imposing fu- 
 neral ceremonies that ever took place this 
 side of the Atlantic, or perhaps in the 
 whole world. The body, which had been 
 embalmed, lay in state in the Green Room 
 of the White House, the coffin resting 
 upon a magnificent catafalque, and the 
 
 The description given by Holland, of 
 the procession in the federal metropolis, 
 will apply, in its main features, to all the 
 corteges in the various cities through 
 which the honored remains passed. "Ev- 
 ery piazza, window, verandah and house- 
 top, was filled with eager but mournful 
 faces. Funereal music filled the sweet 
 spring air ; and this was the only sound, 
 except the measured tread of feet, and the 
 slow roll of wheels upon the pavement. 
 As the hearse, drawn by six gray horses, 
 reached the capitol grounds, the bands 
 burst forth in a requiem, and were an- 
 swered by minute-guns from the fortifica- 
 tions. The body of the president was 
 borne into the rotunda, where Doctor Gur- 
 ley completed the religious exercises of the 
 
 USCOLX'8 RI 
 
 grand room overflowing with flowers which 
 had poured in from innumerable sources. 
 The public exercises took place in the East 
 Boom, being conducted by Rev. Drs. Hall, 
 Gurley, and Gray, and Bishop Simpson. 
 The throng of dignitaries, embracing rep- 
 resentatives of the army and navy, sena- 
 tors and members of congress, judges, for- 
 eign ambassadors, governors of the states, 
 and other high officials, was such as had 
 never before been gathered together in the 
 executive mansion. From the latter place, 
 the body of the illustrious deceased was 
 conveyed, along Pennsylvania Avenue, to 
 the great rotunda of the nation's capitol, 
 thence to be carried to their last resting- 
 place in Oak Ridge cemetery, Springfield, 
 III. 
 
 occasion. Here the remains rested, ex- 
 posed to public view, but guarded by sol- 
 diery, until the next day. Thousands 
 who had no other opportunity to take their 
 farewell of the beloved dust thronged the 
 capitol all night. The procession which 
 moved from the White House, April 19th, 
 was but the beginning of a pageant that 
 displayed its marvelous numbers and its 
 ever-varying forms, through country, and 
 village, and city, winding across the terri- 
 tories of vast states, along a track of more 
 than fifteen hundred miles." During this 
 period, millions gazed upon the loved 
 features of the departed president. 
 
 It was on the twenty-first of April, that 
 the remains were started upon their mourn- 
 ful journey to Springfield, 111. They were 
 
024 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PEESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 taken to that city by the route he pursued 
 while on his way from his western home to 
 be inaugurated in Washington. Balti- 
 more, Harrisburg, Philadelphia, New York, 
 Albany, Buffalo, Cleveland, Columbus, In- 
 dianapolis, and Chicago, were visited in 
 the order named, and at each place, as 
 well as all along the route, there were 
 most extraordinary demonstrations of re- 
 spect and sorrow. Millions of people 
 manifested, by every possible means and 
 token, their deep sense of the public loss, 
 and their appreciation of the exalted vir- 
 tues which adorned the life of Abraham 
 Lincoln. All classes, without distinction 
 of politics or creeds, spontaneously united 
 in the posthumous honors. 
 
 The funeral at Springfield was on a 
 beautiful May day. At noon, the remains 
 were brought from the state house, in the 
 same hearse which had borne the bodies 
 
 SERGEJLXT BOSTON COBBETT. 
 
 f General Lyon and Thomas H. Benton. 
 The hearse was surmounted by a crown of 
 flowers. From the portico, as the proces- 
 sion advanced, a vast chorus of voices filled 
 the air with the strains of "Children of 
 the Heavenly King " The ceremonies 
 were under the immediate direction of 
 General Hooker. A dirge was sung ; and 
 after the reading of scripture, a prayer, 
 and a hymn, the president's second inau- 
 gural address was read. A dirge suc- 
 ceeded, after which Bishop Simpson de- 
 livered the funeral oration before the great 
 audience there assembled, and from the 
 midst of which went forth many an ejacu- 
 lation of uncontrollable sorrow. 
 
 AND THE ILLUSTRIOUS AND BELOVED 
 PRESIDENT, SO RECENTLY THE MOST EX- 
 ALTED OF MORTAL RULERS, WAS BURIED 
 IN HIS OWN TOMB. 
 
 But before the noble departed had been 
 consigned, amidst the tears and lamenta- 
 tions of a whole continent, to the earth's 
 bosom, John Wilkes Booth, the perpetra- 
 tor of the greatest of modern crimes, had 
 met his doom, and most of his co-conspira- 
 tors Atzerodt, Doctor Mudd, Payne, Har- 
 old, Mrs. Surratt, O'Laughlin, Arnold, and 
 Spangler were in the clutches of the law. 
 It was Payne, who, at the same time that 
 Booth's bullet sped its fatal course, en- 
 acted his part of the conspiracy in which 
 Booth was chief, by entering the sick 
 chamber of Secretary Seward, stabbing 
 him in the throat, and then escaping. It 
 was at Mrs. Surratt's house that the con- 
 spirators hr.d met and laid their plans. 
 As alleged, Atzerodt was to have taken the 
 life of Vice-President Johnson. O'Laugh- 
 lin was assigned to murder General Grant 
 or Secretary Stanton. Harold was the 
 body companion of Booth. Spangler as- 
 sisted in Booth's escape from the theater. 
 Mudd had held interviews with Booth and 
 John H. Surratt, son of Mrs. Surratt 
 named above, and had also attended to 
 Booth's leg, crippled by his getting entan- 
 gled with the flag that decorated the presi- 
 dent's box. Arnold was originally in the 
 plot, but quarreled, and left it. Booth was 
 but twenty-seven years old at the time of 
 his crime, by profession an actor, long 
 known for his dissipated habits, and for his 
 ardent devotion to the southern cause. 
 He was born in Harford county, Md., his 
 father being the once celebrated actor, 
 Junius Brutus Booth, and his brother 
 being Edwin Booth, also famous on the 
 stage. 
 
 Immediately after the murder, Colonel 
 Baker, of the detective service, set out to 
 find Booth's hiding-place. He soon sue. 
 ceeded in capturing Atzerodt and Mudd. 
 A negro was then arrested, who said he 
 had seen Booth and another man cross the 
 Potomac in a fishing boat. Colonel Baker 
 sent to General Hancock for twenty-fire 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 mounted men to aid him in the pursuit. 
 These were sent under Lieutenant Dough- 
 erty, and Baker placed them under the 
 control of Lieutenant-Colonel Conger, and 
 of his cousin, Lieutenant L. B. Baker, and 
 dispatched them to Belle Plain, with 
 orders to scour the country about Port 
 Royal. 
 
 At Port Eoyal they found one Kollins, 
 a fisherman, who referred them to a negro 
 named Lucas as having driven two men a 
 short distance toward Bowling Green, in a 
 wagon. These men perfectly answered 
 the description of Booth and Harcld. 
 Some disbanded men, it was learned, be- 
 longing to Mosby's command, took Booth 
 under their protection on the way to 
 Bowling Green, a small court-house town 
 in Caroline county. To that place, Baker 
 and his party immediately proceeded, and 
 there found the captain of the confederate 
 cavalry, from whom they extorted a state- 
 ment of Booth's whereabouts ; this was at 
 the house of a Mr. Garrett, which they had 
 already passed. 
 
 Eeturning with the captain for a guide, 
 the worn-out command halted at Garrett's 
 gate, at two o'clock on the morning of 
 April 26th. Without noise, the house 
 was surrounded, and Baker went up to 
 the kitchen door at the side, and rapped. 
 An old man in half undress undrew the 
 bolts, and had scarcely opened the door 
 before Baker had him by the throat with 
 a pistol at his ear, and asked, " Where are 
 the men who stay with you ? " Under 
 the menace of instant death, the old man 
 seemed paralyzed, but at Baker's order lit 
 a candle. The question was then repeated. 
 "Thty are gone," replied the old man. 
 Soon a. young boy appeared, and told 
 Baker the men he sought were in the 
 barn. The barn was then surrounded. 
 Baker and Conger went to the door. The 
 former called out, signifying his intention 
 to have a surrender on the part of the men 
 inside, or else to fire the barn, and shoot 
 them on the spot. The young boy was 
 sent in to receive their arms. To the 
 boy's message Booth answered with a 
 curse, accusing the boy of having betrayed 
 
 40 
 
 him. The boy then came out, and Baker 
 repeated his demand, giving Booth five 
 minutes to make up his mind. Booth 
 replied 
 
 " Who are you, and what do you want 
 with us ? " 
 
 " We want you to deliver up your arms 
 and become our prisoners," said Baker. 
 
 " But who are you ? " 
 
 " That makes no difference. We know 
 who you are, and we want you. We have 
 here fifty men with carbines and pistols. 
 You cannot escape." 
 
 " Captain," said Booth, after a pause, 
 " this is a hard case, I swear. Perhaps I 
 am being taken by my own friends." 
 
 He then asked time to consider, which 
 was granted. After a little interval, 
 Baker threatened to fire the barn, if they 
 did not come out. Booth replied that he 
 was a cripple, and begged a chance for his 
 life, declaring that he would fight them 
 all at so many yards apace, and that he 
 would never be taken alive. Baker an- 
 swered that he did not come there to fight 
 but to capture him, and again threatened 
 to fire the barn. 
 
 "Well, then, my brave toys," said 
 Booth, " prepare a stretcher for me." 
 
 Harold now wanted to surrender, and, 
 in the midst of a shower of imprecations 
 from Booth, did so. Conger then set fire 
 to the barn. 
 
 The blaze lit up the black recesses of 
 the great barn till every wasp's nest and 
 every cobweb in the roof was visible, fling- 
 ing streaks of red and violet across the 
 tumbled farm-gear in the corner, and bath- 
 ing the murderer's retreat in a vivid illu- 
 mination, and, while in bold outline his 
 figure stood revealed, they rose like an 
 impenetrable wall to guard from sight the 
 dreadful enemy who lit them. Behind the 
 blaze, with his eye to a crack, Conger saw 
 Wilkes Booth standing upright upon a 
 crutch. At the gleam of fire, Booth 
 dropped his crutch and carbine, and on 
 both hands crept up to the spot to espy 
 the incendiary and shoot him dead. His 
 eyes were lustrous as with fever, and 
 swelled and rolled in terrible anxiety, 
 
626 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 while his teeth were fixed, and he wore 
 the expression of one in the calmness pre- 
 ceding frenzy. In vain he peered, with 
 vengeance in his look ; the blaze that 
 made him visible concealed his pursuers. 
 A second he turned glaring at the fire, as 
 if to leap upon and extinguish it, but the 
 flames had made such headway that this 
 was a futile impulse, and he dismissed it. 
 Aa calmly as upon the battle-field a vet- 
 
 bett fired through a crevice and shot Booth 
 in the neck. 
 
 They then took up the wounded man 
 and carried him out on the grass, a little 
 way from the door, beneath a locust tree. 
 Conger went back to the barn, to see if 
 the fire could be put out, but found it 
 could not, and returned to where Booth 
 was lying. Before this (sa/s Lieutenant 
 Conger, in his official account), I supposed 
 
 BURIAL PLACE OP LINCOLN. 
 
 eran stands amidst the hail of ball and 
 shell and plunging iron, Booth turned at 
 a man's stride and pushed for the door, 
 weapon in poise, and the last resolve of 
 death despair set on his high, bloodless 
 forehead. 
 
 At this instant, Sergeant Boston Cor- 
 
 him to be dead ; he had all the appearance 
 of a dead man ; but when I came back, his 
 eyes and mouth were moving. I called 
 immediately for water, and put some on 
 his face. He seemed to revive, and at- 
 tempted to speak. I put my ear down to 
 his mouth, and heard him say, "Tell my 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 627 
 
 mother I died for my country." I re- 
 peated the words to him, and said, "Is 
 that what you would say ? " He said 
 " Yes." They carried him to the porch of 
 Qarrett's house, and laid him on a straw 
 bed or tick. At that time he revived con- 
 siderably, and could talk in a whisper, so 
 as to be intelligibly understood. He could 
 not speak above a whisper. He wanted 
 water; I gave it to him. He wanted to 
 turn on his face ; I said he couldn't lie in 
 that position. He wanted to be turned on 
 his side ; we turned him on his side three 
 times, but he could not lie with any com- 
 fort, and asked immediately to be turned 
 back. He asked me to put my hand on 
 his throat, and press down, which I did. 
 He said " Harder ; " I pressed as hard as 
 I thought necessary. He made a very 
 strong exertion to cough, but was unable 
 to do so. I suppose he thought there was 
 blood in his throat. I asked him to put 
 out his tongue, which he did. I said, 
 "There is no blood in your throat." He 
 repeated several times, " Kill me ! kill 
 me ! " I replied, " I do not want to kill 
 you. I want you to get well." 
 
 When the doctor arrived, whom Conger 
 had sent for, Booth asked to have his 
 hands raised and shown him. When this 
 was done, he muttered " Useless, useless ! " 
 These were his last words. He died about 
 four hours after being shot. 
 
 The solemn trial of the other accom- 
 plices in this great crime of conspiracy 
 and murder, soon took place in the city of 
 Washington, before a military commission 
 consisting of Generals Hunter, Howe, 
 Harris, Wallace, Kautz, Foster, Ekin ; 
 Colonels Clendenin, Tompkins, and Bur- 
 nett; Judges Bingham and Holt. The 
 last named held the position of Judge- 
 Advocate-General of the court, and Major- 
 General Hunter officiated as president. 
 
 The charges upon which Payne was 
 arrested and tried were, that he was a 
 confederate of Booth in the general con- 
 spiracy to kill the president, vice-president, 
 General Grant, and Secretary Seward, so 
 as thus to deprive the army and navy of a 
 constitutional commander-in-chief, and to 
 
 prevent a lawful election of president and 
 vice-president by the vacancy thus made 
 in the office of secretary of state, the duty 
 of the latter officer being, in case of the 
 death of the president and vice-president, 
 to cause an election to be held for presi- 
 dential electors. The arraignment of all 
 the parties was upon this general charge, 
 with specifications in each case. 
 
 Against Payne, the specification was 
 that of attempting to kill Secretary Sew- 
 ard. Presenting himself at the door of 
 Mr. Seward's residence, he gained admis- 
 sion by representing that he had a pre- 
 scription from Mr. Seward's physician, 
 which he was directed to see administered, 
 and hurried up to the third-story chamber, 
 where Mr. Seward was lying sick. He 
 here discovered Mr. Frederick Seward, 
 struck him over the head, inflicting severe 
 wounds, and then rushed into the room 
 where Mr. Seward was in bed, attended by 
 a young daughter and a male nurse. The 
 assassin stabbed the latter in the lungs, 
 and then struck Secretary Seward with a 
 dagger twice in the face and twice in the 
 throat, inflicting terrible wounds. By this 
 time Major Seward, eldest son of the sec- 
 retary, and another attendant, reached the 
 room, and rushed to the rescue of the sec- 
 retary ; they were also wounded in the 
 conflict, and the assassin escaped. 
 
 Spangler, who was employed at the the- 
 ater, was tried for aiding and assisting 
 Booth to obtain an entrance to the box in 
 which President Lincoln sat in the thea- 
 ter, and for barring or obstructing the 
 door of the passage-way, so as to hinder 
 pursuit. 
 
 Atzerodt was charged with lying in wait 
 to murder Vice-President Johnson, at the 
 Kirkwood House, where the latter was 
 stopping. He took a room at that house, 
 on the morning of April 14th, and was 
 there at different times during the day and 
 evening, under suspicious circumstances. 
 Though in active co-operation with Booth 
 and his accomplices, he failed in executing 
 the part particularly delegated to him. 
 
 In the further programme of the great 
 conspiracy, O'Laughlin was to take the 
 
628 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PKESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 life of General Grant, and on this charge 
 and specification he was indicted and tried, 
 though he failed, like Atzerodt, to accom- 
 plish the bloody deed. 
 
 Mrs. Surratt was charged with having 
 "on or before the sixth day of March, 
 1865, and on divers other days and times 
 between that day and the twentieth of 
 April, 1865, received, entertained, har- 
 bored and concealed, aided and assisted " 
 the conspirators in the execution of their 
 plans. She was charged with being cog- 
 nizant of the intended crime almost from 
 its inception, becoming an active partici- 
 pant and general manager. With Doctor 
 Mudd, it was charged, she planned the 
 means and assistance for the escape of the 
 assassins, and visited Mudd at five o'clock 
 on the day of the assassination, to see that 
 certain weapons were in readiness. Booth 
 had frequent interviews at her house, 
 and was with her on the afternoon of the 
 fourteenth. 
 
 The part taken by Doctoi Mudd, in the 
 tragedy, was described in the indictment 
 as that of an accomplice. He was, it ap- 
 peared, in the confidence of Booth several 
 months prior to the assassination. In 
 January, he had an interview with John 
 H. Surratt and Booth, at the National 
 Hotel. He introduced Booth to Surratt, 
 and was visited by Booth at the Pennsyl- 
 vania House. When the assassins fled to 
 his house, he dressed Booth's wound and 
 assisted in the escape of both Booth and 
 Harold. When the officers called at his 
 
 house, soon after the assassination, he 
 denied that he knew either of the crimin- 
 als, but subsequently, after his arrest, he 
 admitted the fact of his acquaintance with 
 Booth ; both of the fugitives were well 
 cared for by him at his house. 
 
 Arnold was tried for being one of the 
 original conspirators, but it was not 
 charged that he maintained any active 
 relation to the plot at the time appointed 
 for its execution. His guilt consisted in 
 being an accomplice before the act. 
 
 Harold's complicity admitted, of course, 
 of no doubt. On the night of the assas- 
 sination he was seen at the livery stable 
 with Booth, and on various occasions he 
 was known to have held secret meetings 
 with Booth, Atzerodt, and others of the 
 conspiracy, at Mrs. Surratt's and else- 
 where. During his flight with Booth, he 
 acknowledged to confederate soldiers that 
 he and Booth had made way with the 
 president. 
 
 Atzerodt, Harold, Payne, and Mrs. Sur- 
 ratt, were found guilty of crimes deserving 
 death, and were hanged therefor on the 
 seventh of July, 1865. Arnold, O'Laugh- 
 lin, and Mudd, were sent to the Dry Tor- 
 tugas for hard labor during life ; and 
 Spangler for six years of hard labor, at the 
 same place. John H. Surratt, son of Mrs. 
 Surratt above named, and who was also 
 indicted, fled to Europe ; being discovered, 
 he was arrested and sent to Washington, 
 but, after a protracted trial by jury, es- 
 caped conviction. 
 
LXXV. 
 
 SUCCESSFUL LAYING OF THE TELEGRAPH CABLE 
 ACROSS THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. 1866. 
 
 The Old World and the New United by Instantaneous Communication. Pronounced the Grandest of 
 Human Enterprises Ten Years of Difficulty and Failure in the Mighty Task The Name of Itg 
 Indomitable Projector Crowned with Immortal Honor. Illustrations of the Power and Wonders of 
 this New-Born Agent of Civilization. Ocean Telegraphs Early Predicted First Attempt in 1857. 
 Breaking of the Wire Fresh but Abortive Trials in '68 and '65. Great Preparations for 1866. 
 Exquisite Construction of the Cable A Wealthy and Powerful Company. Cyrus W. Field, Its Mas- 
 ter Spirit. Employment of the Great Eastern. Laying the Shore End at Valentia. Rejoicing of the 
 Inhabitants Voyage of the Fleet to America. Incidents and Accidents. Intense Solicitude, Day 
 and Night A Joyous Morning! July 27th. Perfect Success from End to End. First News Dispatch, 
 Peace in Europe. Messages Between the President and Queen. Compliments to Mr. Field. His 
 Interview with Lord Clarendon. John Bright's Sparkling Tribute. Moral Uses of the Cable. 
 
 " BEAST'S CONTEST, July 27m. We tnrred here it nine o'clock, this morning. AllwelL Thnk God, the cable IB laid, and la In perfect 
 working order. CTBUS W. FIELD." 
 
 f NNECESS ARY would be the task of detailing, in this 
 place, additional to those pages already devoted to Pro- 
 fessor Morse's grand discovery, and its practical appli- 
 cation the world wide, the technical principles and 
 operations involved in the science of telegraphic com- 
 munication. 
 
 It was early declared by Professor Morse, and by other 
 i CABLE, distinguished investigators of the nature and powers of 
 the electric current, that neither the ocean itself, nor the distance to be traversed, pre- 
 sented any insuperable obstacle to the laying of submerged oceanic lines from conti- 
 nent to continent, and the confident prophecy that such lines would eventually be 
 undertaken was freely uttered and discussed in learned circles. 
 
 It was not, however, until the year 1857, that an attempt was made to stretch a tele- 
 graphic wire across the bed of the Atlantic. The cable was coiled half on board the 
 United States steamship Niagara, and half on the British steamer Agamemnon. They 
 began to lay it in mid-ocean on the 26th of June, the Niagara proceeding toward the 
 American coast, the Agamemnon toward Ireland. After the wire had three times 
 broken, the attempt was given up. The following August it was renewed on a different 
 plan. The shore-end was made fast at Valentia Bay, and the Niagara began paying 
 out on the seventh, the arrangement being that the Agamemnon should begin opera- 
 tions when the Niagara had exhausted her half of the cable. On the eleventh, after 
 three hundred and thirty-five miles had been laid, the wire broke again. The third 
 attempt was made with the same vessels in 1858. The ends of the cable were joined 
 
630 
 
 LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 in mid-ocean, July 29th, and, August 6th, 
 the two vessels arrived simultaneously at 
 their respective destinations. This cable 
 worked for a time, but the electric current 
 grew weak and finally failed altogether. 
 
 But these repeated failures, though a 
 severe disappointment to those engaged in 
 the great and costly enterprise, did not 
 destroy their faith in its feasibility, and 
 the mighty task was begun anew, advan- 
 tage being taken of whatever instruction 
 past experience could furnish or suggest. 
 
 Especial care had, it is true, been exer- 
 cised in the previous undertaking, to have 
 the construction of the cable itself as per- 
 fect as possible. It was the result of 
 many months' thought, experiment, and 
 trial. Hundreds of specimens were made, 
 comprising every variety of form, size, and 
 structure, and most severely tested as to 
 their powers and capabilities ; and the 
 result was the adoption of one which, it 
 was believed, possessed all the properties 
 required, in a far higher degree than any 
 cable that had yet been laid. Its flexibil- 
 ity was such as to make it as manageable 
 as a small line, and its strength such that 
 it would bear, in water, over six miles of 
 its own weight suspended vertically. The 
 conducting medium consisted not of one 
 single straight copper wire, but of seven 
 wires of copper of the best quality, twisted 
 round each other spirally, and capable of 
 undergoing great tension without injury. 
 This conductor was then enveloped in 
 three separate coverings of gutta percha, 
 of the best quality, forming the core of 
 the cable, round which tarred hemp was 
 wrapped, and over this, the outside cover- 
 ing, consisting of eighteen strands of the 
 best quality of iron wire, each strand 
 composed of seven distinct wires, twisted 
 spirally, in the most approved manner, by 
 machinery specially adapted to the pur- 
 pose. Such was the exquisitely constructed 
 cable used on this occasion. 
 
 Great attention was also paid to the 
 arrangement of the apparatus for paying 
 out. The machine for this purpose was 
 placed on deck in the after-part of the 
 vessel, and somewhat on the starboard side, 
 
 to be clear of the mast, etc. The cable, as 
 it came up from its enormous coils in the 
 hold, passed first through a guiding groove 
 and over a deeply grooved wheel, on to the 
 drums, each of the latter being furnished 
 with four deep grooves, each groove being 
 cut one-eighth of an inch deeper than the 
 former to allow for slack. The cable, after 
 winding round these drums, passed on 
 from the last groove over another guiding 
 wheel, to a distinct piece of machinery, 
 also standing on the deck, and half-way 
 between the brakes and the ship's stern. 
 Here a grooved wheel worked on a sliding 
 frame, furnished with weights fixed on a 
 rod, which ended in a piston, inside of a 
 cylinder, full of water. This piston, being 
 made not quite large enough to fit the 
 cylinder, the water hud room to play about 
 it, but with difficulty so that, yielding 
 freely to every alteration of pressure, it 
 could do so to none with a jerk, as the 
 piston required some little time to dislodge 
 the water from one side of it to the other, it 
 acting, in short, as a water cushion. From 
 this last piece of machinery the cable 
 passed over a wheel or sheave projecting 
 well over the stern of the ship, and so 
 down into the ocean depths. 
 
 So intelligent .and powerful an associa- 
 tion as that which had this great enter- 
 prise in charge an association composed 
 of some of the leading merchants and cap- 
 italists of England and America, guided 
 by the wonderful genius of Mr. Cyrus W. 
 Field, might well be supposed incapable 
 of yielding to defeat, and thus it was that, 
 until success finally and beyond all perad- 
 venture crowned their efforts, they con- 
 tinued their tests and trials of improved 
 machinery and cables, availing themselves 
 of every resource of science, and even 
 bringing into requisition, at last, the mag- 
 nificent conveniences of conveyance af- 
 forded by that " leviathan of the deep," the 
 steamer Great Eastern. 
 
 In this way, certain facts and principles 
 were arrived at, and demonstrated by trials 
 and expeditions conducted in accordance 
 therewith, which showed plainly what had 
 been the errors of the past, and what 
 
LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 631 
 
 should be the governing rules of future 
 operations. Among these facts and princi- 
 ples were the following : 
 
 It was proved by the expedition of 1858, 
 that a submarine telegraph cable could be 
 laid between Ireland and Newfoundland, 
 and messages transmitted. 
 
 By the expedition of 1865 when the 
 cable was lost it was demonstrated that 
 the insulation of a cable improves very 
 much after its submersion in the cold 
 deep water of the Atlantic, and that its 
 conducting power is considerably increased 
 thereby ; that the steamship .Great East- 
 ern, from her size and constant steadiness, 
 and from the control over her afforded by 
 the joint use of paddles and screw, ren- 
 dered it safe to lay an Atlantic cable in 
 any weather ; that in a depth of over two 
 miles, four attempts were made to grapple 
 *he lost cable, in three of which the cable 
 was caught by the grapnel, and in the 
 other the grapnel was fouled by the 
 chain attached to it ; that the paying- 
 out machinery used on board the Great 
 Eastern worked perfectly, and could be 
 confidently relied on for laying cables 
 across the Atlantic ; that with the im- 
 proved telegraphic instruments for long 
 submarine lines, a speed of more than 
 eight words per minute could be obtained 
 through such a cable as that sunk between 
 Ireland and Newfoundland, as the amount 
 of slack actually paid out did not exceed 
 fourteen per cent., which would have made 
 the total cable laid between Valentia and 
 Heart's Content nineteen hundred miles ; 
 that the lost Atlantic cable, though capa- 
 ble of bearing a strain of seven tons, did 
 not experience more than fourteen hun- 
 dred-weight in being paid out into the 
 deepest water of the Atlantic between 
 Ireland and Newfoundland ; that there was 
 no difficulty in mooring buoys in the deep 
 waters of the Atlantic between Ireland 
 and Newfoundland, and that two buoys 
 even, when moored by a piece of the 
 Atlantic cable itself, which had been pre- 
 viously lifted from the bottom, had ridden 
 out a gale ; that more than four nautical 
 miles of the Atlantic cable had been 
 
 recovered from a depth of over two miles, 
 and that the insulation of the gutta 
 percha covered wire was in no way what- 
 ever impaired by the depth of water 
 or the strains to which it had been sub- 
 jected by lifting and passing through 
 the hauling-in apparatus ; that the cable 
 of 1865, owing to the improvements in- 
 troduced into the manufacture of the 
 gutta percha core, was more than one 
 hundred times better insulated than cables 
 made in 1858, then considered perfect ; 
 that the electrical testing could be con- 
 ducted with such unerring certainty as to 
 enable the electricians to discover the 
 
 existence of a fault immediately after its 
 production or development, and very 
 quickly to ascertain its position in the 
 cable ; and, finally, that with a steam- 
 engine attached to the paying-out ma- 
 chinery, should a fault be discovered on 
 board whilst laying the cable, it was 
 possible to recover it before it had reached 
 the bottom of the ocean, and have it 
 repaired at once. 
 
 Still led on by that master-spirit of the 
 enterprise, Mr. Field, its friends formed 
 themselves into a new company, with a 
 large amount of capital, and the summer of 
 1866 was fixed upon for another effort, the 
 Great Eastern to be employed for the pur- 
 
632 
 
 LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH 
 
 pose. By the time (says Dr. H. M. Field, 
 the admirable historian of the enteprise,) 
 the big ship had her cargo and stores on 
 board, she was well laden. Of the cable 
 alone there were two thousand four hun- 
 dred miles, coiled in three immense tanks, 
 as the year before. Of this, seven hun- 
 dred and forty-eight miles were a part of 
 the cable of the last expedition. The 
 tanks alone, with the water in them, 
 weighed over a thousand tons ; and the 
 cable which they held, four thousand tons 
 more ; besides which she had to carry 
 eight thousand five hundred tons of coal 
 and five hundred tons of telegraph stores 
 in all some fourteen thousand tons, 
 besides engines, rigging, etc., which made 
 nearly as much more. So enormous was 
 this burden, that it was thought prudent 
 not to take on board all her coal before 
 she left the ' Medway, especially as the 
 channel was winding and shallow. It 
 was therefore arranged that about a third 
 of her coal should be taken in at Bere- 
 haven, a port on the south-west coast of 
 Ireland. The time for her departure, was 
 the last day of June ; and in four or five 
 days she had passed down the Irish coast, 
 and was quietly anchored in the harbor at 
 Berehaven, where she was soon joined by 
 the other vessels of the squadron. The 
 Terrible, which had accompanied the Great 
 Eastern on the former expedition, was still 
 there to represent the majesty of England. 
 The William Corry, a vessel of two thou- 
 sand tons, bore the ponderous shore end, 
 which was to be laid out thirty miles from 
 the Irish coast, while the Albany and the 
 Medway were ships chartered by the com- 
 pany. While the Great Eastern remained 
 at Berehaven, to take in her final stores of 
 coal, the William Corry proceeded around 
 the coast to Valentia, to lay the shore 
 end. She arrived off the harbor, July 
 7th, and immediately prepared for her 
 heavy task. This shore end was of tre- 
 mendous size, weighing over eight tons to 
 the mile. The cable was to be brought 
 off on a bridge of boats, reaching from the 
 ship to the foot of the cliff. All the fish- 
 ermen's boats were gathered from along 
 
 the shore, while the British war-ship 
 Racoon, which was guarding that part of 
 the coast, sent up her boats to help, so 
 that, as they all mustered in line, there 
 were forty of them, making a long pon- 
 toon-bridge ; and Irish boatmen with eager 
 looks and strong hands were standing 
 along the line to grasp the massive chain. 
 All went well, and by one o'clock the cable 
 was landed, and its end brought up the 
 cliff to the station. The signals were 
 found to be perfect, and the William Corry 
 then slowly drew off to sea, unlimbering 
 her stiff shore end, till she had cast over 
 the whole thirty miles. At three o'clock, 
 the next morning, she telegraphed through 
 the cable that her work was done, and she 
 had buoyed the end in water a hundred 
 fathoms deep. 
 
 The joy of the inhabitants on witness- 
 ing this scene was earnest and deep-seated, 
 rather than demonstrative, after the les- 
 son taught by last year's experience. The 
 excitement was below, instead of above 
 the surface. Nothing could prevent the 
 scene being intensely dramatic, but the 
 prevailing tone of the drama was serious, 
 instead of boisterous and triumphant. 
 Speech-making, hurrahing, public congrat- 
 ulations, and vaunts of confidence, were, 
 as it seemed, avoided as if on purpose. 
 The old crones (says an English paper) in 
 tattered garments who cowered together, 
 dudheen in mouth, their gaudy colored 
 shawls tightly drawn over head and under 
 the chin the barefooted boys and girls, 
 who by long practice walked over sharp 
 and jagged rocks, which cut up boots and 
 shoes, with perfect impunity the men at 
 work uncovering the trench, and winding 
 in single file up and down the hazardous 
 path cut by the cablemen in the otherwise 
 inaccessible rock the patches of bright 
 color furnished by the red petticoats and 
 cloaks the ragged garments, only kept 
 from falling to pieces by bits of string and 
 tape the good old parish priest, who exer- 
 cises mild i,nd gentle spiritual sway over 
 the loving subjects of whom the ever-pop- 
 ular Knight of Kerry is the temporal 
 head, looking on benignly from his car 
 
LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 633 
 
 the bright eyes, supple figures, and inno- 
 cent faces of the peasant lasses, and the 
 earnestly hopeful expression of all made 
 up a picture not easily described. 
 
 On the thirteenth of July, the fleet was 
 ready to sail on its great errand, and lay 
 the cable in the heart of the wide and 
 deep ocean. Previously to the departure, 
 however, a devotional meeting was held, 
 participated in by the company, the offi- 
 cers and hands, at which the enterprise 
 was solemnly commended to the favor of 
 God. In a short time after leaving the 
 shores of Ireland, the Medway reached the 
 buoy to which the shore-end was attached, 
 and immediately the operation of splicing 
 that end with the main coil on board the 
 Great Eastern was performed. 
 
 At about three o'clock, p. M., the tele- 
 graph fleet was on its way to Newfound- 
 land, in the following order : The Terri- 
 ble ahead of the Great Eastern on the 
 starboard bow, the Medway on the port, 
 and the Albany on the starboard quarter. 
 The weather was thick and foggy, with 
 heavy rains. Signals were sent through 
 the cable on board of the Great Eastern 
 and to the telegraph house at Valentia, 
 and the two thousand four hundred and 
 forty nautical miles were found perfect in 
 condition, and only waiting their final 
 destination in the vast womb of the ocean. 
 
 All went well until noon of July 18th, 
 when the first real shock was given to the 
 success that had hitherto attended them, 
 and caused considerable alarm. A foul 
 flake took place in the after-tank. The 
 engine was immediately turned astern, 
 and the paying of the cable stopped. All 
 hands were soon on the decks, and there 
 learned, to their dismay, that the running 
 and paying out of the coil had caught 
 three turns of the flake immediately under 
 it, carried them into the eye of the coil, 
 fouling the toy-out and hauling up one- 
 half turna from the outside, and five turns 
 of the eye of the under flakes. This was 
 stopped, fortunately, before entering the 
 paying-out machines ; stoppers of hemp 
 with chains were also put on near the 
 wheel astern, and orders were given by 
 
 Mr. Canning, to stand by to let go the 
 buoy. This was not very cheering to 
 hear ; but, though the calm and collected 
 man inspired those around him with con- 
 fidence that his skill and experience would 
 extricate the cable from the danger in 
 which it was placed, no fishing line was 
 ever entangled more than the rope when 
 thrust up in apparently hopeless danger 
 from the eye of the cable to the deck. 
 
 There were at least five thousand feet 
 of rope lying in this state, and in the 
 midst of thick rain and increasing wind, 
 the cable crew set to work to disentangle 
 it. The Dolphin was there, too, patiently 
 following the lights as they showed them- 
 selves, the crew now passing them forward 
 and now aft, until at last the character of 
 the tangle was seen, and soon it became 
 apparent that ere long the cable would be 
 saved and uninjured down to the tank. 
 Captain Anderson was at the taffrail, anx- 
 iously watching the strain on the rope 
 (they could scarcely make it out, the night 
 was so dark), endeavoring to keep it up 
 and down, going on raising with paddle 
 and screw. In view of the rise of the 
 great ship, and the enormous mass she 
 presented to the wind, the difficulty of 
 keeping her stern, under the circum- 
 stances, over the cable, can be appreci- 
 ated. The port paddle-wheel was discon- 
 nected, but afterward there was a shift 
 of wind, and the vessel came-to the wrong 
 way. 
 
 Welcome voices were now heard passing 
 the word aft from the tank, that the 
 bights were cleared, and to pay out. Then 
 the huge stoppers were quietly opened, 
 and at 2 : 05 A. i'., to the joy of all, the 
 cable was once more being discharged. 
 They veered it away in the tank to clear 
 the screw, and the paddle-engines were 
 slowed so as to reduce the speed of the 
 ship to four and a half knots. During all 
 this critical time, there was entire absence 
 of noise and confusion. Everything was 
 silently done, and the cable men and crew 
 worked with hearty good will. 
 
 On the morning of Friday, at eight 
 o'clock, July 27th, the ship arrived at 
 
634 
 
 LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 Heart's Content, the American terminus, 
 the distance run being one thousand six 
 hundred and sixty-nine miles, and the 
 length of cable paid out, one thousand 
 eight hundred and four miles. The aver- 
 age speed of the ship from the time the 
 splice was made until they came in sight 
 of land was a little less than five nautical 
 miles per hour, and the cable was paid out 
 at an average of five and one-half miles 
 per hour. The total slack was less than 
 twelve per cent. The fleet was in con- 
 stant communication with Valentia since 
 the splice was made, July 13th, and 
 news was daily received from Europe, 
 which was posted up outside of the tele- 
 graph office, for the information of all on 
 board of the Great Eastern, and was sig- 
 naled to the other ships. It would be 
 difficult to describe the feelings with which 
 Mr. Field, who, with his associates on 
 board, had watched the progress of the 
 undertaking with intense solicitude, day 
 and night, penned the following an- 
 nouncement to his friends in New York, 
 and which was received throughout the 
 whole land with unbounded delight : 
 
 " HEART'S CONTEXT, July 27. We 
 arrived here at nine o'clock, this morning. 
 All well. Thank God, the cable is laid, 
 and is in perfect working order. 
 
 CYRUS W. FIELD." 
 
 Strangely and happily enough, too, the 
 first European tidings flashed across the 
 cable to the western hemisphere, was, that 
 a treaty of peace had just been signed 
 between Austria and Prussia, and that 
 the black war cloud which had gathered 
 over all Europe was fast fleeing away ; a 
 fit celebration of the grandest of human 
 enterprises, the successful establishment of 
 telegraphic communication between the 
 Old world and the New. 
 
 Congratulatory dispatches were immedi- 
 ately forwarded, by Mr. Field, to the pres- 
 ident of the United States, the secretary 
 of state, and to the honorary directors of 
 the Atlantic Telegraph Company. The 
 queen of England sent her salutations to 
 the president, as follows: "The Queen 
 
 congratulates the President on the suc- 
 cessful completion of an undertaking which 
 she hopes may serve as an additional bond 
 of union between the United States and 
 England." To this, the president re- 
 sponded by saying : " The President of 
 the United States acknowledges with pro- 
 found gratification the receipt of Her 
 Majesty's dispatch, and cordially recipro- 
 cates the hope that the cable which now 
 unites the eastern and western hemi- 
 spheres may serve to strengthen and to 
 perpetuate peace and amity between the 
 Government of England and the Republic 
 of the United States." 
 
 Heart's Content, the American terminus 
 of the cable, is a little fishing hamlet, 
 hitherto unknown, but destined to an en- 
 during reputation hereafter, as one of the 
 most interesting geographical points in 
 the history of the age. The bay on which 
 it is situated is a very safe and capacious 
 one, and on this account was selected. 
 
 Among the complimentary messages 
 sent to Mr. Field, on the consummation of 
 his great and magnificent scheme, was one 
 which came to hand on Monday, July 
 30th, from M. de Lesseps, the renowned 
 projector of the Suez Canal. It was 
 dated in Alexandria, Egypt, the same day, 
 at half-past one o'clock, p. M., and reached 
 Newfoundland at half-past ten, A. M. By 
 looking at the globe, one can see over 
 what a space that message flew. Remark- 
 ing upon the wonderful fact, a New York 
 paper graphically said that it came from the 
 farthest East, from the land of the Pha- 
 raohs and Ptolemies ; it passed along the 
 shores of Africa, and under the Mediter- 
 ranean, more than a thousand miles, to 
 Malta ; thence it leaped to the continent, 
 and shot across Italy, and over the Alps, 
 and then through France, under the Chan- 
 nel, to London ; then across England and 
 Ireland, till from the cliffs of Valentia it 
 struck straight into the Atlantic, darting 
 down the submarine mountain which lies 
 off the coast, and over all the hills and 
 valleys of the watery plain, resting not 
 till it touched the shore of the New World. 
 Thus, in its morning's flight, it had passed 
 
LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE GREAT EASTERN AT HEART'S CONTENT, WITH THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 
 
 over one-fourth of the earth's surface, 
 and so far outstripped the sun in his 
 course, that, by the dial, it reached its 
 destination three hours before it was sent ! 
 Curiously enough, too, in this latter con- 
 nection, it was found, when considering 
 the propriety of not sending messages on 
 Sunday, that, supposing no delay in trans- 
 mission, Sunday in the United States is 
 Saturday in Calcutta, and thus the adop- 
 tion of such a rule would be working east- 
 ward and westward to exclude Saturday, 
 Sunday, and Monday, from telegraph 
 operations. 
 
 As illustrating the moral uses, too, sub- 
 served by land and ocean telegraph lines 
 connecting different countries and conti- 
 nents, the following case, given in a New 
 York journal by no means an extreme 
 case in this present day of increased tele- 
 graphic facilities will be found in point : 
 A knavish Chinaman in California having 
 contracted the barbarian vice of swindling, 
 has been cheating sundry merchants in 
 San Francisco out of eighteen thousand 
 dollars, and, getting on board the Pacific 
 Mail steamship, fled to the Central Flowery 
 Kingdom. Tn this way he hoped to put 
 between himself and those whom he had 
 robbed, first, some ten thousand miles of 
 ocean. But, a telegram from San Fran- 
 cisco bears the tidings of his crime to New 
 York. New York sends it by cable across 
 the Atlantic to London, London through 
 
 France and under the Mediterranean to 
 Alexandria, Alexandria by the Red Sea 
 and Persian Gulf to Bombay, Bombay to 
 Ceylon, and Ceylon by the Peninsula and 
 Oriental steamers to China. So that, 
 when Hong-Kee trips lightly down the 
 ship's gangway at Hong Kong or Shang- 
 hai, dreaming of much opium and many 
 almond-eyed daughters of the Sun in the 
 Land of Flowers, his placid soul will be 
 disconcerted by the tap of a bamboo on 
 his shoulder, and a voice of doom will 
 murmur an ungentle summons in his ear. 
 Poor Hong-Kee ! The bad morals of the 
 Christians have corrupted him, and in the 
 steam-engine of the Christians has he put 
 his trust. But the literal ' chain-light- 
 ning' of those same Christians is after 
 him, to outstrip their steam-engine, and to 
 teach him in sorrow arid in shame how 
 much better he might have done. 
 
 Not less curious, in a scientific point of 
 view, is the following incident, as related 
 by Mr. Field, at the magnificent banquet 
 given in his honor, in New York, on the 
 triumphant completion of what has justly 
 been pronounced the grandest of human 
 enterprises. " The other day," said Mr. 
 Field, in his speech on this occasion, " Mr. 
 Lattimer Clark telegraphed from Ireland, 
 across the ocean and back again, with a 
 battery formed in a lady's thimble ! And 
 now Mr. Collett writes me from Heart's 
 Content : " I have just sent my compli- 
 
636 
 
 LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 ments to Doctor Gould, of Cambridge, 
 who is at Valentia, with a battery com- 
 posed of a gun cap, with a strip of ziiic, 
 excited by a drop of water, the simple bulk 
 of a tear ! ' " 
 
 Too great credit can never be awarded 
 to Mr. Field, for his persevering devotion 
 to this enterprise, through ten years of 
 disheartening failure. In the early stages 
 of the enterprise, few encouraged him in 
 his expectations, though all personally 
 wished him well. On preparing, there- 
 fore, for one of his trips across the Atlan- 
 tic, in connection with the business, one 
 of his friends said to him, " When shall 
 we see you again ? " " Not until I have 
 laid the cable ! " was Mr. Field's reply. 
 So, too, on presenting the subject to 
 Lord Clarendon. The latter showed 
 great interest and made many inquiries, 
 but was rather startled at the mag- 
 nitude of the proposed scheme, as well 
 
 as at the confident tone of the projec- 
 tors, and pleasantly asked the lion-hearted 
 man 
 
 " But, suppose you don't succeed ? Sup- 
 pose you make the attempt and fail your 
 cable is lost in the sea then what will 
 you do ? " 
 
 " Charge it to profit and loss, and go to 
 work to lay another," was Mr. Field's quick 
 and characteristic response to his noble 
 friend. 
 
 On another occasion, when dining at 
 the residence of Mr. Adams, the Ameri- 
 can ambassador, in London, he was seen 
 for an instant to nod his head. John 
 Bright, who sat next to him, turned to 
 him with a smile, and said, " I am glad to 
 see you sleep ; / didn't know that you ever 
 slept ! " a most pertinent and deserved 
 tribute to the man whose indomitable faith 
 and energy was finally crowned with im- 
 mortal success. 
 
LXXV1. 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 1869. 
 
 Spikes of the Richest <*old and a Hammer of Pure Silver Used in Laying the Last Rail. The Blows 
 of the Sledge Telegraphed to All the Great Cities The Wide Continent Spanned with Iron from the 
 farthest East to the Golden Gate .Junction of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Seven Days from 
 New York to San Francisco. Greatest Railroad Route on the Face of the Earth. " Manifest Des- 
 tiny "of the United States. A Pacific Highway Agitated for Years Its National Importance and 
 Necessity. Charters and Government Aid at Last. The " Union " and " Central " Companies. 
 Natural Difficulties to be Overcome. Feats of Engineering Involved. Triumphs of Science in this 
 Respect. Mountains Tunneled, Rivers Bridged. Gulfs Spanned, Depths Fathomed. Vastness and 
 Progress of the Work. A Force of Twenty-five Thousand Men and Six Thousand Teams First 
 Train at the Top of the Sierras. Pushing the Line to Completion. Approach of the .""wo Grand 
 Divisions. Union at Promontory Point, Utah Exultation Over the Victory. Historic Scene in the 
 Heart of America. Offerings of Gold, Silver, Iron, and Laurel. Telegram to President Grant. Cel- 
 ebration in the Principal Cities. Easy Journey Around tiie World. 
 
 "The Inst rail is laid the last pike driven the Peciflc Railroad i completed I" OFFICIAL TELEOBAU man PEOBOKTOKT Poll-. 
 OCTOBIB 10th. ISKl 
 
 MOUNTAIN 8CEXE OX THE PACIFIC RAILItOAD. 
 
 ELIEVERS in the "manifest destiny" 
 of the universal Yankee nation were fa- 
 vored with one of the most conclusive and 
 gratifying confirmations of their cherished 
 theory, when that most stupendous work 
 ever undertaken by man, the Construction 
 of the Pacific Railway, was finally consum- 
 mated by the laying of the last rail and the 
 memorable ceremony performed by officials 
 of clasping together the iron girdle about 
 the loins of the nation ; in the winding of 
 which mighty coil across the continent, 
 mountains were tunneled which made 
 one's head giddy to gaze upon ; rivers were 
 bridged which, since the primeval days of 
 creation, had rolled in majestic solitude; 
 gulfs, frightful and tumultuous, were 
 spanned; frowning heights were climbed 
 and leveled ; and abyssmal depths were 
 fathomed. And all this was accomplished 
 in a period of time, and on a scale of mag- 
 nitude, the recital of which is fairly calcu- 
 lated to stagger credulity. 
 
 Notwithstanding the necessity of such a 
 'ine of communication had for years been 
 
638 
 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 repeatedly urged, it was not until 1859 
 that a bill was carried through congress, 
 authorizing the grand scheme. This bill, 
 according to the Chicago Times' exhaust- 
 ive account of the history of the enter- 
 prise, which is here abridged, comprised 
 no less than three great lines, namely, the 
 northern, the southern, and the central. 
 But the breaking out of the civil war 
 checked the enterprise. The astonishing 
 development, however, of the precious . 
 metals in Nevada and the travel and traf- 
 fic that inevitably followed, embodied for 
 the mines of Californians that imperious 
 need of a cheaper and easier conveyance, 
 into a plan of a continental railway, which 
 had always been popular there. 
 
 The assumed impracticability of cross- 
 ing the Sierras did not discourage a few 
 daring, far-sighted engineers, prominent 
 among whom was Mr. T. P. Benjamin, 
 the character of whose surveys decided 
 the state legislature to charter the Cen- 
 tral Pacific railroad company, in 1862. 
 In a short time, success crowned the ef- 
 forts of the friends of the enterprise in 
 congress; and so, in July, 1862, the great 
 continental railway from the Missouri to 
 the Pacific was an assured undertaking. 
 In 1865, forty miles were built ; in 1866, 
 two hundred and sixty-five miles; in 
 1867, two hundred and forty-five miles; 
 in 1868, four hundred and twenty-five 
 miles ; in 1869, one hundred and five 
 miles. East of Salt Lake City, the eleva- 
 tion of the road averages about seven thou- 
 sand feet above the sea. Most of the coun- 
 try is very rough, destitute of wood and 
 water, and a large portion of the way is 
 through an alkali desert. Tremendous 
 jnow-storms in the mountains presented 
 another great difficulty. 
 
 The spirit of rivalry did its share in 
 stimulating the activity of the Union 
 Pacific company. The efforts of this com- 
 pany had so far languished during the ear- 
 lier history of their corporation, that iittle 
 was done till after the close of the war. 
 The Central Pacific, however, immediately 
 commenced work, so that, in January, 
 1863, the first grading was done, the 
 
 occasion being signalized with great re- 
 joicing as a general holiday, and, even so 
 early as June, 1864, thirty-one miles of 
 track had been laid to New Castle, nearly 
 one thousand feet above the sea at the 
 foot of the Sierras. But, owing to finan- 
 cial difficulties, it was not until September, 
 1866, that progress was made to Alta, sev- 
 enty miles east of Sacramento, and nearly 
 six thousand feet above the sea. In No- 
 vember following, the track reached Cisco, 
 some six thousand feet above the sea, an 
 average elevation of about one hundred 
 feet per mile being overcome in twenty- 
 three miles. 
 
 Work on the Union Pacific did not 
 commence till eighteen months after the 
 Central had inaugurated their section of 
 the enterprise. In the spring of 1867. 
 when the snows had melted, the work was 
 resumed by both companies, with great 
 vigor, the race being kept up with an 
 ardor that constantly gathered head. The 
 Union was far ahead in respect to dis- 
 tance, but they had to fight against con- 
 tinually increasing difficulties, while the 
 Central had already overcome the great 
 ones of their undertaking in crossing the 
 Sierras, and could look forward to an open 
 and easy route. The first passenger train 
 reached the top of the Sierras, November 
 30, 1867. By the time the western end 
 of the route had reached the lower 
 Truckee, one hundred and forty miles 
 east of Sacramento, the Union had reached 
 a point in the Black Hills, five hundred 
 miles west of Omaha. 
 
 At the opening of the summer of 1868, 
 the two companies were nearly equally 
 distant from Monument Point, at the 
 head of Salt Lake, and the emulation be- 
 tween the two gave rise to prodigious ef- 
 forts. About twenty-five thousand men 
 and six thousand teams were engaged 
 along the route between the foot of the 
 Sierras and Evans's pass. The competi- 
 tion increased as they neared each other, 
 and at last the struggle arose as to the 
 point of junction. The Central company 
 wished Ogden fixed as the point of junc- 
 tion, and the Union urged Monument 
 
COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 Point; tho matter was at last settled by a 
 decision in favor of the former. The dan- 
 gers to which the laborers were subjected, 
 and the imperious necessity of vigilant 
 protection of the track and material of the 
 road, were great and unceasing, owing to 
 the inveterate hostility of the Indians. 
 From Fort Kearney west, up the Platte 
 river, to the foot of the Black Hills, the 
 road was subject to a continual succession 
 of fierce attacks. Several battalions of 
 United States troops were scattered along 
 the line, and found full employment in 
 adequately guarding the object of their 
 vigilance. 
 
 That the completion of such a vast en- 
 terprise, unparalleled in magnitude and 
 grandeur, should be hailed as one of the 
 most memorable achievements in the ma- 
 terial progress of the country, was cer- 
 tainly to be expected. Nor is it to be 
 wondered at that the original pick and 
 shovel employed in commencing such a 
 work, should still be looked upon, by every 
 patriot, with historic interest. They are 
 carefully preserved, and bear the following 
 inscriptions : 
 
 "Pick that stmck the first bloia on the 
 Union Pacific railroad, Omaha, Decem- 
 ber 2, 1863. Pickers : Thomas Acheson, 
 Wilson F. Williams, George Francis Train, 
 Peter A. Day." 
 
 " Shovel used by George Sounders, to 
 move the first earth in the Union Pacific 
 railroad, Omaha, Neb., December 3, 1863. 
 Shcvelers : Alvin Saunders, governor of 
 Nebraska; B. E. B. Kennedy, mayor of 
 Omaha; I. M. Palmer, mayor of Council 
 Bluffs ; Augustus Kountze, director of 
 U. P. R. R." 
 
 The following table of distances on the 
 two lines will show the magnitude of this 
 great channel of continental communica- 
 tion : From New York to Chicago, 911 
 miles; from Chicago to Omaha, Neb., 
 491 miles. From Omaha, by the Union 
 Pacific line, to Ogden, 1,030, and a branch 
 of forty miles to Salt Lake City. From 
 Ogden, hy the Central Pacific line, 748 
 miles. From Sacramento to San Fran- 
 cisco, 120 miles. Thus, the grand dis- 
 
 tance, by the iron track, from Omaha to 
 San Francisco, is 1,898 miles ; from Chi- 
 cago to San Francisco, 2,389; from New 
 York to San Francisco, 3,377 miles, 
 
 In less than one-half or one-third of the 
 time predicted at the outset of the enter- 
 prise, the road was completed, a great 
 feat, indeed, when it is considered that 
 the workmen operated at such a distance 
 from their base of supplies, and that the 
 material.* 1 for construction and subsistence 
 had to be transported under such a vari- 
 ety of difficulties. Thus, the transporta- 
 tion of one hundred and ten thousand tons 
 of iron rails, one million fish-plates, two 
 million bolts, fifteen million spikes, three 
 and a half million cross-ties, and millions 
 of feet of timber not estimated, for the 
 construction of roads, culverts and bridges, 
 made one of the minor items of the ac- 
 count. The moving of engines and ma- 
 chinery for stocking manufactories, of 
 materials for foundries and buildings of 
 every kind, not to speak of the food for an 
 army of thousands of workmen, all of 
 which belong to the single account of 
 transportation, may also give an impres- 
 sion of the activity and expense required 
 in bringing such a road to completion in 
 so short a time. 
 
 Of course the irregularities of surface 
 characterizing a distance so immense, and 
 particularly that portion of the line run- 
 ning among the Sierra Nevada mountains, 
 necessitated tunneling, cutting, and tres- 
 tle-bridging, on a large scale. The well- 
 known Bloomer Cut, sixty-three feet deep 
 and eight hundred feet long, is through 
 cemented gravel and sand, of the consist- 
 ency of solid rock, and only to be moved 
 by blasting. The trestle-bridging con- 
 stituted one of the most important features 
 in the construction of the road, and the 
 work, on completion, was pronounced oi 
 the most durable description. Among the 
 most famous of these structures may be 
 mentioned the trestle and truss bridge, 
 Clipper ravine, one hundred feet high; 
 the Long ravine, Howe truss bridge and 
 trestle, one hundred and fifteen feet high ; 
 and the trestle at Secrettowii; one thou- 
 
640 
 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 sand feet long, and fifty to ninety feet 
 high. The highest engineering skill was 
 demanded, from first to last, and the tri- 
 umphs of science, in this respect, were 
 complete. 
 
 The total mileage of the roads built un- 
 der the direct authority and by the aid of 
 the national government, was two thou- 
 sand four hundred miles. The govern- 
 ment subsidy in aid of these works, 
 amounted to about $64,000,000, of six per 
 cent, currency bonds, the companies being 
 also authorized to issue an equal amount 
 of bonds. Both companies had also a land 
 grant from congress, in alternate sections, 
 equal to twelve thousand eight hundred 
 acres per mile. 
 
 Ninety million dollars was the cost of 
 the Union Pacific railroad, up to 1869 ; 
 that ot the Central Pacific, seventy-five 
 million. This enormous sum, especially 
 in its relation to the government indebt- 
 edness, alarmed some timid economists. 
 But a sufficient answer to their arguments 
 was, that millions upon millions of acres 
 of government lands, hitherto lying idle, 
 would come into the market, and very 
 speedily appear as productive farms tilled 
 by the hand of industry ; that towns, vil- 
 lages, cities, manufacturing, mining, and 
 all the appliances and evidences of mate- 
 rial progress, would at once take a start, 
 the wealth of the East be poured into the 
 West, and emigration westward populat? 
 territories and turn them into states as if 
 by magic. By means of this new and 
 wonderful highway, the distance from 
 New York to San Francisco would be 
 traversed by passengers in six cr seven 
 days, instead of three weeks or more via 
 Panama. From San Francisco to Japan 
 is nineteen days, or twenty-five from New 
 York, and some thirty-six from London, a 
 speed exceeding that of the British mails 
 to Yokohama, via Suez, by upwards of 
 twenty days. And thus, San Francisco, 
 on the Pacific, the travel and commerce of 
 the nations of Western Europe with the 
 hundreds of millions of people of Eastern 
 Asia, and the great island of Australia, 
 would pass over the railway, the land 
 
 that built it thereby reaping the benefit of 
 being the world's highway. 
 
 On the tenth of May, 1869, the grand his- 
 toric event took place at Promontory Point, 
 Utah, of uniting the two great divisions of 
 the trans-continental railway. Early in 
 the morning, says the Chicago Tribune, 
 Governor Stanford and party from the Pa- 
 cific coast were on the ground ; and at half- 
 past eight, an engine with a palace and two 
 passenger cars arrived from the east bring- 
 ing Vice-President Durant and directors 
 Duff and Dillon, of the Union Pacific rail- 
 road, with other distinguished visitors, 
 including several Mormon apostles. Both 
 parties being in readiness, the ties were 
 thrown down on the open space of about 
 one hundred feet, and the employes of 
 the two companies approached with the 
 rails to fill the gap. Mr. Stenbridge, sub- 
 contractor, who had been in charge of the 
 building of the Central Pacific from the 
 laying of the first rail on the bank of the 
 Sacramento, commanding a party of Chi- 
 nese track-layers, advanced from the west 
 with assistant - general superintendent 
 Corning. 
 
 The Chinamen, conscious that the 
 strangers from the far east were watch- 
 ing their movements with curious eyes, 
 wielded the pick, shovel and sledge, with 
 consummate dexterity ; but their faces wore 
 an appearance of unconcern and indiffer- 
 ence wonderful if real, and not the less so 
 if affected. White laborers from the east 
 did their best work, but with more indica- 
 tion of a desire to produce an effect, and 
 at eleven o'clock the European and Asiatic 
 private soldiers of civilization stood face 
 to face in the heart of America, each 
 proudly conscious that the work was well 
 done, and each exultant over so noble a 
 victory. Engine No, 119 from the Atlan- 
 tic, and Jupiter, No. 60, from the Pacific, 
 each decorated with flags and evergreens 
 for the occasion, then approached within a 
 hundred feet from opposite directions, and 
 saluted with exultant screams. Superin- 
 tendent Vandenburgb. now attached the 
 telegraph wires to the last rail, so that 
 each blow of the sledge should be recorded 
 
COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 641 
 
 on every connecting telegraph instrument 
 between San Francisco anil Portland, Me. 
 It was also arranged so that corresponding 
 blows should be struck on the bell in the 
 city hall at San Francisco, and the last 
 one fire a cannon in the batteries at Fort 
 Point. General Safford, in behalf of the 
 territory of Arizona, presented a spike 
 composed of iron, gold and silver, as an 
 offering by Arizona, saying : 
 
 be struck. Every head was uncovered in 
 reverential silence, while Rev. Dr. Todd, 
 of Pittsfield, Mass., offered up a brief and 
 deeply impressive invocation. 
 
 The magnificent tie of laurel, on which 
 was a commemorative plate of silver, was 
 brought forward, put in place, and Doctor 
 Harkness, in behalf of the state of Califor- 
 nia, presented Governor Stanford the gold 
 spike. President Stanford, of the Central 
 Pacific railroad, responded, accepting the 
 golden and silver tokens, predicting the 
 day as not far distant when three tracks 
 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC KAILBOAD. 
 
 "Ribbed with iron, clad in silver, and 
 crowned with gold, Arizona presents her 
 offering to the enterprise that has banded 
 every continent and dictated a new path- 
 way to commerce." 
 
 The crowd fell back at the request of 
 General Casement, and the artist for the 
 Union Pacific railroad photographed the 
 scene, with the locomotives confronting 
 each other, and Chinese and Caucasian 
 laborers confronting the work. It was 
 aow announced that the last blow was to 
 
 would be found necessary to accommodate 
 the traffic which would seek transit across 
 the continent, and closing with the happy 
 summons "Now, gentlemen, with your 
 assistance, we will proceed to lay the last 
 rail, the last tie, and drive the last spike." 
 General Dodge, in behalf of the Union 
 Pacific railroad, responded as follows : 
 " Gentlemen, The great Benton prophe- 
 
COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 sied that some day a granite statue of Co- 
 lumbus would be erected on the highest 
 peak of the Rocky mountains pointing 
 westward, denoting this as the great route 
 across the continent. You have made 
 that prophecy this day. Accept this as 
 the way to India." Mr. Tuttle, from 
 Nevada, presented a silver spike on behalf 
 of the citizens of that state, with the fol- 
 lowing remarks: "To the iron of the East 
 and the gold of the West, Nevada adds 
 her link of silver, to spaa the continent 
 and wed the oceans." Thereupon, Super- 
 intendent Coe, in behalf of the Pacific 
 Union express, presented the silver ham- 
 mer, or sledge, with which to drive the 
 last spike. 
 
 Governor Stanford and Vice-President 
 Durant advanced, took in hand the sledge, 
 and drove the spike, while the multitude 
 stood silent. Mr. Miles, of Sacramento, 
 who was chairman of the meeting, an- 
 nounced the great work done! The si- 
 lence of the multitude was now broken, 
 and a prolonged shout went forth, which, 
 while it yet quivered on the gladdened air, 
 was caught up by the willing lightning, 
 and borne to the uttermost parts of the 
 earth. Cheer followed cheer for the union 
 of the Atlantic and Pacific, the two Pacific 
 railroad companies and their officers, the 
 president of the United States, the Star 
 Spangled Banner, the laborers, ei;c. A 
 telegram announcing the grand consumma- 
 tion was sent at once to President Grant, 
 and one to the associated newspaper press 
 immediately followed, worded thus : 
 
 " The last rail is laid ! The last spike 
 driven ! The Pacific Railroad is com- 
 pleted! The point of junction is 1,086 
 miles west of the Missouri river, and 690 
 miles east of Sacramento City." 
 
 There was a great deal of interest and 
 excitement in Washington, and a large 
 crowd assembled at the telegraph office, 
 as soon as it was known that the driving 
 of the last spike would be announced by 
 the wires. Mr. Tinker, the manager, fixed 
 a magnetic ball in a conspicuous place, 
 where all present could witness the per- 
 formance, and connected the same with 
 
 the main lines, notifying the various 
 offices throughout the country, that he 
 was ready. New Orleans, New York and 
 Boston, instantly answered that they were 
 ready. Soon afterward, many of the offi- 
 ces in different parts of the country be- 
 gan to make all sorts of inquiries of the 
 office at Omaha, from which point the ci- 
 cuit was to be started. That office replied : 
 
 " To everybody : Keep quiet. When 
 the last spike is driven a? Promontory 
 Point, we will say "Done." Don't break 
 the circuit, but watch for the signals of 
 the blows of the hammer." 
 
 After some little delay, the instruments 
 were all adjusted, and 2.27, in the after- 
 noon, Promontory Point said to the peo- 
 ple congregated in the various telegraph 
 offices " Almost ready. Hats off ; prayer 
 is being offered." A silence for the prayer 
 ensued. At 2.40 the bell tapped again; 
 and the office at the Point said "We 
 have got done praying. The spike is 
 about to be presented." Chicago replied 
 "We understand. All are ready in the 
 East." Promontory Point "All ready 
 now. The spike will soon be driven. The 
 signal will be three dots for the com- 
 mencement of the blows." 
 
 For a moment the instrument was 
 silent, and then the hammer of the mag- 
 net tapped the bell, one, two, three the 
 signal. Another pause of a few seconds, 
 and the lightning came flashing eastward, 
 vibrating two thousand four hundred miles, 
 between the junction of the two roads and 
 Washington, and the blows of the ham- 
 mer upon the spike were delivered in- 
 stantly, in telegraphic accents, on the bell 
 in Washington. At 2.47, in the after- 
 noon, Promontory Point gave the signal, 
 "DONE!" the announcement that the 
 continent was spanned with iron. The 
 time of the event in San Francisco was 
 11.45, in the forenoon. A telegraph wire 
 had been attached to a fifteen-inch gun. 
 and as the first stroke on the last spike 
 was telegraphed from Promontory Point, 
 the gun was fired by electricity, and by 
 the same agent all the fire-bells in the city 
 were rung. 
 
COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILKOAD. 
 
 The news of the completion of the road 
 created, of course, great enthusiasm in all 
 the cities of California. In San Francisco, 
 the event was celebrated in a manner long 
 to be remembered. The day was ushered 
 in by a salute of one hundred guns, and 
 congratulatory messages were transmitted 
 to the directors of the Central and Union 
 roads by the "California Pioneers." All 
 the Federal forts in the harbor fired sa- 
 lutes, the bells being rung and the steam 
 whistles blown at the same time. Busi- 
 ness was suspended, nearly every citizen 
 exhibiting a hearty interest in the demon- 
 strations. The procession was the largest 
 and most imposing ever witnessed in San 
 Francisco. In addition to the state mili- 
 tia, all the available United States troops 
 participated in the pageant, while the 
 civic societies turned out with full ranks. 
 The shipping was dressed in fine style 
 both the city and harbor, indeed, present- 
 ing a magnificent sight. During the day, 
 the principal buildings were festooned 
 with the banners of every nation, and the 
 streets were thronged with an excited and 
 joyous people. At night, the whole city 
 was brilliantly illuminated. 
 
 At Sacramento, the event was observed 
 with marked demonstrations. The city 
 was crowded with a multitude of people 
 from all parts of the state and Nevada, to 
 participate in or witness the festivities, 
 particularly the grand odd-fellows' proces- 
 sion. The lines of travel to and from Sac- 
 ramento were thrown open to the public 
 free, and an immense number of people 
 took advantage of this arrangement and 
 flocked thither. The Central Pacific com- 
 pany had thirty locomotives gaily decked, 
 and as the signal gun was fired announc- 
 ing the driving of the last spike of the 
 road, the locomotives opened an overpow- 
 ering chorus of whistles, all the bells and 
 steam whistles of the city immediately 
 joining in the deafening exhibition. 
 
 In Chicago, the celebration was the 
 most successful affair of the kind that 
 ever took place in that city, and, probably, 
 in the West, although it was almost en- 
 tirely impromptu. The procession was 
 
 unique in appearance and immense in 
 length, being, at the lowest estimate, four 
 miles, and representing all classes, associ- 
 ations and trades. During the moving of 
 the procession, Vice-President Colfax, who 
 was visiting the city, received the follow- 
 ing dispatch, dated at Promontory Point : 
 "The rails were connected to-day. The 
 prophecy of Benton is a fact. This is the 
 way to India." A very interesting feat- 
 ure in the procession was an array of mail- 
 wagons with post-office employes, and sev- 
 eral tons of mail matter in bags, labeled 
 and marked as if bound for some of the 
 large cities both on this side and beyond 
 the Pacific ocean. Some of these were 
 marked as follows: 'Victoria, Australia;' 
 'Washington, Oregon (G. D. P.-O.);' 
 'Yeddo, Japan;' 'Pekin, China (G. D. 
 P.-O.);' 'Golden City, Colorado;' 'Den- 
 ver, Colorado;' 'Santa Fe, New Mexico;' 
 ' Hong Kong, China, via Chicago ; ' ' Yo- 
 kohama, Japan.' In the evening, Vice- 
 President Colfax, Lieut. Gov. Bross, and 
 others, addressed a vast assembly, speak- 
 ing eloquently of the great era in Ameri- 
 can history ushered in by the event of the 
 day. The marine display was also very 
 fine. 
 
 On the announcement of the completion 
 of the road in !New York, the mayor or- 
 dered a salute of one hundred guns, and 
 himself saluted the mayor of San Fran- 
 cisco with a dispatch conceived in the 
 most jubilant spirit, informing him that 
 "our flags are now flying, our cannon are 
 now booming, and in old Trinity a Te 
 Deum imparts thankful harmonies to the 
 busy hum about her church walls." The 
 Chambers of Commerce of the two cities 
 also exchanged congratulations, the New 
 York chamber recognizing in the new 
 highway an agent that would not only 
 "develop the resources, extend the com- 
 merce, increase the power, exalt the dig- 
 nity and perpetuate the unity of our re- 
 public, but in its broader relations, as the 
 segment of a world-embracing circle, di- 
 rectly connecting the nations of Europe 
 with those of Asia, would materially'.facili- 
 tate the enlightened and advancing civil- 
 
644 
 
 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 ization of our age." The services in Trin- 
 ity were conducted with great solemnity, 
 in the presence of a crowded congregation. 
 After prayer, and the reading of a portion 
 of the Episcopal service, the organ pealed 
 forth in its grandest fullness and majesty, 
 and, as the assembly dispersed, the church 
 chimes added to the joyousness of the oc- 
 casion by ringing out " Old Hundred," the 
 "Ascension Carol," and the national airs. 
 
 In Philadelphia, the authorities im- , 
 provised a celebration so suddenly, that 
 the ringing of the bells on Independence 
 Hall, and at the various fire stations, was 
 mistaken for a general alarm of fire, till 
 the news was announced. The sudden 
 flocking of the people to the State-house 
 resembled that which followed the recep- 
 tion of the news of Lee's surrender to 
 Grant. In many other towns and cities 
 throughout the union, the event was cele- 
 brated with great spirit. Even as far east 
 as Springfield, Mass., the jubilee spirit 
 was carried out. The entire force of work- 
 men of Wason's car manufactory in that 
 city formed a procession, headed by a band 
 and accompanied by a battery, and marched 
 from the shops of the company through 
 the principal streets, each man bearing 
 some tool or implement of his trade. 
 Banners bearing ' Our cars unite the Atlan- 
 tic and Pacific,' ' Four hundred car builders 
 celebrate the opening of the Pacific Rail- 
 road,' ' For San Francisco, connecting with 
 ferry to China,' etc., were conspicuous. 
 
 Returning to the scenes at Omaha, that 
 interesting and important point on this 
 trans-continental highway, the day was 
 there observed by such an outpouring of 
 the people as had never before been 
 equaled. The morning trains from the 
 west brought the fire companies and the 
 masonic fraternity from Fremont, and 
 large delegations from towns and settle- 
 ments as far west as North Platte. Be- 
 fore noon, the streets were filled with a 
 multitude anxiously awaiting the signal 
 from Capitol hill, where a park of artillery 
 was stationed in the neighborhood of the 
 observatory, to enable it to fire a salute 
 the moment the telegraphic signals an- 
 
 nounced that the last spike had been 
 driven. A grand procession was one of 
 the marked features of the day ; and, at 
 about half-past one, the booming of one 
 hundred guns, the ringing of bells, and 
 the shrieking of the whistles of steamers 
 and locomotives, proclaimed that Omaha 
 and Sacramento were forever united by 
 iron bands, and that now had been opened 
 a highway from the gates of the east to 
 the realms of sunset itself. 
 
 Thus, in the consummation of this 
 mightiest work of utility ever undertaken 
 by man, a journey around the world be- 
 came a tour both easy and brief. The city 
 of San Francisco could be reached from 
 New York, in less than seven days, run- 
 ning time. Arrived there, the finest 
 ocean steamers in the world, each one of 
 some four or five thousand tons, awaited 
 the traveler, to take him, in twenty-one 
 days, or less, to Yokohama, and thence, in 
 six days more, to any part of China. 
 From Hong Kong to Calcutta required 
 some fourteen days by several lines of 
 steamers touching at Singapore, Ceylon, 
 Madras, or ports on the coast of Burmah. 
 From Calcutta, a railroad runs far up into 
 the north of India, on the borders of 
 Cashmere and Affghanistan, and running 
 through northern India, Benares, Alla- 
 habad, etc. Another road intersects at 
 Allahabad, more than six hundred miles 
 above Calcutta, running some six hundred 
 miles to Bombay, where it connects with 
 the overland route to and from Egypt, in 
 twelve or thirteen days by steamer and 
 rail from Bombay to Cairo. From Cairo, 
 almost any port in Europe on the Medi- 
 terranean could be reached in from three to 
 five days, and home again in twelve days 
 more, making the actual traveling time 
 around the world only seventy-eight days. 
 
 More wonderful still, a trans-continental 
 train, which left New York early on the 
 morning of June 1st, 1876, reached San 
 Francisco at twenty-five minutes past nine, 
 June 4th, in the morning ; thus accom- 
 plishing the journey in eighty-three hours 
 and twenty minutes, without stoppages 
 and without accident 
 
LXXVIL 
 
 THIRTY THOUSAND MILES OF RAILWAY IN THIRTY 
 
 YEARS, AND EIGHTY THOUSAND IN HALF A 
 
 CENTURY. 1859. 
 
 Curious Chronicles Relating to the Introduction of Improved Means of Transit. The Old and the New. 
 Development and Progress. Numerous and Important Advantages. Great Saving of Time aud 
 Expense. Initiatory Undertakings in the United States. First American Railway with Steam as the 
 Locomotive Power. Small Beginnings: Great Results. Amazing Growth and Expansion in all 
 Directions. Social and Business Changes. Infancy of Mechanism in this Line. Pioneer Coach and 
 Locomotive. Successive Steps of Advancement. Usual Channels of Trade Abandoned. Power of 
 Capital Demonstrated. Distant Sections and Interests Equalized. Stimulus to Industry. Vast 
 Constructive Works Involved. U. S. Enterprise not Behindhand. " Breaking the Ground." Less than 
 20 Miles in 1829. Some 30,000 Miles in 1859. Constant and Rapid Increase. Inventive Genius 
 Displayed. "Improvements" by the Thousands. Steel Rails Substituted for Iron. Luxury on 
 Wheels. Palace and Sleeping Cars. Tremendous Speed Attained American and Foreign Lines. 
 Railways 16,000 Feet Above the Sea. 
 
 " Soon *halt thy power, unconquered Steam 1 afar 
 Drag the swift barge and drive the rapid car. 1 
 
 DARWIN. {more than one hundrtj years ago.) 
 
 I EEHAPS no invention of the pres- 
 ent century, it has been well re 
 marked hy the eminent Dr. Bake- 
 well, has produced such wide- 
 spread social and business changes 
 as that of steam locomotion on 
 railways. Not only have places 
 that were formerly more than a 
 day's journey from each other 
 been made accessible in a very 
 few hours, but the cost of travel- 
 ing has been so much reduced, 
 that the expense has in a great 
 degree long ceased to operate as 
 a bar to communication by rail- 
 way for business or pleasure, and 
 the usual channels of trade have 
 been most profitably abandoned 
 or superseded, with the greatest benefit to every interest involved. 
 
 As already remarked, in estimating the importance and advantage of railway travel- 
 
 TRAVELERS' DEPENDENCE IN FORMER TIMES. 
 
646 
 
 EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IN HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 ing, there must not be omitted its cheap- 
 ness and comfort, compared with travel- 
 ing by stage coach. There are occasion- 
 ally to be found, it is true, even at this 
 late day, persons who look back with re- 
 gret to the old coach ; and it is not to be 
 denied that railways have taken away much 
 of that peculiar romance of traveling, and 
 much of the exhilarating pleasure that was 
 
 various ways concentrating the energies 
 of a people, and thus enlarging materially 
 their wealth, comforts and social inter- 
 course. 
 
 Of no inferior consideration, too, in re- 
 lation to the grand invention of steam 
 railway travel, are the many subsidiary 
 works which have been created during its 
 progress toward perfection, and which 
 
 LOCOMOTIVE "ROCKET," 1829. 
 
 experienced when passing through a beau- 
 tiful country on the top of a well-horsed 
 coach in fine weather. The many inci- 
 dents and adventures that gave variety to 
 the journey were, it is true, pleasant 
 enough for a short distance ; but two days 
 and a night on the top of a coach, exposed 
 to cold and rain, or cramped up inside, 
 with no room to stir the body or the legs, 
 was accompanied with an amount of suf- 
 ering which those who have experienced it 
 would willingly exchange for a seat, even 
 in a second or third-class railway car. In 
 a business as well as a social point of view, 
 also, railways have made a powerful mark, 
 tending, as they do, to equalize the 
 value of land throughout immense regions, 
 by bringing distant sources of supply 
 nearer the points of demand ; giving ex- 
 traordinary impetus to manufacturing in- 
 dustry; and connecting all parts of a 
 country more closely together ; in these 
 
 have contributed so vastly to its success. 
 Thus, tunnels, of a size never before con- 
 templated, have penetrated for miles 
 through hard rocks, or through shifting 
 clays and sands; embankments and via- 
 ducts have been raised and erected, on 
 a scale of magnitude surpassing any 
 former similar works ; bridges of stupen- 
 dous proportions and of wonderfully in- 
 genious adaptation, have been constructed 
 to meet special exigencies, in some cases 
 carrying railways over straits of the sea, 
 or other waters, through gigantic tubes 
 or, in other cases, across rivers, suspended 
 from rods supported by curiously devised 
 piers and girders; &c., &c. 
 
 That the history of railways shows what 
 grand results may have their origin in 
 small beginnings, is no less true than that 
 the power of capital is seen in this as in 
 all other great material enterprises. In 
 j evidence of the former truth, Dr. Lyell 
 
EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IN HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 647 
 
 mentions the interesting, though of course 
 well-known, fact, that, when coal was first 
 conveyed in the neighborhood of New- 
 castle-on-Tyne, from the pit to the ship- 
 ping place, the pack horse, carrying a 
 burden of three hundred weight, was the 
 only mode of transport employed ; as soon 
 as roads suitable for wheeled carriages 
 were formed, carts were introduced, and 
 this first step in mechanical appliance to 
 facilitate transport had the effect of in- 
 creasing the load which the horse was 
 enabled to carry, from three hundred to 
 seventeen hundred weight. The next im- 
 provement consisted in laying wooden bars 
 or rails for the wheels of carts to run upon, 
 and this was followed by the substitution 
 of the four-wheeled wagon for the two- 
 wheeled cart ; by this further application 
 of mechanical principles, the original 
 
 the superb steel rails of later days. Of 
 the locomotive engine, which makes it 
 possible to convey a load of hundreds of tons 
 at a cost of fuel scarcely exceeding that of 
 the provender which the original pack-horse 
 consumed in conveying its load of three 
 hundred pounds an equal distance, it may 
 justly be called one of the crowning 
 achievements of mechanical science. Thus, 
 the railway system, like all other compre- 
 hensive inventions, has risen to its present 
 importance by a series of steps, in fact, 
 so gradual has been this progress, that the 
 system finds itself committed, even at the 
 present day, to a gauge fortuitously de- 
 termined by the distance between the 
 wheels of the carts for which wooden rails 
 were originally laid down, though this is 
 now being superseded by a narrower gauge, 
 to a considerable extent. Nor is the in- 
 
 LOCOMOTIVE OF TO-DAY. 
 
 horse load of three hundred weight was 
 augmented to forty-two hundred. These 
 were indeed important results, and they 
 were not obtained without the shipwreck 
 of many a fortune. 
 
 The next step of progress in this direc- 
 tion was the attachment of slips of iron to 
 the wooden rails. Then came the iron 
 tramway, the upright flange of the bar 
 acting, in this arrangement, as a guide to 
 keep the wheel on the track. The next 
 advance was an important one, and con- 
 sisted in transferring the guiding flange 
 from the rail to the wheel, an improve- 
 ment which enabled cast iron edge rails to 
 be used. Finally, in 1820, after the lapse 
 of many years from the first employment 
 of wooden bars, wrought iron rails, rolled 
 in long lengths, and of suitable section, 
 were made, and in time superseded all 
 other forms of railway, coming finally to 
 
 teresting fact to pass unnoticed, namely, 
 the promptness with which man's inven- 
 tive faculty supplies whatever device the 
 circumstances of the moment may require. 
 No sooner is a road formed fit for wheeled 
 carriages to pass along, than the cart takes 
 the place of the pack-saddle ; no sooner is 
 the wooden railway provided, than the 
 wagon is substituted for the cart; no 
 sooner is an iron railway formed, capable 
 of carrying heavy loads, than the locomo- 
 tive engine is ready to commence its 
 wonderful career ; and so on, ad indefi- 
 nituru. 
 
 The characteristic enterprise of Ameri- 
 cans did not fail them in this era of trans- 
 formation and advancement. The first 
 railroad attempted in the United States 
 was a crude and temporary affair in Bos- 
 ton a double-track arrangement for re- 
 moving gravel from lieacon Kill, and so 
 
648 
 
 EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IX HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 contrived that, while one train descended 
 the hill with its load, the empty train 
 would thereby be hauled up for loading. 
 A more positive effort in this line, and 
 more really deserving the name of a rail- 
 way and consequently honored by his- 
 torians with the term of priority was 
 that constructed in Quincy, Mass., for the 
 purpose of transporting granite from the 
 quarry at that place to the Neponset river, 
 a distance of about four miles ; it was a 
 single track road, with a width of five feet 
 between the rails, the latter being of pine, 
 covered with oak, and overlaid with thin 
 plates of wrought iron ; and the passage 
 from the quarry to the landing, of a car 
 carrying ten tons, with a single horse, was 
 
 Among the early undertakings of this 
 character, on an extensive and costly scale, 
 was the Boston and Lowell railroad, con- 
 structed in the most substantial manner 
 of stone and iron, and which, on its com- 
 pletion, was visited by strangers from all 
 places, as one of the chief objects of at- 
 traction in the metropolis of New Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The following extract from a Lowell 
 newspaper of that day, giving an account 
 of the ' breaking of the ground' in that vil- 
 lage (for village it then was,) for this enter- 
 prise, possesses sufficient interest to entitle 
 it to preservation : ' The excavation 
 which is now about being made in a hill 
 in this place for the bed of the contem- 
 
 OEIOINAL STEAM CAR. 
 
 performed in an hour. This was com- 
 pleted in 1827, and the affair created much 
 interest. 
 
 The first use of a locomotive in this coun- 
 try was in 1829, and was used on the rail- 
 road built by the Delaware and Hudson 
 company. From this fairly dates, there- 
 fore, American railway travel with steam 
 as the locomotive power. So popular was 
 this means of transit, however, that, in 
 thirty years from the time of its small be- 
 ginning, more than thirty thousand miles 
 of the iron road traversed the country in 
 different directions ; this number of miles 
 increasing to some eighty thousand in 1879, 
 with nearly fifteen thousand locomotives, 
 ana a capital of rising four and a half 
 billions. 
 
 plated railway, may be considered, next to 
 the various manufacturing establishments, 
 the most wonderful 'lion' of the place. 
 This hill is near the terminus of the rail- 
 way, in the neighborhood of the brewery, 
 but not in a populous part of the town. 
 It consists of a ledge of rock, which is 
 about three hundred yards in length, and 
 the average depth of the excavation is 
 about forty feet. It is thirty feet wide at 
 the bottom, and sixty at the top, aud the 
 masses of stone which have already been 
 riven from the ledge by blasting, seem to be 
 immense. A contract was originally made 
 with a person to effect a sufficient passage 
 through this hill, for the sum of seventy- 
 two thousand dollars. He commenced the 
 undertaking, employed sixty workmen for 
 
EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IX HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 649 
 
 about four months and failed. Another 
 person then undertook to finish the work 
 for the same amount ; but after a few 
 months, lie also abandoned the undertak- 
 ing. Those individuals are said to have 
 both been acquainted with the nature of 
 the business which they undertook, but 
 they were deceived by the quality of the 
 rock, which consists principally of gneiss 
 and mica, through which, although much 
 lighter and softer than limestone or 
 granite, it was found much more difficult 
 and expensive to effect a passage, than if 
 it were composed of those more solid ma- 
 
 the drill ' The difference of means and 
 methods peculiar to that period, as com- 
 pared with those employed at the present 
 day, in undertakings of this description, 
 will readily suggest itself to the reader. 
 
 The constant and rapid increase in the 
 construction of railway lines constituted, 
 thenceforth, a great feature for national 
 progress, and the inventive genius of the 
 country displayed in this direction soon 
 became correspondingly active, so much 
 so, in fact, that many scores of thousands 
 of mechanical improvements are now re- 
 corded in the Patent Office at Washington. 
 
 MODERN RAILWAY CAB. 
 
 terials. The drilling may not be so diffi- 
 cult ; but the rocks, lying in horizontal 
 strata, almost defy the power of gunpow- 
 der, so that heavy blasts, which would 
 shiver an immense mass of granite, are 
 frequently found here to produce but little 
 effect. In addition to this, the ledge is 
 found to be full of springs of water which 
 sometimes render it necessary for the 
 workmen to expend much time, and exer- 
 cise no inconsiderable ingenuity, in coun- 
 teracting its effects. There are also found 
 in the lower part of the ledge, huge 
 masses of quartz, and a species of rock 
 composed almost entirely of hornblende, 
 which is, of course, almost impenetrable to 
 
 Some of the principal lines constructed soon 
 after, or nearly cotemporary with, the above 
 named, were the Boston and Worcester, 
 Boston and Providence, Hudson and Mo- 
 hawk, Saratoga and Schenectady, Ithaca 
 and Susqnehanna, Ithaca and Catskill, 
 Catskill and Canajoharie, New York and 
 Erie, New York and Albany, Camden and 
 Amboy, Baltimore and Ohio, Lake Cham- 
 plain and Ogdensburgh, and so the list 
 might be well-nigh indefinitely extended, 
 coming down to those magnificent lines of a 
 later day which span the wide continent, 
 bringing the remotest sections of the East, 
 the West, the North, and the Soutl into 
 immediate proximity, and uniting,by bands 
 
650 EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IN HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 of iron and steel, "our whole country, 
 however bounded." 
 
 It would certainly be a difficult task to 
 describe the ' luxury on wheels ' exhibited 
 in the construction and equipment of the 
 railway caro which now convey passengers 
 on all the principal lines, palace cars, 
 drawing-room cars, etc., as they are truly 
 called, and costing, in frequent instances, 
 twenty thousand dollars each ; or the mag- 
 nificent and powerful locomotives, built at 
 an expense, in many cases, equal to that 
 of a first-class city residence ; the superb 
 and durable steel rails ; the continuous 
 power-brakes ; steel and steel-tired car 
 wheels f electric signals ; the contrivances 
 for lighting and warming ; nothing short 
 of a whole volume would afford space ade- 
 quate to any suitable description of these 
 and a thousand kindred matters pertaining 
 to the railway system of the present day. 
 
 The highest speed of railway trains pos- 
 sesses, in the popular rather than the scien- 
 tific view, a peculiar interest, and some 
 comparisons have been made, in this re- 
 spect, between onr American and the 
 British and other European roads. Among 
 the latter, the ' Flying Dutchman ' has 
 been considered the fastest train for a 
 comparatively short distance in the world; 
 that is, it runs from London to Swindon, 
 seventy-seven miles, in eighty-seven min- 
 utes, being at the rate of fifty-three miles 
 an hour, while Exeter, about one hundred 
 and ninety-four miles, is reached in four 
 and one-quarter hours, giving an average 
 pace of forty-five and one-half miles per 
 hour. Next to this train for speed is the 
 run by the Great Northern Railway to 
 Peterborough, when the average rate is 
 fifty-one miles, while the two hundred and 
 seventy-two miles to Newcastle is traveled 
 in six hours and twenty minutes, or at 
 forty-three miles an hour. The limited 
 mails of the London and Northwestern, 
 while running to Edinburgh northward, 
 and Holyhead westward, have trains trav- 
 eling the four hundred and one and two 
 hundred and sixty-four miles respectively 
 at a pace of forty miles an hour. The 
 Midland conveys its passengers to Leices- 
 
 ter, ninety-seven and a half miles, at a rate 
 of forty-four and three-quarters miles per 
 hour. The London and Brighton, by their 
 fast trains, run to London by the sea in 
 an hour and ten minutes, the rate being 
 forty-three miles an hour. On the Conti- 
 nent no such paces as the above are met 
 with. The French express from Calais to 
 Paris is known as the fastest French train, 
 doing thirty-seven miles an hour on an 
 average, while, from Paris to Marseilles, a 
 distance of five hundred and thirty-seven 
 miles, travelers are conveyed at the rate of 
 thirty-four miles an hour. Swiss railways 
 are slow, expresses only attaining a speed 
 of twenty-two miles an hour. In Belgium, 
 the highest speed is thirty-three miles an 
 hour, and in Holland about the same. 
 From Berlin to St. Petersburg, one thou- 
 sand and twenty-eight miles, is traversed 
 in forty-six hours, the pace being twenty- 
 two and a half miles an hour. In our own 
 country, forty or fifty miles an hour may 
 be said to be the maximum rate attained 
 excepting on a few special occasions, the 
 average speed being much less, nor does 
 the popular demand seem to favor an ex- 
 cessive pace. 
 
 Among the various requirements of the 
 railway system at present, so that the de- 
 fects now experienced in such traveling 
 may be remedied, the following may be 
 enumerated : First and foremost, the adop- 
 tion of what is known as the ' block ' sys- 
 tem, in its most rigorous form, should be 
 made compulsory ; greater brake power 
 should be introduced; double couplings 
 should be provided for all cars and trucks 
 when traveling from one station to another, 
 even if the use of single couplings, to save 
 time, be allowed during shunting opera- 
 tions ; foot-boards should be continuous, 
 and made so as to overlap platforms ; lock- 
 ing of car doors on both sides should be 
 prohibited under all circumstances, even 
 when a train is stationary, and, when it is 
 in motion, both doors should in all cases 
 be unlocked ; the consecutive hours of duty 
 for signalmen should be limited to six, and 
 the maximum for one day at such a post, 
 even with an interlude, should be ten; 
 
EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IN HALF A CENTURY 
 
 651 
 
 and finally, a system of telegraphic com- 
 munication, whether automatic or worked 
 by hand, at both ends, should be enforced 
 between signal and signal-box. 
 
 One of the most interesting, as well as 
 most recent, railway achievements, and 
 deserving of historical record, is the line 
 across the main ridge of the Andes, be- 
 tween Lima and Oroya. This remarkable 
 engineering work comprises about one 
 hundred and thirty miles of road, and is 
 intended as a first step towards bringing 
 the rich and fertile interior of the country 
 east of the Andes into easy communication 
 with the capital and the ports of the Pa- 
 cific. Thb crest of the Andes is traversed 
 by means of a short tunnel, at an altitude 
 of nearly sixteen thousand feet above the 
 sea level, the steep and irregular slope 
 up to this point being ascended by a series 
 of sharp curves and reversed tangents, and 
 the deep ravines spanned by bridges, one of 
 these being some two hundred and sixty- 
 five feet high. 
 
 It is the judgment of the best authori- 
 ties in these matters, that, as there is no 
 part of the world where railroads have 
 been such an important agency in material 
 development as has been the case in the 
 United States, so it is a fact, also, that no- 
 where else has there been greater progress 
 in the art of railway construction or in the 
 business of railway administration and 
 management Of the one hundred and 
 eighty-five thousand miles of railway in 
 the world, which had been completed in 
 the half century succeeding their intro- 
 duction, nearly one-half belonged in the 
 United States, a preponderance which, 
 having reference to territorial area, must 
 be considered very great, but, as compared 
 with the populations, is really enormous. 
 
 In the very able report on this subject 
 by Mr. Vf. A. Anderson, whose large ac- 
 quaintance with European railways enabled 
 him to form the most reliable conclusions, 
 the opinion is expressed that, with vast 
 regions urgently demanding the speedy 
 construction of new roads as the line of 
 civilization has moved across the continent, 
 with the needs of the older settled portion 
 
 of the country not by any means supplied, 
 and with that impatience of delay and 
 eagerness of enterprise which are charac- 
 teristic of the American people, it is not 
 surprising that there should be much that 
 is crude and superficial in many of the 
 railway works of such a country ; but, 
 when the relative cost of construction, the 
 wants of a comparatively new and partially 
 developed country, and the nature of the 
 means available for railway construction, 
 are considered, the fact appears that Amer- 
 ican railroads, in the condition of their 
 permanent ways and of their rolling stock, 
 in their system of administration and in 
 their efficiency, compare quite favorably 
 with those of any other country. In many 
 respects they would not be so well suited 
 to the countries and populations of Europe 
 as are the modes of railroad construction 
 and management now usually prevailing 
 in those countries. Indeed, the character- 
 istic social relations, and the wants of the 
 people and needs of our country, are so dif- 
 ferent from those of European nations, 
 that it is difficult fairly to contrast the 
 European railway systems with the Ameri- 
 can, each being marked by peculiarities 
 of special adaptation to the respective 
 countries. 
 
 There are, however, some striking par- 
 ticulars in which the practice of European 
 railways, their management of trains, 
 their plans and arrangement of cars and 
 coaches, &c., varies from that pursued 
 in America, but which, after all, involves 
 only different yet about equally good 
 methods for reaching the same results as 
 are obtained in America by other and not 
 always superior means. Their subdivision 
 of passenger coaches in coupes or sectional 
 compartments, each seating six, eight, or 
 ten persons when full, and having no 
 means of direct communication with each 
 other or with the other cars of the train, 
 is one of the features peculiar to foreign 
 roads, and another which may be men- 
 tioned is the retiring rooms provided at 
 the various stations, instead of having 
 any such conveniences upon ordinary pas- 
 senger and express trains. Other features 
 
652 
 
 EIGHTY THOUSAND MILES IN HALF A CENTURY. 
 
 to be named in the foreign system is that 
 of having guards upon passenger trains, 
 who do not control the movements of the 
 trains, their position being thus quite in- 
 ferior to that of the American conductor, 
 and the management of their trains by 
 telegraphic signals from the principal sta- 
 tions, as is the case upon some lines, and 
 which is found to be such an effective 
 safeguard. 
 
 The elevated railway, for cities, is thus 
 far peculiar to America; its extensive in- 
 troduction, notwithstanding its acknowl- 
 edged drawbacks, seems to be only a mat- 
 ter of time, and that in the near future. 
 
 the heads of pedestrians and on awnings, 
 to the diffusion of dirt into upper windows, 
 to the increased danger of life from runa- 
 way horses and the breaking of vehicles 
 against the iron columns, to the darkening 
 of lower stories and shading of the streets 
 so that the same are kept damp long ;ifter 
 wet weather has ceased, and to numerous 
 other accidents and annoyances inherent 
 to such a system of traveling; but these 
 inconveniences and risks appear to have 
 fallen considerably short of the predictions, 
 and at least are submitted to with that 
 facility of adaptation to the inevitable, 
 which is a characteristic trait of Americans. 
 
 METROPOLITAN ELEVATKD RAILROAD, NF.W YORK. 
 
 That there is to be a widely extended 
 introduction of elevated railroads, in the 
 populous and crowded cities, there would 
 seem little ground for doubting, notwith- 
 standing the objections which were at first 
 raised against such a mode of passenger 
 transit. In the city of New York, for in- 
 stance, it was declared that, for the privi- 
 lege of such conveyance, the citizens must 
 habituate themselves to trains thundering 
 over their heads, to thoroughfares blocked 
 with great iron columns, to the liberal dis- 
 tribution of ashes and oil and sparks upon 
 
 The capacities of inventors have re- 
 ceived a new stimulus, by the needs of 
 this kind of locomotion, and many and in- 
 teresting are the improvements which have 
 been brought forward already in this direc- 
 tion, relating respectively to tracks, cars, 
 engines, etc. That the elevated railroad 
 has a great future before it, in most of our 
 great and crowded cities, would appear to 
 be unquestionable ; for, notwithstanding 
 its acknowledged drawbacks, it is admitted 
 to be a well nigh indispensable public con- 
 
 venience. 
 
LXXVIII. 
 
 BURNING OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, ILL., THE COM- 
 MERCIAL METROPOLIS OF THE NORTH- 
 WEST. 1871. 
 
 Most Destructive Conflagration in the History of Civilized Nations. A Thirty Hours' Tornado of Fire 
 in all Directions Vast Billows of Inextinguishable Flame. Upwards of Two Thousand Acres, or 
 Seventy-three Miles of Streets, with 17,460 Buildings, Destroyed : Loss, $200,000,000. Ignoble Ori- 
 gin of the Fire. Fatal Mistake of a Policeman. Combustibles all Around. A Strong Gale Prevail- 
 ing. Frightful Rapidity of the Flames. Destruction of the Water- Works Stores and Warehouses 
 Swept Away. Palaces and Hovels a Common Prey. Engines Sent from Seven States. The Mid- 
 night Scene. Terror Indescribable. Flight for Life. Burning of the Bridges. Helplessness, Des- 
 peration, Death Churches, Hotels, Theaters, in Ashes Fate of the Newspapers, Banks, etc. 
 Explosion of the Gas- Works. Tombs and Graves Consumed. Most Ghastly Spectacle. Nearly 
 100,000 Persons Homeless. The Wail for Help. A World's Sympathies Poured Forth. 
 
 ** Blackened and bleeding, panting, prone 
 
 On the charred fragments of her shattered throne, 
 
 Lies she who stood, but yesterday, alone." BEET HAETE. 
 
 MK. OGUEN'S HOUSE UNTOUCHED IS THE MIDST OF THE GREAT FIRE. 
 
 NT Sunday and Monday, October eighth and ninth, 1871, there 
 occurred in Chicago, the great commercial metropolis of the 
 north-west, a fire unparalleled in the history of the world. 
 The fire originated in a small frame structure in the rear of 
 No. 137 DeKoven street, used as a cow-stable. It was dis- 
 covered at about half-past nine o'clock in the evening, by a policeman, when it was 
 very small, and who, hoping to extinguish it without sounding an alarm, set himself to 
 
654 
 
 BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 work to do so, a fatal miscalculation, as 
 the result soon proved. A strong south- 
 westerly wind was blowing at the time ; 
 no rain had fallen for several weeks previ- 
 ous ; and consequently all combustible 
 matter was prepared for ready ignition. 
 It was also a portion of the city occupied 
 by the poorer classes, principally Bohe- 
 mian emigrant families, and being in the 
 vicinity of several planing mills, shingle 
 mills, and factories, had collected a large 
 quantity of shavings from these places, 
 and stored them in the basements and 
 yards of their premises for winter use. 
 
 All the fire apparatus of the city was 
 brought into requisition, and, considering 
 the difficulties to be encountered, the cour- 
 age and energy of the firemen could not 
 be surpassed. They had just passed 
 through a severe fire twenty-four hours 
 previous, and part of the companies had 
 left the scene of the Saturday night fire 
 but a few hours, when they were again 
 called, exhausted with hard labor, to this 
 fearful scene. 
 
 The flames shot with frightful rapidity 
 from house to house and from board-yard 
 to board-yard, ail human means appearing 
 utterly powerless to stay their progress. 
 On they went, in a northerly direction, 
 covering a space of two or three blocks in 
 width, until the burnt district of the pre- 
 vious night's fire was reached, and this 
 served the purpose of preventing their 
 farther spread on the west side of the 
 river. Sweeping every thing in their 
 course, up to the locality named, the 
 flames leaped across the river, and vio- 
 lently communicated with the buildings 
 there. Quickly they traveled north, de- 
 vouring everything as they went, until 
 that section of the south division which 
 embraced nearly all the grandest struct- 
 ures and thoroughfares was reached, and 
 there seemed to be no encouragement to 
 farther efforts to save the city from its 
 fiery doom. Unfortunately, one of the 
 first public buildings reached by the fire 
 was the water-works; this cut off the 
 water supply, rendering the fire depart- 
 ment useless. 
 
 The awful gale which prevailed filled 
 the air with live coals, and hurled to an 
 immense distance, in every direction, blaz- 
 ing brands and boards, a widespread 
 besom of furious destruction. All of the 
 leading banks of the city, several of the 
 stone church edifices, costly and elegant 
 in the extreme; the beautiful railroad 
 depot of the Michigan Southern and the 
 Hock Island railway companies, also that 
 of the Illinois Central and the Michigan 
 Central railroads ; the court-house and the 
 chamber of commerce ; the Sherman, Tre- 
 mont, Briggs, Palmer, Bigelow, Metropol- 
 itan, and several other hotels, as well as 
 the gigantic Pacific, which was in process 
 of construction ; all the great newspaper 
 establishments; the Crosby opera-house, 
 McVicker's theater, and every other prom- 
 inent place of amusement; the post-office, 
 telegraph offices, Farwell hall, the mag- 
 nificent Drake-Farwell block, the stately 
 dry goods palaces of J. V. Farwell & Co., 
 Field, Leiter & Co., scores of elegant resi- 
 dences in Wabash and Michigan avenues, 
 numbers of elevators in which were stored 
 millions of bushels of grain ; in fact, all 
 that the hand of man had fashioned or 
 reared was completely swept away, as the 
 fire madly rushed to the north. 
 
 With tremendous force, the mighty and 
 uncontrollable element, rushing to the 
 main channel of the river, near its en- 
 trance into Lake Michigan, consumed the 
 bridges, and attacked the north division 
 with relentless fury. All day, on Mon- 
 day, and through the succeeding night, it 
 waged its work of devastation, advancing, 
 with wonderful speed, from block to block, 
 and from street to street, over a vast sur- 
 face, sparing scarcely anything. The 
 destruction of palatial residences and mag- 
 nificent churches continued, while stores 
 and dwellings by the hundreds, together 
 with the costly water-works, the north side 
 gas-works, Rush medical college, the Chi- 
 cago and North-western railway depot, sev- 
 eral immense breweries, coal yards, lum- 
 ber yards, and manufacturing establish- 
 ments of various kinds, and in great 
 numbers, yielded to the resistless enemy. 
 
BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 855 
 
 By midnight, nearly the entire popula- 
 tion of the city had been aroused, and the 
 streets, for an immense distance surround- 
 ing the scene of the disaster, were thronged 
 with excited, swaying humanity, and with 
 all descriptions of vehicles, pressed into 
 service for the hasty removal of household 
 goods and personal effects ; loading and 
 unloading, here, and there, and every- 
 where, was going on in promiscuous con- 
 fusion. Invalids and cripples were car- 
 ried away on improvised ambulances; 
 aged women and helpless infants were 
 hastily borne to places of supposed safety ; 
 people who were utterly overcome with 
 excitement and fatigue were seen sleeping 
 on lounges, trunks and tables, in the 
 street ; and empty houses were forcibly 
 broken open and taken possession of by 
 homeless wanderers, made desperate by the 
 awful surroundings. 
 
 One of the most fearfully thrilling 
 scenes of the great conflagration, as nar- 
 rated, occurred in the eastern section of 
 the north division. When it became ap- 
 parent that all hope of saving the city was 
 lost, after the flames had pushed down to 
 the main branch of the river, the citizens 
 of the north side, who were over to see the 
 main theater of the fire, thought it time 
 to go over to their own division, and save 
 what they could. Accordingly, they beat 
 a rapid retreat toward the tunnel and 
 bridges. The former of these thorough- 
 fares was impassable at three o'clock. 
 Clark street had not been opened for some 
 time, and State street was in a blaze from 
 one end to the other. Rush street bridge 
 proved to be the only means of getting 
 away from the south side, and over that 
 bridge the affrighted fugitives poured in 
 thousands. Their flight was not quicker 
 than was the advance of the flames. The 
 latter jumped the river with miraculous 
 swiftness, and ran along the northern sec- 
 tion like lightning. So rapid was the 
 march of the fiery element, driven by the 
 Jieavy gale, that the people were glad 
 enough to escape unscathed. Everything 
 was abandoned. Horses and wagons were 
 used merely as a means of flight. Few 
 
 persons in the direct course of the fire 
 thought about saving anything but their 
 lives and those of their families, such were 
 the speed, and power, and omnipresence of 
 the destroyer. Having reached Chicago 
 avenue, the conflagration took an eastward 
 turn, and cut off from flight northward all 
 who remained in the unburned section ly- 
 ing between Dearborn street and the lake. 
 The inhabitants of that district flattered 
 themselves that their homes might escape 
 the general destruction. But the gale 
 changed its course in a few minutes more 
 toward the east, and the entire quarter of 
 the city specified became a frightful pen, 
 having a wall of fire on three sides and the 
 fierce rolling lake on the other. 
 
 And now a scene transpired, which, as 
 described, was scarcely ever equaled. 
 The houses were abandoned in all haste. 
 Into wagons were thrown furniture, cloth- 
 ing, and bedding. Mothers caught up 
 their infants in their arms. Men dragged 
 along the aged and helpless, and the en- 
 tire horror-stricken multitude beat their 
 course to the sands. It was a hegira 
 never to be forgotten. 
 
 Even the homes of the dead were sought 
 for as food by the all-devouring element ; 
 for, after ravaging to the limits of the 
 city, and with the wind dead against it, 
 the fire caught the dried grasses, ran along 
 the fences, and in a moment covered in a 
 burning glory the Catholic cemetery and 
 the grassy stretches of Lincoln park. 
 The marbles over the graves cracked and 
 baked, and fell in glowing embers on the 
 hot turf. Flames shot up from the rest- 
 ing places of the dead, and the living fugi- 
 tives, screaming with terror, made, for a 
 moment, one of the ghastliest spectacles 
 ever beheld. The receiving-vault, solidly 
 built, and shrouded by foliage, fell under 
 the terrific flame, and the corpses dropped 
 or burst from the coffins, as the fire tore 
 through the walls of the frightful charnel- 
 house. 
 
 On the fire obtaining strong and over- 
 powering headway, the flames seemed to 
 go in all directions ; in some places, like 
 huge waves, dashing to and fro, leaping 
 
656 
 
 BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 up and down, turning and twisting, and 
 pouring, now and then, a vast column of 
 smoke and blaze hundreds of feet into the 
 air, like a solid, perpendicular shaft of 
 molten metal. In other places, it would 
 dart out long streaks or serpentine shapes, 
 which swooped down over the blazing path 
 into some of the yet unburnt buildings, 
 which seemed pierced, and kindled instan- 
 taneously. There were also billows of 
 flame, that rolled along like water, utterly 
 submerging everything in their course. 
 Here and there, when some lofty building 
 became sheeted in flame, the walls would 
 weaken and waver like india-rubber; they 
 sometimes swayed almost across the street, 
 and immediately fell with a direful crash ; 
 a momentary darkness followed, and then 
 fresh glares of light from a newly kindled 
 fire. The kerosene-oil stores made an 
 awful but sublime display, as the tower- 
 ing flames rolled aloft, seeming to pene- 
 trate the very heavens. 
 
 The huge iron reservoir of the gas-works 
 exploded with tremendous force and sound, 
 demolishing the adjacent buildings, and 
 the very earth seemed actually belching 
 out fire. The walls of white marble, the 
 buff limestone of Illinois, the red and olive 
 sandstones of Ohio and Marquette, the 
 speckled granite of Minnesota, and the blue 
 Lockport limestone of New York, all ap- 
 peared to suffer about alike in the ravag- 
 ing element. Everything the power of 
 wind and flame could level met that doom ; 
 everything it could lift was swept away. 
 The furious fire consumed its own smoke, 
 leaving but few traces of stain upon the 
 bare standing walls. 
 
 Tn a comparatively short space of time, 
 nearly all the public buildings were either 
 Consumed or in flames, hotels, theaters, 
 churches, court-house, railway depots, 
 banks, water-works, gas-works, and thou- 
 sands of dwellings, stores, warehouses, and 
 manufactories, with all their vast and val- 
 uable contents, were whelmed in one com- 
 mon vortex of ruin. The fire engines 
 were powerless. The streams of water 
 appeared to dry up the moment they 
 touched the flames. An attempt was 
 
 made to blow up the buildings , but this 
 availed little, the high wind carrying the 
 flaming brands far across the space thus 
 cleared away. To add to the horrors of 
 the scene, the wooden pavements in some 
 places took fire, driving the firemen from 
 stations where their precious efforts might 
 possibly have been available. But noth- 
 ing could long resist the terrible heat of 
 the flames, which seemed to strike right 
 through the most solid walls. Buildings 
 supposed to be absolutely fire-proof burned 
 like tinder, and crumbled to pieces like 
 charred paper. Engines and fire-appa- 
 ratus had arrived from seven different 
 States, and the working force was prodig- 
 ious, but all this was of no avail. 
 
 According to the most reliable estimate, 
 the number of acres burned over in the 
 West Division of the city, where the fire 
 originated, was nearly two hundred, in- 
 cluding sixteen acres which were laid bare 
 by the fire of the previous evening. This 
 district contained about five hundred build- 
 ings, averaging four or five occupants each. 
 These buildings were generally of the 
 poorer class, and comprised a great many 
 boarding-houses, saloons, and minor hotels, 
 with a few factories, also several lumber 
 and coal yards and planing mills, a grain 
 elevator, and a depot. 
 
 In the South Division, the burned area 
 comprised some four hundred and sixty 
 acres. With the exception of the Lind 
 block, on the river bank, between Ran- 
 dolph and Lake streets, it included all 
 north of an irregular line running diago- 
 nally from the intersection of Polk street 
 with the river, to the corner of Congress 
 street and Michigan avenue. This dis- 
 trict, though comparatively small in ex- 
 tent, was by far the most valuable in the 
 city, the very heart and head of Chicago 
 as a commercial center. It contained the 
 great majority of all those structures 
 which were at once costly in themselves, 
 and filled with the wealth of merchandise 
 that made the city the great emporium of 
 the North-west. All the wholesale stores 
 of any considerable magnitude, all the 
 daily and weekly newspaper offices, all the 
 
BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
658 
 
 BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 principal banks, the leading hotels, many 
 extensive factories, all the offices of insur- 
 ance men, lawyers, produce brokers, etc., 
 the custom-house, court-house, chamber of 
 commerce, all the prominent public halls 
 and places of amusement, many coal yards, 
 the monster Central railroad depot, with 
 its various buildings for the transaction of 
 business of the Illinois Central, Michigan 
 Central, and Chicago, Burlington and 
 Quincy railroads, &c., &c. There were 
 nearly thirty-seven hundred buildings de- 
 stroyed in this division, including sixteen 
 hundred stores, twenty-eight hotels, sixty 
 manufacturing establishments, and the 
 homes of about twenty-two thousand 
 people. 
 
 In the North Division, the flames swept 
 nearly fifteen hundred acres, destroying 
 thirteen thousand three hundred buildings, 
 the homes of nearly seventy-five thousand 
 people. These structures included more 
 than six hundred stores and one hundred 
 manufacturing establishments, including 
 McCormick's reaper factory, a sugar refin- 
 ery, box mills, etc. The lake shore, from 
 Chicago avenue north, was lined with 
 breweries. The river banks were piled 
 high with lumber and coal, three grain 
 elevators stood near the fork of the river, 
 and near them the Galena depot. Many 
 hotels, and private storehouses for produce 
 and other property, also existed in this 
 neighborhood, and the wholesale meat 
 markets on Kinzie street were a busy cen- 
 ter of trade. North Clark, Wells, and 
 North and Chicago avenues, were princi- 
 pally occupied by retail stores. 
 
 The total area burned over was two 
 thousand one hundred and twenty-four 
 acres, or almost three and one-third square 
 miles. This area contained about seventy- 
 three miles of streets, and seventeen thou- 
 sand four hundred and fifty buildings, the 
 homes of nearly one hundred thousand 
 people. All this transpired in the brief 
 space of thirty hours, and the aggregate 
 loss was not far from $200,000,000. But 
 saddest of all was the great loss of life, the 
 precise extent of which will probably 
 never be known. 
 
 For a city thus suddenly and tragically 
 overwhelmed in ruin, the sympathies of the 
 whole civilized world were spontaneously 
 poured forth, and, in response to the cry for 
 help that went up from her borders, instant 
 and abundant relief was sent from every 
 part of the Union. The national govern- 
 ment, at the instance of Lieut. Gen. Sher- 
 idan, whose activity in endeavoring to 
 stay the progress of the conflagration, and, 
 subsequently, in preserving order, was so 
 conspicuous, sent thousands of tents and 
 army rations ; societies and private citi- 
 zens sent money, clothing, and provis- 
 ions; railroad companies dispatched spe- 
 cial trains laden with these gifts ; and in 
 every city and town, public meetings were 
 held, and money raised to aid the homeless 
 and suffering. From Canada and Europe, 
 too, came assurances of sympathy and 
 proffers of assistance. The total value of 
 the charities thus bestowed, in provisions, 
 clothing, and money, amounted to millions 
 of dollars, all of which was distributed 
 with such promptness and wisdom that 
 despair was forestalled, epidemic disease 
 prevented, and hope kindled in the hearts 
 of all. 
 
 To narrate more than a few of the many 
 instances of heroism, affection, tragedy 
 and crime, incident to a disaster so wide- 
 spread and awful, would be simply impossi- 
 ble. Gangs of armed ruffians were every- 
 where patrolling about, hunting for plunder, 
 and breaking into safes with impunity, 
 remonstrance was met with a deadly blow, 
 and few had the temerity to interfere. 
 Heated with whiskey and excitement, they 
 caused a complete reign of terror, and, 
 though the mayor had issued a proclama- 
 tion directing the closing of the saloons, 
 no attention was paid to it, and the disor- 
 derly element had its own sway. 
 
 In Wabash and Michigan avenues, and, 
 indeed, in all the places where the richer 
 classes lived, the scenes enacted were un- 
 paralleled. Women who had never known 
 what a care was, and consequently were, 
 as would be supposed, utterly incapable of 
 bearing with courage such a calamity as 
 the destruction of their homes, displayed 
 
BURNING OP CHICAGO. 
 
 659 
 
 instances of heroism and love worthy to 
 be written of in story and song. Thus, a 
 prominent lady of Wabash avenue had 
 been deserted by her servants as soon as 
 it became certain that the house was 
 doomed ; they went off, taking with them 
 whatever they could lay their hands on. 
 She, her daughter, and her invalid hus- 
 band, were alone in the house, and the 
 flames were rapidly approaching. There 
 was not a moment to spare, and the two 
 women carried away in their arms the 
 sick man, and brought him in safety be- 
 yond the reach of the fire. 
 
 The most pitiable sights were the sick 
 children, half dead, lying crouched on the 
 sidewalks, in many cases with barely any 
 covering on them. A pathetic scene 
 was noticed on the corner of La Salle 
 and Randolph streets, where two little 
 girls were lying, terror-stricken, by the 
 side of their dead sister, whose re- 
 mains presented a harrowing spectacle. 
 She had been too late to escape from 
 under a falling building on Clark street, 
 and had then been extricated and borne 
 away to the corner by her almost perish- 
 ing sisters. 
 
 The preservation of Mr. Ogden's resi- 
 dence, solitary and alone, in the very heart 
 of the fire, was one of the most memorable 
 incidents in the history of this great dis- 
 aster. The happy result in this case was 
 accounted for by the fact that the house, 
 a large and comfortable frame structure, 
 was in the middle of a block, all the other 
 lots of which formed its elegant garden. 
 On the streets upon its four sides were not 
 many large buildings; while just as the 
 fire approached it from the south-west 
 there was a slight lull in the fury of the 
 
 wind. This allowed the flames to shoot 
 straighter into the air, and, before the 
 fiery tempest had again bent them forward 
 in search of further fuel, the structures 
 upon which they were immediately feed- 
 ing had been reduced to ashes, and a break 
 made in the terrible wall of fire. The 
 exertions of Mr. Ogden and his family, in 
 covering the roof and walls of the house- 
 with carpets, quilts, and blankets, which 
 were kept constantly wet with water from 
 a cistern which happened to be in his place, 
 also aided materially in the saving of their 
 home, which was the only unharmed build- 
 ing for miles ! 
 
 One of the most notable events was the 
 fate of the Tribune building, erected at 
 great cost, and, as it was supposed, with 
 undoubted fire-proof qualities. A wide 
 space had been burned around it, and its 
 safety was thought to be assured. A pa- 
 trol of men swept off live coals and put 
 out fires in the side walls, and another 
 patrol watched the roofs. Up to four 
 o'clock in the morning, the reporters had 
 sent in detailed accounts of the fire. At 
 five o'clock the forms were sent down. 
 In ten minutes the two eight-cylinders in 
 the press-room would have been throwing 
 off the morning paper. Then the front 
 basement was discovered to be on fire. 
 The plug on the corner was tapped, but 
 there was no water. The pressmen were 
 driven from their presses. The attaches 
 of the establishment said good-bye to the 
 finest newspaper office in the western 
 country, and withdrew to a place of 
 safety. In a very short time the building 
 was enveloped in fire, and by ten o'clock 
 the whole magnificent structure was a mass 
 of blackened ruins. 
 
LXXIX. 
 THE NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 1872. 
 
 Popular Organizations in the Interests of Labor. Changes Sought in the Relations between Producers 
 and Consumers. General Declaration of Principles and Aims. A System of Universal Co-operation 
 Proposed. Results to be Realized by such Combinations. Patrons of Husbandry and Sovereigns of 
 Industry. Initiative Proceedings in 1867. First Grange Founded in Washington, D. C. Agricul- 
 ture the Grand Basis. Mutual Protection and Advancement. Small Encouragement at the Begin- 
 ning. Immense Growth in Five Years. Activity in the West and South. Social and Moral Aspects. 
 Plan of Business Action. Partisan Prejudices Disavowed No Political Tests Involved. Opin- 
 ions of Eminent Leaders Cited. Views of Foreign Publicists. Vital Point in the New System. 
 Commercial and Financial Theories. Grain and Cotton Products. Alleged Errors in Trade Cus- 
 toms. Individual vs. Associated Efforts. ' Middlemen ' a Disadvantage. Substitute for Their Inter- 
 vention The Case Illustrated. Difficulties and Remedies. 
 
 "The ultimate object of thin organization IB for mutual Insrrueti.TO and protection, to lichtrn labor by diffusing a knowledge of KB aim* 
 and the mind by tracing the beautiful la*"s the great Creator has established in the universe, and to enlarge our views of 
 " 
 
 . 
 
 and purposes, expand the mind by tracing the beautiful la*"s the great Creat 
 Creative wisdom and power." CONSTITUTION OF TBK NATIONAL QRANUB. 
 
 ^ CJfesPjS^^NE of the most active and vigorous co-operative bodies which have 
 been organized, on a popular basis, within the last few years of the 
 national century, and which now has its associate 
 representation in almost all parts of the country, 
 is what is known as the National Grangers and, 
 similarly, Patrons of Husbandry, and Sovereigns 
 of Industry, devoted, as these names imply, to 
 the interests of agricultural labor, and kindred in- 
 dustries. Their greatest strength is found in the 
 western portion of the republic, though by 
 no means confined to that section, affiliated 
 branches of the order being found, in a more 
 or less flourishing condition, in the southern, 
 eastern, and Pacific regions, as well. 
 
 Though dating the initiative of its existence 
 no earlier than 1867, it was not, in fact, until 
 1872, that the order became sufficiently for- 
 midable in numbers and influence to attract 
 wide-spread attention. As illustrating, how- 
 ever, the rapid growth which, in time, charac- 
 terized this movement, it is stated that, in August. 1867, Messrs. 0. H. Kelley and 
 William Saunders, at that time connected with the government departments in Wash- 
 ington, D. C., and known as intelligent and far-seeing observers of public affairs in 
 
NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
 661 
 
 their relations to business and labor, both 
 gentlemen having been farmers, and long 
 identified with that class, conceived the 
 idea of forming a society, having for its 
 object their mutual instruction and pro- 
 tection. 
 
 In this view, they were joined, on con- 
 sultation, by others, and a circular was 
 drawn up, embracing the various points it 
 was deemed desirable to embody, in pre- 
 senting the plan of the Grange to the 
 countrv. On the 4th of December, 1867, 
 in Washington, D. C., the first Grange 
 was organized, being officered as follows : 
 William Saunders, master ; J. K. Thomp- 
 son, lecturer; Rev. A. B. Grosh, chaplain ; 
 0. H. Kelley, secretary. This became the 
 National Grange. Soon after, a subordi- 
 nate grange was established in that city, 
 as a school of instruction, and to test the 
 efficiency of the ritual. This grange num- 
 bered about sixty members. In April, 
 1868, Mr. Kelley was appointed to the 
 position of traveling agent. The first dis- 
 pensation was issued for a grange at Har- 
 risburg, Pa. ; the second at Fredonia, N. 
 Y. ; the third at Columbus, 0. ; the next 
 at Chicago, 111. In Minnesota, six granges 
 were organized. Thus, the whole number 
 during the first year was but ten : in 1869, 
 thirty-nine dispensations were granted ; in 
 1870, thirty-eight ; in 1871, one hundred* 
 and twenty-five ; and during the next year, 
 more than eight hundred dispensations for 
 subordinate granges were issued from the 
 headquarters at Washington, and the total 
 increase during 1872 was rising eleven 
 hundred. 
 
 The declaration of principles put forth, 
 authoritatively, by the national grange, 
 leaves no room for doubt as to the charac- 
 ter and purposes avowed by this now pow- 
 erful order. Starting with the proclama- 
 tion of union by the strong and faithful 
 tie of Agriculture, with a mutual resolve 
 to labor for the good of the order, the 
 country, and mankind, and indorsing the 
 motto, ' In essentials, unity, ia non-essen- 
 tials liberty, in all things charity,' the 
 following specific objects are set forth 
 as those characterizing the order and 
 
 by which the cause is to be advanced, 
 namely : 
 
 To develop a better and higher man- 
 hood and womanhood among those consti- 
 tuting the order ; to enhance the comforts 
 and attractions of home, and strengthen 
 the attachment to their pursuits ; to foster 
 mutual understanding and co-operation; 
 to maintain inviolate the laws, and emu- 
 late each other in hastening the good time 
 coming ; to reduce expenses, both individ- 
 ual and co-operate ; to buy less and pro- 
 duce more, in order to make their farms 
 self-sustaining; to diversify crops, and 
 crop no more than can be cultivated ; to 
 condense the weight of exports, selling less 
 in the bushel and more on hoof and in 
 fleece ; to systematize work, and calculate 
 intelligently on probabilities ; to discon- 
 tinue the credit system, the mortgage sys- 
 tem, the fashion system, and every other 
 system tending to prodigality and bank- 
 ruptcy; to meet together, talk together, 
 work together, buy and sell together, and 
 in general act together for mutual protec- 
 tion and advancement, as association may 
 require; to avoid litigation as much as 
 possible, by arbitration in the grange; to 
 constantly strive to secure entire harmony, 
 good will, and vital brotherhood, and to 
 make the Order perpetual ; to endeavor to 
 suppress personal, local, sectional and na- 
 tional prejudices, all unhealthy rivalry, and 
 all selfish ambition. 
 
 In regard to the principles and aims of 
 this organization in respect to business, 
 concerning which much public discussion 
 has taken place, the statement is made 
 by the order, authoritatively and explic- 
 itly, that it aims to bring producers and 
 consumers, farmers and manufacturers, 
 into the most direct and friendly relation 
 possible, and, in order to fulfill this, it is 
 necessary that a surplus of middlemen be 
 dispensed with, not in any spirit of un- 
 friendliness to them, but because such a 
 class is not needed, their surplus and ex- 
 actions diminishing the raiser's profits. 
 
 Emphatically disavowing any intention 
 to wage aggressive warfare against other 
 interests, the grangers assert that all their 
 
662 
 
 NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
 acts and efforts, so far as business is con- 
 cerned, are not only for the benefit of the 
 producer and consumer, but also for all 
 other interests that tend to bring these 
 two parties into speedy and economical 
 contact ; hence, they hold that transporta- 
 tion companies of every kind are necessary, 
 that the interests of such companies are 
 intimately connected with the welfare of 
 the grange, harmonious action being mu- 
 tually advantageous, keeping in view one 
 
 While declaring themselves as not the ene- 
 mies of railroads, navigable and irrigating 
 canals, nor of any corporations that will 
 advance industrial welfare, nor yet of any 
 laboring classes, the grangers are opposed 
 to such spirit and management of any cor- 
 poration, or enterprise, as tend to oppress 
 the people and rob them of their just 
 profit; and, while not enemies to capital, 
 they oppose the tyranny of monopolies, and 
 urge that the antagonism between capital 
 
 SYMBOLS OF THE OO-OPERATlYE LABOR ORGANIZATIONS. 
 
 of the primary bases of action upon which 
 the order rests, namely, that individual 
 happiness depends upon general prosperity. 
 To this end, the order advocates for 
 every state the increase, in every practica- 
 ble way, of all facilities for transporting 
 cheaply to the seaboard, or between home 
 producers and consumers, all the produc- 
 tions of the country, the fixed purpose of 
 action being, in this respect, to open out 
 the channels in nature's great arteries, that 
 the life-blood of commerce may flow freely. 
 
 and labor be removed by common consent, 
 and by enlightened statesmanship worthy 
 of the nineteenth century. Opposition is de- 
 clared, also, to excessive salaries, high rates 
 of interest, and exorbitant per cent, profits 
 in trade, as greatly increasing the burdens 
 of the people, and bearing no proper pro- 
 portion to the profits of producers. 
 
 The relations of the grange movement 
 to political parties and questions have 
 formed, almost from the first, the subject 
 of universal criticism. It is emphatically 
 
NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
 663 
 
 declared, however, as the oft-repeated truth 
 taught in the organic law of the order, that 
 the grange, national, state, or subordinate, 
 is not a political or party organization ; 
 and yet, while no grange, if true to its obli- 
 gations, can discuss political or religious 
 questions, nor call political conventions or 
 nominate candidates, nor ever discuss their 
 merits in its meetings, the principles enun- 
 ciated by the order are, it is claimed, such 
 as underlie all true politics and all true 
 statesmanship, and, if properly carried out, 
 tending to purify the whole political atmos- 
 phere of the country; that, though seek- 
 ing the greatest good to the greatest num- 
 ber, no one by becoming a grange member 
 gives up that inalienable right and duty 
 which belong to every American citizen, 
 to take a proper interest in the politics of 
 his country. On the contrary, the grange 
 pronounces it to be the right and duty of 
 every member to do all in his power legiti- 
 mately to influence, for good, the action of 
 any political party to which he belongs ; 
 that it is his duty to do all he can, in his 
 own party, to put down bribery, corrup- 
 tion, and trickery, to see that none but 
 competent, faithful, and honest men, who 
 will unflinchingly stand by the interests of 
 the order are nominated for all positions of 
 trust, the governing principle in this re- 
 spect to be, that the office should seek the 
 man and not the man the office. The 
 broad principle is acknowledged, that dif- 
 ference of opinion is no crime, and that 
 progress towards truth is made by differ- 
 ences of opinion, while the fault lies in bit- 
 terness of controversy. A proper equality, 
 equity and fairness, protection for the 
 weak, restraint upon the strong, in short, 
 justly distributed burdens, and justly dis- 
 tributed power, the grange holds to be 
 American ideas, the very essence of Amer- 
 ican independence, to advocate the con- 
 trary being unworthy the sons and daugh- 
 ters of an American republic. Cherishing 
 the belief, too, that sectionalism is and of 
 right should be dead and buried with the 
 past, the order declares its work to be for 
 the present and future, and consequently 
 recognizes in its agricultural -brotherhood, 
 
 and its associational purposes, no north, 
 no south, no east, no west, and to every 
 member is reserved the freeman's right to 
 affiliate with any party that will best carry 
 out his principles. 
 
 The wonderful growth of the grange 
 movement, especially throughout the west, 
 is asserted by Mr. J. K. Hudson, an in- 
 telligent and reliable authority, to have 
 been without a parallel in the history of 
 associational movements in this country; 
 and this fact he attributes to the condition 
 of the public mind which existed at the 
 time of the founding of the movement, 
 the prevailing feeling of distrust towards 
 the organized interests of every kind then 
 existing, the common indignation against 
 the injustice of the unfair distribution of 
 profits, the prevailing discrimination 
 against agricultural labor which was, year 
 after year, constantly kept alive in the 
 minds of the farmers of the west by the 
 fast decreasing profits, buying goods sold 
 at heavy profits, paying burdensome taxes 
 brought upon them by unscrupulous rings 
 which had squandered and stolen the pub- 
 lic funds, while the result of the year's 
 product and sale showed a loss to honest 
 labor. 
 
 Such a remarkable feature in American 
 life as the rise and progress of this move- 
 ment has not failed to attract attention in 
 foreign lands, and particularly in England. 
 Thus, at the Social Science Congress of 
 Great Britain, assembled in 1875, the Earl 
 of Roseberry, president of the association, 
 after speaking of the various 'Unions' to 
 be found in the United States, such as the 
 Sons of Toil, the Brethren of Labor, etc., 
 characterized as incomparably above these, 
 "the gigantic association of Patrons of 
 Husbandry, commonly called the Grange, 
 a great agricultural, co-operative, inde- 
 pendent union. Its progress has been 
 amazing. Its first grange, or lodge, was 
 formed in the last month of 1867 ; there 
 are at this moment 20,500, with 1,311,226 
 members, and at the end of the year it is 
 certain that they will have thirty thousand, 
 with two million members. The order is 
 practically identified with the agricultural 
 
664 
 
 NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
 665 
 
 population of twenty-six states, and with 
 two-thirds of the farmers in ten others. 
 In Missouri alone there are said to be 
 2,150 granges; they are making their 
 way in Canada. Pennsylvania began the 
 year with six lodges, and at this moment 
 she has eight hundred." In regard to the 
 cause of this prodigious increase, the earl 
 thinks it easily accounted for, in view of 
 the fact that, as alleged, the membership 
 adds not less than fifty per cent, to the 
 income of the order; and their enterprise 
 and importance are further made manifest 
 by the fact, as stated, that the California 
 grangers have their own fleet, and ship 
 their corn direct to Liverpool, by which 
 they saved two million dollars, in freights, 
 in a single year, their vessels bringing, 
 as return cargoes, tea, sugar, coffee, silk, 
 and other commodities, which are retailed 
 to members at cost price, and a system is 
 being organized by which their ships re- 
 turn with loads of every foreign article 
 which the members may need, thus mak- 
 ing them an independent mercantile na- 
 tion. In a similar strain, it is remarked 
 by Mr. Leavitt, an ardent advocate of the 
 order, that, although the fact be a disa- 
 greeable one to some classes of non-pro- 
 ducers, it is none the less undeniable that 
 the rugged health of the movement arises 
 from its direct bearing upon the pockets 
 of its members, the chief advantage be- 
 ing the wholesale buying and selling 
 which is done through the machinery of 
 the order, differing, of course, in different 
 states ; thus, in the west, a large part of 
 the gain is from the wholesale disposal of 
 grain, and its handling through grange 
 elevators, while, in the south, planters 
 have saved large sums by using the grange 
 agents in disposing of their cotton. 
 
 This last named consideration appears 
 to be a vital point in the principles and 
 aims of the grangers, and is urged very 
 strongly in the writings of those who are 
 the acknowledged spokesmen of the order. 
 According to the argument of Mr. Aiken, 
 a leading member at the south, the philos- 
 ophy of the order is based upon the idea 
 of affording mutual benefit to the producer 
 
 and consumer by bringing them together. 
 This position he enforces by stating the 
 disadvantage the farmer labors under, by 
 the system of trade at present carried on. 
 To dispose of his crop as he pleases, says 
 Mr. Aiken, is an enjoyable privilege, and, 
 when he exchange? his products for the 
 cash in hand he experiences a satisfaction 
 not suggested by the receipt of bills of sale 
 made at a distance ; those who buy from 
 the farmer in a home market, however, 
 are most generally speculators, or ' middle- 
 men ' of the genuine stamp ; they buy 
 simply to sell at a profit, and if they, by 
 their better judgment and astuteness, can 
 realize a handsome profit upon their in- 
 vestment, they should not be condemned 
 as tradesmen. If A buys B's crop, and 
 nets fifty per cent, upon the purchase, he 
 was no more to blame than B was for sell- 
 ing to him ; both transactions were legiti- 
 mate, but the result would show there was 
 something erroneous in this method of 
 dealing the error was that farmer B did 
 not properly comprehend the ' tricks of 
 trade,' he had not studied the difference 
 between wholesale and retail, between lo- 
 cal and through freights, between individ- 
 ual and combined efforts, between isola- 
 tion and co-operation. The purchase of a 
 single article, the shipment of a single 
 crop, the efforts of a single individual, are 
 all alike in their results, and of minor 
 importance to tradesmen ; but where the 
 purchases are made by wholesale, crops 
 are grouped together for shipment, and the 
 entire transaction submitted to a single 
 disbursing agent, the commission on sales 
 is diminished, the cost of transportation 
 is reduced, and the aggregated profits be- 
 come a handsome amount. Just so the 
 ' middleman ' acts ; he buys individually, 
 but groups his purchases and ships col- 
 lectively, is his own disbursing agent, 
 and pockets the results of his profitable 
 labors. It is exactly in this capacity that 
 the grange proposes to act for the farmer. 
 Similar in its spirit and principles of 
 fraternity and co-operation is the organiza- 
 tion, so increasingly prosperous, known as 
 the Sovereigns of Industry. As defined 
 
666 
 
 NATIONAL GRANGE MOVEMENT. 
 
 by Mr. Alger, a prominent exponent of 
 the society's aims, its members maintain 
 that the true desideratum is to raise the 
 quality and quantity of every sort of use- 
 ful production to the maximum, and to 
 reduce the cost both of creation and distri- 
 bution to the minimum ; and, with this 
 end in view, holding that men should be 
 producers of good in some form, and that 
 their sum of goods will be perfected by 
 equitable exchanges, they have already 
 begun the systematic organization of a 
 method of bringing all kinds of producers 
 and consumers into direct contact, for 
 their common gain and to the universal 
 advantage, the system being intended to 
 prevent the waste of labor, and to put an 
 end to the exaction of profit without any 
 correspondent creation of value or use, and 
 to swallow up the bitter rivalries and ani- 
 mosities of labor and capital and trade in 
 an inclusive harmonizing of them all. In 
 the further declaration of the purposes of 
 
 the order, upon which its action as above 
 indicated is based, it is urged that the 
 master principle of a true civilization must 
 be the direct application of labor to the 
 production of the goods of life. In utter 
 opposition, however, to this, is the applica- 
 tion of artifice to obtain money from those 
 who possess it, in order that the obtainer 
 may command the goods of life without 
 producing them. The only real remedy, 
 says the declaration of this order, is 
 the overthrow of the existing monopoly 
 and gambling concentrated in the present 
 system of money, and the assignment of 
 its just prerogatives to productive labor; 
 an end must be put to all those forms of 
 speculation which simply transfer money 
 from hand to hand without any use or 
 equivalent, and an end must be put also to 
 the enormous profits exacted by the dis- 
 tributors of goods who create no value but 
 get rich out of the earnings of productive 
 labor. 
 
LXXX. 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF FREE POPULAR EDUCATION. 
 
 1874. 
 
 An Experiment in Behalf of the Highest Civilization. Condition of the Country Previous to such Efforts. 
 Early Scenes and Customs. Public Law Invoked and Applied. Impulse Given to the Work. Prog- 
 ress and Kesults. America in the Van. Most Enlightened and Successful System in the World. 
 Female Education. Colleges, Universities, etc. A Very Modern Idea. No National System of Edu- 
 cation. Undertaken hy the Individual States. Effect of Wise Legislation. State Vieingwith State. 
 School-houses in " ye olden time." The East and the West. Wonderful Changes in Public Opinion. 
 Some Strange Contrasts. Architectural Splendor of the Present Day. Ingenious Helps and Appli- 
 ances. Congressional Grants in Aid of the Cause. Government Bureau at Washington. Grand Aim 
 and Scope. Standard of Female Instruction Raised. Principles and Methods. The Higher Institu- 
 tions of Learning. Ideas and Plans at the Start. Founding of Harvard, Yale, etc. Then and Now. 
 Nearly 400 Colleges iu the U. S. Some 8,000,000 Common School Pupils. 
 
 "No nation cm expect to proiper if the education of the people be neglected." Qloaos WisemoTOir. 
 
 HE present year may be said to complete the period and exhibit the re- 
 ft ', suits of some two hundred years of free popular education, as established 
 ^ and fostered by the law of the land, the fact being, in this matter, that, 
 f though no comprehensive system of national education, under national 
 jg^^' i". _ law, exists in the United States at the present time, 
 
 the whole interest being within State or local juris- 
 diction, the legislative assemblies of the colonies, 
 particularly those of Massachusetts and Connecti- 
 cut, gave early attention to the subject, at least in 
 respect to its more immediate claims and necessi- 
 ties. It is a decidedly modern idea, that the State 
 at large, and each man and woman in particular, is 
 responsible for the proper education of every child. 
 Those conspicuous figures in history, Alfred and 
 Charlemagne, seem to have had a glimmering of 
 that idea, but the times were too dark, too stern for 
 them. During the whole of the middle Ages, little 
 more is to be seen than priestly schools, chiefly in- 
 tended for the education of the clergy, but opened in 
 certain places for the laity also. Schools for the nation at large, and supported by 
 the nation at large, were not dreamed of. As late, even, as the seventeenth century, 
 the state of the lower and middle classes, so far as education was concerned, was 
 quite discouraging. There were church schools, town schools, private schools, scat- 
 
 THE SCHOOLrHOi:SE AS IT WAS. 
 
668 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 tered about here and there, a few good, 
 some indifferent, most of them poor ; but 
 as to any efficient machinery that should 
 reach every locality, and benefit every 
 class, this was reserved to advancing gen- 
 erations, and magnificent indeed has been 
 the realization. 
 
 As already intimated, the sources of 
 education were opened up at aa early pe- 
 riod in the settlement of the country, and, 
 in spite of all difficulties that presented 
 themselves, the public feeling was that 
 the best should be done that the times 
 would permit. It may be said, however, 
 that not until 1644 just two hundred 
 
 the laws provided for the schoolmas-ter 
 and the school, each township of fifty fam- 
 ilies being bound to maintain a teacher of 
 reading and writing, while each of a hun- 
 dred families was called upon to set up a 
 grammar school. According to the phra- 
 seology of the legislative enactment by 
 Massachusetts 
 
 " It is therefore ordered y' every towne- 
 ship in this jurisdiction after y e Lord hath 
 increased y ln to y number of 50 houshold- 
 ers shall then forthwith appoint one within 
 the towne to teach all such children as 
 shall resort to him to write and reade, 
 whose wages shall be paid either by y* 
 
 
 YALE CULLEOE IN 17&4. 
 
 OLD KING'S Ct>LLEGE. 
 
 years ago did this public feeling assume 
 an effectively organized form, and, in a 
 short time, laws were enacted which so 
 shaped matters as to insure permanency 
 and progress. Thus, in Massachusetts, 
 
 
 FIRST HARVARD COLLEGE. 
 
 parents or masters of such children, or by 
 y* inhabitants in generall by way of sup- 
 ply, as y e maior part of those y' order y* 
 prudentials of y* town shall appoint, pro- 
 vided those y' send their children be not 
 
TWO HUNDRED YEAES OP EDUCATION. 
 
 669 
 
 oppressed by paying much more y" they 
 can have y m taught for in other townes." 
 
 The example thus set was generally 
 imitated in the various New England set- 
 tlements, Connecticut being, in fact, in 
 the very van, or at least contemporaneous 
 with the most alert and earnest in the 
 good cause. Connecticut, too, laid the 
 
 of late years, by the organization of teach- 
 ers' associations, teachers' institutes, etc. 
 Pennsylvania made early provision for 
 public schools, namely, in the latter part 
 of the seventeenth century, but it was not 
 until 1834 that a thorough and compre- 
 hensive plan of popular education was 
 pat in operation by legislative ordinance. 
 
 XOBTH-WEKTJiKS UMIVEKSITV. 
 
 foundations at an early period, of an am- 
 ple school fund, by setting apart for that 
 purpose, in 1795, the income of the sale 
 of lands in Ohio which were the property 
 of the state, reaching a value, in some 
 fifty years, of more than two million dol- 
 lars. Ehode Island established a system 
 of free schools by legislation in 1800. 
 The common school system of Maine is 
 identical with that of Massachusetts, the 
 two states having been one until 1820. 
 New Hampshire and Vermont were not 
 behindhand in prescribing methods and 
 providing means of general education. 
 In the state of New York, a school fund, 
 now amounting to millions of dollars, was 
 commenced to be raised in 1805, from the 
 sale of some half a million acres of state 
 lands, and the present system of free edu- 
 cation was founded in 1812. New Jer- 
 sey's school system has greatly improved, 
 
 Maryland was much later in the field, pro- 
 posing schools long before she established 
 them. The southern colonies were, for a 
 considerable period, lacking in activity in 
 behalf of education, but great improve- 
 ments have taken place, and especially is 
 this true of late years, a result in no 
 small degree attributable to the generous 
 fund contributed for this purpose by Mr. 
 George Peabody, and so ably administered 
 by Dr. Sears. South Carolina was amongst 
 the earliest to organize public schools, 
 namely, in the fore part of the eighteenth 
 century, but these, like the schools of 
 almost all the country, were of a very 
 limited design. In Kentucky and Vir- 
 ginia, as also in Mississippi, advance steps 
 have been taken, within a comparatively 
 recent period, in this direction. In all 
 the western states, in addition to Ohio 
 already mentioned, liberal provision haa 
 
670 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 been made for a first class system of com- 
 mon schools, with all needed auxiliaries. 
 
 It is about equally true of the different 
 sections of the country in early times, that 
 the system of instruction was extremely 
 scant, and the school-house accommoda- 
 tions of the most impoverished character, 
 as compared with the present day. The 
 
 . 
 
 objectionable, as the standard of education 
 was correspondingly moderate. At the 
 west, in its earliest days, things could 
 scarcely have been much worse; indeed, 
 many of those born and reared in that 
 section, in its formation period, had no 
 education at all, nor did they generally 
 feel much concern on the subject, and, 
 
 NORMAL SCHOOL, NEW YORK ; FOB THE TRAI.MXG OF TEACHERS. 
 
 school-house of "y* olden time" is de- 
 scribed as, in fact, scarcely more than a 
 hut or cabin a small, low building, barn- 
 like in shape and appearance, made in 
 some cases of logs, and usually of stock 
 equally crude or rough, frequently without 
 clapboards or even shingles, and lighted 
 by perhaps two or more four-pane win- 
 dows, a narrow door of rough boards at 
 one end ; within, completely unfinished ; 
 some low benches without backs, and a 
 chair or stool for the 'master,' constituting 
 the furniture. 
 
 It was also a general fact in respect to 
 those times, that, though the teacher 
 might be decidedly a gentleman of old 
 school perfection in his manners, and very 
 popular perhaps as a m&n, his scholastic 
 attainments were quite inconsiderable, a 
 point then not likely to render him very 
 
 among those who did pretend to afford 
 their children a knowledge of letters, the 
 difficulties to contend with were numerous, 
 not the least of which was the lack of 
 competent teachers. A frequent custom 
 in vogue, in sparsely inhabited neighbor- 
 hoods, was, for some one of the farmers 
 best qualified for the task, to spend a few 
 weeks or months of the most leisure sea- 
 son of the year, in teaching the children 
 of the vicinity, whose parents might 
 choose to send them, at a small expense, 
 say ten or twelve dimes a quarter, payable 
 in work or provisions. In this way, some 
 of them succeeded in obtaining such an 
 education as was thought to answer all 
 needed purposes for the masses. Girls 
 learned to spell and read imperfectly, and 
 the art of penmanship was a rare attain- 
 ment among the native daughters of the 
 
TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 671 
 
 west, of that day, except in the larger 
 towns, and a few favored spots in the 
 older settlements. The education of a 
 boy was then considered sufficient, if he 
 could spell, read, write, and had ' ciphered 
 to the rule of three ' ; and if, by reason of 
 any superior privilege, there was added 
 to these a knowledge of grammar and 
 geography, he was considered exception- 
 ally advanced. The following were the 
 principal items in the bill of expense for 
 the entire course of studies : one Child's 
 book, one Spelling book, one Reader, one 
 New Testament, one quire of foolscap 
 paper, one Arithmetic, one slate, and the 
 tuition fees of a few quarters. The pupil 
 gathered his pencils from the brook, and 
 plucked his quills from the wing of a ra- 
 ven, or a wild goose, killed by the father's 
 rifle. 
 
 Compare all this with the architectural 
 splendor of our modern school-houses, that 
 are to be found dotting the hills and val- 
 leys of forty commonwealths, the cost of 
 these structures varying all the way from 
 five thousand to one hundred thousand 
 dollars, finished with almost palatial luxu- 
 riousness of beauty and convenience, and 
 furnished with every possible appurtenance 
 and appliance which ingenuity, so prolific 
 in this direction, has been able to devise. 
 Among the most important features in this 
 improved system of construction and ap- 
 paratus, may be mentioned the loftiness 
 and amplitude of the apartments, and that 
 full and free ventilation so necessary for 
 the health and comfort of the pupils, to- 
 gether with an abundance of light, so that 
 there is no straining of the vision. Of 
 school-house furniture and apparatus, this 
 country is distinguished for a variety and 
 perfection unexcelled, even if equalled, by 
 any other nation, including, of course, 
 desks, seats, and benches, promotive of 
 comfort, convenience, and neatness ; col- 
 ored counters, strung on horizontal wires, 
 in upright frames ; black-boards, of wood 
 or mineral, some having movable slides, on 
 which letters and figures are arranged in 
 different orders ; blocks, demonstrating the 
 various geometrical figures; maps in al- 
 
 most endless style and variety ; atlases, 
 globes, gymnastic contrivances; models, 
 for representative teaching; geological, 
 mineralogical, and botanical collections; 
 instruments for instruction in music ; 
 these, with hundreds of different text- 
 books in every department or specialty, 
 from the primary to the classical, with the 
 letter-press made artistically attractive by 
 the most beautiful pictorial ornamentation, 
 fill up the foreground of this wonderful 
 contrast of the present with the past, and 
 the details of this comparison might here 
 be almost indefinitely extended, did space 
 permit. 
 
 Foreigners, even the most judicious ob- 
 servers, from European nations of the 
 highest advancement in matters of educa- 
 tion, are stated, by Prof. Hoyt, to be of 
 one opinion in regard to the intelligent 
 zeal of the American people in educational 
 affairs, and the readiness with which they 
 voluntarily tax themselves, that the bless- 
 ings of intellectual culture may be free to 
 all ; the great liberality of the government 
 of the United States in freely giving of 
 the public domain for the support of 
 schools for the young, of universities, and 
 of technical schools for instruction and 
 training in the applications of science to 
 the practical arts ; the unparalleled mu- 
 nificence of private gifts and bequests for 
 the founding of great schools, general, 
 technical, and professional ; the superior- 
 ity of our public school buildings in the 
 cities and villages, and of American school 
 furniture ; the great superiority of our 
 text-books, especially those for use in the 
 primary and grammar schools ; and, finally, 
 the extraordinary extent to which our 
 newspaper and periodical publications, 
 lecture courses, and other like instrumen- 
 talities, supplement the work of the schools 
 by a general diffusion of knowledge among 
 all classes of the people. 
 
 It is not saying too much, perhaps, that 
 the liberal grants of public lands made in 
 behalf of free education, have proved, in 
 many of the states, the chief means of 
 prosperity to the cause. The establish- 
 ment, also, of a government Bureau of 
 
672 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 Education, at Washington, is likely to ef- 
 fect the greatest results for good. Though 
 clothed with no positive authority or con- 
 trol, it aims to encourage the growth, in 
 the public mind, of the following princi- 
 ples or features of a national school sys- 
 tem, namely : 
 
 The authority and duty of the state 
 legislature to establish, aid, support, and 
 supervise schools of every grade, and all 
 institutions and agencies of education, sci- 
 ence, and the arts ; security against dimi- 
 nution or diversion of educational funds 
 and benefactions ; the certainty of a min- 
 imum rate of taxation, sufficient every 
 year to secure the elementary instruction 
 of all children within the state who shall 
 
 ponderance, sympathy with the wants of 
 different sections and occupations, and 
 independence of local or special influence; 
 a system of inspection, administered by 
 the state board, intelligent, professional, 
 frequent, and independent of local or in- 
 stitutional control, with the widest and 
 fullest publicity of results ; admission to 
 all higher institutions aided by the state, 
 only on fitness to enter and profit by the 
 eame, ascertained by open competitive 
 examination; a retiring fund, made up of 
 an annual allowance by the state, and an 
 equal payment by those who register to 
 secure its benefits, conditioned on pro- 
 longed service in the business of teaching; 
 and an obligation on parents and guar- 
 
 VIEW IN YALE COLLEGE OUOII.NDS. 
 
 apply, by teachers professionally trained, 
 and in schools legally inspected and ap- 
 proved ; the distribution of all state ap- 
 propriations derived from taxation or funds, 
 on such conditions and in such modes as 
 will secure local taxation or individual 
 eontributions for the same purpose, a lively 
 municipal or public interest in the expend- 
 iture of both sums, the constant co-opera- 
 tion of parents at home in realizing the 
 work of the school, and the regular at- 
 tendance of pupils ; a state board of edu- 
 cation, having supervision of all educa- 
 tional institutions incorporated or aided 
 by the state, and constituted in such way 
 as to secure literary, scientific, and pro- 
 fessional attainment and experience, free- 
 dom from denominational or party pre- 
 
 dians not to allow children to grow tip in 
 barbarism, ignorance and vagrancy, and 
 the exercise of the elective franchise, or 
 of any public officer, to bo conditioned on 
 the ability of the applicant to read under- 
 standingly the Constitution and laws. 
 
 Of free public education for females, it 
 may be said that the standard is now in 
 every respect as high and the opportunities 
 as complete and ample, as for the other 
 sex, and that this fact relates to all the 
 grades or graduated courses of instruction, 
 from the primary and grammar schools up 
 to the highest collegiate and university 
 institutions. Normal schools, too, for the 
 professional training of teachers, so as to 
 leave nothing wanting in respect to capac- 
 ity and adaptation for this purpose, have 
 
TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 673 
 
 Been established, under legislative auspices, 
 in u large number of the states, and the 
 principles and methods characterizing 
 these important adjuncts to the cause 
 cover the widest range. Besides these 
 training schools, which annually send forth 
 hundreds of the most accomplished gradu- 
 ates, of both sexes, colleges exclusively for 
 females are to be found in different parts 
 of the land, conducted on a scale and with 
 a degree of success equal to the most re- 
 nowned of those for males only. Collegiate 
 institutions designed for the joint educa- 
 tion of the two sexes constitute another 
 feature of the advanced American system. 
 The fact seems almost incredible, that, 
 though there were but twenty-five colleges 
 
 times and the present any considerable 
 pictorial views of the superb buildings, 
 now so numerous, which have been erected 
 to meet the wants of these institutions. 
 
 Harvard, Yale, and Columbia (or King's) 
 colleges are the most ancient and cele- 
 brated in America, and may be considered 
 the mother, of all. From the smallest 
 beginnings, their prosperity and enlarge- 
 ment have continued until the present 
 day. Harvard was founded in 1636, the 
 intention of its originators and benefac- 
 tors being the preparation of young men 
 for the ministry and as teachers. Its de- 
 partments academic, theology, law, medi- 
 cine, science, etc., are so complete as to 
 fairly represent the highest order of clas- 
 
 \KVARD rOLLEOE GROUNDS. 
 
 in the United States in the year 1800, the 
 number had increased nearly fifteen times 
 during the three-fourths of a century suc- 
 ceeding, these being manned by a profes- 
 sorial corps of nearly four thousand, and 
 the number of students falling but little 
 short of fifty-seven thousand, a remarka- 
 ble fact, indeed, and of appropriate men- 
 tion in connection with the statement that, 
 at the same period, the number of pupils 
 enrolled in the free public schools was 
 some eight millions. 
 
 The number of colleges and universities 
 being thus among the hundreds, renders 
 quite impossible any attempt to present 
 except in a few instances, for the purpose 
 of showing the contrast between former 
 
 sical learning on this continent. Yale 
 college was founded in 1700, and its ad- 
 vantages and reputation have always been 
 unexcelled. The same may be said of Co- 
 lumbia, Brown, Princeton, Hamilton, La- 
 fayette, &c , &c. Columbia college was 
 founded in 1754 ; the university of North 
 Carolina dates back to 1789 ; that of South 
 Carolina to 1801 ; the Ohio university to 
 1804; and the university of Virginia, in 
 the establishment of which Thomas Jeffer- 
 son was so prominent and influential, was 
 organized in 1819. 
 
 The efforts put forth at the west, in this 
 direction, during the last half century in 
 especial, have been simply amazing only 
 commensurate, however, with the magnifi- 
 
674 
 
 TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 cent scale upon which all enterprises in 
 that vast, active, and prosperous region are 
 planned, and which thus so truly reflect 
 the intelligence, wisdom, moral and politi- 
 cal genius, and wealth, of that great peo- 
 ple. Nor has the activity in this splendid 
 field of educational achievement been con- 
 fined to any particular race, party, or de- 
 nomination, the various Christian bodies 
 of almost every name, in fact, being repre- 
 sented Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, 
 Congregationalist, Roman Catholic, Chris- 
 tian, Universalist, Unitarian, Episcopalian, 
 Lutheran, &c., &c. 
 
 The larger number of these institutions 
 are not only of comparatively recent origin, 
 but have reached a surprising degree or 
 condition of prosperity, and in not a few 
 instances is this due to the princely endow- 
 ments made by individuals. Kentucky 
 University will forever be associated with 
 the name of Bowman, Cornell with its 
 munificent founder, and so of many others, 
 not alone at the west, but in other sections 
 of the country as well. In Indiana, Mich- 
 igan, Missouri, Illinois, Wisconsin, Missis- 
 sippi, Iowa, Ohio, Minnesota, Kansas, 
 California, in fact, throughout the whole 
 vast area of country which scarcely had 
 name or knowledge when the war for inde- 
 
 pendence was being waged by the thirteen 
 colonies, are found seats of learning from 
 which the four great professions are annu- 
 ally recruited, to say nothing of the inde- 
 pendent fields of literature, science and 
 art, in some leading specialty of which, 
 independent of the standard professions, 
 so many find their life's occupation and 
 achievements. 
 
 In the opinion of some of the wisest 
 educators of the present day, an opinion 
 also expressed by Prof. Hoyt, in one of 
 his invaluable papers on the conduct of 
 universities, the question is one of great 
 importance, whether the cause of the 
 higher culture and the interests of educa- 
 tion generally would not be better pro- 
 moted by raising the standards of admis- 
 sion and graduation quite above the usual 
 low level ; thus putting all truly prepara- 
 tory work upon the high schools, acade- 
 mies, and colleges, where it properly 
 belongs, and employing the whole instruc- 
 tional force of the university in meeting 
 the demand for instruction in the higher 
 departments of learning. There would 
 seem to be no doubt, that, in a very large 
 sense, this question lies at the foundation 
 of the future of American university edu- 
 cation its character its results. 
 
LXXXI. 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL IN THE 
 UNITED STATES. 1875. 
 
 The Venerable Archbishop McClosky, of New York, Selected by the Roman Pontiff, for this Great 
 Office. He becomes a Prince in the Church. The Highest Ecclesiastical Appointment in the Catholic 
 Hierarchy. Reasons given for this Step. Solemn Investiture, in the Cathedral, by Clerical Dignitaries 
 from All Parts of the Country. An Unparalleled Scene. Illustrious Nature of this Office. Special 
 Envoy sent from Rome. Announcing the Event to the Archbishop. Time of Public Recognition 
 Assigned. A Mighty Stream of Humanity. Decorations of the Church. Procession of Priests. 
 Incensing the Altars. Sacred Vessels and Vestments. Insignia Peculiar to this Rank. The Scarlet 
 Cap. Profoundly Impressive Service. Unprecedented on this Continent. Imposing the Berretta. 
 Intoning and Chanting. Official Letter from the Pope. Use of the Latin Language. Inspiring Strains 
 of Music. Incidents Attending the Ceremonial. Pontifical Benediction by the Cardinal. Retirement 
 of the Celebrants. Dispersion of the Vast Throng. 
 
 " It wai the intent nd purpose of the holy father to give honor to our whole country; to give honor and ihow hi detp reipect >nd eiteem 
 for onr great and elorious republic, of which the Catholic population form BO eMential a part, and who are BO loyally devoted to her inetitu- 
 tioni." CABDIXAL McCLOSKeY's ADDBESS. 
 
 1 
 
 THE GltEAT ' ATHKpRAf. 
 
 T may not be inappropriate, perhaps, to state, first, that a 
 cardinal is an ecclesiastical prince in the Roman Catholic 
 church, an official of the most illustrious character, there- 
 fore, in that hierarchy, second, in fact, only to the pope 
 himself, in point of rank, and, among his very highest pre- 
 rogatives, is that of having a voice and vote in the conclave 
 of cardinals at the election of a pope, who is taken from 
 their number. The limit is seventy, and these also consti- 
 tute the sacred college, and compose the pope's 
 council. The distinguishing dress of a cardi- 
 nal is a red sontaine or cassock, a rochet, a 
 bhort purple mantle, and a red hat. 
 
 As usual, in such a case, a special envoy was 
 sent from Eome, to bear to the eminent ap- 
 pointee the papal briefs. Count Marefoschi, 
 of the pope's household, was deputed for this 
 purpose, and by him the official announcement 
 was duly made to the venerable prelate, and 
 various insignia of his new rank presented to 
 him. One special article of dress, however, 
 pertaining to the cardinalate, namely, the 
 cappello has to be received directly from the 
 
 
676 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIEST CARDINAL. 
 
 hands of the pope himself ; the article thus 
 named is the flat-topped, wide-brimmed hat, 
 from which depend two large tassels, and 
 which is worn on the most exalted occa- 
 sions. 
 
 In handing to the cardinal the papal 
 letter and the special insignia a scarlet 
 skull cap, the envoy stated that the ob- 
 jects had in view by the holy father in this 
 step, were, first, to recognize and reward 
 
 in from all quarters to witness the solemn 
 and impressive pageant the first of its 
 kind since the settlement of our country. 
 At the gate of entrance, the scene was 
 one long to be remembered by the vast 
 multitude old men and women, young 
 men and maidens who there sought, with 
 almost mortal struggle, admission to the 
 portals of the sacred edifice. 
 
 lu the decorations of the cathedral, the 
 
 ARCHBISHOP MCCLOSKEY, THE FIRST AMEKICAK CARDINAL. 
 
 the personal merits and distinguished ser- 
 vices to the Church of the archbishop 
 himself; second, to testify his regard for 
 and pay a just tribute to the piety and 
 zeal of the Catholics of America ; and 
 third, to acknowledge, in an especial man- 
 ner, his appreciation of all that the Cath- 
 olics of the diocese of New York had 
 accomplished for religion. 
 
 The 27th of April was the time assigned 
 for the public ceremonial of consecration, 
 and a mighty stream of humanity poured 
 
 choicest taste was exercised. The sanctu- 
 ary was festooned with scarlet cloth orna- 
 mented with gold lace and fringe, while 
 over the cross, at the top of the altar, was 
 arranged, in gas jets, 'Te Deum Lauda- 
 mus,' and the floral decorations on the 
 altar itself were profuse and elegant in 
 the extreme. On either side of the tab- 
 ernacle were floral columns of choice ex- 
 otics, fully three feet in length and a foot 
 in diameter, composed of roses, camellias 
 and calla lilies, surmounted by a red cross 
 
CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL. 
 
 677 
 
 of carnation pinks, while other floral de- 
 signs of every description were strewn 
 about in graceful profusion. The gallery, 
 wliirh had been set apart for the sole use 
 of the choir, was hung with crimson cloth 
 fringed with gilt, and caught up with 
 heavy gold tassels ; in the centre was 
 looped the papal banner, while on either 
 side hung the stars and stripes. 
 
 At the appointed hour, the pope's legate, 
 supported by his secretary and the master 
 of ceremonies, came from the sacristy, 
 bearing the berretta and the papal briefs, 
 and deposited the treasures at the left of 
 the cardinal's throne, the berretta, in this 
 case, being of the color peculiar to the 
 cardinalship. In a few moments came the 
 procession of priests, in their priestly cas- 
 socks and short surplices, and, shortly 
 after, the dignitaries came forth from the 
 same sacristy door ; first came a company 
 of acolytes ; then the archbishops and 
 bishops, mitred and arrayed in all the 
 insignia of their order; then the pope's 
 legate ; and next His Eminence the car- 
 dinal, his train borne by two boys. Be- 
 hind the cardinal came Count Marefoschi, 
 in the uniform of the papal guard ; then 
 another procession of priests, closed by 
 the Dominican monks in white, and the 
 Franciscans in brown robes. The bodies 
 composing the procession being duly ar- 
 ranged, the church was now filled with 
 joyous music from the choir. 
 
 Cardinal McCloskey was, of course, the 
 noteworthy figure in this dazzling assem- 
 bly. He wore a light purple or mauve cas- 
 sock, a white surplice, and a velvet manta- 
 letta qf deep purple ; about his neck was a 
 gold chain, from which was suspended a 
 ponderous cross, blazing with magnificent 
 gems ; on his head was a black berretta 
 a small cap with three crests which run 
 from the central point on top to the other 
 edge, which, upon removal, showed be- 
 neath it the small scarlet skull cap, the 
 well known sacerdotal insignia. His tall 
 spare person, towering over the larger 
 number near him, and his finely intellect- 
 ual and energetic face, gave decided char- 
 acter to the scene. All the bishops, with 
 
 their gorgeous mitres and copes of gold 
 and silver and sheeny satin, embroidered 
 in various colors ; the cardinal tranquilly 
 seated on his throne; the gigantic guard, 
 in the person of Count Marefoschi, mag- 
 nificently attired, at his left; Archbishop 
 Bayley, on the throne beyond the blazing 
 altar, whose wealth of flowers and their 
 tender hues became well nigh lost in the 
 dazzle and blaze of the firmament of can- 
 dles ; the sober yet superb decorations of 
 the whole altar and sanctuary, and the 
 storm of music that swept over all ; it 
 was a spectacle never to be forgotten. 
 
 Cardinal McCloskey, wearing his rochet, 
 purpie cassock, etc , knelt at the epistle 
 altar; the archbishop of Baltimore sat on 
 the same side; the officiating prelate and 
 clergymen stood at the altar steps ; and 
 mass was commenced. At the confiteor, 
 the cardinal stood up. and proceeded to 
 his throne at the gospel side, he alone of 
 all the prelates present having a pastoral 
 staff, which was carried by an officiating 
 bishop. After incensing the altar three 
 times, he sat down with the deacon and sub- 
 deacon. Bishop Loughiiu read 'Introit,' 
 recited 'Kyrie,' and intoned 'Gloria in 
 Excelsis,' which was afterwards sung by the 
 choir. Collects were read by the celebrant, 
 the 'Epistle' by the sub-deacon, and, while 
 Bishop Loughlin read the 'Gospel,' the 
 congregation rose to their feet ; he then 
 chanted 'Credo in Unum Deurn,' and in a 
 low voice recited the remainder of the 
 Nicene Creed. 
 
 At this point, after the choir had fin- 
 ished, Bishop Loughlin repaired to the 
 altar, where, after the customary 'Domi- 
 nus vobiscum ' and 'Oremus,' he proceeded 
 to read prayers at the offertory. The dea- 
 con and sub-deacon then prepared sacred 
 vessels and bread and wine. Mercan- 
 dante's 'Quam dilecta' was sung during 
 this period. Acolytes then advanced wilh 
 censers and the altar was incensed by the 
 celebrant, the archbishop and bishop ris- 
 ing and removing their mitres, the priests 
 and entire congregation also rising. At 
 this time, the church was a level sea of 
 heads, and, when the bells tinkled to an- 
 
878 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL. 
 
 nonnce the opening of canon or solemn 
 part of the ceremony, the people were un- 
 able to kneel, so tightly were they packed 
 together. Toward the end of the mass, 
 was observed the interesting ceremony of 
 giving the 'pax,' or kiss of peace, not 
 
 left hand side of the altar, and the arch- 
 bishop of Baltimore stepped down from 
 his throne and knelt at the epistle side. 
 Ablegate Roncetti stood beside Archbishop 
 Bayley, and in a loud clear voice read the 
 message, in Latin, from the Pope to his 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST AMERICAN CARDINAL. 
 
 exactly a kiss, but an inclination of heads 
 together, while the hands rest on others' 
 arms. 'Pax' was given from one to the 
 other until it passed along to right and 
 left, all through the crowded sanctuary. 
 
 When mass was finished, the most nota- 
 ble scene of the great occasion commenced. 
 Cardinal McCloskey rose and knelt at the 
 
 venerabilis f rater, giving the reasons which 
 induced him to confer the cardinalate upon 
 Archbishop McCloskey, and at its close 
 handed him the parchment 'brief,' author- 
 izing him to confer the berretta, in the 
 name of His Holiness, on this newly ap- 
 pointed prince of the Church. The arch- 
 bishop having replied, in the Latin Ian- 
 
CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL. 
 
 679 
 
 guage, delivered the brief to a deacon of 
 the mass, and, after reading it, Count 
 Marefoschi surrendered the berretta to 
 Mgr. Roncetti, who, handing it to Arch- 
 bishop Bayley, the latter walked over to 
 Cardinal McCloskey and placed the cap 
 on his head, at the same time addressing 
 him as 'Eminentia tua.' Cardinal Mc- 
 Closkey made a suitable reply, in the 
 Latin vernacular, and, after intoning 'Te 
 Deum,' retired to the vestry, where he put 
 on the crimson robes of his office, and re- 
 turned to the altar, while the choir sang 
 ' Te Deum.' 
 
 The interest, both ecclesiastical and 
 historical, pertaining to the papal docu- 
 ments referred to, entitle them to an in- 
 sertion in this place. The first of these, 
 couched in the usual phraseology of com- 
 munications of such grave importance, is 
 addressed 
 
 ' To our Venerable Brother, JAMES ROOSE- 
 VELT BAYLEY, Archbishop of Baltimore. 
 Pius IX., Pope. Venerable Brother, 
 Health and Apostolic Benediction : 
 After the example of the Roman Pontiffs, 
 our predecessors, it has ever been our care to 
 fill the College of Cardinals, which is the Sen- 
 ate of the Church, with men whose piety, 
 virtue, and merits, should correspond to the 
 splendor of so great a dignity. It is this that 
 has moved us to proclaim Cardinal of the 
 Holy Roman Church, our Venerable Brother, 
 JOHN MCCLOSKEY, Archbishop of New York ; 
 whose piety, learning, devotion to His Holy 
 Apostolic See, and whose indefatigable zeal 
 in the cultivation of the Lord's Vineyard, 
 have been so conspicuously evident to Us that 
 we have thought him worthy of this great 
 honor. And now that we would choose a per- 
 sonage for the office of conferring upon him 
 the berretta, one of the insignia of his new 
 dignity, we have thought well to select for the 
 office you, venerable brother, who presides over 
 so illustrious a church, and one that has the 
 right of precedence over all the churches of 
 the United States of America. We know that 
 such is your devotion toward us and toward 
 this chair of the blessed Peter, that we are 
 confident you will, in the discharge of this 
 office, fulfill all our expectations. We, there- 
 fore, by these presents, charge you, venerable 
 brother, that, strictly observing whatever is 
 prescribed by the sacred rites of the Roman 
 
 Church, you confer, in our name and in his 
 own Cathedral church, upon our beloved son, 
 JOHN MCCLOSKEY, proclaimed by us a Cardi- 
 nal of the Holy Roman Church, the scarlet 
 berretta, which we have sent to him by the 
 hand of our beloved son, C^ESAK RONCETTI, 
 one of our private chamberlains ; and we, 
 therefore, through these presents, by the same 
 apostolic authority, grant you all the powers 
 necessary and proper for the purpose. And it 
 is our wish that nothing contained in any 
 other ordinance shall be construed thwarting 
 our purpose, even though such thing might 
 seem to require special and individual men- 
 tion. 
 
 Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, under the 
 seal of the Fisherman's Ring, on the 16th day 
 of March, anno Domini 1875, and of our Pon- 
 tificate the twenty-ninth. 
 
 [L. s.] F. CARDINAL ASQUINI.' 
 
 The above letter was followed by one 
 which announced to the distinguished pre- 
 late, personally, that His Holiness had been 
 pleased to make him one of the princes 
 of the Church, and was addressed 
 
 'To our Beloved Son, JOHN MCCLOSKEY by 
 the Appointment and Favor of the Apos- 
 tolic of our Archbishop of New York, and 
 now proclaimed a Cardinal of the Holy 
 Roman Church. Pius IX., Pope. Beloved 
 Son, Health and Apostolic Benediction: 
 Having been placed, through the Divine 
 will, without any merit of ours, in the supreme 
 dignity of this Apostolic See, with that solici- 
 tude which should be characteristic of our 
 pastoral office, while laboring for the welfare 
 of the Catholic Church, we have ever sought 
 to enroll among the number of our venerable 
 brethren the Cardinals of the Holy Roman 
 Church, men of such conspicuous merit as the 
 dignity of their illustrious order demands. 
 For this reason it is that we have chosen you, 
 our well-beloved son, whose eminent piety, 
 virtue and learning, and zeal for the propaga- 
 tion of the Catholic faith, have convinced us 
 that your ministry would be of great utility 
 and honor to the Church of God. Having, 
 therefore, created you a Cardinal of the Holy 
 Roman Church, we send to you, by our be- 
 loved son, C^ESAU RONCETTI, one of our secret 
 chamberlains, the scarlet berretta, which is 
 one of the insignia of that sublime dignity. 
 When, with the proper forms, it shall have 
 been conferred upon you, know that Its shin- 
 ii\g crimson should ever remind him who is 
 
680 
 
 CONSECRATION OF THE FIBST CAEDIXAL. 
 
 elevated to the Cardinalitiai dignity, that, 
 fearless and unconquered, lie must ever up- 
 hold the rights of the Church of God through 
 every danger, even to that shedding of his 
 blood which is pronounced precious in the 
 sight of the Lord. We also greatly desire that 
 you would receive, with all manner of kind- 
 ness, him who we have sent to you, both for 
 tke sake of the mission upon which he is sent 
 and for our sake. It is also our wish, that, 
 before you receive the berretta, you should 
 take and subscribe with your own hand, the oath 
 which will be presented to you by the afore- 
 mentioned, our beloved son, CAESAR RONCETTI, 
 and send it to us, cither by his hand, or any 
 other. And it is our wish that no persons, 
 constitutions or ordinances, of this Apostolic 
 See, or anything else whatsoever, shall be con- 
 strued as invalidating this our present act. 
 
 Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, under the 
 seal of the Fisherman's Ring, on the 2Gth day 
 of March, anno Domini 1875, and of our Pon- 
 tificate the twenty-ninth. 
 
 [L- s.] F. CARDINAL ASQCIXI. 
 
 The closing act in this solemn pageant, 
 after the inspiring strains of music had 
 ceased to fill the air, was the pontifical bene- 
 diction by the Cardinal, and, after the re- 
 tirement of the celebrants in processional 
 order, the vast throng of spectators dis- 
 persed. The new Cardinal entered upon his 
 great office with the reputation, accorded to 
 him alike by Protestants and Catholics, of 
 a name without a stain, and a career honor- 
 able and dignified, through a long life. 
 
 It is certainly not saying too much, that, 
 in the annals of American Catholicism, so 
 memorable a ceremonial as that now des- 
 cribed must render historical, in the high- 
 est degree, the sacred edifice in which it 
 occurred. But only a few years elapsed, 
 after this unprecedented occasion, when the 
 venerable Cardinal had the satisfaction of 
 officiating at the dedication of the new and 
 magnificent St. Patrick's Cathedral just 
 completed on Fifth Avenue, the most 
 superb ecclesiastical structure not only in 
 New York city, but on the American conti- 
 nent. The dedication took place May 25, 
 1879, or nearly twenty-one years after the 
 laying of the corner-stone. The founda- 
 tions rest on a bed of solid rock, in which 
 excavations therefor had to be made, and 
 
 at the normal level of the surrounding 
 ground rests a chisel-dressed base course of 
 granite. From this springs a pure Gothic 
 marble superstructure, similar in archi- 
 tecture to the style obtaining in Europe 
 during the thirteenth and fourteenth cen- 
 turies, and, like the cathedrals of Amiens, 
 Eheims, and Cologne, this is free from 
 heaviness and over-ornamentation. . Most 
 of the windows on the lower tier were do- 
 nations from various churches, and some 
 are of American make ; those of the nave 
 were ordered by Cardinal McCloskey, when 
 visiting Eome. These windows are de- 
 clared by good judges to be masterpieces 
 of art. The interior of the edifice is di- 
 vided into three parts transept, nave, and 
 choir, of dimensions as follows : Length 
 of transept, 140 feet ; height of nave, 108 
 feet; internal length of the building. 306 
 feet, and breadth 96 feet. A series of 
 chapels, each twelve feet deep, occupy 
 either side of the edifice ; the nave is di- 
 vided from the aisles by two rows of clus- 
 tered columns, sixteen columns in a row ; 
 the choir has five bays, and arranged with 
 double aisles on either side of the central 
 aisle. The area of the interior of the ca- 
 thedral is 38,500 square feet; there is 
 standing room for 19,000 people, and 
 14,000 can be accommodated with seats. 
 The cost of the cathedral, when completed, 
 will approximate $5,000,000. The first 
 event in connection with the dedication of 
 the edifice was the solemn consecration, 
 two days previously, of the High Altar, 
 the chief consecrator being the Right Eev. 
 Bishop Conroy, of Albany, N. Y. This 
 grand altar, exquisite in material, design, 
 and artistic beauty, stands forty-eight feet 
 in height to the apex of the cross sur- 
 mounting the tabernacle. The number of 
 eminent prelates present was quite large 
 comprising not less than six archbishops, 
 in cope and mitre, followed by the bishops, 
 similarly attired, and making in all a gath- 
 ering of forty-three members of the Epis- 
 copacy. The scene of the dedication, un- 
 der the lead, primarily, of the eminent and 
 venerable Cardinal, was impressive to a 
 degree rarely witnessed on American soil. 
 
LXXXII. 
 
 " MIRACLES OF SCIENCE," OR FOUR NEW WONDERS OF 
 
 THE WORLD. 1876. 
 
 The Electric Light, or Brilliant and Abundant Illumination by Means of Electricity. The Telephone, 
 or Instantaneous Articulate Communication between Distant Points. The Phonograph, or talking Ma- 
 chine, Reproducing and Preserving Human Utterances, whether of Speech or Song, in all their charac- 
 teristics. The Microphone, or Prodigious Magnifier of Sound, however Slight or Remote. Splendor 
 of the Electric Rays. Former Inventions in this Line. Prof. Farmer's Early Success. Edison's Im- 
 proved Device. Its Special Characteristics. Sanguine Expectations Entertained. Interest Excited by 
 the Telephone. Enconiums from English Sources. Principles of Construction and Use. Simplicity 
 and Serviceableness Tens of Thousands in Operation. How the Phonograph was Developed. Other 
 Inventions Fairly Eclipsed. Its Appearance, Form, Outcome. Words and Tones Recorded. Aston- 
 ishment and Delight. Its Five Chief Features. Marvels of the Microphone. A Touch or Tick Audible 
 for Miles. Arrangement of the Apparatus. Curious Feats Accomplished. Explanation of this 
 property. 
 
 " The realm of scientific invetiguon U actively occupied at present by our American contini, mnd with result, limply utoundlm." 
 
 LONDOS TIMES. 
 
 HE ' miracles of science," or the " four new wonders of the world," is the 
 familiar phraseology with which those remarkable achievements in the world 
 of discovery and invention the Electric Light, the Telephone, 
 the Phonograph, and the Microphone, are referred to, and the 
 American citizen may well speak with pride of those accomplish- 
 ments, from the fact that they are, either exclusively or in the 
 most promising sense, the offspring of his own native land. The 
 first of these, the electric light, which has recently attracted such 
 attention as never before was bestowed upon it, has been aptly 
 bk pronounced the brightest meteor that has flashed across the hori- 
 zon of promise during the present century, and, indeed, the 
 splendor of the rays emitted, and the representations of the small 
 cost required to produce such an intense illumination, have led 
 many to believe that gas-lighting was drawing to a close, and 
 that night would be turned into day by this wonderful agent. 
 
 The evident priority of American genius in this line, it is safe 
 to assert ; though not alone in this country, but in Europe as 
 well, electricity has been successfully employed in lighting assem- 
 bly halls, factories, depots, streets, parks, lighthouses, etc., and 
 its adaptation for marine purposes, as exhibited in the accompany- 
 ing illustration, is looked upon as likely to mitigate the perils of 
 night and of fogs, and increase the facilities of ocean enterprise. 
 
 ELECTRIC LAMF. 
 
682 
 
 MIRACLES OF SCIENCE. 
 
 The inventions claiming to realize the 
 best results in this direction are very 
 numerous, and constantly accumulating. 
 Acknowledging, as do all men of science, 
 the practicability of the thing when ap- 
 plied on a large scale, and especially out 
 of doors, the desideratum of chief impor- 
 tance has seemed to be its application to 
 in-door service. That this was accom- 
 plished by Prof. Farmer, at his home in 
 Salem, Mass., in 1859, is abundantly dem- 
 onstrated. To realize this object conven- 
 iently, agreeably, abundantly and inex- 
 pensively, many contrivances have been 
 brought forward, foremost among which 
 may be said to be those due to the won- 
 der-working brain of Mr. Edison. 
 
 This invention, as summarily described 
 by Mr. Edison himself, consists, first, in 
 the combination with an electric light of 
 a thermal circuit regulator to lessen the 
 electric action in the light when the max- 
 imum intensity has been attained ; the 
 combination with the electric light of a 
 circuit closing lever, operated by heat 
 from the electric current or from the 
 light, and a shunt or short circuit to di- 
 vert the current or a portion thereof from 
 the light; the combination with the elec- 
 tric light and a resistance of a circuit 
 closer operated by heat, and serving to 
 place more or less resistance in the circuit 
 of the light ; the combination with an 
 electric light of a diaphragm operated by 
 the expansion of a gas or fluid in propor- 
 tion to the temperature of the light, to 
 regulate the electric current; the combi- 
 nation with a vibrating body, similar to a 
 tuning fork, of mechanism for maintain- 
 ing the vibration, and magnets, cores, and 
 helices, by means of which a secondary 
 current is set up, so as to convert me- 
 chanical motion into electric force, or the 
 reverse ; and, finally, the combination 
 with the electric lights of means for regu- 
 lating the electric current to the same, in 
 proportion to the heat evolved in the light, 
 so as to prevent injury to the apparatus. 
 His improved alloy of the refractory met- 
 als, and the thermo-static regulator, are 
 the means, in this case, of securing a light 
 
 which is alleged to be the most steady, 
 clear, inexpensive, and reliable, of any 
 electric light yet proposed. In other 
 words, the plan consists in placing an 
 electric light in branch circuits passing 
 across from the positive to the negative 
 conductor, and the lights are controlled 
 by switches which connect the branches 
 with or disconnect them from the main 
 conductors. The lamp consists of a suita- 
 ble standard, surmounting which is a trans- 
 parent glass case, resembling an ordinary 
 lamp chimney, except that it is closed at 
 the top ; within this is suspended a spiral 
 of metal wire, hardly larger than a knit- 
 ting needle in diameter, and about three- 
 quarters of an inch in length. When the 
 electricity is turned on, this spiral glows 
 with a white light, of great brillianc}' and 
 steadiness. Should the sanguine expec- 
 tations of the inventor of this device be 
 realized, a revolution in artificial illumi- 
 nation, especially in-doors, will indeed 
 take place, involving, practically, the dis- 
 use of every other method and material. 
 
 Already, in this country and in Europe, 
 the various arrangements for electric illu- 
 mination which have seemed the most prac- 
 ticable have been put into operation, with 
 various degrees of success, and, in the case 
 of large inclosures or areas, there appears 
 to be no doubt as to its superiority. For 
 light-houses, it has some valuable points 
 of adaptation, and for various purposes at 
 sea its employment must be found ex- 
 tremely serviceable. The results of its 
 introduction in the light-house at South 
 Foreland prove its usefulness in this rela- 
 tion. The electric current for this light 
 is generated by means of large magneto- 
 electric machines, which are driven by 
 belting connected with a steam-engine, 
 each machine being composed of ninety- 
 six helices, mounted upon six gun-metal 
 wheels, each carrying sixteen helices ; be- 
 tween these wheels are placed the mag- 
 nets, eight in each division, forty of which 
 are composed of six layers or leaves riv- 
 eted together, while the sixteen end ones 
 have but three leaves each. The magnets, 
 which are mounted in frames, are station- 
 
MIRACLES OF SCIENCE. 
 
 683 
 
 ary, while the helices revolve at the rate 
 of four hundred revolutions per minute. 
 The power absorbed by the electric ma- 
 chine alone, including friction, is four 
 indicated horse-power. The power of a 
 magneto-electric machine is according to 
 the gross attractive power of its magnets, 
 each magnet having a certain lifting or 
 attractive power expressed in pounds. In 
 the machines at South Foreland, each of 
 the six-piate magnets lift one hundred 
 and eight pounds, and each of the three- 
 plate magnets fifty-four pounds, making 
 the attractive power of the magnets, in 
 one machine, 5,184 pounds. Each of the 
 six-plate magnets weighs forty-three and 
 
 by this apparatus, taken 'with a dynamo- 
 meter, shows ISjj^j horse-power, the num- 
 ber of lights being sixteen to seventeen 
 to a machine, each light being of two 
 thousand candle power. 
 
 The details of the scientific principles 
 and of the mechanical intricacies involved 
 in these various remarkable inventions 
 would cover many pages. It may be stated, 
 therefore, generally, that the carbon points 
 
 one-half pounds. The machines are 
 connected by underground cables with 
 the electric lamps placed in the lenses 
 of the tower. 
 
 The success which has attended the 
 use of such machines or devices as the 
 Lontin, Gramme-Jablochkoff, Eapieff, 
 Werdermann, DeMeritens, Siemens. 
 Wallace Farmer, Sawyer-Mann, Brush, 
 Fuller, and some others, shows that, 
 whatever may come of the efforts to 
 secure the convenient and economical 
 use of electric illumination in dwellings, 
 there can scarcely be a doubt, as has al- 
 ready been remarked, of the substitution 
 of this system for all others, at no distant 
 day, outdoors and in halls and other pub- 
 lic buildings of considerable size. Quite 
 a large number of one of the devices just 
 mentioned have for some time past been 
 in operation in some of the largest busi- 
 ness and industrial establishments in the 
 United States ; the tests of power absorbed 
 
 ELECTK1C LIGHT AT SEA. 
 
 of a powerful machine for electric illumi- 
 nation are equal to the sun in lustre it is 
 thought possible, indeed, that even this 
 limit may he overpassed, as the sun doeo 
 not occupy the first position in the uni- 
 verse. In quantity and quality, too, the 
 electric light greatly exceeds all flames ; 
 it is, in fact, precisely this immense pro- 
 fusion of illuminating power that has 
 proved objectionable. Nothing is easier, 
 however, than to reduce the lustre of the 
 
684 
 
 MIRACLES OF SCIENCE. 
 
 light to any degree that may be desired 
 that is, by covering the arc with a large 
 opalescent globe, which, while hiding the 
 light, receives all the rays, and disperses 
 them in the same way as if the globe itself 
 were luminous. To be suitable for pur- 
 poses of illumination, a light should con- 
 tain, according to chemical authority, the 
 seven primitive colors of the spectrum in 
 certain proportions ; the flames of oil and 
 gas do not contain the true proportions of 
 these, which is the cause of their inferi- 
 ority. The electric light is while abso- 
 lutely the same as that of the sun and 
 contains all the simple rays in the same 
 proportions. The subdivision of the light, 
 
 as it is termed, to accomplish which in- 
 ventors have put forth the most ingenious 
 endeavors, is one of the claimed peculiar- 
 ities of Edison's device, a single machine 
 being thus utilized for the production of 
 several smaller illuminators, instead of for 
 one large volume of light. 
 
 We come now to the TELEPHONE, the 
 patent for which wonderful device was 
 taken out at Washington, in March, 1876, 
 by Prof. A. G. Bell, affording fresh evi- 
 dence of the versatility of American in- 
 ventive genius. Though habitually sensi- 
 tive to the honor and claims, in this direc- 
 tion, of its own countrymen, the London 
 Westminster Review frankly admits that, 
 of all modern inventions connected with 
 the transmission of telegraphic signals, 
 the telephone has deservedly excited the 
 most widespread interest and astonish- 
 
 ment, an instrument which undertakes 
 not only to convey intelligible signals to 
 great distances without the use of a bat- 
 tery, but to transmit in fac-simile the 
 tones of the human voice, so that the lat- 
 ter shall as certainly be recognized when 
 heard over a distance of hundreds of 
 miles, as if the owner were speaking to a 
 friend at his side in the same room. The 
 telephone as the tens of thousands now 
 in use show does all this. 
 
 This marvelous little apparatus pro- 
 duces, as already remarked, cheap and in- 
 stantaneous articulate communication, that 
 is, by direct sound, neither battery, nor 
 moving machinery, nor skill being re- 
 quired, but merely the voice of ordinary 
 conversation, and attentive listening. It 
 conveys the quality of the voice, so that 
 the tone of the person speaking can be 
 recognized at the other end of the line ; 
 it enables the manufacturer to talk with 
 his factory superintendent, and the physi- 
 cian with his patients ; establishes instan- 
 taneous intercourse between the main and 
 the branch office, the home and the store, 
 the country residence and the stable or any 
 part of the grounds, the mouth of the mine 
 and its remotest workings, in fact, be- 
 tween any two points miles apart. 
 
 In its mechanism, the telephone consists 
 of a steel cylindrical magnet, about five 
 inches long and three eighths of an inch in 
 diameter, encircled at one extremity by a 
 short bobbin of wood or ebonite, on which 
 is wound a quantity of very fine insulated 
 copper wire. The magnet and coil are 
 contained in a wooden cylindrical case. 
 The two ends of the coil are soldered to 
 thicker pieces of copper wire, which trav- 
 erse the wooden envelope from one end to 
 the other, and terminate in the binding 
 screws at its extremity. Immediately in 
 front of the magnet is a thin circular iron 
 plate ; which is kept in its place by being 
 jammed between the main portion of the 
 wooden case, and a wooden cap carrying 
 the mouth or ear trumpet. These two 
 parts are screwed together. The latter is 
 cut away at the centre so as to expose a 
 portion of the iron plate, about half an 
 
MIRACLES OF SCIENCE 
 
 685 
 
 inch in diameter. In the experiments 
 made to determine the influence of the 
 various parts of the telephone on the re- 
 sults produced, and their relations to each 
 other in ob:uining the hest effects, iron 
 plates were employed of various areas and 
 thicknesses, from boiler plate of three- 
 eighths' inch to the thinnest plate procur- 
 able. Wonderful to relate, it appeared 
 that scarcely any plate was too thin or too 
 thick for the purpose, though that of the 
 ferrotype plate used by photographers 
 seemed preferable, thin tin plate also an- 
 swering very well. To accomplish the 
 purpose sought, the iron plate was cut 
 into the form of a disk, about two inches 
 in diameter, and placed as near as possible 
 to the extremity of the steel magnet with- 
 out actually touching it, the effect of 
 this position being that, while the induced 
 magnetism of the plate amounted to con- 
 siderable, it was susceptible to very rapid 
 changes owing to the freedom with which 
 the plate could vibrate. Good results are 
 obtainable by means of a magnet only an 
 inch and a half long, and a working instru- 
 ment need not be too large for the waist- 
 coat pocket. There is no difference be- 
 tween the transmitting and the receiving 
 telephone, each instrument serving both 
 purposes. As already remarked, no skill 
 or training is required for the effective 
 use of the instrument, the operator has 
 merely to press the apparatus to his ear to 
 hear distinctly every sound transmitted 
 from the distant end. For this, it is true, 
 an effort of attention is required, and some 
 persons use the instrument at the first 
 trial with more success than others. In- 
 dividuals differ in the facility with which 
 they are able to concentrate their attention 
 on one ear, so as to be practically insensible 
 to what goes on around them ; but this 
 habit of attention is readily acquired, and, 
 when once acquired, the telephone may be 
 used by any one who has ears to hear and 
 a tongue to speak. In sending a message, 
 the instrument is held about an inch in 
 front of the mouth, and the sender merely 
 talks into the mouthpiece in his ordinary 
 natural manner. The words are repeated 
 
 by the instrument at the other end of the 
 circuit with the same pitch, the same 
 cadences, and the same relative loudness; 
 one voice is readily distinguished from 
 another, the character of the speaker's 
 voice being faithfully preserved and repro- 
 duced. Other instruments of this nature, 
 or improvements upon it, brought forward 
 by Gray, Dolbear, Edison, Phelps, and 
 others, cover substantially the same gen- 
 eral principles of construction and method 
 Following closely in point of time, and, 
 if possible, really eclipsing in wonderful- 
 ness the invention just named, is Edison's 
 PHONOGRAPH, discovered purely by acci- 
 
 PHOXOGRAPH. 
 
 dent, a simple apparatus, consisting, in 
 its original mechanism, of a simple cylin- 
 der of hollow brass mounted upon a shaft, 
 at one end of which is a crank for turning 
 it, and at the other a balance-wheel, the 
 whole being supported by two iron up- 
 rights. 
 
 In front of the cylinder is a movable bar 
 or arm, which supports a mouthpiece of 
 gutta-percha, on the side of which is a 
 disk of thin metal, such as is used for tak- 
 ing 'tin-type' pictures. Against the cen- 
 tre of the lower side of this disk, a fine 
 steel point is held by a spring attached to 
 the rim of the mouthpiece ; an india-rubber 
 cushion between the point and the disk 
 controls the vibration of the spring. The 
 cylinder is covered with a fine spiral groove 
 running continuously from end to end. 
 
 In using the Phonograph, the first opera- 
 tion is to wrap a sheet of tin-foil close 
 around the cylinder; the mouthpiece is 
 then adjusted against the left-hand end of 
 the cylinder so closely that the vibration 
 of the voice on the disk will cause the 
 point to press the tin-foil into the groove, 
 making minute indentations resembling, 
 on a very small scale, the characters of 
 the Morse telegraph. The cylinder is 
 moved from right to left by the screw 
 
686 
 
 MIRACLES OF SCIENCE. 
 
 crank, so nicely adjusted that the steel 
 point is always against the centre of the 
 spiral groove. While turning the crank, 
 the operator talks into the mouthpiece in 
 a voice slightly elevated above the ordi- 
 nary tone of conversation. Every vibra- 
 tion of his voice is faithfully recorded on 
 the tin-foil by the steel point, the cylinder 
 making about one revolution to a word. 
 In order to reproduce the words that is, 
 to make the machine talk, the cylinder 
 is turned back, so that the steel point may 
 go over the indentations made by speak- 
 ing into the mouthpiece. A funnel, like a 
 speaking trumpet, is attached to the mouth- 
 piece, to keep the sounds from scatter- 
 ing. Now, turning the crank again, every 
 word spoken into the mouthpiece is ex- 
 actly reproduced, with the utmost distinct- 
 ness, to the astonishment and delight of the 
 hearer. Thus the disk is either a tympa- 
 num or a diaphragm, as the case may be, 
 the first when it listens, the second when 
 it talks. Of course, the original device 
 would, true to the characteristic of Ameri- 
 can inventive genius, be carried forward 
 from step to step, in its mechanism and 
 capabilities. It soon became a beautiful 
 construction, nothing being lost sight of 
 in the way of devices for quick adjustment 
 and in respect to other details. Among 
 the improvements which soon followed was 
 that of a mica diaphragm in place of the 
 original disk of metal, this having been 
 found to obviate the objectionable metallic 
 tone of the sound noticeable in the original 
 machine. 
 
 Among the facts or results which the 
 inventor claims to be realized by this won- 
 derful apparatus, are the captivity of all 
 manner of sound-waves heretofore designa- 
 ted as 'fugitive,' and their permanent re- 
 tention; their reproduction with all their 
 original characteristics at will, without the 
 presence or consent of the original source, 
 and after the lapse of any period of time ; 
 the transmission of such captive sounds 
 through the ordinary channels of commer- 
 cial intercourse and trade in material form, 
 for purposes of communication or as mer- 
 chantable goods ; the indefinite multiplica- 
 
 tion and preservation of such sounds, with- 
 out regard to the existence or non-existence 
 of the original source; the captivation of 
 sounds, with or without the knowledge 
 or consent of the source of their origin. 
 These five features may well be said to 
 constitute a mechanical marvel hitherto 
 undreamed of. Indeed, the instrument 
 was in no sense the child of design or 
 even forethought. In experimenting with 
 the telephone, Edison happened to notice 
 the manner in which the disks of that con- 
 trivance vibrated in accordance with the 
 breath used in speaking. Believing these 
 vibrations could be recorded so as to be 
 reproduced, he set to work to manufacture 
 a machine for the purpose, the result being 
 the phonograph, an apparatus that will 
 faithfully record and repeat every syllable 
 uttered, with all the peculiarities of vocal- 
 ization or articulation, that will sing, 
 whistle, sneeze, cough, sigh, echo, &c., &c. 
 With the improvements upon the Phono- 
 graph already in progress, among which 
 is that of impelling the apparatus by clock- 
 work or machinery suited to the special 
 purpose to which it is to be put, some of 
 the expected applications, as enumerated 
 by the inventor, are those of letter-writing 
 and other forms of dictation, books, educa- 
 tion, public or private readings, music, 
 family record, also such electrotype ap- 
 plications as books, musical boxes, toys, 
 clocks, advertising and signaling appara- 
 tus, speeches, etc. Of the first of these 
 uses, (and which may be said to illustrate 
 representatively the ingenuity involved in 
 the adaptation of the contrivance to other 
 specialties), the general principles of con- 
 struction adopted by Mr. Edison consist in 
 having a flat plate or disk, with spiral 
 groove on the face, operated by clock-work 
 underneath the plate, the grooves being 
 cut very closely together so as to give a 
 great total length to each surface close 
 calculation showing the capacity of each 
 sheet of foil upon which the record is had 
 to be in the neighborhood of forty thou- 
 sand words. Allowing the sheets to be 
 ten inches square, the cost would be so 
 trifling that but one hundred words might 
 
MIRACLES OF SCIENCE. 
 
 687 
 
 be put upon a single sheet economically, 
 the chief point to be effectuated by experi- 
 ment in this case, being, of course, that 
 each sheet have as great capacity as possi- 
 ble. This form of Phonograph for com- 
 munications Mr. Edison characterizes as 
 very simple in practice. Thus, a sheet of 
 tin-foil is placed in the phonograph, the 
 clock-work set in motion, and the matter 
 dictated into the mouthpiece, without other 
 effort than when dictating to a stenog- 
 rapher. It is then removed, placed in a 
 suitable form of envelope, and sent though 
 the ordinary channels to the correspondent 
 for whom designed, he, placing it upon 
 his phonograph, starts his clock-work and 
 listens to what his correspondent has to 
 say ; inasmuch, then, as it gives the tone 
 of voice of his correspondent, it is identi- 
 fied, and, as it may be filed away as other 
 letters, and at any subsequent time re- 
 produced, it is a perfect record. 
 
 A kindred instrument, in some respects, 
 with the preceding, and like that a gen- 
 uine marvel, is the MICROPHONE, or 
 transmitter of sound, by the use of which, 
 a mere touch, or so small a sound as the 
 tick of a watch, for instance, may be heard 
 at the distance of miles, and the walking 
 of a fly resembles the tramp of an elephant 
 or the tread of a horse on a rough road. 
 The telephone brings the sound from a 
 distance, and the microphone magnifies 
 the sound when it is thus brought near, 
 thus rendering the latter just as appli- 
 cable to the sounds transmitted from Lon- 
 don or Dublin to New York, if transmis- 
 sible so far, as to the sounds in a vibrating 
 plate which is within a few inches of the 
 listener's ear. The invention depends on 
 so breaking, by the interposition of char- 
 coal permeated by fine atoms of mercury, 
 the currents transmitted by the telephonic 
 wire, that the sound is vastly increased by 
 the interruption just as heat is known to 
 be vastly increased by a similar interrup- 
 tion of a current, even to the turning of 
 metallic wire to a red or white heat. Thus 
 the microphone will make a minute sound 
 audible, whether it be close or far off. 
 
 In Edison's pile instrument, a piece of 
 
 cork is fastened to the diaphragm, and 
 presses upon a strip of platinum which is 
 attached to a plate of copper; the latter 
 is one of the terminals of an ordinary 
 galvanic pile. The other terminal plate 
 presses against the metallic frame of the 
 instrument. When the pile is included in 
 a closed telephone circuit, it furnishes a 
 continuous current, the strength of this 
 current depending upon the internal re- 
 sistance of the pile and its polarization, 
 and these are varied by vibrating the 
 diaphragm ; the pile is composed of alter- 
 nate plates of zinc and copper, and a bibu- 
 lous medium between the pairs of plates. 
 
 A simple form of microphone, also, is 
 constructed with a wooden diaphragm one- 
 eighth of an inch thick and four inches 
 square, this being glued to a narrow frame 
 supported by suitable legs. Two pieces 
 of battery carbon are secured by means of 
 sealing wax to the diaphragm, about an 
 inch apart, and at equal distances from the 
 centre. They are both inclined downward 
 at an angle of about thirty degrees. One 
 of the pieces of carbon is longer than the 
 other, and has in its under surface three 
 conical holes, made with a penknife point, 
 which are large enough to receive the 
 upper ends of the graphite pencils, tne 
 lower ends of the pencils resting in slight 
 cavities in the lower carbon ; these pencils 
 are simply pencil leads sharpened at both 
 ends and placed loosely between the car- 
 bons, they are also inclined at different 
 angles, so that the motion of the diaphragm 
 which would jar one of them would simply 
 move the others so as to transmit the sound 
 properly. 
 
 The development or conception of the 
 microphone is stated to have been as for- 
 tuitous as the discovery of the phonograph. 
 Thus, in the Hughes device, the Professor 
 was led by his experiments to place a small 
 electric battery in circuit with the tele- 
 phone. He was surprised to find, on add- 
 ing weights to a fine wire through which 
 the current was flowing, that, just before 
 the breaking strain was reached just 
 when the fibres of the metal were torn 
 asunder a peculiar rushing sound was 
 
688 
 
 MIRACLES Otf SCIENCE. 
 
 observable in the telephone. He then 
 tried whether he could reproduce this 
 noise by loosely binding the wires again 
 together, and he found that by this means 
 he had hit upon a wonderfully sensitive 
 detector of sounds, any noise near the 
 wires being immediately taken up by the 
 telephone with startling distinctness The 
 slightest attachment of the wires procured 
 the same results, and then the joined wires 
 were modified into an apparatus which 
 merely consisted of three nails, two being 
 parallel and connected with the battery 
 wires, and the third resting upon them. 
 Although this ridiculously simple arrange- 
 ment was capable of transmitting all kinds 
 of noises to a distant place, the sounds 
 were confused. This led to experiments 
 with different conducting substances, the 
 most reliable results, however, being ob- 
 tained from the various forms of carbon. 
 An arrangement was then devised which 
 not only proved successful, but so sensi- 
 tive, in fact, as to be almost beyond con- 
 trol, namely, a tiny pencil of fine gas coke 
 dropped into indentations in two blocks 
 of the same material. This compact little 
 instrument, fastened to a cigar box, it was 
 found would transmit to a long distance 
 
 the ticking of a watch placed near it, 
 the gentle touch of a feather, or a camel's 
 hair pencil, reached the ear as the rasping 
 of a file, while the scratch of a quill pen 
 in the act of writing was augmented to a 
 loud noise. But better than this form, of 
 course, is that of a base board about three 
 inches long, having screwed upon it two 
 little angle pieces of brass plate, and a 
 metallic bar, pivoted on to these brass 
 supports, with a piece of carbon at its 
 end ; this carbon block rests upon two 
 similar pieces kept together by a cloth 
 hinge placed at the side, and the lower 
 block, to which one of the battery wires is 
 attached, is fastened to the board ; the 
 pressure upon these carbon surfaces is 
 controlled by a delicate spring of brass 
 wire, which is attached to a screw with a 
 milled head. By turning this screw, the 
 pressure is nicely adjusted, from the very 
 light contact required for delicate sounds 
 to the comparatively heavy pressure wanted 
 when the sounds are more intense. But, 
 to describe this marvelous instrument in 
 the various forms of construction already 
 given to it by inventors at home and 
 abroad, notwithstanding its recent intro- 
 duction, would require scores of pages. 
 
LXXXIII. 
 
 vJENTEXNIAL COMMEMORATION OF THE BIRTH OF THIS 
 
 REPUBLIC. 1876. 
 
 Year of Jubilee, Festival, and Pageant, throughout the Land. Prosperity, Power, and Renown of the 
 Nation. A Union of Nearly Forty Great Commonwealths and Forty Million People. Anticipations 
 of the Coming Anniversary. Legislation by Congress for its Patriotic Observance A Grand Exposi- 
 tion of the Century's Growth and Progress, the Principal Feature Decided Upon. Vast Work of 
 Preparation. The Whole World at Peace, and All Countries and Climes in Sympathy with the 
 Republic and its Auspicious Era. Ushering in the Tear's Ceremonials Every City, Town, and 
 Village, Covered with Gay Streamers and Waving Flags. Pomp, Parade, and Universal Fraterniza- 
 tion. Wondrous Microcosm of Civilization Concentrated at Philadelphia. The Culminating Art 
 and Skill of Sixty Centuries of Human Advancement, and the Products of Every Quarter of the 
 Globe, Displayed in their Richest Illustrations. An Unprecedented Scene: President and Emperor 
 Receiving the Salutations of the American People. Oratory, Music, Poetry, Bells, Illuminations, 
 Cannon, Regattas, Banners, Hallelujahs and Huzzas. The Beauty, Utility, and Magnificence of the 
 Orient and Occident, in Boundless Combinations. The " Glorious Fourth," All Over the Land. 
 Congratulatory Letter from the Emperor of Germany. 
 
 " The completion of the first century of our national existence should be commemorated by an Exhibition of the natural resources of the 
 country and their development, and ot'its progress in those arts which beneSt mankind." PRESIDENT GRANT'S MESSAGE TO CONGRESS. 
 
 hundred years after the Dec- 
 laration of Independence at Phil 
 adelphia, which great event gave 
 birth and national sovereignty to 
 a new Republic, the centennial 
 commemoration of that august act 
 filled the land with such festival 
 and pageant of joy, as only a free 
 people prosperous, powerful, and 
 renowned, could be expected to 
 exhibit. From a feeble beginning, 
 of thirteen weakly colonies, with 
 a scattered population of three 
 million people, struggling with 
 war and debt, they had now at- 
 tained to the colossal growth of 
 nearly forty great commonwealths and forty million inhabitants, and, in respect to 
 whatever relates to man's material and moral advancement, found themselves unexcelled 
 by any empire o r kingdom on the face of the wide earth. 
 
 :H T11OMAS JEFFERSOX WROTE THE DECLARATION 
 OF INDEPEKDEXCE. 
 
690 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 Anticipation? ot the coming anniversary 
 had long bee.i prominent in the minds of 
 the people and, in view of the peculiarly 
 national character of the event, it was at 
 an early stage of the discussion brought 
 before the assembled wisdom of the repub- 
 lic, in the halls of congress, the result of 
 which was the adoption of the idea that 
 liad for some time become widely popular, 
 namely, that an exhibition of American 
 and foreign arts, products, and manufac- 
 tures be held, under the auspices of the 
 government of the United States, in the 
 city of Philadelphia, in the year 1876. 
 To this end, the centennial commission 
 was appointed two commissioners from 
 each state and territory, nominated by 
 their respective governors, and approved 
 by the president. Under this organiza- 
 tion, the vast work of preparation com- 
 menced, and, on the fourth of July, 1873, 
 the ground set apart for the purpose was 
 dedicated with appropriate ceremonies. 
 i.ne result of the succeeding three years 
 of labor on the part of the commission, 
 showed that not only from every section of 
 our own land did the choicest contributions 
 accumulate in every department of art, 
 science, and mechanism, but that all for- 
 eign countries also, in response to the 
 invitation extended to them by the Amer- 
 ican government, were in sympathy with 
 the Republic and its auspicious era; so 
 that, at the time designated for the grand 
 ushering in of the year's ceremonials, there 
 was presented the most wondrous micro- 
 cosm of civilization ever concentrated in 
 one locality. There was, in fact, the cul- 
 minating art and skill of sixty centuries 
 of human advancement, and the products 
 of every quarter of the globe, displayed in 
 their richest illustrations, the beauty, 
 utility, and magnificence, of the Orient 
 and Occident, in boundless combinations. 
 
 On the day of the formal inauguration 
 of the exposition, and at which were pres- 
 ent hundreds of thousands of joyous spec- 
 tators; with dignitaries from both hemi- 
 spheres, the occasion was appropriately 
 introduced by the vast orchestra perform- 
 ing the national airs of all nations, as fol- 
 
 lows : The "Washington Mar^h ; Argen- 
 tine Republic, Marche de la Republica; 
 Austria, Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser; 
 Belgium, La Brabansonne ; Brazil, Hymno 
 Brasileira Nacional; Denmark, Volkslied 
 den tappre Landsoldat; France, La 
 Marseillaise; Germany, Was ist des 
 Deutschen Vaterland; Great Britain, God 
 Save the Queen; Italy, Marcia del Re; 
 Netherlands, Wie neerlandsch bloed ; Nor- 
 way, National Hymn; Russia, National 
 Hymn ; Spain, Riego's Spanish National 
 Hymn ; Sweden, "Volksongen Bevare Gud 
 var Kung; Switzerland, Heil dir Helve- 
 tia; Turkey, March; Hail Columbia. 
 
 Following this musical prelude, the bold 
 chords of Wagner's centennial inauguration 
 march filled the air with floods of richest 
 harmony ; solemn prayer was offered by 
 Bishop Simpson ; and then a superb chorus 
 of nearly a thousand voices, accompanied 
 by orchestra and organ, sang Whittier's 
 centennial hymn, set to music by John K. 
 Payne. Formal presentation being now 
 made of the building to the United States 
 Centennial Commission by the president 
 of the board of finance to General Hawley, 
 president of the centennial commission, a 
 cantata was sung with fine effect, the 
 words by Lanier, of Georgia, and the 
 music by Buck, after which the ceremo- 
 nial presentation of the Exhibition to the 
 President of the United States was made 
 by General Hawley, in an eloquent address, 
 to which General Grant responded in a 
 eulogistic speech of acceptance, reviewing 
 the progress of the century, bidding the 
 whole world welcome, and declaring the 
 exhibition open. On this announcement, 
 the orchestra, chorus and great organ burst 
 forth into triumphal strains of the ' Halle- 
 lujah,' from the "Messiah," acclamations 
 and huzzas rent the air ; and the unprec- 
 edented spectacle was witnessed, of an 
 American President and a crowned Empe- 
 ror the emperor of Brazil being present, 
 and at President Grant's side, receiving 
 the enthusiastic salutations of the Ameri- 
 can people. 
 
 The ca.e of Dom Pedro, it may be here 
 remarked, furnishes the only instance in 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 69 J 
 
692 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 the history of our century, of a reigning 
 crowned head visiting the United States, 
 with the exception of Kalakaua, king of 
 the Sandwich Islands, whose tour occur- 
 red in 1874-5. 
 
 And here may be cited one of the most 
 notable scenes which transpired on this 
 wonderful occasion, namely, the starting 
 of the stupendous engine constructed by 
 Mr. Corliss, which was to move the four- 
 teen acres of machinery, comprising some 
 eight thousand different machines, in the 
 building devoted to that specialty. This 
 starting operation was performed jointly 
 by President Grant and Emperor Dom 
 Pedro II., under the direction of Mr. Cor- 
 liss. These two great personages took the 
 
 THE CORLISS ENGINE. 
 
 positions assigned them by Mr. Corliss, 
 who explained by a motion of the hands 
 nd a word or two, as to how the engines 
 were to be started by the single turning 
 of a slender steel arm, like the brake of a 
 street railway car, this action opening 
 the throttle valve, and then the vast but 
 quiet building would be instantly alive 
 with all the functions of every kind of a 
 factory in full practice. The time had 
 arrived for the movement, and a most 
 imposing array of eminent officials sur- 
 rounded the president and emperor. 
 "Now, Mr. President," said Mr. Corliss. 
 "Well," said the president, quietly, "how 
 
 shall I do it ? " The answer was, " Turn 
 that little crank around six times." Pres- 
 ident Grant made a motion with his fin- 
 gers, inquiringly, "This way?" "Yes." 
 In another half minute, the screw was 
 turned by the president, the colossal ma- 
 chine above him began to move, the miles 
 of shafting along the building began to 
 revolve, innumerable steel and iron organ- 
 isms were set going, and a visitor who 
 retraced his steps could examine the proc- 
 esses of half the important manufactures on 
 the globe. At the wave of Mr. Corliss's 
 hand, the emperor gave a sharp turn of 
 his wrist and started his engine a moment 
 in advance of the president; but the re- 
 sponse of the machinery at the single 
 touch of these two men countless wheels 
 turning, bands beginning their rounds, 
 cogs fitting into their places, pistons driv- 
 ing backward and forward and up and 
 down, performing their infinitely varied 
 functions was so almost simultaneous, 
 that few suspected that the Brazilian 
 monarch had outstripped his host. This 
 engine weighs eight hundred tons; will 
 drive eight miles of shafting; has a fly- 
 wheel thirty feet in diameter and weigh- 
 ing seventy tons; is of fourteen hundred 
 horse-power, with a capacity of being 
 forced to twenty-five hundred ; has two 
 walking-beams, weighing twenty-two tons 
 each ; two forty-inch cylinders, a ten-feet 
 stroke, a crank-shaft nineteen inches in 
 diameter and twelve feet in length ; con- 
 necting rods twenty-four feet in length, 
 and piston rods six and one-fourth inches 
 in diameter ; height from the floor to the 
 top of the walking-beams, thirty-nine feet. 
 It was in vastness, power, and ingenuity, 
 the mechanical marvel of the exhibition. 
 
 The plan of construction for the accom- 
 modation of the several grand features of 
 the exposition, comprised five main build- 
 ings conveniently located at different 
 points on the five hundred acres devoted 
 to centennial purposes, being about one- 
 sixth of the area of Fairmount Park, on 
 the Schuylkill river, than which no more 
 delightful locality could have been selected. 
 These structures consisted, respectively, of 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 393 
 
 the main building, having an area of about 
 twenty-one ami a-half acres; that for ma- 
 chinery, fourteen acres; for agriculture, ten 
 acres; for horticulture, one and a-half; 
 for art, one and a-half. In addition to 
 these, the number of special structures, 
 including the memorial hall, and those 
 erected by the United States government, 
 by foreign nations, by the different States, 
 by the women, etc., etc., was among the 
 hundreds. Many of these were of great 
 cost and striking architectural beauty, 
 and, with statues, fountains, flower plots, 
 and other decorative objects innumerable, 
 produced a scene of surpassing attraction. 
 
 The variety of special celebrative events, 
 in combination with the wondrous display 
 of every marvel and masterpiece gathered 
 from art and nature in the four continents, 
 attending this centennial commemoration, 
 may be judged of by the following pro- 
 gramme: Harvesting display; trials of 
 steam plows and tillage implements; ex- 
 hibition of horses and mules, of horned 
 cattle, of sheep, swine, goats, and dogs, 
 of poultry; national gathering of the 
 Order of Good Templars ; international 
 regatta; yacht regatta; gathering of the 
 Sons of Temperance ; the Grand Army of 
 the Republic ; Knights Templars ; wo- 
 men's temperance union ; Am. musical as- 
 sociation ; international series of cricket 
 matches; congress of authors in Inde- 
 pendence Hall ; parade of Roman Catholic 
 societies and dedication of their magnifi- 
 cent fountain; parade of military organ- 
 izations ; parade of the Knights of Pyth- 
 ias; international rowing regatta; inter- 
 national rifle matches ; international med- 
 ical congress ; parade of the Odd Fellows ; 
 reunions of the army of the Potomac, 
 Cumberland, and James ; etc., etc. 
 
 Memorial Hall, or the art gallery, a 
 most beautiful structure, was erected at 
 the expense of the state of Pennsylvania 
 and the city of Philadelphia, as a perma- 
 nent commemoration of the centennial. 
 In its construction, nothing but granite, 
 brick, glass and iron, were used. Its su- 
 perb hall, pavilions, galleries and arcades, 
 are surmounted with a dome of crystal 
 
 and iron, terminating in a colossal bell, 
 and, at the apex, Columbia rises, with 
 protecting hands. Within these walls, 
 the treasures of painting and sculpture 
 displayed were almost beyond enumera- 
 tion certainly beyond description. 
 
 The colossal proportions of the main 
 building struck every visitor's wondering 
 attention, relieved, however, by its ex- 
 quisitely artistic form and endless expanse 
 of complementary colors, and, within, a 
 universe of the wonderful and beautiful, 
 such as the eye of man never before be- 
 held nor his hand created. The position 
 of the nations in this vast structure was 
 an interesting matter to determine, being 
 finally decided as follows : Within the 
 line of railing extending across the en- 
 trance, to the north of the nave, the pavil- 
 ions of Italy ; passing east, the arrange- 
 ment comprised Norway, then Sweden, 
 with the English colonies as a neighbor ; 
 Canada adjoined, and then the mother 
 country, Great Britain, occupying a large 
 space down to the transept ; beyond En- 
 gland was France, and the next in line, 
 still on the north of the nave, Switzerland ; 
 near the eastern end, and covering as much, 
 room as France, Switzerland, Belgium, 
 Brazil, the Netherlands, and Mexico com- 
 bined, the United States exhibited her 
 wonderful progress, in innumerable illus- 
 trations ; opposite to Great Britain, ap- 
 peared the German Empire, alongside 
 Austria, and Hungary in the rear; ap- 
 proaching still towards the west, but on 
 the south side of the nave, came Russia 
 and Spain, arid, along the nave, followed 
 Egypt, Turkey, Denmark, and Sweden, 
 while in the rear of these were Tunis, 
 Portugal, and the Sandwich Islands ; in 
 the front rank was Japan, facing Norway 
 and Sweden, and next to the latter, and 
 back of her, was China ; Chili had a place 
 near the entrance from the west, and, near 
 by, was the Argentine Republic. These 
 were the locations of the principal nation- 
 alities. 
 
 Handsome, and grand in its amplitude, 
 and tasty in its harmonies of form and 
 color, the machinery building fairly be- 
 
694 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 696 
 
 wildered both the eye and mind of the 
 observer, by its ever-varying contents, 
 while the prevalent somberness of its acres 
 of iron and steel construction was pleas- 
 antly relieved by the cheerful coloring. 
 Horticultural hall seemed like some fairy 
 palace, with its light and airy design, and 
 delicate ornamentation, the grand conserv- 
 atory alone constituting a world of beauty 
 
 tures ; was built almost entirely of wood 
 and glass, and the color a delicate whitish 
 tint throughout, no effort, however, be- 
 ing made in the way of ornamentation, 
 but simply to have a structure suitable for 
 the purpose and in keeping with the char- 
 acter of the exhibits. The woman's build- 
 ing, or pavilion, devoted entirely to the 
 results of woman's skill, was an attractive 
 
 INDEPENDENCE HALL, JDLY 4, 1876. 
 
 to all lovers of nature ; in the flower beds 
 surrounding this structure, more than 
 thirty thousand hyacinth and tulip bulbs 
 were planted, to display, with thousands 
 of other beautiful plants, their full bloom 
 on the opening or inauguration day. Ag- 
 ricultural hall was entirely different in 
 appearance from any of the other struo 
 
 structure, covering some thirty thousand 
 square feet, and filled with the dulce et 
 utile from all lands. The government 
 building, of substantial and elegant de- 
 sign, contained a revelation of wonders 
 connected with the army and navy, the 
 department of agriculture, the post-office, 
 patent office, signal service, ordnance bu- 
 
0!MJ 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMufiATION. 
 
 reau, light-house ooard, and all the subor- 
 dinate ilupartineuts and bureaus in any 
 way connected with the government. 
 
 in making reference to special objects 
 of interest, brief mention is due in the 
 case of a magnificent piece of silver bul- 
 lion, in one mass, valued at a prodigious 
 sum, and showing, in a conspicuous man- 
 ner, the metallic riches yet to be unearthed 
 in the remote West. 
 
 The Smithsonian Institution showed 
 every kind of American bird in an im- 
 mense group by itself, also every kind of 
 fish, mollusk, reptile and quadruped. 
 
 Queen Victoria's personal contributions 
 comprised a number of etchings by her 
 own hand, also table napkins spun by her- 
 self, and drawings and embroideries from 
 her princess daughters. 
 
 The Pennsylvania Bible Society circu- 
 lated the scriptures in the language of 
 every nationality represented on the 
 grounds, a pure white flag floating from 
 the top of its pavilion, bearing the words 
 of Jer. xxii, 29 : "0 Earth, Earth, Earth, 
 hear the word of the Lord !" 
 
 Among the evidences of Connecticut's 
 skill was the huge centennial time-piece, 
 a clock weighing six tons and having 
 eleven hundred pieces, with wheels four 
 feet in diameter. 
 
 A collection of models, sent by Massa- 
 chusetts, of the various marine craft which 
 hare been employed in her waters, since 
 the first settlement of Plymouth colony 
 some fifty or sixty, most elaborately 
 executed, and all perfect in type from 
 the Indian birch canoes and first fishing 
 boats used on the coast, up to the most 
 improved modern iron-clad, attracted much 
 notice. From the Pennsylvania coal mines 
 came two blocks of coal, weighing, respec- 
 tively, about two and one-fourth and five 
 tons ; and, from her steel works, a solid 
 ingot of steel weighing 25,000 pounds, also 
 a perfect steel rail, rolled, 120 feet long, 
 and weighing 62 pounds per yard. 
 
 In the navy department, the govern- 
 ment exhibited curious specimens of shot 
 iiii:l shells, small arms of all kinds, ships' 
 guns and howitzers, Gatling guns, and 
 
 othor terrible instruments of warfare; 
 marine engines and boilers, showing the 
 improvement made in marine engineering; 
 immense cables, with mammoth iron links; 
 likewise, beautifully finished models of 
 every class of ship on the naval list, in- 
 cluding lines of the famous craft on which 
 Lawrence, Decatur, and McDonough 
 fought and conquered, and the original 
 appearance of " Old Ironsides " was finely 
 reproduced. The patent office poured 
 forth its treasures and curiosities de- 
 vices that have revolutionized labor the 
 world over. More than one case was filled 
 with relics of the great Washington the 
 clothes worn by him on memorable occa- 
 sions, his swords, camp furniture, tents, 
 etc. A complete set of maps showed the 
 different areas of the United States where 
 farm improvements have been made, where 
 woods are most abundant, every tree, 
 shrub, flower, root, cereal and fiber, in 
 their respective sections, the fungi that 
 destroy the different plants, and so on. 
 
 Louisiana's products included a tree 
 loaded with the somber, hanging moss, 
 that renders some of her landscapes so 
 gloomy, but which is now being used as a 
 substitute for hair in mattresses and up- 
 holstery. California sent gold quartz of 
 surpassing richness, and wonderful grain 
 and cacti as well. Of the Indian races, 
 the leading features were aptly epitom- 
 ized, and their habitations, manners, and 
 customs, represented by delegations from 
 different tribes. Of universal interest, of 
 course, was the original draft of the Dec- 
 laration of Independence to be looked at, 
 not touched. Whitefield's portable pulpit, 
 which he usually took with him, and from 
 which, he once said, the gospel had been 
 preached to more than ten millions of peo- 
 ple, was another interesting relic ; also, 
 General Stark's spurs, John Alden's desk, 
 Governor Endicott's folding-chair, the sil- 
 ver pitcher used by Lafayette in Boston, 
 etc. 
 
 The inventions and handiwork of boys 
 included, among other things, a heavy ten- 
 wheel draft locomotive, cylinder eighteen 
 by twenty-two inches, and all of consum- 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 097 
 
 mate finish. The kindergarten plan of 
 teaching was most fully illustrated in all 
 its appliances and methods. 
 
 Massachusetts sent, among its rich and 
 varied contributions, an organ of gigantic 
 proportions, having fifty-nine stops and 
 four banks of keys, its. longest pipe being 
 thirty-two feet and the shortest less than 
 one inch ; also, industrial designs, of strik- 
 ing character, from the Massachusetts in- 
 stitute of technology. Noticeable as a 
 most sumptuous article of taste, was a 
 hundred thousaud dollar necklace from 
 
 pie on the globe, with her thousands of 
 specimens of corn, cotton, sugar, her woods, 
 fruits, honey, perfumery, scimetars ; Aus- 
 tralia, her mineral and agricultural prod- 
 ucts, tin, iron, wool, wood; Canada, her 
 row-boats, furs, iron-work ; Scotland, her 
 cut stones aud precious gems, in every 
 form of exquisite jewelry; Switzerland, 
 her watches of world-famed beauty ; Nor- 
 way, and Sweden, their glass-work, wood 
 carvings, porcelains, irons and steels ; Hol- 
 land, her magnificent models of sea-coast 
 works, bridges, dams, aqueducts; Belgium, 
 
 Jl.-ICX SQUAF.E. KEW YORK, JULY 4, 1876. 
 
 New York city, also the Bryant vase ; 
 and, from Providence, the ' century vase,' 
 of solid silver, being five feet four inches 
 in length and four feet two inches high, 
 and weighing two thousand ounces. Each 
 State and section, in a word, presented its 
 special exhibits, in superbest examples and 
 endless profusion, tiring the eye and baf- 
 fling description. 
 
 Glancing a moment at the countless 
 riches in every department of nature, art, 
 and mechanism, which flowed from foreign 
 nations of every zone, mention may first 
 be made of Egypt the most ancient peo- 
 
 her curiously carved balustrades, cornice 
 ornaments, statues ; China, her jars, vases, 
 and other specimens of ceramic art ; Japan, 
 her multitudinous porcelains and bronzes; 
 Cuba, her palms, agaves, cact, and other 
 tropical plants ; Italy, her fine art contri- 
 butions, including rare aud priceless gems 
 from the Vatican, sent by Pius IX. ; 
 France, with its selectest elaborations in 
 almost every department of knowledge 
 and handicraft, not least among which 
 being its Gobelin tapestries and Sevres 
 fabrics; Great Britain, her infinitude of 
 Vv'oolen, cotton and silk goods, carpetings, 
 
698 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 hardware, and paintings from illustrious 
 artists ; and so followed on, in magnifi- 
 cent array, Austria, Germany, Russia, 
 Spain, Portugal, Denmark, Turkey, Brazil, 
 and others of the great family of nations, 
 with the choicest products of their mines 
 and looms, foundries and workshops, lapi- 
 daries and ateliers. 
 
 But why commence, even, the impossi- 
 ble task of describing fifty teeming acres 
 of templed wonders from every clime 
 the marvels and masterpieces of nature, 
 science, and art, in bewildering variety 
 and richness. No traversing, in fact, at 
 all equal to the occasion, can here be es- 
 sayed. It will require, indeed, all the 
 copious volumes intended to be issued 
 under official auspices, adequately to elab- 
 orate and portray the genius and results 
 presented in a display so unexampled in 
 the history of man. 
 
 Nor would it be scarcely less impos- 
 sible, in the scope of a single chapter, to 
 sufficiently characterize the enthusiasm, 
 wide-spread as the continent, which usher- 
 ed in and prolonged the observance of the 
 Anniversary Day in especial, JULY 
 FOURTH, which numbered the first hun- 
 dred years of the greatest republic upon 
 which the sun ever shone. To say that 
 the festal ingenuity of nearly forty great 
 States and forty millions of people, with 
 their tens of thousands of cities, towns, 
 and villages, fairly spent itself, in efforts 
 to suitably commemorate the Wonderful 
 Annivetsary, is only faintly expressing the 
 fact. It was a festival of oratory, music, 
 poetry, parade, bells, illuminations, regat- 
 tas, cannon, banners, hallelujahs and huz- 
 zas. 
 
 At Philadelphia, the central point of 
 historic interest and centennial ovation, 
 the resources of a whole nation's pomp 
 and glory seemed drawn upon, on a scale 
 eclipsing, in extent and variety, any cele- 
 brative occasion in the annals of the re- 
 public. Congress, sitting in its halls in 
 the capitol at Washington, had a few days 
 previously passed a resolution of adjourn- 
 ment to meet, on this wonderful day, in 
 Independence Hall, where, one hundred 
 
 years before, occurred the birth of the 
 nation, and where, subsequently, was 
 framed that immortal instrument which 
 gave to the republic a constitutional gov- 
 ernment, the wisest and most admirable 
 ever conceived by uninspired men. 
 
 That the celebration in this city was, 
 in every respect worthy of an occasion so 
 august and of a spot so historically sacred 
 and national, was universally admitted. 
 A parade of troops, societies and officials 
 took place in the morning, ending at In- 
 dependence Hall. The Centennial legion 
 of troops from North and South was 
 commanded by General Heath, formerly 
 of the confederate army, and the proces- 
 sion in various other ways reflected the 
 strength of the renewed feeling of national 
 unity and fraternity. In Independence 
 Square, the vice-president of the United 
 States, Hon. Thomas W. Ferry, presided ; 
 prayer was offered by Bishop Stevens; 
 Dr. 0. W. Holmes's 'Welcome to the 
 Nations' was sung; Bayard Taylor read 
 his national ode; Hon. William M. Ev- 
 arts pronounced the oration ; the Declara- 
 tion of Independence was read by Richard 
 Henry Lee of Virginia, from the original 
 document, which President Grant had in- 
 trusted for the purpose to the mayor of 
 Philadelphia. The faded and crumbled 
 manuscript, held together by a simple 
 frame, was then shown to the assembled 
 multitude facing the platform, cheer fol- 
 lowing cheer, at this rare spectacle. 
 There was also sung the "Greeting from 
 Brazil," a hymn composed for the occasion 
 by A. Carlos Gomez, of Brazil, by the 
 request of the Emperor, Dom Pedro. 
 After the ode, the orchestra performed a 
 grand triumphal march, with chorus, " Our 
 National Banner," the words being by 
 Dexter Smith, of Massachusetts, and the 
 music by Sir Julius Benedict, of England. 
 On the orator retiring from the speaker's 
 stand, the Hallelujah chorus from the 
 "Messiah" was sung, and then the whole 
 of the vast throng united in singing the 
 Old Hundredth Psalm. The magnificent 
 spectacle presented by the procession was, 
 however, the scene witnessed and enjoyed 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 69 
 
roo 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 with most general interest and admiration. 
 It was miles iu length, and in its ranks 
 every one of the thirteen original States 
 had a picked corps, and it was very evi- 
 dent, from the hearty manner in which 
 General Heath, in the absence of Gen- 
 eral Burnside, formerly commanders, re- 
 spectively, on the field of battle, of ' the 
 boys in blue' and ''the boys in gray,' but 
 now knowing but one color and one flag 
 was received, that the fraternization of 
 the North and the South was genuine and 
 complete, on this great natal anniversary. 
 The procession was under the lead of 
 General and Governor Hartranft, and the 
 splendid pageant was reviewed by General 
 Sherman, Lieutenant- General Sheridan, 
 and General Hooker, in whose company, 
 on the guests' platform, were to be seen 
 hundreds of official dignitaries, of civil and 
 military fame. 
 
 In Boston, as the representative metrop- 
 olis of New England, and as the spot 
 where, almost above all others, our nation's 
 liberties had their origin and chief support, 
 the preparations for the anniversary had 
 been ma'le on a splendid scale, and these 
 were carried out with perfect success to 
 the end, witnessed and enjoyed by the 
 patriotic multitudes who thronged the 
 beautifully decorated city from the earli- 
 est hour. There were parades, concerts, 
 regattas, balloon ascensions, fire-works, 
 and commemorative services at the great 
 Music Hall, under the auspices of the 
 municipal government, the orator being 
 the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, a direct 
 descendant of Governor Winthrop, of co- 
 lonial times, and the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence being read by Mr. Brooks Ad- 
 ams, a great-grandson of John Adams, the 
 revolutionary patriot and leader. On the 
 orator's platform was an article of extraor- 
 dinary interest to the thousands of eyes 
 that were intently concentrated upon it, 
 when, as Mr. Winthrop, in the early part 
 of his oration, said : " And here, by the 
 favor of a highly valued friend and fellow- 
 citizen, to whom it was given by Jefferson 
 himself a few months only before his death, 
 I am privileged to hold in my hands, aud 
 
 to lift up to the eager gaze of you all, a 
 most compact and convenient little ma- 
 hogany case, which bears this autograph 
 inscription on its face, dated Monticello, 
 November 18, 1825, 
 
 ' Thomas Jefferson gives this writing 
 desk to Joseph Coolidge, Jr., as a memo- 
 rial of his affection. It was made from a 
 drawing of his own, by Ben Randall, cab- 
 inet-maker of Philadelphia, with whom he 
 first lodged on his arrival in that city in 
 May, 1776, and is the identical one on 
 which he wrote the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence. Politics, as well as Religion, 
 has its superstitions. These, gaining 
 strength with time, may, one day, give 
 imaginary value! to this relic, for its asso- 
 ciation with the birth of the Great Charter 
 of our Independence.' 
 
 Superstitions! Imaginary value! Not 
 for an instant (continued Mr. Winthrop,) 
 can we admit such ideas. The modesty of 
 the writer has betrayed even the masterly 
 pen. There is no imaginary value to this 
 relic, and no superstition is required to 
 render it as precious and priceless a piece 
 of wood as the secular cabinets of the 
 world have ever possessed, or ever claimed 
 to possess. No cabinet-maker on earth 
 will have a more enduring name than thia 
 inscription has secured to ' Ben Randall of 
 Philadelphia ' No pen will have a wider 
 or more lasting fame than his who wrote 
 the inscription." The applause elicited 
 by these remarks showed that the hearts 
 of the great audience were still filled with 
 the spirit of the fathers and founders of 
 the republic, and that patriotic reverence 
 for their names and deeds had suffered no 
 decay. 
 
 Conspicuously attractive, during the 
 whole day, to the enthusiastic throngs, 
 were the venerable buildings, still remain- 
 ing, so memorably associated with the part 
 taken by Boston during the revolutionary 
 struggle. In the center of the portico at 
 the east end of the Old State House, 
 appeared prominently a fine copy of Paul 
 Revere's painting of the King-Street Mas- 
 sacre, eighteen by ten feet, showing on 
 one side the British soldiers firing upon 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 701 
 
 the population, several of whom lie on the 
 ground, weltering in their blood. Over 
 the picture was a banner inscribed with 
 the words, " Massacre of the People by 
 the British Troops," and, on a wreath 
 above, the date 1776. On each side of 
 the painting stood figures of the Goddess 
 of Liberty holding the American flag in 
 
 ENTRANCE OF THE SEW YORK SEVENTH REGIMENT. 
 
 one hand and an olive branch in the other. 
 On each end of the portico were placed 
 faces and flags of different nations, while 
 above all, on the coping of a window, was 
 perched an eagle, holding in its beak fes- 
 toons of the red, white and blue. Faneuil 
 Hall, the Old Cradle of Liberty, was 
 another of these patriotic shrines. On its 
 western end was placed a medallion, ten 
 feet in diameter, in the center of which 
 
 was a portrait of Lafayette, surrounded by 
 the following sentiment, which was offered 
 by the illustrious Frenchman at a banquet 
 given to him by the authorities, in Au- 
 gust, 1824, viz. : 'The city of Boston 
 the Cradle of Liberty ; may Faneuil Hall 
 ever stand a monument to teach the 
 world that resistance to oppression is a 
 duty, and will, under true republican 
 institutions, become a blessing.' The 
 medallion was encompassed by a glory 
 of French and American flags, and above 
 stood the Goddess of Liberty holding fes- 
 toons of bunting. Christ Church, King's 
 Chapel, and especially the Old South 
 Church within the walls of which last 
 named building, Warren, and Adams, and 
 Otis, and the sons of liberty, gathered 
 and spoke were likewise places of most 
 attractive interest. Local celebrations 
 were held, also, in the various capitals of 
 the States, as well as in hundreds and 
 thousands of other cities, towns and vill- 
 ages, calling forth every manner and mode 
 of joyous festivity, on the part of old and 
 young ; and statesmen, judges, generals, 
 the " honorable of the land," furnished 
 abundant oratory, and a vast amount of 
 local history of permanent value. The 
 honor of firing the first centennial salute 
 in the United States that at the first 
 instant of day-break is claimed, in point 
 of locality and time, for Eastport, Me. 
 
 In New York, as in Philadelphia, the 
 jubilistic demonstrations commenced on a 
 truly metropolitan scale, on the evening 
 of the third. Indeed, the most vivid de- 
 scription would convey only a faint idea of 
 the picturesque and imposing appearance 
 presented in the principal squares and 
 avenues, from nine o'clock until far into 
 the night. In Union Square, the whole 
 scene was one of unparalleled beauty and 
 grandeur, and nothing could be more 
 impressive than when the advanced guard 
 of the monster procession marched into 
 the square by way of the plaza. It was 
 almost an hour after the start of the pro- 
 cession before the head entered the grounds 
 and took position. The members of the 
 Sangerfer Bund were in full force of about 
 
1 02 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 one thousand, on the platform, while the 
 many bands that took part in the pro- 
 cession assembled between the grand stand 
 and the singers' stand. As soon as the 
 immense concourse of people became set- 
 tled, the singing societies performed, with 
 grand effect, Various martial and patriotic 
 airs. Here, as in other parts of the city, 
 the display of fire-works was magnificent; 
 in fact, the lower portion of the city was, 
 in this respect, a scene of bewildering . 
 splendor, Broadway being, as it were, a 
 sea of fire from Dey street to Union square 
 plaza. An electric apparatus at one of the 
 lofty telegraph buildings poured a flood of 
 light over the great thoroughfare ; among 
 the buildings particularly brilliant with 
 illuminations were the city hall, of im- 
 mense and multitudinous windows, the 
 bank, insurance, and newspaper buildings, 
 the hotels, places of business, and a count 
 less number of private residences, and never 
 before in the history of the city was there 
 such universal and gorgeous decoration. 
 Castle William fired a salute of one hun- 
 dred guns from its prodigious fifteen-inch 
 cannon, the church bells chimed and rang, 
 the locomotive and steam-boat whistles 
 screamed ; while all over the city, as well 
 as Brooklyn, Jersey City, and neighbor- 
 ing localities, could be seen thousands of 
 rockets, blue lights, bombs, and other 
 pyrotechnics. Rev. Dr. Storrs was the 
 orator of the day. 
 
 Great parades, illuminations, and decor- 
 
 ations, were the chief features in all the 
 large western cities of the republic. The 
 St. Louis Germans exhibited, in common 
 with their intelligent and thrifty country- 
 men throughout all the Union, the utmost 
 patriotic enthusiasm, the special demon- 
 stration consisting of a vast torch-light 
 procession, and an address by the Hon. 
 Carl Schurz. San Francisco began Mon- 
 day and ran through Wednesday with its 
 varied and magnificent festivities, which 
 included a military review, a sham battle, 
 with mock bombardment from the forts 
 and ships in the harbor and bay, torch- 
 light display, orations, music, etc. In 
 Washington, on account of the official par- 
 ticipation in the exercises at Philadelphia, 
 the celebration was mainly under the 
 auspices of the Oldest Inhabitants' Asso- 
 ciation, at the opera-house, where the 
 Declaration of Independence adopted 
 when what is now the federal capital was 
 a wilderness was read, and an oration 
 pronounced by Hon. L. A. Gob right ; and 
 everywhere the national ensigns, floating 
 from staff and tower, told of the wondrous 
 anniversary. 
 
 In the southern cities, Richmond led off 
 at midnight preceding, by the firing of 
 guns at five different points in and about 
 the city, the festivities continuing far into 
 the night succeeding ; and, in Norfolk and 
 Portsmouth, no Fourth of July had, for 
 many years, been so generally observed. 
 Fire-crackers and cannon were brought 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 703 
 
 into requisition, various societies paraded 
 the streets, and many houses were finely 
 decorated with flags; salutes were fired at 
 sunrise, noon, and sunset, by the naval 
 receiving ship and the monitors, all the 
 government and commercial vessels were 
 decked with bunting, and thousands of 
 people went down to Fortress Monroe to 
 witness the fire-works there displayed. 
 Montgomery, Ala., bid farewell to the Old 
 and saluted the New century of indepen- 
 dence, in handsome style, all business 
 being suspended, the streets and houses 
 streaming with the red, white, and blue ; 
 a salute of thirteen guns was fired at break 
 of day, and of thirty-seven at noon ; a pro- 
 cession of military and fire companies and 
 citizens marched through the streets, and 
 
 commemorated by a grand banquet at the 
 Westminster Palace Hotel, under the 
 auspices of the American legation, a large 
 and distinguished company of citizens of 
 the United States and their English 
 friends being present. It was a magnifi- 
 cent occasion, worthy of the centennial of 
 the greatest Republic in the world. Toasts 
 to the health of President Grant and 
 Queen Victoria were received with ap- 
 plause and music. The sentiment, ' The 
 Day we Celebrate,' was responded to by 
 Rev. Dr. Thompson ; ' The Mother Coun- 
 try,' by Mr. Henry Richard, M. P. ; < The 
 City of London,' by the Lord Mayor; 
 ' The Army and Navy,' by Major-General 
 Crawford ; and ' The newly-appointed Min- 
 ister of the United States,' by Hon Ed- 
 
 WOMAX'S PAVILION. 
 
 Ex-Governor Watts delivered an eloquent 
 oration, the reading of the Declaration of 
 independence being by Neil Blue, the 
 oldest citizen of the place, and the only 
 survivor of those who voted for delegates 
 to the territorial convention that adopted 
 the constitution under which Alabama was 
 admitted as one of the Federal Union. 
 
 Most significant, it may be remarked, 
 was the respect paid to the occasion in 
 foreign countries ; not only the Americans, 
 in all the European cities, joined in cele- 
 brations, some of them outwardly public 
 and participated in by foreigners, but the 
 daily press everywhere discussed the day 
 and its historical lessons. In Dublin there 
 was a popular gathering, numbering thou- 
 sands, and spirited political addresses. In 
 the city of London, the anniversary was 
 
 wards Pierrepont. Extracts from Bayard 
 Taylor's national ode, delivered by him 
 the same day in Philadelphia, were read ; 
 and letters in response to invitations were 
 also read from Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Gladstone, 
 the Duke of Argyle, Earl Granville, Lord 
 Houghton, the Earl of Roseberry, the 
 Earl of Derby, Dean Stanley, John 
 Bright, etc. 
 
 In Paris, the American legation was 
 superbly decorated with flags and insignia, 
 and the American colors were profusely 
 displayed in the principal streets. 
 
 In Lisbon, the American ambassador 
 held a public reception, and gave a ban- 
 quet in the evening ; several of the city 
 journals also noticed the day, in leading 
 articles complimentary to the American 
 people. 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 THB TUlilSIAN TE3IT. 
 
 The Americans residing in Frankfort, 
 Heidelberg, Offenbach, Wiesbaden, and 
 other towns in the vicinity, met in the 
 Frankfort Palm Garden, and there joy- 
 ously celebrated the day with speeches, 
 the reading of the immortal Declaration, a 
 superb banquet, and closing with a concert 
 and magnificent fire-works. In Berlin, 
 the day was magnificently celebrated, 
 Minister Davis presiding, and proposing 
 ' The health of President Grant,' Mr. Fay 
 following with a toast to ' The Emperor 
 of Germany,' and, among others, ' Ameri- 
 can Citizenship,' 'Americans ir, Europe,' 
 and ' The Day we Celebrate,' the latter 
 being in verse. In the evening there was 
 a splendid soiree at the American ambas- 
 sador's, followed by tableaux vivants rep- 
 resenting revolutionary scenes, such as 
 Washington at Valley Forge, Antoinette 
 receiving Lafayette, etc. At Stuttgart, 
 there were salutes, speeches, reading of 
 the Declaration, patriotic hymns and songs, 
 and other festivities. 
 
 Among the incidental matters, of endur- 
 ing interest, pertaining to the day and 
 event, and which are here deserving of rec- 
 ord, may be mentioned the proclamation 
 by the chief magistrate of our nation, in 
 which, with becoming deference to and as 
 reflecting the religious sense of the people, 
 he said : " The centennial anniversary of 
 the day on which the people of the United 
 States declared their right to a separate 
 and equal station among the powers of the 
 earth seems to demand an exceptional 
 observance. The founders of the govern- 
 
 ment, at its birth, and in its feebleness, 
 invoked the blessings and the protection 
 of a divine Providence, and the thirteen 
 colonies and three millions of people have 
 expanded into a nation of strength and 
 numbers commanding the position that 
 was then asserted, and for which fervent 
 prayers were then offered. It seems fit- 
 ting that, on the occurrence of the one 
 hundredth anniversary of our existence as 
 a nation, a grateful acknowledgment be 
 made to Almighty God for the protection 
 and the bounties which he has vouchsafed 
 to our beloved country. I therefore invite 
 the good people of the United States, on 
 the approaching Fourth day of July, in ad- 
 dition to the usual observances with which 
 they are accustomed to greet the return 
 of the day, further, in such manner, and 
 at such time as in their respective locali- 
 ties and religious associations may be 
 most convenient, to mark its recurrence 
 by some public religious and devout 
 thanksgiving to Almighty God, for the 
 blessings which have been bestowed upon 
 us as a nation, during the centenary of 
 our existence, and humbly to invoke a 
 r.ontinnano.e of His favor and of His pro- 
 tection." In response to this, many 
 places of public worship were opened for 
 morning religious devotion. 
 
 Another most notable incident was an 
 autograph letter from the Emperor Wil- 
 liam, of Germany, to the President, con- 
 veying his imperial congratulations to the 
 latter and to the American people. This 
 remarkable letter was officially presented 
 
CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 705 
 
 to President Grant, on the morning of 
 July 4th, by the German ambassador in 
 person, and was as follows : 
 
 WILLIAM, by the grace of God, Emperor 
 of Germany, King of Prussia, etc. 
 
 To THE PRESIDENT OP THE UNITED 
 STATES : Great and Good Friend, It 
 has been vouchsafed to you to celebrate 
 the Centennial festival of the day upon 
 which the great republic over which you 
 preside entered the rank of independent 
 nations. The purposes of its founders 
 have, by a wise application of the teach- 
 ings of the history of the foundation of na- 
 tions, and with insight into the distant fu- 
 ture, been realized by a development with- 
 out a parallel. To congratulate you and 
 the American people upon the occasion 
 affords me so much the greater pleasure, 
 because, since the treaty of friendship 
 which my ancestor of glorious memory, 
 King Frederick II., who now rests with 
 God, concluded with the United States, un- 
 disturbed friendship has continually exist- 
 ed between Germany and America, and has 
 been developed and strengthened by the 
 ever-increasing importance of their mutual 
 relations, and by an intercourse, becoming 
 more and more fruitful, in every domain 
 of commerce and science. That the wel- 
 fare of the United States, and the friend- 
 ship o the two countries, may continue to 
 increase, is my sincere desire and confi- 
 dent hope. 
 
 Accept the renewed assurance of my 
 unqualified esteem. WILLIAM. 
 
 Countersigned, VON BISMARCK. 
 BERLIN, June 9, 1876. 
 
 On account of the great interest in this 
 friendly document from "Fatherland," 
 which was naturally excited among the 
 German population of our country, (now 
 numbering some millions of our most pat- 
 riotic people,) we likewise reproduce the 
 letter in its native language, together with 
 an authorized fac-simile of the Emperor's 
 autograph, also a fine portrait of the vener- 
 able monarch, and an engraving of the 
 new national flag, none of which features 
 
 are to be found in any other volume pub- 
 lished in the United States. 
 
 A letter of similar purport, though not 
 received in season to be delivered to the 
 president on the Fourth, was also sent by 
 the Czar of Russia, also by King Victor 
 Emauuel, of Italy, and from other na- 
 tions. 
 
 Noteworthy, perhaps, above all the other 
 inspiring incidents of the day, and which 
 wrought up the people's patriotic sensibil- 
 ities to the most fervid pitch, was the 
 scene already briefly alluded to on a pre- 
 ceding page, when Mayor Stokley pre- 
 sented to Kichard Henry Lee, of Virginia, 
 the original Declaration of Independence, 
 Mr. Lee's grandfather having, one hun- 
 dred years ago, offered the resolution to 
 the Continental Congress, " that these 
 United Colonies are, and of right ought to 
 be, free and independent States." On the 
 age-dimmed but immortal parchment being 
 exhibited, in its massive frame, to the 
 sight of the people, men swung their hats, 
 and cheered with almost frantic enthus- 
 iasm ; women waved their handkerchiefs, 
 and in some instances gave audible utter- 
 ances to their transport of delight ; chil- 
 dren innumerable were held up in the 
 struggling mass of humanity to view the 
 venerated national relic ; and, amidst the 
 wildest expressions of joy on every side, 
 that ascended to and seemed to rend the 
 very heavens, the 'sacred document was 
 read. The chord of unity and sympathy, 
 full, free, and entire, ran through the vast 
 assemblage, as though no territorial sec- 
 tionalism had ever marred the nation's 
 harmony or, if it had, that all by-gones 
 were now happily buried and obliviated. 
 And, as between North and South, noth- 
 ing could have given more gracious assur- 
 ance of present good will and future 
 promise of amity and accordant purpose, 
 than the message dispatched by the mayor 
 of the former capital of the Southern Con- 
 federacy, as follows: "The people of 
 Montgomery, Alabama, the birthplace of 
 the Confederate government, through its 
 City Council, extend a cordial and fraternal 
 greeting to all the people of the United 
 
roe 
 
 CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION. 
 
 States, with an earnest prayer for the per- 
 petuation of concord and brotherly feelings 
 throughout the land." And in this spirit 
 the representatives of all sections met 
 together in the city where the Republic 
 had its birth, and in this spirit, too, the 
 memorable day was ushered in and cel- 
 
 ebrated wherever floated the ensigns 
 of American nationality ; fraternization, 
 North, South, East, and West, was uni- 
 versal ; all hearts united in the ascription 
 of " Glory to God in the highest," for the 
 Past ; and deep answered unto deep, in the 
 gladsome acclaim 
 
s* 
 
 It I ! I 
 
LXXXIV. 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD, IN WASH- 
 INGTON, JULY 2, 1S81. 
 
 His Departure from the White House, on that Day, with Secretary Blaine, on a Brief Tonr of Recreation. 
 Excellent Health, Spirits, and Happy Anticipations. Arrival at the Depot. A Lurking Assassin, C. 
 J. Guiteau, Approaches in the Rear. A Startling but Harmless Shot, followed by Another which 
 Enters the Body. The President Sinks to the floor. A Hideous Tragedy. Capture of the Murderer ; 
 his Character and Utterances. The Wounded Victim Conveyed in an Ambulance to the Executive 
 Mansion. The Nation Horrified, and the Whole Civilized World Shocked. Condolences from the 
 Remotest Courts and Governments. Unaffected Sympathy from all Political Parties. Past Differences 
 Hushed and Forgotten. Eleven Weeks of Suffering. Heroism and Resignation of the Patient. 
 Devotion and Fortitude of the President's Wife. Removal to Long Branch, N. J. Temporary Relief. 
 Hovering between Life and Death. Solemn Prayers for his Recovery. Sudden and Fatal End of 
 the Struggle. A Pall over Four Continents. Tributes from Sovereigns and Peoples the World Over. 
 The Wail and Lamentation of Mankind. Funeral Procession and Ceremonies. Queen Victoria's 
 Bloral Offering on the Bier. At Rest, in Lake View Cemetery, Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 The path of glory leads but to the grave." 
 
 the fourth of March, 
 1881, James A. Gar- 
 field, of Ohio, was in- 
 augurated President of the 
 United States, to which high 
 office he had been elected by 
 the popular vote of his coun- 
 trymen. Long a citizen of Mentor, 
 Ohio, he had for many years repre- 
 sented his district in the halls of 
 Congress, and now, taking his 
 departure from one of the most 
 attractive homes and delightful com- 
 munities on the last day of February, 
 to assume his duties as chief magis- 
 trate of fifty millions of people, he 
 thus affectingly addressed himself, 
 to his friends and neighbors, words 
 which now are treasured, as a legacy 
 most tender and revered, by those 
 whose good fortune it was to be 
 present : 
 " You have come from your homes 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 709 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT OAKFIF.LD. 
 
 than which no happier are known in 
 this country from this beautiful lake- 
 side, full of all that makes a country life 
 happy, to give me your blessing and fare- 
 well. You do not know how much I leave 
 behind me of friendship and confidence 
 and home-like happiness ; but I know I am 
 indebted to this whole people for acts of 
 kindness, of neighborly friendship, of polit- 
 ical trust, of public support, that few men 
 have ever enjoyed at the hands of any peo- 
 ple. You are a part of this great community 
 of northern Ohio which for so many years 
 has had no political desire but the goo 1 of 
 
 the country, no wish but the promotion of 
 liberty and justice, has had no scheme but 
 the building up of all that was worthy and 
 true in our republic. If I were to search 
 over all the world, I could not find a better 
 model of political spirit, of aspirations for 
 the true and right, than I have found in 
 this community, during the eighteen years 
 its people have honored me with their con- 
 fidence. I thank the citizens of the county 
 for their kindness, and especially my neigh- 
 bors of Mentor, who have demanded so 
 little of me and have done so much to 
 make my home a refuge and a joy. What 
 
710 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PKESIDENT GAKFIELD. 
 
 awaits me I cannot now speak of, but I 
 shall carry to the discharge of the duties 
 that lie before me, to the problems and 
 dangers I may meet, a sense of your con- 
 fidence and love, which will always be 
 answered by my gratitude. Neighbors, 
 friends, and constituents, Farewell ! " 
 
 Four days after this cheery yet half 
 pathetic adieu, the veteran statesman and 
 brave soldier stond with uncovered head, 
 in the presence of a vast and brilliant mul. 
 titude beneath the dome of the nation's 
 capitol, and there, with hand upraised, and 
 
 and there had lately been arranged, in 
 connection with this visit to Williamstown, 
 a somewhat extended trip through Ver- 
 mont, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts, 
 in which he was to be accompanied by 
 Mrs. Garfield and two or three of their 
 children, several members of the cabinet, 
 with their wives, and other particular 
 friends. All the arrangements for this 
 joyous pleasure trip had been carefully 
 completed, and every one of the party was 
 anticipating a delightful ten days' jaunt. 
 Those who were to start from Washington 
 
 HOME OF PRESIDENT GAKF1ELD, MENTOK, OHIO. 
 
 reverently kissing the Bible, took solemn 
 oath, as President of the United States, 
 to preserve, protect and defend the Consti- 
 tution thereof. The cares, harassments 
 and contests of this high office, mingled 
 with family affliction, thronged in full 
 measure upon him, and it was not until 
 the burning sun of July rendered exist- 
 ence fairly uncomfortable that he sought 
 change and relief. 
 
 For some time past, he had cherished the 
 expectation of being present at the com- 
 mencement exercises of his alma mater, 
 Williams College, in Williamstown, Mass., 
 
 were to take a special car attached to the 
 limited express train for New York, at 
 half-past nine o'clock, Saturday morning. 
 They were to be joined at New York by 
 Mrs. Garfield and two or three others of 
 the president's family, who had been so- 
 journing at Long Branch, N. J., on account 
 of Mrs. Garfield's ill health, from which, 
 however, she was happily recovering. The 
 president had looked forward to this trip 
 with eagerness and delight, and in view of 
 it had been in the best of spirits, notwith- 
 standing the political infelicities which 
 beset him. The night before, he and Sec- 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 711 
 
 MRS. GARFIELD. 
 
 retary Elaine had been engaged together, 
 until a late hour, in conference upon public 
 business.' The president, nevertheless, 
 arose early the next morning, and, after 
 finishing up some executive business, break- 
 fasted with his son, and gave final direc- 
 tions to the private secretary, who was to 
 remain at his usual post. 
 
 He took a carriage with Secretary Elaine, 
 to drive to the station of the Baltimore 
 and Potomac railroad, corner of Sixth and 
 B streets, just off Pennsylvania avenue. 
 They drove to the B street entrance, which 
 admits chiefly to the ladies' room, a pleas- 
 ant carpeted apartment, furnished with 
 fixed wooden settees, so arranged as to 
 leave a broad passage way directly from 
 the outer door to the opposite side of 
 the room. Two doors open from the 
 side of the room opposite the outer door 
 into the large waiting room for gentle- 
 men, and it was necessary to pass around 
 
 the ends of the benches, either to the 
 right or left, to reach one of these doors. 
 In the ladies' room there had been ob- 
 served a nervous, short, thick-set man, 
 restless in his movements, passing back 
 and forth, his conduct striking enough to 
 attract the attention of the woman in 
 charge. George, the well known colored 
 coachman of the distinguished party, drove 
 to the steps, and the door of the coach was 
 opened. The president was not in any 
 hurry to get out. A porter took the lug. 
 gage through the room. The president, 
 seeing a depot official near by, asked him 
 how much time he had before the train left. 
 
 "You have ten minutes, sir," was the 
 reply. 
 
 The president made no haste to leave 
 the carriage, but sat talking with Secretary 
 Elaine, in the most informal and chatty 
 way. They did not expect to see one 
 another for some weeks, for it was Mr. 
 
712 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 Blaine's purpose to go to his home in 
 Maine, in a day or two, for a prolonged 
 stay. The president stepped from the 
 carriage, Mr. Blaine after him, and, as he 
 stood there, he lifted his hat to a lady ; 
 his physical health seemed so robust as to 
 cause the lady to speak of it to her husband. 
 The president entered the depot, Mr. 
 Blaine with him, and was passing along 
 the aisle leading fiom the door to the inner 
 or large waiting room. Suddenly there 
 was a report, seemingly like that of one 
 f the larger fire-crackers in such common 
 use during Fourth-of-July week. The 
 president himself exhibited no apprehen- 
 sion, not even paying the slightest heed 
 to the sound, had he done so, had he 
 turned, he might possibly have seen the 
 assassin, who stood there, cool and quiet, 
 not more than three feet behind him, with 
 a revolver pointed at his back. Neither 
 did Mr. Blaine manifest any uneasiness, 
 in fact, though people were moving pro- 
 miscuously around, and within arm's reach 
 of the assassin, no one seemed to suspect 
 that murder was about to be committed. 
 It was in an instant. The reports were 
 only such a time apart as sufficed for the 
 re-cocking of the revolver. At the second 
 one, the president stopped, turned, saw the 
 assassin standing there with the ready 
 revolver, and for an instant he and his 
 murderer were face to face. Then the 
 president reeled. He fainted not to un- 
 consciousness but to weakness, and even 
 before he was well caught he fell to the 
 floor, striking the bench as he did so. 
 
 There ivas terror at once. The secretary 
 of state seemed instantly to realize what 
 had happened and what its consequences 
 were. He shouted for help. He called 
 ' Rockwell, Rockwell, where is Rockwell ? " 
 Then he turned, and seemed to be about to 
 make for the assassin, but the latter was 
 already in the firm grasp of others. Then 
 the secretary of state knelt ilown beside 
 the president, though already tender hands 
 had raised and were supporting Mr. Gar- 
 field's head. Mrs. Smith, the lady in 
 charge of the room, in an instant was at 
 
 his side ; she had even, in the brief time 
 that was necessary for her to reach him, 
 given orders that water be brought at 
 once. Kneeling there beside him, she 
 raised his head, placed it in her lap, and 
 bathed his face. The president uttered 
 no sound, and said not a word, but when 
 his son Harry, who was to accompany him 
 on the trip, came running back from the 
 outer platform and saw his father, who 
 but a moment ago he had left in such 
 splendid health and vigor, and now pros- 
 trate, with half closed eyes and bloodless 
 brow, he bent down to his father's form, 
 and recognition and a whisper followed; 
 the pres dent's eyes closed again, and his 
 son cried piteously. 
 
 It was for the moment impossible to 
 say how or where the president had been 
 wounded. It was enough to know that 
 he had received such a wound as required 
 instant medical attendance. The depot was 
 at once thronged. People stood around 
 him, standing tiptoe behind each other, so 
 that not only the president, but his attend- 
 ants, suffered greatly for the lack of air. 
 The building was cleared, and a mattress 
 was brought. The president was tenderly 
 lifted and placed upon it, still uttering no 
 sound, and was borne to the superintend- 
 ent's room. Secretaries Windom, James, 
 and Lin -oln were by the president's side 
 immediately after the shooting. The for- 
 mer, bending gently over the president, 
 inquired of him where he was wounded. 
 The president's first thought seems to 
 have been of his wife, saying 
 
 " Go and telegraph my wife that I am 
 hurt, and ask her, if she feels able, to come 
 on to Washington at once." 
 
 The secretary of war, to whom a scene 
 like this was the second in his experi- 
 ence, the first being that of his own 
 father, President Lincoln, gave hurried 
 directions for the calling out of the mili- 
 tary, and also for the procuring of medica? 
 attendance. It was at his orders that the 
 galloping horsemen and the flying coach- 
 men came with such furious pace down 
 | the avenue. They speedily returned with 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 713 
 
 a physician, Dr. Bliss, others also arriving 
 almost simultaneously. At the first glance, 
 Dr. Bliss said, " This is an ugly wound," 
 and Dr. Towusend in a few whispered 
 words, expressed his view of the case to 
 Dr. Bliss. 
 
 It was deemed altogether desirable that 
 the wounded man should be taken to his 
 own house, and MI ambulance was spi'ed- 
 ily brought to the door, and, as soon as 
 the smooth pavement of the avenue was 
 reached, the horses were put to the run, 
 and within an hour of the shooting the 
 president was lying on his own bed, in an 
 upper i hamber of the executive mansion. 
 He complained of pain in his feet more 
 than in his arm or bod}', and at his own re- 
 quest his feet were undressed and rubbed. 
 The doctors cut away his clothing to get 
 at his wound ; but, though the doctor 
 probed the wound with his finger, he could 
 not make out with any certainty what 
 direction the ball had taken, nor where it 
 was lodged. He vomited profusely, which 
 was taken as a sign that he was wounded 
 in a mortal part. 
 
 Meantime, the assassin, who had been 
 promptly secured before he could leave 
 the station, was rapidly driven to police 
 headquarters, and when it became doubt- 
 ful, as it almost immediately did, whether 
 he could be protected from the vengeance 
 of the frenzied populace, he was placed in 
 a carriage and driven to the jail, in the 
 extreme easterly portion of the city. He 
 proved to be Charles J. Guiteau, a shiftless 
 fellow of middle age, sometimes living in 
 one place and sometimes another, obtain- 
 ing an uncertain support by assuming 
 now to be a lawyer, and again lecturer, 
 author, politician, and who had sought to 
 obtain office under government, but un- 
 successfully, a man shunned by all who 
 knew him well, for his various imposi- 
 tions and general worthlessness. He sim- 
 ply turned, after he saw the president fall, 
 and, evidently expecting arrest, uncon- 
 cernedly delivered up his pistol. From 
 his pocket-book was taken the following 
 letter, dated July 2 : 
 
 " To THE WHITE HOUSE : 
 
 The President's tragic death was a sad 
 necessity, but it will unite the republican 
 party and save the republic. Life is a 
 flimsy dream, and it matters little when 
 one goes A human life is of small value. 
 During the war thousands of brave boys 
 went down without a tear. I presume 
 that the President was a Christian, and 
 that he will be happier in Paradise than 
 here. It will be no worse for Mrs. Gar- 
 field, dear soul, to part with her husband 
 in this way than by natural death. He is 
 liable to go at any time, any way. I had 
 no ill will towards the President. His 
 death was a political necessity. I am a 
 lawyer, a theologian, and a politician ; I 
 am a stalwart of the stalwarts ; I was with 
 General Grant and the rest of our men in 
 New York during the canvass. I have 
 some papers for the press, which I shall 
 leave with Byron Andrews and his co- 
 journalists at 1402 New York avenue, 
 where all the reporters can see them. I 
 am going to jail." The wretch exulted in 
 his act, and, on some one asking another, 
 in his hearing, " What did the president 
 do when the shot was fired," Guiteau said, 
 " I'll show you," and, throwing up his 
 right elbow and his hand hanging, re- 
 marked, " That's the way he did, when 
 the shot got him he sort of turned and 
 looked scared." He would inquire of his 
 keepers, as to the president's condition ; 
 when the answer was " better," he would 
 look despondent, but, if told his victim 
 was worse, he would smile. 
 
 And who was the victim of this viper 
 in human form, at whose ghastly deed the 
 whole civilized world stood horrified and 
 shocked, the remotest courts and govern- 
 ments pouring in their condolences, and 
 all party differences hushed and oblivi- 
 ated? 
 
 He may be well called a representative 
 product of our country its institutions 
 and opportunities. Born in Orange, Cuy- 
 ahoga County, 0., in 1831, his father died 
 when James was about two years old, and 
 his boyhood ai:d early manhood presented 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 MRS. ELIZA IS. UAKFIELD. 
 
 a tough, hand to hand struggle with pov- 
 erty, as he fought for an education, aiding 
 meanwhile, his " saintly mother," as he 
 was accustomed to call her, and for whom 
 his love seemed boundless. Like Lincoln, 
 he was in his boyhood employed as a canal 
 driver and wood chopper. But the in- 
 stinct for an education was strong with 
 him, and an attack of ague having inter- 
 rupted the flow of his canal life, he de- 
 cided to go to a school called Geauga 
 Academy, in an adjoining county. Start- 
 ing with but seventeen dollars in money, 
 he worked his own way through the insti- 
 tution at Hiram, Portage County, Ohio, 
 and at the age of twenty-three entered the 
 junior class of Williams College, Mass., 
 and graduated in 1856, with scholastic 
 honors. After this, he was called to teach 
 Latin and Greek at the Hiram institution, 
 
 and one year later was made president of 
 the same. While officiating there, Mr. 
 Garfield married Miss Lucretia Rudolph, 
 herself a teacher, and daughter of a worthy 
 citizen in the neighborhood. In 1859, 
 Mr. Garfield was elected to the state sen- 
 ate ; but when the war broke out, he was 
 appointed Colonel of the Forty-second Ohio 
 regiment, and went to the front in eastern 
 Kentucky. His army record, including 
 the defeat of Humphrey Marshall's forces, 
 participation in the reduction of Pittsburg 
 Landing, at the siege of Corinth, in the 
 operations along the Metvphis and Charles- 
 ton railroad, and as chief of staff of the 
 Army of the Cumberland, was a heroic 
 one rapidly raising him to the rank of 
 Major General, to which he was promoted 
 for gallantry at Chickamauga. In 1862, 
 he was nominated to congress, and ac- 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 715 
 
 cepted because he supposed, in common 
 wiih many others, that the war would be 
 substantially over by the time he would be 
 called to take his seat. His congressional 
 record is one of great force and ability, 
 and includes the chairmanship of the house 
 committee on military affairs, and of the 
 appropriation committee, and, later, he be- 
 came the acknowledged leader of his party 
 in the house. At the close of Mr. Thur- 
 man's term as senator from Ohio, Mr. Gar- 
 field was chosen to succeed him. Before 
 the time arrived, however, for him to take 
 his seat in that august body, the presiden- 
 tial nominating convention assembled in 
 Chicago, resulting in the selection, after 
 many ballotings, of James Abram Gar- 
 field, and to this office the highest elec- 
 tive position in the world he was chosen 
 by his countrymen, in November, 1880. 
 
 In person, Mr. Garfield stood six feet 
 high, was broad shouldered and squarely 
 built, and had an unusually large head, 
 three-fourths of which seemed to be fore- 
 head ; his hair and beard were light brown, 
 large light blue eyes, a prominent nose, and 
 full cheeks. He dressed plainly, wore a 
 broad-brim slouch hat and stout boots, 
 cared little for luxurious living, was sober 
 though not abstinent in all things, and was 
 devoted to his wife, children and home. 
 He was a religious man as well as youth, 
 having early connected himself with the 
 body known as the Disciples of Christ, 
 so numerous in the middle and western 
 States, but having only one place of wor- 
 ship in Washington, the humble build- 
 ing on Vermont Avenue, where Mr. Gar- 
 field attended. 
 
 Soon as possible, by means of telegraph, 
 the president's message to his wife reached 
 her at Elberon, Long Branch, where she 
 was stopping. Her grief was past expres- 
 sion. A second dispatch, saying that her 
 husband would recover, dispelled her fears 
 somewhat, and she soon after started with 
 her family, on a special train. Though 
 weak from her recent illness and the shock 
 of the assassination, Mrs. Garfield showed 
 wonderful courage and self-control, after 
 
 her arrival in Washington. She took her 
 place at her husband's bedside, encourag- 
 ing him with her presence and sympathy, 
 and giving all the aid she could to the 
 attending physicians and nurses, continu- 
 ing this devotedness even when others' 
 hopes and strength failed, to the end of 
 the sad, sad struggle. 
 
 To the venerable mother of the presi- 
 dent, the fearful tidings gave a great 
 shock. " We have heard that James is 
 hurt," said her daughter, Mrs. Larabee. 
 " How ; by the cars ? " asked the mother. 
 " No, he was shot by an assassin, but he 
 was not killed." " The Lord help me ! " 
 exclaimed Mrs. Garfield. She afterwards 
 dictated a dispatch to the family at Wash- 
 ington, saying : " The news was broken 
 to me this morning and shocked me very 
 much. Since receiving your telegram, I 
 feel much more hopeful. Tell James that 
 I hear he's cheerful, and I am glad of it. 
 Tell him to keep in good spirits, and ac- 
 cept the love and sympathy of mother, 
 sisters, and friends. ELIZA GAKFIELD." 
 Bended with years and sorrow, the tender 
 est sympathy was universally felt for the 
 venerable and afflicted woman. 
 
 And now around the bedside of the suf- 
 fering president clustered the watchful 
 and anxious sympathies of fifty millions 
 of people aye, and of all the nations of 
 the world. The fate of the president de- 
 pended on one distressing wound, the ball 
 having entered his body at the back, on 
 the right, in the neighborhood of the elev- 
 enth rib, and necessarily involving in its 
 course the vital parts. Eminent physi- 
 cians, Drs. Bliss, Barnes,Woodward, Rey- 
 burn, Agnew and Hamilton had charge of 
 the case, and bulletins were issued several 
 times daily. The president's mind contin- 
 ued clear, and he early informed Dr. Bliss 
 that he desired to be kept accurately 
 informed about his condition. "Conceal 
 nothing from me, doctor," said he, "for 
 you know I am not afraid to die." In the 
 course of the day, when the indications 
 pointed to his dissolution, the president 
 asked what the prospects were. He said, 
 
716 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PKESIDENT GAEFIELD. 
 
 " Are they bad, doctor ; don't be afraid to 
 tell me frankly. I am ready for the 
 worst." ' Mr. President," replied Dr. 
 Bliss, "your condition is extremely crit- 
 ical. I do not think you can live many 
 hours." " God's will be done, doctor, I 
 am ready to go, if my time has come," 
 was the firm response. About the time 
 he began to rally, he said, " Doctor, what 
 are now the indications ? " Dr. Bliss said, 
 " There is a chance of recovery." " Well, 
 then," replied the president cheerfully, 
 
 seemed favorable, this joy and hope were 
 changed to sadness, at the relapses that 
 followed. The malarial influences pertain- 
 ing to the situation of the White House, 
 in the hot summer season, were considered 
 a most serious drawback, and this, in con- 
 nection with various alarming symptoms 
 that continued to develop themselves, to- 
 gether with the president's urgent desire 
 for a change of air and location, led to the 
 plan of removing him to Long Branch, 
 'N. J. Offers were at once made by the 
 
 DR. D HAYKS AliNEW. 
 
 DR. FRANK H. HAMILTON. 
 
 DK. D. \V. BLISS. 
 
 " we will take that chance." In a similar 
 strain of calmness, resignation, and often- 
 times of pleasantry, did he converse with 
 his other physicians, also with his faithful 
 nurse. Mrs. Edson, and with his warmly 
 attached personal friends, Messrs. Swaim 
 and Rockwell. 
 
 All that human love and skill could do 
 was done, for many weeks, to relieve, com- 
 fort, and restore the distinguished patient ; 
 but, as often as the great public heart was 
 made to swell with joy, when the prospect 
 
 owners of residences at that beautiful and 
 healthy sea- shore resort, of the free use of 
 their houses, and that of Mr. Francklyn, 
 an English gentleman of wealth and public 
 spirit, was finally accepted. 
 
 The removal was made on the sixth of 
 September, by a special train. The jour- 
 ney was accomplished without the slights 
 est trouble, so ample and perfect were the 
 arrangements for the purpose. The appli- 
 ances were so complete, that all trouble 
 from the jarring of the train or rattle of 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 717 
 
 passing the bridges was avoided. The 
 heat was the worst element. No trains 
 were in motion at the time of the passing 
 of the Nation's Special. There was uni- 
 versal turning out at all stations, great 
 and small ; doors of farm houses were 
 crowded ; and workmen in fields and from 
 factories, along the whole line, stood watch- 
 ing for the train, and reverently uncovered 
 as it passed. The speed was great, and 
 the president constantly urged greater, he 
 rode so easily, and felt so strongly the im- 
 portance of saving time, and thus husband- 
 ing his little strength. At Trenton, 
 where it was decided to dress the wound, 
 he said, " Gentlemen, progress seems more 
 important to me," so it was allowed to go 
 
 behalf, that when Mr. Warren Young 
 passed along the room with some mail 
 matter, the president seeing him held out 
 his hand, remarking, " Warren, don't you 
 think I look better to day ?" To which 
 Mr. Young responded in the affirmative ; 
 and, continuing, the president added with 
 emphasis, " and I feel better this is good 
 air." 
 
 The fluctuations of gain and loss, how- 
 ever, which had characterized the case 
 from the beginning, still continued, not- 
 withstanding the buoyancy of spirits ex- 
 hibited alike by the physicians, the pub- 
 lic, and the patient himself. He had even 
 been allowed to leave his bed for a reclin- 
 ing chair, from which he might have a 
 
 FRANCKLVS COTTAGE, HUH.K' >x. >'. J. 
 
 until he arrived. Two miles were run. by 
 close count, by several watches, in fifty- 
 five seconds, and th*? average run, includ- 
 ing stops, was over fifty-five miles an hour. 
 At the time of arrival the heat was in- 
 tense intense throughout the country, 
 but when this passed, and the fresh sea 
 breeze set in, the president enjoyed it to 
 the utmost, and the benefit to his health 
 seemed so encouraging that the bulletins 
 were diminished in frequency, the mem- 
 bers of the cabinet went off in pursuit of 
 recreation, and the governors of the sev- 
 eral States united in recommending a day 
 of solemn prayer to God for his continued 
 improvement and complete recovery. So 
 marked was the apparent change in his 
 
 window view of the ocean ; the chair was 
 inclined at an angle of a little more than 
 twenty degrees, and the president lay upon 
 it with his head slightly more elevated 
 than it was upon the bed. The change 
 was so refreshing that he asked to have it 
 repeated the following day, which was 
 done. On being placed in the chair and 
 wheeled over to the window, where he 
 could look out upon the ocean, he ex- 
 claimed, " This is good. I like this. I 
 think I ought to have been taken here 
 three weeks ago." The remarkable com- 
 plications of the case continued, however, 
 to assert themselves, none of these being 
 more discouraging, perhaps, than the later 
 rigors and fevers, with the accompanying 
 
718 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 extreme exhaustion and incapacity for 
 food. It was thought, however, that 
 these troubles might be overcome, and no 
 alarm or anxiety was excited beyond what 
 the case had oftentimes created from the 
 first. Things thus continued until the 
 nineteenth of September, the night, as it 
 happened, when his old companion in arms, 
 General Swaim, was to watch with him. 
 He had been with the sufferer a good deal 
 of the time from three o'clock in the after- 
 noon. A few minutes before ten o'clock 
 in the evening, he left Col. Rockwell, with 
 whom he had been talking for some min- 
 
 utes in the lower hall, and proceeded up- 
 stairs to the president's room. On enter- 
 ing, Gen. Swaim found Mrs. Garfield 
 sitting by the bedside. There were no 
 other persons in the room. He said to 
 her, " How is everything going ? " She 
 replied, " He is sleeping nicely." He 
 then said, " I think you would better go 
 to bed and rest," and asked her what had 
 been prescribed for him to take during the 
 night. She replied that she did not know ; 
 that she had given him milk punch at 
 eight o'clock. The general then said, 
 " If you will wait a moment, I will go 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PEESIDENT GAEFIELD. 
 
 719 
 
 into the doctor's room, and see what is to 
 be given during the night." 
 
 " There is," Mrs. Garfield replied, " beef 
 tea down stairs. Daniel knows where to 
 get it." 
 
 "I then went," General Swaim relates, 
 "into the doctor's room. I found Dr. 
 Bliss there, and asked him what was to be 
 given during the night. He answered, 'I 
 think I would better fix up a list, and will 
 bring it in to you pretty soon.' I then 
 went back into the sick room, and had 
 some little conversation with Mrs. Garfield. 
 She felt the president's hand, and laid her 
 hand on his forehead, saying, ' He seems 
 to be in good condition,' and passed out 
 of the room. I immediately felt his hands, 
 feet and knees. I thought that his knees 
 seemed somewhat coM, and got a flannel 
 cloth, heated it at the fire, and laid it over 
 his limbs. I also heated another cloth, and 
 laid it over his right hand, and then sat 
 down in a chair beside his bed. I was 
 scarcely seated, when Dr. Boynton came in 
 and felt the president's pulse. I asked 
 him how it seemed to him. ' It is not as 
 strong as it was this afternoon, but very 
 good.' I said, ' He seems to be doing 
 well.' ' Yes,' he answered, and passed 
 out. He was not in the room more than 
 two minutes. Shortly after this, the pres- 
 ident awoke. As he turned his head on 
 awaking, I rose, and took hold of his 
 hand. I was on the left hand side of the 
 bed, as he la} 7 . I remarked, ' You have 
 had a very comfortable sleep.' He said, 
 'Oh, Swaim; this terrible pain,' placing 
 his right hand on his breast, over the region 
 of the heart. I asked him if I could do 
 anything for him. He said, ' Some water.' 
 I went to the other side of the room, and 
 poured out about an ounce and a half of 
 Poland water into a glass, and gave him to 
 drink ; he took the glass in his hand, I 
 raising his head as usual, and he drank the 
 water very naturally. I then handed the 
 glass to the colored man, Daniel, who 
 came in during the time I was getting the 
 water. Afterward I took a napkin, and 
 wiped his forehead, as he usually perspired 
 on awaking. He then said, ' Oh, Swaim, 
 
 this terrible pain ! Press your hand on 
 it.' I laid my hand on his chest. He 
 then threw both hands up to the side and 
 about on a line with his head, and ex- 
 claimed, ' Oh, Swaim, can't you stop this ? ' 
 and again, ' Oh, Swaim ! ' ' 
 
 It was at this stage, says General Swaim, 
 that the president looked at him with a 
 staring expression. "I asked him if he 
 was suffering much pain. Receiving no 
 answer, I repeated the question, with like 
 result. I then concluded that he was 
 either dying or was having a severe spasm, 
 and called to Daniel, who was at the door, 
 to tell Dr. Bliss and Mrs. Garfield to come 
 in immediately, and glanced at the small 
 clock hanging on the chandelier nearly 
 over the foot of his bed, and saw that it 
 was ten minutes after ten o'clock. Dr. 
 Bliss came in within two or three minutes. 
 I told Daniel to bring the light a 
 lighted candle behind a screen near the 
 door. When the light shone full on his 
 face, I f-aw that he was dying. When Dr, 
 Bliss came in a moment after, I said, 'Doc- 
 tor, have you any stimulant he seems to 
 be dying.' He took hold of his wrist, as 
 if feeling for the pulse, and said, ' Yes, he 
 is dying! ' I then said to Daniel, ' Run, 
 and arouse the house.' At that moment, 
 Colonel Rockwell came in, when Dr. Bliss 
 said, 'Let us rub his limbs,' which we 
 did. 
 
 In a very few moments, Mrs. Garfield 
 came in, and said, ' What does this mean ? ' 
 and a moment after exclaimed, ' Oh, why 
 ami made to suffer this cruel wrong ! ' At 
 half-past ten, in the evening, he breathed 
 his last, calmly and peacefully." 
 
 At the final moment, the following per- 
 sons were present: Mrs. Garfield and 
 her daughter Mollie, Drs. Bliss, Agnew. 
 and Boynton, General Swaim, Colonel and 
 Mrs. Rockwell, J. Stanley Brown, C. 0. 
 Rockwell, and Daniel Spriggs. Dr. Bliss 
 acknowledged that the president's death 
 was a complete surprise to him. Before leav- 
 ing his patient, to write out the directions 
 of the night, for the watchers, the doctor 
 inquired of the president how he felt, and 
 the reply was in his usual cheerful tone, 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GAKFIELD. 
 
 721 
 
 "Pretty well." On reaching the room, 
 after General Swaim's summons, Dr. Bliss 
 found the president unconscious ; he placed 
 his ear over the region of the heart and 
 could only detect a faint flutter, pulse he 
 had none. Some hypodermic injections of 
 brandy were given in the region of the 
 heart, but without effect. He was tying 
 on his back, with his head thrown back- 
 wards, and there was not a tremor or move- 
 ment of the body. 
 
 The effort with which Mrs. Garfield 
 controlled her feelings was seen in the 
 fixed lines of the face, as she arose and 
 went from the room. At the door of her 
 chamber, she broke quite down for the 
 first time ; she sobbed aloud, and in her 
 first burst of grief shut herself alone in 
 her chamber. She remained thus alone, 
 for perhaps three minutes, and what new 
 strength she got in brief communion with 
 God, was seen in her brave and resolute 
 face, as she came back to the bed where 
 her dead husband lay. The doctors, with 
 womanly gentleness, had closed the eye- 
 lids and composed the limbs. Mrs. Gar- 
 field sat down by the bed. There she re- 
 mained several hours. 
 
 The tidings of the president's death fell 
 like a pall on the land, and, in sympathy 
 and grief, the whole world was kin. Rulers 
 and governments from the farthermost 
 parts of the earth made haste to send 
 messages of profoundest sorrow. A sam- 
 ple of this tender friendship, as it flowed 
 in upon the stricken republic from distant 
 realms, was the following from Queen 
 Victoria : " Would you express my sincere 
 condolence to the late president's mother 
 and inquire after her health, as well as af- 
 ter Mrs. Garfield's. I should be thankful if 
 you would procure me a good photograph 
 of General Garfield." The bells of the 
 English cathedrals were tolled, the Eng- 
 lish court went into mourning, and the 
 Queen directed that a floral wreath be pre- 
 pared as an offering from her own hands 
 for the funeral bier. Throughout our own 
 country, business was suspended; the courts 
 adjourned ; the theaters were closed ; the 
 
 public buildings, the dwellings and stores 
 46 
 
 were draped in mourning ; the bells were 
 tolled ; flags hung at half-mast ; lamenta- 
 tion and woe were on every hand. 
 
 On Wednesday following, the remains, 
 of which a careful autopsy had been made, 
 revealing the fact that ' surgery has no 
 resources by which the fatal result could 
 have been averted," were borne out from 
 Francklyn cottage, to begin its last solemn 
 journey. Adorned by a single cross of 
 flowers, the casket was placed in the car 
 prepared for its reception, and, surrounded 
 by a military and naval guard, and accom- 
 panied by the bereaved family and attend- 
 ing friends, the train departed for Wash- 
 ington and Cleveland. The entire route 
 was lined, as it were, by mourners raising 
 their hats and maintaining an awed silence. 
 At Ocean Grove, thousands of people 
 watched it pass, the bells tolling solemnly 
 meanwhile ; at Monmouth Junction, a 
 delegation of students from Princeton 
 College met the train, and, on its reach- 
 ing Princeton Junction, five hundred of 
 the young men stood in files on the sides 
 of the track, which had been strewn 
 with flowers ; at Wilmington, Del., as 
 many as ten thousand paid their tribute 
 of silent respect; and so on, from point to 
 point. 
 
 At Washington four entire days were 
 devoted to grief and funeral rites. Na- 
 tional homage and ceremonial appeared to 
 center here. The great point of interest 
 was the Rotunda of the capitol, where the 
 body lay in state. In the center was placed 
 the catafalque, about three feet above the 
 floer. It is the same one that held the 
 casket encasing the remains of Abraham 
 Lincoln. Its lower platform was covered 
 with perfectly black Brussels carpet, and 
 the trimmings were of heavy black corded 
 silk, silk fringe and tassels, silver moldings, 
 etc. Of the floral decorations of the cata- 
 falque, most noticeable was a broken column 
 of Marshal Neil white roses, about three 
 feet high, surmounted by a white dove 
 with wings outspread ; next came a beaute- 
 ous design, representing the Gates Ajar, 
 the columns being of similar white roses, 
 ' the bars of the gate of variegated white 
 
722 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GAKFIELD. 
 
 UODV LYING IN STATE IX THE CAPITOL HOTl'JfDA. 
 
 ana green, and the gate posts surmounted 
 by globes of immortelles. Next to this 
 was a crown of white rose-buds, the points 
 being tipped with fern. Beyond this was 
 a bank of white flowers, from which sprang 
 a column, and on this perched a white 
 dove; the words, "Our martyred Presi- 
 dent," appeared in green, upon the white 
 bank. At each end of the floral display 
 was a wreath of ivy leaves lying on the 
 floor. But conspicuous above all, was the 
 massive and magnificent wreath, composed 
 of white roses, smilax and stephanotis, 
 the most beautiful ever seen in Washing- 
 
 ton, from the queen of England. The 
 interior of the rotunda was hung in black, 
 I and both rotunda and dome were lustrously 
 illuminated. Tens of thousands thronged 
 the eapitol, day and night, to view the face 
 of the beloved president. This was only 
 interrupted by the announcement of Mrs. 
 Garfield's coming to take her final look 
 of the precious countenance. All sounds 
 were instantly hushed, every one withdrew, 
 and then the stricken widow her slight 
 form wrapped in deepest mourning, and 
 leaving her attendants at the door ad- 
 vanced alone to take her last and tearful 
 farewell look ; and here, in the solitude 
 and sacredne^s of her grief, she remained 
 some fifteen minutes. 
 
 Simple, like the religious services before 
 the departure from Elberon, and in keeping 
 with the Christian simplicity of character 
 which always distinguished Mr. Garfield, 
 were the funeral exercises in the eapitol. 
 Rev Mr. Power, the late president's pastor, 
 officiated. The Philharmonic Society of 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 723 
 
 Washington rendered some impressive 
 selections, including the anthem, " To 
 Thee, O Lord, I yield my Spirit ;" praj-er 
 and eulogy followed ; and the remains 
 were then conducted to the hearse. An 
 immense funeral escort, of surpassing mag- 
 nificence and solemnity, accompanied the 
 funeral car to the train which was to 
 convey the same and the mourning party 
 to Cleveland, the car containing the 
 body being open at the side, so as to 
 admit of the casket being seen along the 
 journey. 
 
 On Saturday morning the train was met 
 at the Ohio state line by the governor and 
 other officials, including the city govern- 
 ment of Cleveland ; in which city, on 
 Monday, Sept. 26th, the mortal part of 
 the dead president was to be consigned to 
 its last resting-place, a day which was 
 also observed, in accordance with appoint- 
 ment by President Arthur and by many 
 of the governors of the States, as a day of 
 humiliation and prayer. The day was 
 indeed one of stillness and worship and 
 funereal observance from one end of the 
 land to the other. Abroad, too, the occa- 
 sion was seriously commemorated. In 
 London, stores were closed and buildings 
 draped ; the fleet of vessels in the Thames 
 displayed its flags at half mast ; the royal 
 palaces indicated bereavemnnt ; portraits 
 of President Garfield hung in black 
 abounded ; funeral dirges were played at 
 St. James' palace ; devotional services were 
 held in Westminster Abbey and other 
 churches j and the tolling of bells was 
 universal. In Paris, Berlin. Geneva, Mad- 
 rid, Constantinople, Cairo, and even in 
 India, there was observance of the day and 
 avent of America's woe. 
 
 The city of Cleveland, Ohio, embraces 
 the beautiful Lake View Cemetery a few 
 miles from the president's former home 
 in which, in accordance with his expressed 
 wish, he was to be buried. Here, a special 
 pavilion was constructed for the reception 
 of the coffin, forty-four feet square at the 
 base, and spanned by arches thirty-six feet 
 high and twenty-four feet wide ; the inte- 
 rior was beautified with rare plants and 
 
 flowers. Here rested the catafalque, stand- 
 ing with its four open arches and sur- 
 mounted by its massive golden ball, with a 
 cannon resting on each of its four corners, 
 heavily draped in black ; large, black flags 
 drooped from each side immediately be- 
 neath the cornice, and still lower fell the 
 national colors, with streamers of crape 
 alternating with the bars of red and white ; 
 an elegant shield, several feet in length, 
 composed of swords, had a conspicuous 
 place on the octagonal faces of the four 
 sides, and, half circling the arches, were 
 choice ferns upon a white background- 
 arranged in triangular shape, also a heavy 
 gold lining running around the pillars, the 
 interior was draped in plain and appropri- 
 ate bands of rich black goods. 
 
 On this memorable Monday, the weather 
 broke calm and delightful, and the great 
 lake, beside which Cleveland rests, lay 
 placid and beautiful. At an early hour the 
 whole city was in motion, everybody mov- 
 ing towards the park, where the procession 
 was to form and the funeral ceremonies 
 take place. Multitudes poured in from 
 every section, and by ten o'clock 200,000 
 people had gathered around the square. 
 At the time appointed, the dignitaries of 
 the government, including every depart- 
 ment, civil and military, marched upon the 
 platform, each wearing a heavy black 
 mourning scarf, with black and white 
 rosettes upon the breast, the whole com- 
 posing the Guard of Honor, headed by 
 General Sherman. 
 
 In due time, the bereaved family were 
 driven to the pavilion. Among the first 
 to alight was the venerable mother of the 
 martyred chieftain, the poor, wasted form 
 of the dear woman being helped from her 
 carriage, and conducted slowly up the in- 
 cline that led to the princely bier upon 
 which rested the form of her idolized son. 
 Unmindful of surrounding objects, and 
 with her whole mind engrossed in grief, 
 she sat down in silence in the seat provided 
 for her ; but her pent-up feelings could not 
 be repressed, and she shortly moved over 
 to the coffin, and, leaning upon it, laid her 
 I cheek upon the cover, her lips moving in 
 
724 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 silent prayer, and the tears coursing adown 
 her wrinkled and weary-worn face. Others 
 wept in sympathy, and she was tenderly 
 led back to her seat. 
 
 Scripture reading, prayers, a eulogj' by 
 Rev. Dr. Errett, and solemn music, made 
 up the funeral ceremonies, one of the 
 hymns sung being the president's favorite, 
 commencing with the words. " Ho, reapers 
 of life's harvest ! " The casket was borne 
 on the shoulders of ten United States ar- 
 tillerymen from the pavilion to the funeral 
 car, and. leaving the park, the grand pro- 
 cession passed out Superior street and 
 Euclid avenue, to the entrance of the cem- 
 etery. The sidewalks were crowded with 
 people, and refreshment* were freely dis- 
 tributed by the citizens to the civil and 
 military visitors. When the head of the 
 column reached the black arch which 
 fronted the cemetery, the ranks 
 opened, and the body of the dead presi- 
 dent, borne upon the funeral car, passe< 
 in between the long ranks of civilians 
 and soldiers. Upon the piers 
 of the arch were, the inscrip- 
 tions "Lay him to sleep 
 whom we have learned to 
 love," " Lay him to sleep 
 whom we have learned to 
 trust," " Come to rest '' 
 
 I The coffin was wrapped in triple fo'ds 
 
 | of fine crape and a huge flag, and those 
 
 specially deputed to walk beside the 
 
 hearse wore white helmets and carried 
 
 drawn swords. The procession was two 
 
 VIEWING THE REMAINS AT rLEVELAN'D, OHIO. 
 
ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 725 
 
 and one-half hours in passing a given 
 point. 
 
 At the receiving vault there was a cata- 
 falque placed in the center, and draped 
 flags were hung at each side At the head 
 was suspended a superb wreath sent to 
 Mrs. Garfield by the ladies of Dubuque, 
 and another sent at the instance of the 
 emperor of Brazil ; the floor was covered 
 with sprays of evergreen, upon which were 
 strewn flowers in great profusion. Out- 
 
 or two later Harry and James got out. 
 Neither Mrs. Garfield nor the president's 
 mother left the carriage, but both of them 
 threw back their veils, and gazed long at 
 the sight within the vault. General Swaim, 
 Colonel Corbin and Colonel Rockwell, and 
 a few others of the close family friends, 
 left their seats, and ex-president Hayes, 
 Mr. Evarts and Secretaries Elaine and 
 Windom, were near the tomb. As the 
 coffin was placed on the catafalque in the 
 
 RECEIVING VAULT. 
 
 side, a carpet had been laid to the carriage 
 way, which was covered with a black can- 
 opy ; this carpet was also strewn with 
 flowers, while around were scattered im- 
 mortelles and other flowers. 
 
 It was about half past three o'clock 
 when the funeral car came down to the 
 south of the vault, and was halted just be- 
 yond it. Mrs. Garfield's carriage stopped 
 just in front of the vault, and a moment 
 
 vault, the marine band played the familiar 
 strains of "Nearer, my God, to Thee." 
 The closing services were then performed, 
 consisting of music by the marine band, 
 an address by Rev. Dr. Jones, chaplain of 
 the president's old regiment, singing by 
 one of the musical societii-s, and benedic- 
 tion by Eev. Dr. Hinsdale. Secretary 
 Blaine and the president's sons entered the 
 vault. Other prominent persons crowded 
 
726 
 
 ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT GATCFIELD. 
 
 LAKE VIEW CEMETERV. 
 
 forward to gather the scattered flowers as 
 mementos, and before the procession left 
 all the flowers beneath the canopy had been 
 secured. The family carriages then started 
 in return, followed by the .other vehicles 
 containing th Cabinet and the Guard of 
 Honor. 
 
 Of the cemetery, it may be said that few 
 locations of the kind surpass this in im- 
 pressive beauty. The driveway from the 
 entrance to the tomb in which President 
 Garfield's remains were deposited, until the 
 erection of the monument, is very broad, 
 and, directly opposite the tomb, the main 
 
 avenue leading to the remotest parts of the 
 grounds begins, crossing soon a lovely lake, 
 on the other side of which the road rises 
 gradually to the crest of a ridge quite 
 elevated above the lake. From this ridge 
 a bald, rounded spur juts out toward the 
 lake, on the right. The top of this spur is 
 irregular shaped, and flat, with a narrow 
 path all around. This is the spot long 
 reserved as the most beautiful in thr whole 
 grounds presented by the trustees of the 
 cemetery to Mrs. Garfield, as the burial 
 place for her husband, and accepted by her 
 for that purpose. 
 
 WREATH PRESENTED BY Ql'KKN VICTORIA. 
 
LXXXV. 
 
 ANARCHY IN THE UNITED STATES IN FULL FORCE, AND 
 
 WITH BLOODY WEAPONS. MEETS ITS DOOM IN 
 
 THE COURTS AND ON THE SCAFFOLD 
 
 IN CHICAGO. 1886-87. 
 
 Anarchy. Its Avowed Principles and Aims. It Struggles Against Law and Order in Chicago, 111., and 
 Milwaukee, Wis., and, for the First Time in the Western World, Tests the Strength of Republican 
 Institutions. Transplanting the Social Disease from Europe to America. Foreign Agitators Seek a 
 Congenial Field in " Freedom's Land." Their Theories, Aims, and Methods. Anti-Government 
 Principles Loudly Proclaimed. Destruction of the State, Church, and Society. Defiance of all Legal 
 Restraint. Red-handed Schemes and Plottings. Dynamite and Violence to be Employed. How and 
 Where the Bombs Were Made. Murderous Appeals to Workingmen. Fatal Scene of Conflict Pre- 
 cipitated. Dynamite Bombs Thrown Into the Police Ranks. Their Heroic Fidelity to Duty. Day 
 and Night of Blood and Terror. Horror and Indignation Throughout the Country. Harvest of 
 Death and Mutilation. Arrest of Some of the Most Noted Leaders Their Conviction After a Two 
 Months' Trial. Incidents Stated by Mr. Reid, a Deputy-Sheriff. Vindication of Law and Justice. 
 Justice of the Sentence Questioned by Some. Life Imprisonment Urged. Executions Amidst a 
 Tumultuous Throng. 
 
 ' AHARCHT: A htute of society where there if no law or supreme power, and individuals do what they please with impunity." WEBSTEB'S 
 
 DlCTZONAKT. 
 
 " Hurrah for Anarchy!" ANARCHIST SHOOT FROM THE SCAFFOLD. 
 
 T is almost unnecessary, perhaps, to say here, that the broad 
 freedom of opinion and of speech as well secured by the 
 constitution of the United States to every citizen thereof, 
 confirmed and guaranteed, too, by the various States of the 
 Union, constitutes a political feature in the American re- 
 public, well nigh unparalleled in the history of nations. 
 Nevertheless, the statutes against lawlessness and violence 
 of public speech, enacted in the interests of the common 
 peace and tranquillity, and which of course give to citizen- 
 ship, in any land, its chief value, have failed at times to 
 control portions of the populace centering in some of the 
 larger cities. In these instances, the defiant element has 
 consisted mainly, though not exclusively, of people native to 
 other countries, and of naturally anti-monarchical politics, 
 widening and degenerating into anti-government theories of 
 the most revolutionary and destructive character in other 
 
 words, ANARCHY transplanted from the old world to the new, and insanely demanding 
 the abrogation of all government, and of all social institutions, as now existing and 
 regulated by law. 
 
728 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 729 
 
 It was iii Chicago, owing, it was flatly 
 charged, to the encouragement afforded 
 by a municipal government notoriously free 
 from all the restraints of a wise adminis- 
 tration, and to the freedom with which 
 criminals of a certain political hue were 
 allowed to escape their just deserts, 
 that the most turbulent and deadly 
 anarchistic, communistic, and socialistic 
 elements had for a long time seethed 
 and plotted, culminating at last in a 
 fruitage and harvest of horrors that 
 shocked the civilized world. It was the 
 legitimate outcome of the teachings of 
 Johann Most, Louise Michel, Rochefort, 
 and other extreme doctrinaires of the 
 modern school of social destructionists. 
 According to these teachings, as promul- 
 gated over and over again, from the ros- 
 trum and through the press, the favoring 
 circumstances by which anarchy was to be 
 realized were thus outlined: "The panic 
 comes, the public are excited, outbreaks 
 occur, the large centers revolt ; and, the 
 places where but few destructionists re- 
 side being thus made points for rallying 
 on the part of the conservative element of 
 society, the work devolving on those of 
 the order who belong to such localities is, 
 by secret methods, and with all the aid of 
 science in destructive warfare, to create 
 sufficient turmoil to keep the conservatives 
 at home. Meanwhile, in the large cen- 
 ters, measures the boldest and most active 
 are to be pursued the revolutionists head- 
 ing, leading, and controlling the outbreak, 
 seizing the places of power, and laying 
 hands on the machinery 'of government. 
 Once installed in control, the decrees carry- 
 ing out the new condition of things are to 
 be promulgated and vigorously enforced." 
 
 Among the most zealous and unscru- 
 pulous propagandists of these theories, 
 in America, Johann Most and August 
 Spies early became conspicuous. The first 
 named, a German by birth, and gifted 
 with a certain fluency of speech, in time 
 deserted labor for politics, and, when 
 about thirty-five years of age, succeeded in 
 being elected a inember of the German 
 Reichstag, or parliament, by the social- 
 
 istic party, then and there so active. 
 While in this position, he distinguished 
 himself by eccentric extravagance, the re- 
 sult of which was, after an exciting con- 
 test, his expulsion from that body. He 
 then removed to London, and established 
 the Freiheit (freedom) newspaper, which 
 was smuggled in large quantities into 
 Germany, and distributed in socialistic 
 quarters. In one of the issues of this 
 sheet, an article rejoicing over the assassi- 
 nation of the Czar of Russia in March, 
 1881, caused his arrest in England, by 
 the English government, although that 
 country had been regarded as a safe field 
 for free speech by Continental assassins. 
 Being found guilty of a crime, he was 
 imprisoned, and, at the expiration of his 
 term, came to the United States, and here 
 advocated, in New York, by speech and 
 pen, the practices of murder and arson. 
 The career of Spies and some of his con- 
 federates will appear further on. 
 
 It was in Chicago, as already remarked, 
 that the most turbulent and deadly anarch- 
 istic, communistic, and socialistic elements 
 had for a long time seethed and plotted; 
 here was to be the field of its most bloody 
 conspiracy and enactments, and here it 
 was to be visited by the stern hand of 
 justice with the weightiest retributive 
 blow. In the early part of May, 1886, 
 some twenty thousand men were idle, in 
 that city, on account of the agitation of 
 the eight-hour labor rule, and, during this 
 period of violent unrest, the anarchists 
 resorted to dynamite, as an argument, for 
 the first time in the United States. 
 
 On the evening of May fourth, a meet- 
 ing of the most excited and tumultuous 
 class was called, by means of an incendiary 
 handbill, at a point in Desplaines street, to 
 listen to speeches about the labor troubles 
 and a fight that had taken place between 
 the police and a company of strikers. 
 The speakers were August Spies, of the 
 daily anarchist paper, the Arbeiter Zei- 
 tung. and his fellows, Sam Fielden and A. 
 R. Parsons, the most notorious preachers 
 of the doctrine of destruction. When 
 Parsons had wrought the crowd to des- 
 
730 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 p iration, aad exclaimed, " To arms ! to 
 arms ! " the force of oue hundred and fifty 
 policemen, who were in readiness at a 
 neighboring station, was ordered out to 
 disperse the excited crowd. When they 
 reached the edge of the crowd, Fielden 
 was raising the passions of the vast throng 
 to the highest pitch. 
 
 And now the officer in command of the 
 police advanced to the wagon which was 
 used as a rostrum, and ordered the crowd 
 to disperse. He had hardly given the 
 word, when a spluttering fuse was seen 
 flying through the air toward the police- 
 men. It was a dynamite bomb, which 
 was well aimed, and fell directly in the 
 middle of the street, between two double 
 columns of the police, exploding as soon 
 as it struck the ground. The policemen 
 were for a moment thrown into confusion. 
 The orator closed his harangue abruptly, 
 and the throng assembled in a menacing 
 attitude before the body of police. The 
 bomb had killed and wounded about thirty 
 men, and the anarchists in front and on 
 either side opened fire directly on the 
 policemen who had escaped the bomb. 
 The men quickly recovered themselves, 
 and returned the fire, until the crowd fled, 
 many persons being knocked down and 
 trampled upon, during the flight. After 
 this, the work of taking away the bodies 
 of the killed, and of removing the wounded, 
 was begun. On the next day, there were 
 scores of patients in the county hospital, 
 who were injured by the bomb or in the 
 battle that followed the explosion. The 
 scenes were heartrending. Fortunately, 
 the discipline and courage of the police 
 prevented a general overthrow of the 
 authorities and the complete capture of 
 the city by outlaws. 
 
 That the municipal officials, or those in 
 high political places, were largely respon- 
 sible for any tragedy that might follow 
 the long existing social antagonisms and 
 public excitement, was unhesitatingly 
 charged, permits having been freely 
 granted with a full knowledge of their 
 legitimate outcome for the Sunday as- 
 sembling of anarchists and their associates 
 
 in the Lake Front Park. Here it was 
 that the most inflammatory appeals were 
 made and reiterated, and the wildest pas- 
 sions of the surging throng stirred to 
 frenzy, and all this under the cognizance 
 of the so called guardians of the public 
 peace. 
 
 For the conception of and participation 
 in this monstrous crime the murders 
 caused by the explosion of the dynamite 
 bomb arrests were forthwith made, in- 
 cluding such notorious men as August 
 Spies, Samuel Fielden, Michael Schwab, 
 Chris Spies, A. R. Parsons, George Engel, 
 Adolph Fischer, 0. W. Neebe, and Louis 
 Lingg. The Arbeiter Zeitung. the organ 
 of the anarchists, was suppressed, and the 
 anarchist haunts in the city were searched. 
 In a cupboard in the office of Spies's paper, 
 the Arbeiter Zeitung, four or five pounds 
 of dynamite were found, of such strength 
 that, when it was exploded at the lake 
 front, it shook the ground several hundred 
 yards away ; in the editorial desk were 
 also found two bombs with fuses attached. 
 
 August Spies, a native of Germany, went 
 to Chicago in his youth, and, though hav- 
 ing but little schooling, was always a stu- 
 dent after his own fashion ; at twenty, he 
 had learned and discarded the trade of sad- 
 dler, and tramped for some time through 
 the West and South ; at twenty -four, he 
 returned to Chicago, assumed the role of a 
 politician, and, as a leader of the socialists, 
 delivered many speeches, and built up that 
 party so that more than ten thousand votes 
 were cast for its mayoralty candidate, Dr. 
 Schmidt. There was no really anarchistic 
 party then, and Spies became manager of 
 the Arbeiter Zeitung, the organ of the 
 socialists, which had a large circulation 
 and much influence with the working- 
 men ; this paper, Spies gradually molded 
 into an anarchistic sheet, and from its 
 type was struck. May 4, 1886, the memor- 
 able circular, " Revenge ! Workinymen, to 
 Arms ! " which was sent broadcast among 
 the socialistic and anarchistic groups in 
 the city. 
 
 Michael Schwab, also a German by birth, 
 was Spies's assistant editor, and at least as 
 
ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 731 
 
 AUGUST SPIES 
 
 CHICAGO AKABCHIST8. 
 
732 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 violent. Born in 1853, he was an orphan 
 at the age of twelve, received good school- 
 ing, learned bookbinding, and plunged into 
 socialism, emigrating to Chicago in 1879. 
 
 Fischer was a compositor and writer on 
 the party's organ, and an ardent anarchist. 
 Born in Bremen, he came to this country 
 at the age of fifteen, learned printing at 
 his brother's office in the West, and be- 
 came a most active worker in the cause. 
 
 Parsons, born at Montgomery, Alabama, 
 in 1848, was brought up in Texas, by his 
 brother, afterward General Parsons, of 
 the Confederate army; he himself enlisted 
 in that army when only thirteen years 
 old, and served through the war, after 
 which he edited a weekly paper in Waco. 
 Removing to Chicago in 1873, he became 
 interested in the labor party, then in 
 1876 was editor of The Socialist, and 
 finally edited The Alarm from 1884 until 
 its suppression in 1886. It was in the 
 columns of this paper that he gave direc- 
 tions for the manufacture of explosives 
 and how to throw bombs, and advocated 
 the destruction of society. He was at one 
 time a scout in Texas, and was a " dead 
 shot." 
 
 Lingg was of German birth, and was 
 not only the youngest member of the 
 fraternity, but had been in America only 
 about a year or so. He had been an 
 ardent anarchist in Europe, and dynamite 
 bombs were found in his room. 
 
 Engel, born in Cassel, Germany, came 
 to America in 1873. His father died 
 when he was less than two years old, and 
 his mother when he was but ten. He 
 became a socialist of the extreme type, 
 and was business manager of Spies's 
 paper. 
 
 Fielden's birthplace was in England, 
 and he was the son of a weaver, he himself 
 working in a cotton mill from his ninth 
 year until he reached his majority. He 
 joined the Wesleyan Methodist Church, 
 and was a Sunday-school superintendent 
 when but eighteen years of age, and after- 
 wards a preacher. He came to America 
 in 1866, lived three years in Cleveland, 
 and moved to Chicago in 1869. 
 
 Within only a day after the fatal riot, 
 nearly thirty thousand dollars had been 
 contributed by citizens of Chicago, and 
 several checks for large amounts were sent 
 from other places, for the benefit of the 
 wounded policemen and of the families of 
 those who were killed. Throughout the 
 whole land, indeed, profound sympathy 
 was expressed for those who were thus 
 made victims of the red-handed anarchists, 
 mingled with admiration of the heroic 
 fidelity to duty which characterized the 
 police force under circumstances so terrible 
 and unexpected, and this state of public 
 feeling became immeasurably intensified 
 when, on the following day, the same 
 struggle, substantially, was enr.cted in 
 Milwaukee, between the Polish labor agi- 
 tators and the militia. The mills, which 
 these socialists had threatened boldly to 
 storm, were guarded by four companies of 
 militia, duly called out by the authorities. 
 The mob, early on the fifth of May, 
 marched with a red flag toward the mills, 
 uttering threats to demolish them. The 
 commanding officer ordered them to retire, 
 but they continued to advance, and the 
 militia fired into the crowd with deadly 
 aim and effect. The flag bearer was struck 
 by several bullets and mortally wounded, 
 several others were killed, and a large 
 number injured. General Rusk, governor 
 of the state, not only employed the mili- 
 tary in the promptest manner, but he gave 
 this answer to a Polish alderman of Mil- 
 waukee, who protested against the killing 
 of his countrymen by the soldiers : 
 
 "You go back, and tell your country- 
 men that we shall insist upon their re- 
 maining quietly at home, or going to 
 work ; and that I will stop their assem- 
 bling in crowds for purposes of riot, if I 
 have to call every able-bodied man in the 
 state into military service to do it." 
 
 In pursuance of an indictment by the 
 grand jury of Cook county, Illinois, against 
 the Chicago anarchists, their trial for mur- 
 der took place in that city, commencing 
 June 21st, the eight persons previously 
 named Neebe, Spies, Fischer, Engel, 
 Parsons, Fielden, Schwab, and Lingg 
 
ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 733 
 
 being arraigned on that higli charge, the 
 trial lasting many weeks. Though the 
 man who actually threw the bomb failed 
 to be legally identified, the theory of the 
 prosecution made the attack on the police 
 part of a conspiracy formed the night be- 
 fore, the appeal, " Workingmen, arm your- 
 selves, and appear in full force," showing 
 the murderous purpose ; evidence of what 
 had been said, of like tenor, in the anar- 
 chist newspapers with which the accused 
 had been connected, or in their public 
 speeches in favor of exterminating the 
 police, was urged against them 
 
 Among the witnesses for the prosecu- 
 tion was a well known anarchist, who, 
 turning state's evidence, declared that he 
 had belonged to an armed body of anarch- 
 ists, and described in detail the prepara- 
 tions that had been made by the leaders 
 the defendants on trial for the capture of 
 the city, the disabling of the fire depart- 
 ment, as well as the police, being contem- 
 plated ; at one meeting, it was decided 
 that they would kill everybody that 
 opposed them it being also proposed, at 
 the same meeting, that anarchists should 
 mingle with the crowds in the streets of 
 the city, and kill everybody, right and 
 left, thus inaugurating, through terror and 
 blood, the supremacy of anarchy. This 
 evidence was scarcely sustained. 
 
 An entire day in this trial was devoted 
 to the testimony of William Seliger, car- 
 penter, in whose house dynamite bombs 
 were manufactured under the supervision 
 of Louis Lingg. This witness was an 
 anarchist, a member of the socialist order, 
 and recording secretary of the Carpenter's 
 Union. His revelations were startling to 
 every one, and the anxiety of the prison- 
 ers was plainly depicted in their faces. 
 Seliger's statement was to the effect that 
 on the fourth of May he was up early, and 
 had previously told Lingg he wanted those 
 bombs removed from his dwelling, being 
 told in reply to work diligently at them, 
 and that they would be taken away that 
 day. Witness worked at some bad shells, 
 drilling the holes, a job of about half an 
 hour, Lingg returning from a meeting on 
 
 the West Side about one o'clock, and tell- 
 ing witness he did not work very much, 
 that he ought to have done more, to 
 which reply was made that there was no 
 pleasure in such work. Lingg said, "We 
 will have to work harder this afternoon," 
 and told him to go to a place on Clyborne 
 avenue, to get some bolts to put into the 
 shells ; he got about fifty bolts, and dur- 
 ing the afternoon several men worked 
 with him, Lingg himself working on gas 
 pipes, putting in tubes, and about forty 
 bombs were made in all. As exhibited to 
 the court, these were wrought iron tubes, 
 about two inches in diameter and six 
 inches long. Lingg cast the round bombs 
 once, alone, in the rear room of witness's 
 store, some six weeks before May first, 
 Lingg remarking that every workingman 
 should have dynamite and learn to use 
 it that there was going to be an " agita- 
 tion," that the bombs would be good 
 "fodder" for the capitalists and for the 
 police who might undertake to protect 
 them, that the bombs ought to be com- 
 pleted that evening, as they were to be 
 used that night. 
 
 On the above witness leaving the house, 
 in the evening, Lingg accompanied him, 
 and they carried a little trunk containing 
 the bombs, these being all loaded with 
 dynamite and having caps fixed on them. 
 While they were carrying them, they met 
 one Metzenberg, and the three conveyed 
 the trunk to Neff's Hall, Clyborne ave- 
 nue, being taken in through a side door 
 and into a hallway ; the trunk was opened, 
 several persons coming to look at the con- 
 tents, and two or three taking bombs, 
 witness himself putting two into his pock- 
 ets, and the rest were left in the passage- 
 way. This hall was called the " shanty " 
 of the communists, anarchists, and social- 
 ists, all used to meet there. Bancroft Librar f 
 
 On leaving Neff's, Lingg and two others 
 were with him, and were afterward joined 
 by two more ; all had bombs, and addi- 
 tional testimony went to show that the 
 bombs were used at the fatal attack upon 
 the police, during the open-air meeting of 
 the anarchists, called, ostensibly, to de- 
 
 L_ 
 
734 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 nounce "the latest act of the police," in 
 dispersing the crowd of strikers about the 
 McCormick reaper works. The effect of 
 this evidence, in the court room, was ex- 
 tremely startling, furnishing, as it did, an 
 inside view of the ways and means so 
 often resorted to by nihilists in the old 
 world, but unfamiliar in the new, and, of 
 course, by no means indorsed or approved 
 by all. 
 
 But. though the evidence against the 
 anarchists, as being guilty of the crime 
 charged, namely, that of advising, or en- 
 couraging, aiding, or abetting murderous 
 acts, was overwhelming, they were ably 
 defended and their interests vigilantly 
 guarded, by the most eminent counsel, 
 and every facility afforded for the estab- 
 lishment of their innocence, if such were 
 capable of proof. Weeks were occupied in 
 this way, and the public treasury as freely 
 drawn upon to this end as for the prosecu- 
 tion. The presiding judge, too, Gary, was 
 acknowledged to possess, and to have ex- 
 hibited, in the highest degree, the legal 
 learning, impartiality, and patience re- 
 quired by the occasion. 
 
 It was urged, in their behalf, that the 
 actual thrower of the bomb not being 
 known or identified, no criminal connec- 
 tion therefore could be established be- 
 tween the speeches and writings and plans 
 of the anarchists and the fatal act in ques 
 t'on, and that consequently the prisoners 
 were really on trial for their opinions. 
 As against this theory, or claim, it was 
 urged that the anarchists' meetings, the 
 proclaimed justification of force, the appeal 
 to force, the manufacture of the bombs for 
 a positive purpose, the call to arms after 
 the riot at McCormick's, the determina- 
 tion to resist the police as myrmidons of 
 tyrannical and bloody capital, the final 
 meeting and its harangues, the approach 
 of the police, and the catastrophe, were 
 all steps toward the deadly crime; that 
 anarchy contemplates and avows a forcible 
 subversion of society, which must begin, if 
 at all, in the very way that was adopted in 
 Chicago ; that the man who in every way 
 incites revolution is responsible when that 
 
 revolution begins, and amenable for its 
 consequences. 
 
 The result of this long and exciting 
 trial was arrived at just two months after 
 its commencement, and the intensity of 
 interest on the morning of the jury com- 
 ing into court, with their verdict, was 
 almost tragical. At eight o'clock, thou- 
 sands of persons were in the streets in 
 and around the court house. Judge Gary 
 took his seat upon the bench, and the 
 prisoners were brought in. all of whom 
 wore their usual appearance though Spies 
 and Fischer looked deathly pale. Impress- 
 ive silence prevailed as the jury filed in, 
 and the following verdict was rendered : 
 
 "We, the jury, find the defendants, Au 
 gust Spies, Samuel Fielden, Albert R. 
 Parsons, Adolph Fischer, George Engel, 
 Michael Schwab, and Louis Lingg, guilty 
 of murder, as charged in the indictment, 
 and fix the penalty at death ; we find the 
 defendant, Oscar W. Neebe, guilty of 
 murder, in manner and form as charged 
 in the indictment, and fix the penalty 
 at imprisonment in the penitentiary for 
 fifteen years." 
 
 The defendants' counsel asked that the 
 jury be polled, and each answered with a 
 firm voice. The same counsel then de- 
 sired to make a motion for a new trial ; 
 the state's attorney, however, declared that 
 it would be impossible to dispose of the 
 motion during that term, but it could 
 be argued at the September term, and 
 this was mutually agreed to. The court 
 ordered the motion entered and continued 
 until the next term, and the defendants 
 taken bick to jail. Judge Gary then 
 arose and addressed the jury as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury : You have 
 finished this long and very arduous trial, 
 which has required a very considerable 
 sacrifice of time and some hardship. I 
 hope that everything has been done that 
 could possibly be done, to make those 
 sacrifices and hardships as mild as might 
 be permitted. It does not become me to 
 say anything in regard to the case that 
 i you have tried, or the verdict you have 
 
ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 735 
 
 rendered ; but men compuisorily serving 
 as jurors, as you have done, deserve some 
 recognition of the service you have per- 
 formed, beside the meager compensation 
 you have received." 
 
 The foreman of the jury replied : "The 
 jury have deputed to me the only agree- 
 able duty that it is our province to per- 
 form, and that is to thank the court and 
 the counsel for the defense and for the 
 prosecution, for your kindly care to make 
 us as comfortable as possible during our 
 confinement. We thank you." 
 
 Ou the case being taken before the 
 whole bench of the supreme court of 
 Illinois, on law points, and, after most 
 extended argument and consideration, it 
 was decided adversely to the condemned 
 men. Failing of a reversal by the appel- 
 late court of the State, an attempt was 
 made to have the case reviewed by the 
 United States supreme court, but that 
 tribunal decided that it had no jurisdiction. 
 And no\v, petitions innumerable, for and 
 against the exercise of executive clemency, 
 poured in upon Governor Oglesby, and the 
 people of Chicago were wrought up to 
 a high state of excitement. Fielden, 
 Schwab, and Spies petitioned for execu- 
 tive clemency, and the two former asked, 
 in addition, for a commutation of their 
 sentence; but this last Spies declined to 
 do. Accordingly, Gov. Oglesby commuted 
 the sentences of Fielden and Schwab to im- 
 prisonment for life ; his reason, as given, 
 for not interfering in the case of Parsons, 
 Lingg, Engel, and Fischer being that they 
 were guilty and had put in no plea for 
 mercy as guilty men, but had demanded 
 freedom as innocent men and in the case 
 of Spies, editor of the anarchist news- 
 paper at the time of the terrible riot, the 
 governor did not feel justified in inter- 
 fering. 
 
 The day of doom approached. But this 
 was anticipated a day in advance, by Louis 
 Lingg, who exploded in his mouth a large 
 dynamite cap, concealed in a candle that 
 is, tallow all around it. How he obtained 
 it was us little apparent as how he had 
 received four others found in his cell a 
 
 few days previous. His head, face, and 
 throat were horribly torn, and, after six 
 hours, death relieved him of his terrible 
 agonies. 
 
 The condemned men spent their last 
 night on eartli strongly guarded. Some 
 slept, others talked with the guards or 
 wrote letters. Spies slept as peacefully 
 as an infant on its mother's bosom ; Fischer 
 lay on his back and snored loudly; and all 
 slept late. Outside the jail, several hun- 
 dred policemen and soldiers guarded it and 
 its surroundings, no one being permitted 
 to enter or leave. Spies refused to allow 
 a clergyman to offer up a prayer in his 
 behalf. Breakfast was served in the jail 
 early, the condemned eating heartily, 
 though Spies, feeling unwell, was served 
 with a very little brandy. While all was 
 hushed to a whisper, in view of the near 
 approach of the fateful hour, and only the 
 tread of the armed sentries could be heard, 
 the voice of a man rose in song. He be- 
 gan in low, fine tones, the voice gradually 
 rising higher and higher each note clear 
 the tone full and steady. It startled 
 those in the jail, guards and reporters 
 going forward to the cell from which it 
 came, and, when two lines or more had 
 been sung, a guard whispered, ' It's Par- 
 sons ! " He was standing at the door of 
 his cell, just outside, against the jamb, 
 with his head up and shoulders thrown 
 back, singing as if he were a lark in the 
 meadows, instead of a man upon whom the 
 death cap was so soon to be placed. It 
 was a strange song, too, for the time and 
 place : 
 
 " Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, when early fa's the 
 
 dew; 
 
 It was there that Annie Laurie gave me her promise 
 true! 
 
 Gave me her promise true 
 Gave me her last adieu. 
 
 And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doon and 
 dee." 
 
 It was a soft, pure voice, and seemed to 
 come from the happiest man in the world ; 
 but when Parsons saw the guards and re- 
 porters approaching nearer, a scowl passed 
 over his face, though his voice showed no 
 wavering. As the song died away, the 
 guards fell back, Mrs. Pitroons was at 
 
736 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 the jail door, pleading for admission to 
 her husband, which, however, wa< refused, 
 and, as she rebelled, the officers placed 
 her in custody, and all was quiet again, 
 the sheriff and his men moving about 
 noiselessly. All was eager expectancy ; 
 everybody was waiting for the last mo- 
 ment not a sound but the muffled tread 
 of the armed guard and the tick, tick, 
 tick, tick of the telegraph instrument. 
 The hour of death drew nigh. Spies was 
 writing, Parsons standing sullenly in a 
 corner with his hands in his trousers' 
 pockets, all were waiting for the moment 
 when the sheriff should lead the way to 
 the gallows 
 
 At ten o'clock, after the condemned 
 men had partaken of some wine or brandy, 
 Fischer relieved the mental strain upon 
 himself and his associates by singing the 
 Marseillaise hymn; the others joined him, 
 but their voices, though loud, were orderly 
 and restrained. At about eleven o'clock, 
 from twD to three hundred newspaper 
 men, local officials, and others, among 
 them the twelve jurors who were to view 
 the bodies after execution, passed through 
 the passage under the gallows, and began 
 seating themselves. At a quarter past 
 eleven, luncheon was served to the con- 
 demned men. and at half-past eleven the 
 reading of the death warrants began, the 
 sheriff taking Spies first. It was in a 
 space in front of the gallows that the 
 spectators were gathered, the bare white- 
 washed walls making a striking contrast 
 with the dark brown gallows, with its four 
 long, noosed rop >s ; a gleam of sunshine, 
 shooting suddenly through the window, 
 fell on a corner of the scaffold, in a slight 
 degree relieving its somber hue, and 
 through this window were also visible a 
 number of policemen, armed with rifles, 
 looking down from the roof of the Dear- 
 born street wing on the proceedings. The 
 chief bailiff called out the names of the 
 persons summoned as jurors, and brought 
 them forward to a row of little stools 
 directly in front of the gallows. No other 
 sounds were heard in the long, high corri- 
 dor, but the solemn, monotonous voice of 
 
 the bailiff, and the rustling of the jurors, 
 as they softly passed through the crowd. 
 The clergyman in attendance was Rev. 
 Dr. Bolton, of the First Methodist Episco- 
 pal Church, Chicago a devoted Christian. 
 
 Then the death march began. 
 
 It lacked but a few minutes of noon, 
 when a single white shrouded figure, above 
 which was a face of yellowish pallor, the 
 face of August Spies, passed the first post 
 of the scaffold, and the gaping crowd, ten 
 feet below, half rose from their seats, at 
 the first glimpse of the apparition. Spies 
 looked calm, and glanced at the reporters 
 with his characteristic knowing smile; he 
 walked firmly over the drop, guided by the 
 grasp of a deputy, to the furthest edge of 
 the gallows. Following close walked Fis- 
 cher, close enough to touch Spies's shroud, 
 had not his hands been pinioned under the 
 white muslin ; the countenance of Fischer 
 had a peculiar glisten, unlike the ashiness 
 of Engel's heavy features, and in strange 
 contrast with the dead lack of color in the 
 pinched lineaments of Parsons, that once 
 jaunty, vivacious Texan 
 
 And now the jailer adjusted the nooses, 
 an operation of seemingly excessive tedious- 
 ness, though occupying but five or six min- 
 utes. Engel turned around and smiled a 
 good-bye to the sheriff and his deputy. 
 The cups were placed over their heads, 
 and, a few moments before twelve, the 
 drop fell. An instant later, the doomed 
 men were swinging in mid-air The last 
 words uttered by Spies were, " There will 
 come a time when our silence will be more 
 powerful than the voices they are strang- 
 ling to death now." Engel shouted, "Hur- 
 rah for Anarchy!" Fischer also saying, 
 "Hurrah for Anarchy this is the hap- 
 piest moment of my life ! " Parsons said, 
 ' May I be allowed to speak ? Will you 
 let me speak, Sheriff Matson ? Let the 
 voice of the people be heard ! " Among 
 the last words uttered by Spies were 
 these: " My silence is more ominous than 
 any words that I can utter." 
 
 The law was vindicated, and its course 
 ended. Fischer and Spies died hard, and 
 Parsons struggled fearfully, and the pulse 
 
ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 737 
 
 of the last stopped beating in thirteen and 
 one half minutes; each one died of strangu- 
 lation, none having his neck broken. On 
 the coffins being brought to the scaffold, 
 Sheriff Matson exclaimed. ' His will be 
 done." The bodies were lowered in the 
 following order: Spies, Fischer, Engel, 
 Parsons ; all looking natural. Thu coffin 
 lids were quickly screwed down, paper 
 tabs being pasted on each for identifica- 
 tion. Engel's and Lingg's remains were 
 conveyed to a house on Milwaukee ave- 
 nue ; Fischer's wife claimed his ; Spies's 
 mother took his, and Mrs. Parsons re- 
 ceived those of her husband. 
 
 It may be remarked, finally, that, in 
 view of the aggressive and dangerous 
 character of anarchism, its principles and 
 leaders, the utmost precaution was exer- 
 cised by the state and city authorities 
 against any revolutionary demonstrations, 
 threats having been made, indefinitely, to 
 this end by various parties, including 
 such violent agitators as Most, and his 
 colleagues, in New York, and by the 
 avowed anarchists in St. Louis and other 
 cities. Orders were given to have all the 
 approaches to the jail most amply guarded 
 against intrusion, and to restrict admis- 
 sion of visitors to the other inmates of the 
 jail, and increased vigilance enjoined upon 
 all the officials against any possible con- 
 tingency. The extra companies of police 
 were also armed with rifles, bayonets, and 
 revolvers. All of the houses in the vicin- 
 ity of the jail had been inspected, and a 
 record of the inhabitants obtained. Every- 
 thing, however, was kept under complete 
 control, though, at times, portions of the 
 crowd were somewhat tumultuous. 
 
 That the misguided men who thus paid 
 the penalty of their lives in behalf of what 
 they believed to be "the rights of man 
 and the wrongs of society " were devoid of 
 the personal affections common to men of 
 other beliefs, political or religious, would 
 not appear to be the case, judging from 
 the testimony borne by those who were 
 more or less in contact with them. Most 
 of them appeared to be possessed of more 
 than the average intelligence, some of 
 
 them indeed being highly educated, and, 
 on various occasions, their gentleness of 
 manner was the subject of remark by the 
 jail guards and others. Of Spies, it has 
 been stated by deputy sheriff John W. 
 Reid, a conscientious and gentlemanly 
 official, who had him in personal charge 
 for some time prior to the execution, that, 
 throughout the ordeal, he showed a moral 
 heroism and manly nerve most remarka- 
 ble, only a half hour before the final mo- 
 ment, conversing with composed mind and 
 steady nerve on moral and philosophical 
 topics, and on what he called his mission, 
 also on what he believed would result from 
 his and his companions' death. These and 
 similar remembrances of that tragical hour 
 were communicated by Mr. Reid, and are 
 therefore entirely trustworthy. He also 
 stated, that the reason given by Spies for 
 declining religious advice, in his last 
 hours, was simply because his own belief 
 afforded him all needed consolation for 
 the occasion. 
 
 The commutation of the death sentence, 
 in these cases, to life imprisonment, was 
 urged by many in the community, as a 
 sufficient atonement for the past and secu- 
 rity for the future. This opinion was held 
 by not a few, even of the more conserva- 
 tive class in Chicago and elsewhere. The 
 ground upon which executive clemency 
 was thus believed by so many to be rea- 
 sonable and desirable was, that, being 
 imbued with ideas which germinate in 
 countries where the legitimate freedom 
 of speech and action is sternly repressed, 
 they were not fully conscious of the moral 
 criminality of their action, and that the 
 main purpose of their punishment the 
 prevention of such crimes in future 
 would therefore be as well, if not better, 
 served, by such commutation. On the 
 other hand, the petitions against executive 
 clemency were well nigh innumerable, as 
 well as powerful, and, as proved, irresistible. 
 
 As a matter of right, it was maintained 
 by Mr. Henry George whose views on 
 all these questions could not be regarded 
 as deficient in liberalism there was no 
 ground for leniency. He declared, in his 
 
738 
 
 ANARCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
 journal, that an unlawful and murderous 
 deed was committed, the penalty of which 
 by the laws of the state of Illinois was 
 death; that eight men were tried on the 
 charge of being accessory to the crime, 
 and after a long trial were convicted ; the 
 case was appealed to the supreme court of 
 Illinois, and that body, composed of seven 
 judges, removed, both in time and place, 
 from the excitement which may have been 
 supposed to have affected public opinion in 
 Chicago during the first trial, did, after an 
 elaborate examination of the evidence and 
 the law, unanimously confirm the sentence ; 
 
 that seven judges, therefore, of the highest 
 court of Illinois, men accustomed to weigh 
 evidence and to pass upon judicial rulings, 
 should, after such full examination of the 
 testimony and the record, and with the 
 responsibility of life and death resting 
 upon them, unanimously sustain the ver- 
 dict and the sentence, is inconsistent with 
 the idea that the Chicago anarchists were 
 condemned on insufficient evidence. Not, 
 therefore, as a matter of right, but of 
 humanity and a considerate public policy, 
 Mr. George, with many others, urged the 
 act of commutation. 
 
ANAKCHIST TRIALS AND EXECUTIONS. 
 
INDEX 
 
 A. 
 
 ACCIDENTAL discovery of gold in California, 364. 
 of the microphone by Edison, 687. 
 
 ACCOMPLICES of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of 
 Pros. Lincoln, the trials and fates of the, 627. 
 
 ACHIEVEMENTS of Admiral Farragut, 589. 
 
 ACKNOWLEDGMENT of the independence of the United 
 States by foreign powers, 31. 
 
 ADAMS, John, speech of, upon tlie declaration of inde- 
 pendence, 26. 
 
 his nomination of Washington as commander, 64. 
 
 appointment of, first minister to England, 70. 
 
 audience with George III, his account of his, 74. 
 
 his eloquent presentation of the American cause, 75. 
 
 result of the embassy to England of, 75. 
 
 John Quincy, his struggle for the right of petition 
 In congress, 252. 
 
 his death in the national capital, 262. 
 
 ADMIRAL FAHRAGUT'S achievements at New Orleans 
 in 1862, 590. 
 
 his gallant action in Mobile bay, 592. 
 
 ADOPTION of the federal constitution by the states, 83. 
 ADVEXT, Second, the excitement of 1843, as to the, 307. 
 ADVENTURES of Fremont in the Rocky Mountains, 286. 
 ADVOCACY of the Union cause in England, Henry 
 
 Ward Beecher's, 573. 
 AFTER the battle of Antietam, appalling sights, 540. 
 
 the earthquake, scene, 156. 
 
 AGRICULTURAL Hall, at the centennial exhibition, 695. 
 ALABAMA, the combat of the, with the Kearsarge, 581. 
 ALARM, caused by the total solar eclipse, 135. 
 
 by the mysterious dark day of 1780, 4fl. 
 
 ALEXANDER, Czar of Kussia, the centennial gratula- 
 
 tions of, 705. 
 ALBERT Edward, Prince of Wales, tour in the United 
 
 States of, 493. 
 
 ALONG the Jordan, wild and impressive scenery, 356. 
 AMBASSADOR, John Adams, the first from the United 
 
 States to England, 70. 
 AMBASSADORS, the Japanese, 491. 
 AMENDMENT, fifteenth constitutional, ratification of, 
 
 by the states, 552. 
 AMERICA, matched with England on Lake Erie, 163. 
 
 the yacht, the international race won by, 403. 
 
 first embassy from the Orient to a foreign power 
 sent to, 486. 
 
 the bloodiest day in the history of, 53!>. 
 
 free popular education, the progress of in, 667. 
 AMERICAN defenses at New Orleans, 171. 
 
 forces, junction of the, with the French at York- 
 town, 56. 
 
 independence, declaration of, 25. 
 AMITV, between England and America, 70. 
 ANDERSON, Gen., his defense of Fort Sumter, 501. 
 
 restoration of the U. S., flag to Fort Sumter by, 615. 
 
 John, Major Andre's capture under the name of, 49. 
 ANDRE, Major, the British spy, manner and incidents 
 
 of the capture of, 49, 50. 
 its Intrigue with Benedict Arnold, 49. 
 
 ANECDOTES, relating to the selection of the location of 
 
 the national capital, 114. 
 ANNAPOLIS, Washington's resignation of his commis. 
 
 sion to congress at, 68. 
 ANNIVERSARY of the birth of the republic, celebration 
 
 of the one hundredth, 689. 
 ANTIETAM, the battle of, 535. 
 APOSTLES, Mormon, their proselyting in Europe, 219. 
 
 of Temperance, the famous, 277. 
 APOSTROPHE, Webster's eloquent, to the Union, 211. 
 APPALLING catastrophe, on board the Princeton, 315. 
 APPEAL for life, to Gibbs, the pirate, by a girl, 222. 
 APPEARANCE of the great comet of 1843, 305. 
 
 of Jenny Liud at Castle Garden, 392. 
 APPLICATION of Lafayette to enter the American 
 
 army, 188. 
 
 APPOMATOX, the momentous occurrence at, 612. 
 APRIL 14, 1865, the bereavement of the nation on, 617. 
 ARCHBISHOP MeCloskey, consecration of, as the first 
 
 American cardinal, 675. 
 ARCHIVES, the removal of the national, to Washing 
 
 ton, 116. 
 ARCTIC, the Collins steamer, loss of the, at sea by col 
 
 lisiou at noonday with the Vesta, 429. 
 ARMY, Washington assuming command of the, 64. 
 
 the farewell address of Washington to the, 67. 
 ARNOLD, Benedict, early career and character of, 48. 
 
 account of the treason of, 48. 
 
 plot of, to deliver West Point to the British, 49. 
 
 frustration of the plot of, 50. 
 
 escape from arrest of, 52. 
 
 reward and punishment of, 54. 
 
 ARREST, of Aaron Burr, dramatic scene at the, 147. 
 
 Prof. Webster's, for murder of Dr. Parkman, 378. 
 
 of Booth, the assassin of President Lincoln, 625. 
 ARRIVAL, of Lafayette in New York, scene at the, 191. 
 
 of Kossuth in New York, scene at the, 416. 
 
 of the Great Eastern with the Atlantic cable, 635. 
 ARTIFICIAL light, wonderful revolution in, 484. 
 ASHMUN, Hon. George, of Springfield, Mass., last inter- 
 view of Lincoln with, 618. 
 
 ASIATIC cholera, its visitations upon America, 369. 
 ASSASSINATION, attempted, of President Jackson, 236. 
 
 of President Lincoln, by John Wilkes Booth, 617, 
 scene in Ford's Theater at the, 620. 
 
 ASSAULT upon Hon. Chas. Sumuer in the U. S. Senate 
 chamber by Preston S. Brooks, 437. 
 
 scene at the, 443. 
 
 ASTONISHING feats of horse taming by Prof . Earey, 509. 
 ASSUMING command of the army, Washington, at Cam- 
 bridge, 65. 
 
 at Vicksburg, Gen. Grant, 555. 
 ATLANTA, Ga., Gen. Sherman at, 599. 
 ATLANTIC telegraphic cable, the several attempts and 
 failures in laying the, 630. 
 
 the successful laying of the, 632. 
 
 the first message transmitted through the, 634- 
 
 ATMOSPHERICAL phenomena, during the "dark day" 
 
 of 1780, 42. 
 ATTEMPTED assassination of President Jacksen, 238. 
 
742 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ATZERODT, the trial and execution of, 627. 
 AURORA Boree.lis, the magnificent, of 1837, 269. 
 
 its remarkable extent and duration, 270. 
 
 appearance of, 271-274. 
 
 accounts of, from different points, 272. 
 
 AUTOGRAPHIC letter, of the Emperor of Germany to 
 
 President Grant, 704. 
 AVENUES of the national capital, Washington's plan 
 
 of the, 116. 
 
 AWAKENING, the great religious, of 1887, 456. 
 AWFUL explosion, on board the Princeton, 315. 
 
 visitations, of the cholera and yellow fever, 369. 
 
 " AWFUL " Gardiner, the prize-fighter's conversion, 463. 
 
 B. 
 
 BALLS, the great, to Prince Albert at New York and 
 Boston, 498. 499. 
 
 " BANNER TOWN," for furnishing soldiers in the revo- 
 lution, 190. 
 
 BARCLAY, Commodore, in the battle of Lake Krie, 168. 
 
 BARNUM, P. T., his success with Jenny Lind, 390. 
 
 Jenny Lind's first interview with, 391. 
 
 " BARON RENFREW," tour of, in the United States, 493. 
 BARRICADING the streets against the cholera, 368. 
 BATTLE, on Lake Erie, Commodore Perry's famous, 167. 
 
 on the Thames, against the British and Indians, 170. 
 
 at New Orleans. Gen Jackson's famous. 176. 
 
 of the Forts, 501. 
 
 of Bull Run, the first, 523. 
 
 of Antietam, the bloody and decisive, 539. 
 
 of Gettysburg, the three days. 567. 
 BATTLES, the greatest in the Indian wars, 90. 
 
 in Mexico, 346-353. 
 
 of the civil war, 523, 539, 587. 
 
 naval, 32, 38, 163, 526, 581. 
 
 BEAUREGARD, Gen., his demand for the surrender of 
 
 Fort Sumter, 504. 
 BEAUTY of nature, after the " dark day " of 1780, 47. 
 
 of the site of the national capital, 116, 
 BEECHER, Henry Ward, the oratorical championship 
 
 of the Union cause in England by, 573. 
 
 defending the American Union at Exeter Hall, 
 
 London, 575. 
 
 church of, in Brooklyn, 579. 
 
 BEGINNING of the wonderful aurora borealis, 270. 
 BELL, Prof. A. G.,his invention of the telephone, 684. 
 BENTON, Thomas H., the interview of, with Henry 
 Clay before the dnel, 197. 
 
 the famous expunging resolution of, in U. S. Sen- 
 ate, 263. 
 
 contest of, with Webster, Calhoun and Clay, 267. 
 BERLIN, celebration of the American centennial in, 704. 
 BIBLE, used at inauguration of Washington, 90. 
 BIBLICAL plates of the Mormons, history of the, 216. 
 BIRDS, singular actions of, during the great eclipse, 136. 
 BIKTH of the new republic, in 1776, 25. 
 
 centennial commemoration of the, in 1876, 689. 
 
 BIRTH-PLACE of Lafayette, 193. 
 " BLACK HAWK," the Indian chief, the war with, 92. 
 BLENNERHASSETT, Harman, his complicity in the plot 
 of Aaron Burr, 142. 
 
 the early life and romantic history of, 143. 
 
 the wife of, her hrave defense of her husband, 144. 
 
 the flight and escape of, 145. 
 
 the unhappy fate of, 148. 
 BLOODSHED in the senate chamber. 438. 
 BLOODIEST day of the civil war, 535. 
 BLOODLESS duel between Clay and Randolph, 196. 
 BOGGS, Capt., his naval achievements, 590. 
 BOMBARDMENT of Fort Sumter, 501. 
 
 of Vicksburg, 554. 
 
 BONAPARTE, Napoleon, his tribute to Washington, 125. 
 
 BOOTH, John Wilkes, assassination of President Lin- 
 coln by, 620. 
 
 dramatic flight and arrest of, 625. 
 
 tragic death of, 626. 
 
 his dying message to his mother, 627. 
 
 trials and fates of the accomplices of, 627. 
 BORING, for petroleum, the first, 479. 
 BOSTON CORBETT, Sergeant, 624. 
 
 BRADFORD, David, the leader of the whiskey insurrec- 
 tionists in Pennsylvania, 107. 
 BRAZIL, the Emperor of, at the centennial, 690. 
 BREAKING and taming of wild horses, by Rarey, 509. 
 
 out of the temperance reformation of 1840, 276. 
 
 up of Burr's expedition, 146. 
 
 BRIDAL chamber, the Asiatic cholera in the, 373. 
 
 BRILLIANT musical tour of Jenny Lind, 386. 
 
 BROADWAY, N.Y., the grand Kossuth procession in, 416. 
 
 BROOKS, Preston S., his assault upon Senator Sum- 
 ner, 437. 
 
 BRUTE creation, effect of the solar eclipse on the, 136. 
 
 BUCHANAN, President, reception of the Japanese em- 
 bassy by, 487. 
 
 correspondence between Queen Victoria and, 494. 
 
 reception of Albert Edward, Prince of Wales by, 496. 
 
 Commodore, in command of the Merrimac, 526. 
 BUILDINGS of the centennial exhibition of 1876, 694. 
 BULL RUN, the first battle of, 517. 
 
 the opposing armies before, 518. 
 
 the conflict and panic at, 521. 
 
 the losses of the contending armies at, 525. 
 
 coincidences, remarkable, of the last battle of the 
 war with, 613. 
 
 BUNKER HILL, oration of Daniel Webster at the laying 
 of the corner stone of the monument at, 192. 
 
 visit of Lafayette to, 192. 
 
 BURNSIDE, Gen., gallantry of, at Antietam, 538. 
 
 " the holding of the hill " at Antietam by, Geo. 
 W. Smalley's account of, 538, 539. 
 
 BURNING of one of the great oil wells, 482. 
 
 of the city of Chicago in 1871, 655. 
 BURIAL of George Washington, 123. 
 
 of Abraham Lincoln, 624. 
 
 place of Lincoln, 626. 
 
 BURR, Aaron, account of the early life of, 127. 
 
 his bravery and ardor in the revolution, 128. 
 
 his dismissal by Washington, for debauchery, 128. 
 
 his career as a lawyer, 128. 
 
 his election to the United States Senate, 129. 
 
 his candidacy for the presidency, 129. 
 
 his quarrel and fatal duel with Hamilton, 130. 
 
 his conspiracy to establish an American empire, 143. 
 
 and his deluded followers, 146. 
 
 his trial for treason and acquittal, 147. 
 
 Theodosia, the daughter of, her devotion to, 148. 
 
 his death, 150. 
 
 BURSTING of the monster gun, " Peacemaker," on 
 
 board the Princeton, 315. 
 BURYING the dead at Antietam, 536. 
 
 C. 
 
 CABINET, the discussion in Pres. Lincoln's, upon the 
 emancipation proclamation, 547. 
 
 reception of the news of Cornwallis's surrender, in 
 the English, 58. 
 
 CABLE, the Atlantic, telegraph, section of the, 629. 
 
 the attempts and failures to lav. 630- 
 
 tne scene at the completion of, G32. 
 
 the first message transmitted through, 634. 
 CALIFORNIA, disastrous earthquake in, 161. 
 
 the acquisition of, 347. 
 
 rapid growth of, account of the, 366. 
 
 reign of the vigilance committee in, 395. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 743 
 
 CALIFORNIA, the gold excitement of 1848 in, 360. 
 
 Fremont's expeditions to, 361. 
 
 the first execution in, 3%. 
 
 CAMPAIGN against Vicksburg by the Union forces, 564. 
 CANBY, Gen., surrender of Generals Dick Taylor and 
 . Kirby Smith to, 015. 
 CANNONADING of Fort Sumter, 500. 
 
 of Yicksburg, 555. 
 
 CAPITAL, national, description of the, lltf. 
 CAPITOL, Washington laying the corner stone of the 
 national, 116. 
 
 Webster's oration at the laying of the corner stone 
 of the extension of the national, 11*. 
 
 CAPTURE of Major Andre, the British spy, 50. 
 
 of Aaron Burr, 147. 
 
 of Gibbs the pirate, 226. 
 
 of the assassin, John Wilkes Booth, 625. 
 CARDINAL, Archbishop McCloskey, first American, 676. 
 CAREER of Benedict Arnold, 48. 
 
 of Aaron Burr, 129. 
 
 of Gibbs, the noted pirate, 222. 
 
 of Capt. Raphael Semmes, 581. 
 
 CARPENTER, F. B., the great historical painting of the 
 "proclamation of emancipation" by, 546. 
 
 CATHEDRAL, the most magnificent American, dedica- 
 tion of, 675. 
 
 ceremonies of the dedication of St. Patrick's, 680. 
 CATHOLIC cardinal, consecration of the first, in Amer- 
 ica, 675. 
 
 CATTLE, actions of, during the eclipse of 1806, 136. 
 CELEBRATION of the completion of the Pacific Rail- 
 road, 637. 
 
 of the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of 
 the republic, 698. 
 
 CENTENNIAL commemoration of the birth of the re- 
 public, 689. 
 
 celebration of independence day, 1876, 698. 
 CEREMONY, at the resignation of Washington as com- 
 
 mander-in-chief of the army, 68. 
 
 of the presentation of John Adams, first minister 
 to England, to King George III., 74. 
 
 at the opening of the centennial exhibition, 692. 
 CEUKO GOHDO, Victory of Gen. Winneld Scott at, 350. 
 CHAMPIONSHIP, of the sea, race for the, 403. 
 
 of the Union cause in England, Henry Ward Beech- 
 er's, 573. 
 
 CHANGE of scene after the dark day of 1780, 44. 
 CHAPTLTEPEC, account of the storming of, 347. 
 CHERBOURG, the duel of the iron-clads at, 581. 
 CHICAGO, the destruction by fire of, in 1871, 663. 
 
 reception of the Prince of Wales at, 494. 
 CHOLERA, the scourge of the Asiatic, 368. 
 
 its visits to and ravages iu America, 369. 
 
 its causes, 369. 
 
 phenomena of and incidents in relation to 370. 
 
 the fancied preventives and remedies of, 370. 
 
 horrible scenes during the prevalence of, 371-375. 
 
 comparative mortality of, between the sexes, 374. 
 CHRISTMAS gift of Gen. Sherman to Pres. Lincoln, 605. 
 CINCINNATI, ovation to the Prince of Wales at, 696. 
 CITY of Washington in 1876, 116. 
 
 CIVIL war, the cause of the, 601. 
 
 the first aggression in the, at Snmter, 502. 
 
 'he first battle of the, 517. 
 
 the last battle of the, 607. 
 
 remarkable coincidence in the, 613. 
 
 CLAY, Henry, the duel of, with John Randolph, 196. 
 COINCIDENCE, of the great earthquake, and first steam 
 navigation, 157. 
 
 of the first and last battle of the war, 613. 
 COLLEGES, account of the progress of American, 668. 
 COLLISION, the strange, of the Arctic and Vesta, 429. 
 COLT, John C., murder of Adams by, 384. 
 
 COLT, conviction for murder and suicide in prison of ,3*6. 
 COMBAT of the Merrimac and Monitor, 52t>. 
 
 of the Alabama and Kearsarge, 581. 
 COMET, the remarkable, of 1843, account of, 300. 
 COMETS of the century, account of, 305. 
 COMMEMORATION, centennial, of Independence, 698. 
 COMPLETION of the Pacific Railroad, celebration of, 637. 
 
 scene at Promontory Point upon the, 641. 
 COMMERCE with Japan, the first treaty for, 486. 
 CONFEDERACY, Southern, attempt to establish a, 601. 
 
 the fall of the capital of the, 607. 
 CONFLAGRATION, the most destructive of the age, 653. 
 
 singular exemption of a single house in the, 659. 
 CONSECRATION, the first, of a prince of the Catholic 
 
 Church, in America, 678. 
 CONSPIRACY, to form an American empire, 142. 
 
 of Booth and others to assassinate the principal 
 officers of the government, 617. 
 
 CONSTITUTION, Federal, formation of the, 77. 
 
 the causes leading to the formation of the, 78. 
 
 the objects sought to be attained by the, 78. 
 
 the men who shaped the, 78, 79. 
 
 John Randolph's plan of a, 80. 
 
 the exciting debate upon the, 80. 
 
 the secrecy of the debate upon the, 80. 
 
 speech of Benj. Franklin upon the, 81. 
 
 scenes in convention upon adoption of the, 82. 
 
 declaration of Washington upon signing the, 82. 
 
 acceptance, by the states, of the. 83. 
 
 fifteenth amendment to the, passage of the, 532. 
 CONVENTION, the great constitutional, of 1787, 78. 
 CORNWALLIS, Lord, surrender of, at Yorktown, 55. 
 
 house where the surrender of, took place, 55. 
 
 scene at the surrender of, 57. 
 CORLISS engine, the great, 692. 
 
 COTTON GIN, Eli Whitney's invention of the, 98. 
 how it was suggested to Whitney, 99. 
 
 scene at a, 101. 
 
 the change wrought by the, in the South, 103. 
 
 the effect upon the commercial world of the, 104. 
 CRISIS, the terrible financial, of 1857, 447. 
 
 at Antietam, the, 540. 
 
 CRYSTAL PALACE, opening of the, at New York, 420. 
 
 view of the, 425. 
 
 CUMBERLAND, the sinking of the, by the Merrimnc. 528. 
 " CUP of all nations," won by the yacht America, 409. 
 
 D. 
 
 DANA, rrof., his theory as to petroleum, 483. 
 DANCING, American ladies, with Prince Albert, 498. 
 DANVILLE, Jefferson Davis establishing his seat of gov- 
 ernment at, 614. 
 DARK day, the mysterious, of 1780, 40. 
 
 incidents and anecdotes of the, 41. 
 
 phenomena, unexplained, attending the, 42. 
 
 the extent obscured on the, 45. 
 
 scientific theories as to the cause of the, 46. 
 
 the unsolved mystery of the, 47. 
 
 DAVIS, Andrew Jackson, the spiritual medium, 346. 
 
 Jefferson, at the battle of Bull Run, 524. 
 the flight of, after Lee's surrender, 614. 
 
 DEAD Sea. Lynch's expedition to the., 354. 
 
 the shores and surroundings of the, 358. 
 
 the mystery solved of the, 359. 
 DEATH, of George Washington. 169. 
 
 of Alexander Hamilton, 133. 
 
 of John Quincy Adams in the national capital, 262. 
 
 of Abraham Lincoln, 617. 
 
 tragic, of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin, 626. 
 DEATH-BED, scene at President Washington's, 122. 
 
 scene at President Lincoln's, 621. 
 
 DEBATE, the great, between Webster and Hayne, 205. 
 
744 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 DEBATE, the questions discussed in, 206. 
 
 the debaters in, contrasted, 2118. 
 
 scene after Webster's speech in, 211. 
 
 the eleven days', on the right of petition, 253. 
 
 the great political, of Lincoln and Uouglas, 469. 
 scene during, 470. 
 
 DECLARATION of national sovereignty, 25. 
 
 DECOY letter sent by Washington to attract Cornwallls 
 
 to Yorktown, 58. 
 DEDICATION of the Bull Run memorial monument, 025. 
 
 of St. Patrick's cathedral in New York, 680. 
 DEFEAT of the British ship of war, Serapis, 30. 
 
 of the British under Cormvallis at Yorktown, 57. 
 
 of the Indians by Mad Anthony Wayne, 93. 
 
 of St. Clair by " Little Turtle," 95. 
 
 of British squadron on Lake Erie by Perry, 167. 
 
 of the British at New Orleans by Gen. Jackson, 176. 
 
 of Santa Anna by Gen. Taylor, 350. 
 
 of the Mexicans by Gen. Scott, 352. 
 
 of the Union forces at Bull Run, 523. 
 
 of the Confederates at Vicksburg, 557. 
 
 of the Confederates at Gettysburg, 567. 
 
 of the Alabama by the Kearsarge, 587. 
 
 of the Confederate iron-clads at New Orleans, 593. 
 
 of the Confederates at Fort Fisher, 597. 
 
 of the Confederates at Savannah, 605. 
 
 of Gen. Lee by Gen. Grant at Richmond, 610. 
 DEFENSE of the Union, Beecber's, in England, 573. 
 DE KALB, visit of Washington and Lafayette to the 
 
 grave of, 192. 
 
 DELEGATES to the convention for framing the federal 
 constitution, 78. 
 
 DELUSION, tlie Second Advent, of Miller, 307. 
 
 DEPARTURE of Lafayette from America, 195. 
 
 DE ROCHAMBEAU, Count, at Yorktown, 59. 
 
 DESK on 'Which Jefferson "wrote the declaration of inde- 
 pendence, 700. 
 
 DESTRUCTION of the world, the expected, 307. 
 
 Eev. William Miller's prophecy of, 308. 
 
 the preparations made for the impending, 311. 
 
 by the great flood in 1S13, ITS. 
 
 DEVOTION of Theodosia, daughter of Aaron Burr, to 
 
 her father, 1 18. 
 
 DIARY, Washington's last entry in his, 120. 
 DIFFICULTY of traveling during the " dark day," 40. 
 DINNER given by Washington to Lord Cornwallis after 
 
 the surrender of Yorktown, Cl. 
 
 Washington's toast to the British army at the, 62. 
 DISCOVERY of ether as an anaesthetic, 3*5. 
 
 of gold at Sutler's mills in California, 360. 
 DISSOLUTION of the Union, the petition presented by 
 
 John Quincy Adams, to congress for the, 257. 
 DISTINGUISHED temperance advocates, 282. 
 DISTRICT of Columbia, the laying the first corner stone 
 
 by Washington in, 116. 
 DOM Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, visit of, to ihe United 
 
 States, 690. 
 
 starting the great engine at the centennial, 692. 
 DOUBLE execution by the vigilance committee in San 
 
 Francisco, 393. 
 
 DOUGLAS, Stephen A., the great debate of, with Abra- 
 ham Lincoln, 469. 
 
 DRAFTING of the declaration of independence, 26. 
 
 of the emancipation proclamation, 546. 
 DREAMS, the prophetic, of President Lincoln, CIS. 
 DUEL, the fatal, of Burr and Hamilton, 127. 
 
 the harmless, of Clay and Randolph, 1S6. 
 DUELING ground at Weehawken, view of the, 131. 
 
 Alexander Hamilton's testimony against, 132. 
 
 ground at Bladensburg, view of the, 202. 
 DYING words of Georae Wnshinfrton, 11 o. 
 
 John Quincy Adams, in the national capital, 262. 
 
 message of the assassin Booth to his mother, 627. 
 
 B. 
 
 EARLY home of President Lincoln, 617. 
 EARTHQUAKE, the great western, of lull, 156. 
 
 its extent and disastrous effects, 157. 
 
 its long-continued violence, 159. 
 
 the changes wrought by, Kid. 
 
 ECLIPSE, the total solar, at mid-day, of 1806. 
 
 effect upon the witnesses of, 135. 
 
 the actions of beasts and birds during, 136. 
 
 scientific calculations based upon, 137. 
 
 reports from different observers of, 13S. 
 
 views of the superstitious upon, 140. 
 
 EDISON, Thomas A., the inventor, accounts of, 6*1. 
 , his improvements upon the electric light, G^2. 
 '' Ills invention of the phonograph, 685. 
 
 his invention of the microphone, 687. 
 EDMONDS, Judge, account of, as a spiritualist, 3J5. 
 
 his classification of spiritual mediums, 345. 
 EDUCATION, free popular, in the United States, rise 
 
 and progress of, 667. 
 
 contrast of the old with the new system of, 670. 
 
 the grants of public lands in aid of, 671. 
 
 bureau of, at Washington, 672. 
 
 free public, for females, condition of schools for, 673. 
 EGYPT, its contribution to the exhibition of 1*76, 697. 
 ELECTION, first, of a president of the United States, 83. 
 ELECTRIC light, the invention of, by Prof. Farmer, 6*1. 
 
 description of the, 682. 
 
 the adaptations to use of the, 683. 
 at sea, 683. 
 
 telegraph, the invention of the, 244. 
 ELECTRICITY, experiments of Prof. Morse with, 244. 
 
 the trial of, in congress by Gov. Wallace, 247. 
 ELI WHITNEY, the inventor of the cotton gin, 100. 
 EMANCIPATION, Pres. Lincoln's proclamation of, 644. 
 
 the exigency that caused the proclamation of, 645. 
 
 the great event of the 19th century, estimated by 
 Lincoln as, 548. 
 
 public reception of proclamation of, 550. 
 
 its effect upon the freedmen, 551. 
 EMINENT revival preachers of the century, 460. 
 EMBASSY, the first, from the New Republic to the Eng- 
 lish Court, 70. 
 
 the results of John Adams's to George III., 75. 
 
 the first Oriental, to a foreign government, 485. 
 EMIGRATION, the great, to California in the gold ex- 
 citement of 1848, 367. 
 
 the great, to the oil regions in 1859, 476. 
 EMPEROR of Germany, letter of, to Pres. Grant, 704. 
 
 his congratulations upon the republic's centen- 
 nial anniversary, 707. 
 
 of Brazil, Dom Pedro, at the centennial, 692. 
 ENCOMIUM upon Massachusetts, Daniel Webster's, 209. 
 END of the world, the Millerites awaiting the, 310. 
 ENGINE, the Corliss, at the exposition of 1876, 602. 
 
 Pres. Grant and Dom Pedro starting the, 692. 
 
 ENGINEERING, feats of, in the construction of the Pa- 
 cific railway, 638. 
 
 ENGLAND, the reception of the first Republican ambas- 
 sador by. 70. 
 
 the heir to the throne of, in the United States, 493. 
 
 banishment of Aaron Burr from, 148. 
 ENTRANCE of the United States army into the capital 
 
 of Mexico. 352. 
 
 of the Union army into the Confederate capital. 610. 
 
 of the New York Seventh Regiment into Union 
 Square at the centennial celebration. 701. 
 
 EPIDEMICS, the great yellow fever and cholera. 36S. 
 
 the several great, of the century, 369. 
 
 heart-rending scenes during the prevalence of, 371. 
 ERICSSON, construction of the " Monitor " by, 630. 
 ETHER, discovery of, as an ansesthetic, 324. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ETHER, religious objections urged agaiust the use of, 325. 
 
 the three claimants to the discovery of, 326. 
 
 the effects, beneficent aud amusing, of 32'J. 
 
 Ward's monument in honor of the discovery of, 330. 
 EVAKTS, William II., the centennial oration of, 60S. 
 EVKKETT, Edward, his eulogy of Webster's speech 
 
 against Hayne, 210. 
 EXCITEMENT, the great gold, of 1848, 360. 
 
 the great temperance, of 1849, 281. 
 
 the great financial, of 1*57, 44". 
 
 the great religious, of 1859, 456. 
 
 the great petroleum, of 1659, 476. 
 
 the great patriotic, of 1861, 501. 
 EXECUTION, the first in California, 396. 
 EXECUTION'S, by the vigilance committee of Cali- 
 fornia, 400. 
 
 EXETER hall, London, Henry Ward Beecher's defense 
 
 of the Union cause in, 575. 
 EXHIBITION, the great, of 1853 in Xew York, 421. 
 
 the great centennial of 1876 in Philadelphia, 689. 
 EXPECTED destruction of the world, the, 307. 
 EXPEDITION, Fremont's to the Rocky mountains, 285. 
 
 of Lieut. Lynch to the Dead Sea and Jordan, 354. 
 EXPLANATION of the electric light, 682. 
 
 of the telephone, 684. 
 
 of the phonograph, 685. 
 
 of the microphone, 687. 
 
 EXPLORATION of the Dead Sea and River Jordan, 
 Lynch's, 364. 
 
 of the Eocky mountains, Fremont's, 286. 
 EXPLOSION, terrible, of Com. Stockton's monster gun, 
 
 on the Princeton, 319. 
 EXPOSITION, the grand centennial, of 1876, 689. 
 
 Pres. Grant and Dom Pedro at the, 692. 
 EXPUNGING resolution, the Benton, passage of, In U. S. 
 
 senate, 263. 
 
 three years parliamentary struggle over the, 268. 
 
 EXTENSIVF. earthquake at the West, of 1811, 156. 
 EXTRAORDINARY, combat of the iron-dads, Merrimac 
 
 and Monitor, 520. 
 
 coincidence as to the first and last battles of th 
 civil war, 613. 
 
 EXULTATION, at the declaration of independence, 28. 
 
 Rt the proclamation of emancipation, 550. 
 
 FAO-SIMILE, of the expunged Jackson resolution, 267. 
 
 of the seal of the vigilance committee, 397. 
 
 of the signature of the Emperor of Germany, 706. 
 FAILURES, during the great financial panic of 1857,448. 
 FALL of Fort Sumter, 505. 
 
 of Richmond, 607. 
 
 FAMOUS whiskey insurrection of 1794 in Penn., 106. 
 FAREWELL words of Washington to his army, 67. 
 
 of Washington's mother to Washington, 8fi. 
 
 of President Monroe to Lafayette. 195. 
 
 of Gen. Lee to his officers, 613. 
 
 message of the murderer Booth to his mother, 626. 
 FARMER, Prof., invention of the electric light by, 682. 
 XARNSWOBTH, Gen., at the dedication of the monu- 
 ment on the battle field of Bull Run, 525. 
 
 FARRAOUT, Adm., achievements of, at New Orleans, 689. 
 
 hie running the Confederate batteries at Forta 
 Jackson and St. Philip, 590. 
 
 his gallant action in Mobile bay, 592. 
 
 FARTING and prayer, national day of, during the great 
 pestilence of, 1849, 369. 
 
 FATAL duel between Aaron Burr and Alexander Ham- 
 ilton, 127. 
 
 FATHF.R Mathnw. his visits to the United States, 281. 
 
 FF.T>KRAL conatitntion, its formation and adoption, 77. 
 
 ir.r.l.T,. Cyras W. p at laying of the Atlantic cable, 63C. 
 
 'FIFTEENTH amendment," adoption of the, 552. 
 FILLMORE, President, at the laying of the corner stone 
 
 of the capitol extension, 118. 
 FINANCIAL crisis, the great of, 1857, 447. 
 FIRE, the great Chicago, 653. 
 FIRST American cardinal, 676. 
 
 election of president of the United States, 85. 
 
 engagement of the civil war, 518. 
 
 execution in California, 396. 
 
 gun of the great rebellion, 502. 
 
 minister to England, 71. 
 
 naval victory of the United States, 35. 
 
 occupation of a foreign capital by U. S. army, .S&3. 
 
 orienta' embassy, 485. 
 
 squadron combat of the U. S. navy, 163. 
 
 steamboat in American waters, 150. 
 
 steam railway, 646. 
 
 telegraphic message over an established line, 249. 
 
 telegraphic message through the Atlantic cable, 634. 
 FLAG, the first display of a U. S. naval, 32. 
 
 description of the first U. S. naval ensign, 33. 
 
 the British, first striking of, at sea, to the U. S., 38. 
 
 the fall of the U. S.. at Fort Sumter, 504. 
 
 the restoration of the U. S., at Fort Sumter, 615. 
 FLIGHT of Jefferson Davis, after Lee's surrender, 6! 4. 
 
 of John Wilkes Booth, after his crime, 625. 
 
 FOOT, Senator, the famous resolution of, 206. 
 FOOTE, Admiral, his naval services, 861. 
 FORD'S theater Washington, D. C., 618. 
 
 scene in, at the assassination of Lincoln, 620. 
 
 FORMATION of the federal constitution, 77. 
 FOHT Fisher, Admiral Porter's victory at, 697. 
 
 McAllister, fall of, 605. 
 
 Moultrie, in the operations at Charleston, 503. 
 
 Sumter, bombardment of, 501. 
 
 gallant defense of, by Gen. Rob. Anderson, 602. 
 
 evacuation of, by the United States garrison, 606. 
 
 restoration of the U. S. flag to, 615. 
 
 FORTIFICATIONS, at Vicksburg, 564. 
 
 FOUNDING of the national capital, 112. 
 
 Fox Sisters, the wonderful mediums, career of the, 342. 
 
 FRANK LIN, Benjamin, pleading for pacification, PI. 
 
 Gen., at the battle of Bull Run, 620. 
 FREE, popular education, progress of, 667. 
 FREEDOM of the slaves, Lincoln's proclamation of, 644. 
 FREDERICK the Great, his eulogy of Washington, 126 
 FREMONT, John C., his expedition to the Rocky moon 
 
 tains, 285. 
 FULTON, Robert, the early life of, 150. 
 
 the invention of the steamboat by, 161. 
 
 the first pecuniary reward of, 164. 
 FUNERAL of Geo. Washington, 123. 
 
 of Abraham Lincoln, 617. 
 
 G. 
 
 GAI.K, the memorable, of 1115, 178. 
 
 its havoc on land and sea, 179. 
 
 the singular phenomena accompanying, 179. 
 
 estimates of property destroyed by, 185. 
 
 GARDINER, " Awful," the revivalist prize-fighter, 463. 
 GEKERALS, the two great, face to face, 607. 
 GERMANY, letter of the Emperor of, to Pres. Grant, 706 
 GETTYSBURG, the three days' battle at, 663. 
 
 scene at the height of, 667. 
 
 the last desperate charge of the Confederates at, 668. 
 GIBBS, the pirate, career of; the real name of, 222. 
 
 his war on the commerce of all nations. 224. 
 
 his capture, execution and remorse, 227. 
 GOLD, the discovery of, in California, 360. 
 
 Capt. Suiter's search for, 363. 
 
 James W. Marshall's accidental discovery of, 364. 
 
 the great emigration to the land of, 367. 
 
46 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 GOOD TEMPLARS, gathering of, at the centennial, 693. 
 GRAND AHMY of the republic, at the ceuteimial, 693. 
 
 balls to Albert Edward, Prince of Walee, 498, 499. 
 
 dinner given by Washington to Comwallis, 61. 
 
 march of Sherman's army through the South, 599. 
 GRANGERS, the national organization of, 660. 
 
 the principles, aims and extent of, 661. 
 GRANT, Ulysses S., victory of, at Vicksburg, 564,. 
 
 surrender of the Confederate army to, CIS. 
 
 his election to the presidency of the U. S., 614. 
 
 inauguration of the exposition of 1876, by, 692. 
 GREAT whiskey insurrection in Pennsylvania, 105. 
 
 debate between Webster and Hayue, 205. 
 
 struggle for the right of petition in congress, 252. 
 
 temperance reformation of 1*10, 1276. 
 
 awakening in the religious world In 1867, 456. 
 
 conflagration at Chicago, 653. 
 GREATEST defeat and victory in Indian wars, 91. 
 
 new year's present of the century, 547. 
 
 H. 
 
 HALL of Independence, Philadelphia, 1776, 27. 
 HALLS of the Montezumas, Gen. Scott in the, 362. 
 HAMILTON, Alexander, the public life of, 127. 
 
 his fatal duel with Aaron Burr, 127. 
 
 his testimony against dueling, 132. 
 
 the funeral obsequies of. 133. 
 
 the meeting of the widow of, with Aaron Burr, 133. 
 HAMMOND, E. P., the revival preacher, 460. 
 HAMPTON KOADB, the combat of the iron-clads in, 526. 
 HANCOCK, John, his signature to the declaration of in- 
 dependence, 31. 
 
 HAROLD, the trial, conviction and execution of, 628. 
 HAKPEH'S FERRY, the surrender of, 536. 
 HARRISON, Gen., his victory over Tecuniseh, 170. 
 HART, Sergeant, gallant action of, at Fort Sumter, 506. 
 
 raising the flag at Sumter after the war, 615. 
 HARTFORD, battle of the, with the Tennessee, 594. 
 HARVARD COLLEGE, the growth of, 668. 
 
 HATCH, Cora L. V., the noted spiritual medium, 346. 
 HAYNE, the great debate of, with Webster, 206. 
 HEAD-QUARTERS of General Arnold, 53. 
 
 of Gen. Meade at Gettysburg, 663. 
 HKINTZELMAN, Gen., the division of, at Bull Run, 618. 
 HKIR to the British throne, his tour of the U. S., 493. 
 HENRY, Patrick, the eloquent appeal of, 26. 
 HOOKER, Gen. Joseph, at Antietam, 636. 
 
 HOLMES, Oliver Wendell, his tribute to etherization, 326,' 
 HOME, D. D., the celebrated spiritual medium, 343. 
 HORRIBLE DISASTER on board the Princeton, 319. 
 HORRORS of the whirlwind of 1815, 183. 
 
 of the cholera visitations, 372. 
 
 of the lynch law in California, 396. 
 HOUSE where Comwallis surrendered, 65. 
 
 In which spirit rappings originated, 341. 
 
 where President Lincoln died, 621. 
 
 of President Lincoln at Springfield, 111., 623. 
 
 remaining after the conflagration of Chicago, 664. 
 
 in which Thomas Jefferson wrote the declaration 
 of independence, 689. 
 
 HOWARD, Gen., his service with Sherman's army, 602. 
 HORSE TAMING, astonishing feats of Prof. Earey in, 609. 
 
 Queen Victoria at Barey's exhibition of, 613. 
 
 HOWB, Ellas, his invention of the sewing machine, 332. 
 HUMBOLDT, his tribute to an American explorer, 290. 
 HUNTHR, Gen., division of, at battle of Bull Run, 618. 
 
 I. 
 
 INAUGURATION of Washington as first president, 86. 
 
 bible used at the, 85. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE, the declaration of American. 26. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE, the causes which led to, 26. 
 
 eloquence of Patrick Henry in support of, 2& 
 
 resolution of Kichard Henry Lee for, 26. 
 
 original draft of, the maker of the. 26. 
 
 speech of John Adams upon, 26. 
 
 views of Washington as to, 26. 
 
 the scenes following the proclamation of, 28. 
 
 enthusiasm of the people upon, 28. 
 
 the reception, by foreign powers of, 29. 
 
 the final accomplishment of the purpose of, 31. 
 
 centennial celebration of, 698. 
 
 the centennial reading of the original of, 699, 
 
 hall at Philadelphia, July 4, 1876, 695. 
 
 INDIAN WAES, the greatest defeats and victories in, 91. 
 
 defeat of St. Clair by " Little Turtle " in the, 94. 
 
 ^- victories of Mad Anthony Wayne in, 96. 
 
 Gen. Jackson's ending of the, 97. 
 
 INDUSTRY of all nations, great exhibition of the. In 
 New York, 421. 
 
 the objects of the society of Sovereigns of, 6C6. 
 INSURRECTION, the famous whiskey, in Penn., 106. 
 
 the origin and motto of, 106. 
 
 the suppression of, by Washington and Lee, 11C. 
 INTERIOR of the World's fair of 1853 in New York, 421. 
 
 of Fort Sumter after the bombardment, 607. 
 
 of the tower of the Monitor, 526. 
 INTERNATIONAL KEGATTA.won by "the America," 40S. 
 INTERVIEW of John Adams with the King and Qoeon 
 
 of England, 73. 
 
 between Aaron Burr and his pursuers, 147. 
 
 of Gen. Washington and Lafayette, first, 187. 
 
 of Lafayette and Ked Jacket, 1!H. 
 
 of Jenny Lind and P. T. Barnum, first, 390. 
 
 of the Japanese embassy and Pres. Buchanan, 488. 
 
 of Grant and Pemberton before Vicksburg, 660, 
 
 of Generals Grant and Lee after the last battle, MT. 
 INTENTION of the cotton gin by Whitney, 98. 
 
 of the electric telegraph hy Morse, 244. 
 
 of the sewing machine by Howe, 332. 
 
 of the electric light by Farmer, 681. 
 
 of the telephone by Bell, 684. 
 
 of the phonograph by Edison, 686. 
 
 of the microphone by Edison, 687. 
 INVITATION to Lafayette, by Congress, to visit the 
 
 United States as the guest of the nation, 189. 
 
 to Kossuth to take refuge in America, 414. 
 
 to the Prince of Wales to visit the United Stt, 
 by President Buchanan, 493. 
 
 IRON-CLADS, the combats of the, 626, 631. 
 
 J. 
 
 JACKSON, Gen., his decisive victory over the Indians. 97 
 
 victory of, at New Orleans, 171. 
 
 the generalship of, 172. 
 
 ending of the war of 1812 by, 176. 
 
 " conqueror of Napoleon'* conquerors," bow he 
 won the title of, 177. 
 
 attempted assassination of, 238. 
 
 the expunging of the resolutions of cenanre of, 267, 
 
 Dr. Charles T., his claim to the ether invention, 326. 
 
 General Stonewall, at Antietam, 640. 
 
 JAPAN, the first treaty of peace and commerce with, *fl?. 
 JAPANESE, the first embassy to a foreign power of 
 the, 485. 
 
 manner of bearing the treaty, 485. 
 
 ambassadors, description of the, 486. 
 
 Tommy, the petting of, by the American ladies, 491. 
 JEFFERSON, Thomas, his draft of tho declaration of 
 
 independence, 26. 
 
 JEFFERSON DAVIS, flight of, after Lee's surrender, 614. 
 JRNNY LIND, hermusical tourinthe United Statne, 386 
 
 her first appearance, in opera, 387. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 747 
 
 JBNNY LIND, her muiical career, 388. 
 
 her first concert in the United States, 390. 
 
 her generous gift to the poor in New York, 391. 
 
 the furor over, 3J1. 
 
 her duet with Daniel WebHer, 393. 
 
 her pecuniary success in the United States, 394. 
 JONES, John Paul, Commodore, history of, 32. 
 
 the first display of an United States ensign by, 33. 
 
 his capture of the Serapis, 3G. 
 
 JORDAN, the exploration of the river, by Lynch, 354. 
 
 the waters and fishes of the river, 365. 
 
 the banks and scenery of the, 35G. 
 
 description of the valley of the, 357. 
 JULY 4, 1776, the **jnte]inial celebration of, 698. 
 
 K. 
 
 KEARSARGE, capture of the Alabama by the, 586. 
 KELLY, O. H., one of the founders of the National 
 
 Grange organization, 661. 
 KEVES, Gen., the brigade of, at Bull Run, 620. 
 KILPATBICK, Gen., the battle flag of, at Gettysburg, 570. 
 KINDS of spiritual manifestations, Judge Edmoud's 
 
 definition of the several, 345. 
 KING GEORGE III., his reception of the first ambassa- 
 
 dor from the United States, 74. 
 
 Frederick William, tribute of, to Fremont, 290. 
 KING'S College, old, view of, 668. 
 
 KIRK, Kdward N., the revivalist, 657, 
 
 KIT CAKSON, the companion and guide of Fremont in 
 
 the Kocky mountains, 286. 
 KNAPP, Jacob, the revivalist, 460. 
 KNIGHTS TEMPLARS, assembly of, at Phila. in 1876, 693. 
 
 of Pythias, parade of the, at the centennial, 693. 
 KNOWLEDGE of rock oils among the early Indians, 476. 
 KOSSUTH, the visit of, to the United States, 412. 
 
 biography of, 413. 
 
 l)aniel Webster's laudation of, 418. 
 
 eloquence :i iid characteristics of, 417. 
 
 LABOR ORGANIZATIONS, history of the, 660. 
 LAFAYETTE, gallantry of, at Yorktowu, 56. 
 
 his early soldier life, 187. 
 
 his reception by Gen. Washington, 188. 
 
 his gallant services in the revolution, 189. 
 
 his visit to the United States as the guest of the na- 
 tion, by invitation of congress, 189. 
 
 his last visit to the United States, 190, 
 
 his interview with Red Jacket, 194. 
 
 his visit to the tomb of Washington, 194. 
 
 his parting interview with President Monroe, 195. 
 LAKE ERIE, the great naval combat on, 163. 
 LAKES formed by the great earthquake of 1811, 160. 
 LAST hours and words of Gen. Washington, 119. 
 
 words written by President Lincoln, 619. 
 LATTER-DAY SAINTS, origin and tenets of, 216. 
 LAYING the corner stone of the national capital, 116. 
 
 the corner stone of Bunker Hill monument, 192. 
 
 the Atlantic telegraphic cable, 630. 
 
 LEE, Gen. Henry, his suppression of the great whiskey 
 insurrection in Pennsylvania, 111. 
 
 Gen. Robert E., at Gettysburg, 564. 
 
 his surrender to Gen. Grant at Appomatox, 612. 
 LETTER of King George on the defeat at Yorktown, 60. 
 
 last, of General Washington, 120. 
 
 congratulatory, of Emperor William of Germany to 
 President Grant, 705. 
 
 of Queen Victoria to President Buchanan, 494. 
 LIFE among the gold-diggers of California, 367. 
 LINCOLN, Abraham, his great debate with Douglas, 469. 
 
 his election to the presidency, 475. 
 
 LINCOLN, his emancipation proclamation, S44. 
 
 and his cabinet discussing emancipation, 549. 
 
 his visit to Richmond after Lee's surrender, 613. 
 
 the murderous assault of J. Wilkes Booth upon, 617. 
 
 the prophetic dream of, 618. 
 
 the scene at the death-bed of, 621. 
 
 last words written by, 619. 
 
 the funeral obsequies of, 623. 
 
 LIND, Jenny, the musical tour in America of, 386. 
 " LITTLE TURTLE," his victory over St. Clair, 95. 
 LOCOMOTIVE, the first use of the, 646. 
 LONDON, celebration of the American centennial in, 703. 
 LONGSTREET, Gen., at the battle of Antietam, 569. 
 Loss of the steamer Arctic by collision at mid-day, 429. 
 LOSSES of the two contending armies at Bull Run, 526. 
 LOT'S WIFE, discovered by Lynch's expedition, 359. 
 LYNCH LAW, reign of, in California in 1851, 395. 
 LYNCH, Lieut., expedition of, to the Dead Sea, 354. 
 LYELL, Prof., his account of the great earthquake, 180. 
 
 M. 
 
 MACHINERY building, at the centennial of 1876, 693. 
 MAFFIT, John N., the revivalist, 456. 
 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS of 1837, 269. 
 MALIGNANT EPIDEMICS, visits of, to the U. S., 368. 
 MANASSAS, battle of, 517. 
 
 MANCHESTER, attempts to silence Beecher in, 574. 
 MANIFESTATIONS, spiritual, accounts of, 344. 
 MANSFIELD, Gen., death of, at Antietam, 536. 
 MANUSCRIPT of the emancipation proclamation, 544. 
 MARCH of General Sherman's army to the sea, 598. 
 MARINE DISASTER, terrible, to the Arctic, 428. 
 MARSHALL, accidental discovery of gold by, 364. 
 MASONIC CEREMONIES at the national capital, 115. 
 MASSACHUSETTS, Webster's eulogy of, 209. 
 MATHEW, Father, his temperance mission, 281. 
 McCLELLAN, Gen., at Antietam, 536. 
 MCCLOSKEY, Archbishop, first American cardinal, (75. 
 consecration of, 676. 
 MCDOWELL, Gen., at Bull Rnn, 518. 
 MCLEAN, first and last battle of the civil war fought on 
 
 the farm of, 613. 
 
 MCPHERSON, Gen., the surrender of Vicksburg to, 560. 
 MEADE, Gen., at Gettysburg, 563. 
 MEDIUMS, spiritual, accounts of the great, 342. 
 MEIGS, the volunteer generalship of the young son of 
 
 Gen.. 524. 
 
 MEMBERS of the first constitutional convention, 78. 
 MERRIMAC AND MONITOR, combat of the, 526. 
 MESSAGE, the first telegraphic, 249. 
 
 the first from Europe, over the Atlantic cable, 634. 
 MESSAGES between the President and the Queen, 634. 
 METEORIC SHOWER of 1833, the great, 228. 
 
 the extent covered by the, 229. 
 
 the changes of weather wrought by the, 231. 
 
 theories, scientific and superstitious, as to, 233. 
 
 METROPOLITAN ELEVATED RAILWAY in N Y., 662. 
 MEXICO, conquests of Gens. Scotland Taylor in, 347-353. 
 
 the American army entering the capital of, 352. 
 MICROPHONE, the invention of the, by Edison, 681. 
 MID-OCEAN, collision of steamers at noonday in, 428. 
 
 union of the telegraphic cables in, 629. 
 MILLER, William, Rev., the latter-day prophet, 307. 
 MINING OPERATIONS in California, 360. 
 MINISTER TO ENGLAND, the first American, 70. 
 MINNESOTA, combat of, with the Merrimac, 529. 
 MIRACLES OF SCIENCE, the four, 680. 
 
 MOBILE BAY, exploits of Admiral Farragut in, 694, 
 MODERN locomotive, the, 647. 
 
 railway car, the, 649. 
 
 MONITOR AND MERRIMAC, battle between th, 524. 
 MONROE, Pres., parting addrest of, to Lafayette, 196. 
 
748 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 MONTEHEV, Gen. Taylor's victory at, 348. 
 MONUMENT to Alexander Hamilton, 127. 
 
 laying the corner stone of Bunker Hill, 192. 
 
 to the discovery of etherization, 330. 
 
 to the victims of cholera, 370. 
 
 soldiers', the, at Gettysburg, 571. 
 
 MOODY AND SANKEY, the great revivalists, 456. 
 MORMOX TEMPLE at Nauvoo, description of the, 221. 
 MORMONS, the rise and progress of the, 214. 
 
 origin of the sect of, 215. 
 
 their leaders and theology, 216. 
 
 the first church of the, 217. 
 
 proselyting in Europe by the, 219. 
 
 murder of Lieut. Gov. Boggs by the, 219, 
 
 Brigham Young's connection with the, 220. 
 
 Salt Lake City, the Zion of the, description of, 221. 
 MORSE, Prof., his invention of the telegraph, 244. 
 
 his trials, troubles and triumphs, 245. 
 MORTON, Dr., his claim to the ether invention, 326. 
 MORTALITY from the Asiatic cholera, 369. 
 MOUNTAINS, Rocky, Fremont's expedition to the, 288. 
 MOUNT VERNON, visit of Lafayette to, 194. 
 
 . the Prince of Wales at, 496. 
 
 MURDER of Dr. Parkman by Prof. Webster, 376. 
 
 of Samuel Adams by John C. Colt, 384. 
 MUSICAL TOUR of Jenny Lind in the United States, 386. 
 MUTINY, first in the U. S. navy, on the Somers, 290. 
 MYSTERIOUS DARK DAY of 1780, 40. 
 
 N. 
 
 NAPOLEON, his eulogy of Washington, 124. 
 NARRATIVE of the eclipse of 1806, Cooper's, 135. 
 NARROW ESCAPE of Pres. Jackson from an assassin, 236. 
 
 of President Tyler at Princeton explosion, 317. 
 
 NATIONAL CAPITAL, founding of the, 112. 
 
 bitter sectional contest as to its location, 113. 
 
 the reasons for selection of present site of the, 115. 
 
 NATIONAL CAPITOL, Washington and the Freemasons 
 laying the corner stone of the, 116. 
 
 Webster laying the comer stone of the exten- 
 sion of the, 118. 
 
 NATIONAL ENSIGN, first display of a naval, 33. 
 NATIONAL GRANGE ORGANIZATION, history of the, 660. 
 NAVAL VICTORY, the first United States, 32. 
 
 Commodore John Paul Jones's great, 38. 
 
 Commodore Perry's, on Lake Erie, 163. 
 
 of the Monitor over the Merrimac, 526. 
 
 of the Kearsarge over the Alabama, 587. 
 
 NAVIGATION, by steam, first, of American waters, 153. 
 NEGRO SLAVES, the emancipation of the, 544. 
 
 rejoicing of, over their freedom, 550. 
 
 NEW MEXICO, the acquisition of, 353. 
 
 NEW ORLEANS, victory of Gen. Jackson at, 176. 
 
 achievements of Admiral Farragut at, 590. 
 
 NEW REPUBLIC, the birth of the, 25. 
 
 centennial commemorations of, 689. 
 
 NEWS, of the declaration of independence, reception at 
 home and abroad, of the, 28. 
 
 of the fall of Sumter, effect of the, 508. 
 
 of the surrender of Lee, effect of the, 607. 
 
 the first sent over the Atlantic cable, 634. 
 NEW WONDERS of the world, the four, 680. 
 NEW York, arrival of Lafayette in, 190. 
 
 grand military reception of Kossuth in, 416. 
 
 great industrial exhibition of 1853, in, 421. 
 
 great financial panic of 1857, in, 451. 
 
 grand ball to the Prince of Wales in, 498. 
 
 NOMINATION of Washington as General, 64. 
 
 of Abraham Lincoln to the presidency, 475. 
 NORMAL SCHOOL in New York, 670. 
 NORTH, the great uprising of the, 508. 
 
 NORTH-WEST, Fremont's expedition to the far, 286. 
 NORTH-WESTERN university, the, 669. 
 
 o. 
 
 OATH, administering of the, to Washington, 89. 
 
 of Lincoln as to emancipation, 548. 
 OBJECTIONS, religious, against aiuesthetics, 325. 
 OBJECTS of the Grange and Labor organizations, 326. 
 OBSEQUIES of President Washington, 123. 
 
 of Alexander Hamilton, 133. 
 
 of President Lincoln, 623. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS, scientific, of the total eclipse of 1SOO, 137. 
 OBSTINACY of Geo. III. as to American affairs, 71. 
 OCCUPATION of the Mexican capital by United States' 
 't troops, 346. 
 
 OCEAN, loss of the Arctic by noonday collision in mid, 429. 
 ODD FELLOWS, parade of, at Philadelphia, in 1*76, 693. 
 ODE, Bayard Taylor's centennial, recited at Phil., 690. 
 OHIO, first steamboat on the river, 193. 
 
 establishment of the Mormons in, 218. 
 
 OIL regions of Penn., Ky., Ohio and Canada, 478. 
 
 rock, the use of, by the early Indians, 476. 
 ONWARD MOVEMENT, the first of the loyal army, 518. 
 OPENING act of the civil war, 501. 
 
 of the exhibition of 1876 at Philadelphia, 691. 
 OPERATIONS at Vicksburg, 554. 
 
 ORATIONS, Daniel Webster's at the laying of the corner 
 stone of Bunker Hill monument, 192. 
 
 Daniel Webster's at the laying of the corner stone 
 of the capitol extension, 118. 
 
 of William M. Evarts, at centennial celebration, 698. 
 ORATORICAL championship of America's cause in Eng- 
 land, by Henry Ward Beecher, 573. 
 
 powers of Kossuth, Webster's laudation of the, 418. 
 
 powers of Webster, Everett's testimony to the, 210. 
 ORDERS OF GLORY, conferred on Professor Morse, 250. 
 OREGON, the exploring tour of Fremont in, 285. 
 ORIENTAL PRINCES, at the White House, 486. 
 ORIGINAL steam car, the, 648. 
 
 telegraphic instrument, the. 246. 
 OVATION, in the United States to Lafayette, 16. 
 OVATIONS to Washington on his journey to his inaugu- 
 ration, 86. 
 
 P. 
 
 PACIFIC RAILROAD, the construction of the, 637. 
 PALACE, the Crystal, opening of the, in New York, 420. 
 PALO ALTO, Gen. Taylor's victory at, 488. 
 PANIC during the great earthquake of 1M1, 158. 
 
 during the prevalence of the Asiatic cholera, 369. 
 
 the great financial, of 1857, 447. 
 
 exciting and amusing scenes during financial, 449. 
 
 at Bull Run, 521. 
 
 PARIS, celebration of the American centennial in, 703. 
 PARKMAN, Dr., murder of, by Prof. Webster, 376. 
 PARTING of Gen. Washington with his army, 67. 
 
 of Washington with his mother, 86. 
 
 of President Monroe with Lafayette, 195. 
 
 of Gen. Lee and his army, 613. 
 
 PASSAGE MONEY, the first paid on a steamboat, 164. 
 PAYNE, triai, conviction and execution of, 627. 
 PEJIBERTON, Gen., Interview of, with Gen. Grant, 558. 
 
 surrender of Vicksburg by, 660. 
 PENNSYLVANIA, the great whiskey insurrection in, 105. 
 
 the great petroleum excitement in, 476. 
 PERRY, Commodore, his victory on Lake Erie, 162. 
 PETITION, the great debate upon the right of, 252. 
 
 by slaves, for the perpetuation of slavery, 255. 
 
 for the dissolution of the Union, by Massachusetts 
 citizens, 267. 
 
 PETROLEUM, the great excitement over, in 1869, 476. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 49 
 
 PETROLEUM, wells of. in Pennsylvania, 478. 
 
 welia of, in Kentucky, Ohio and Canada. 470. 
 
 origin and source of, opinions of Professors Dana 
 and Silllman as to the, 483. 
 
 the early knowledge and use of, by the Indians, 476. 
 PHILADELPHIA, the great exposition of 1876 at, 689. 
 PHENOMENA during the great gale of 1815, 179. 
 
 of the dark day of 1780, 42. 
 
 of the noonday total eclipse of 1S06, 135. 
 PHONOCJHAPII, the invention of the, by Edison, 681. 
 PIRATV of James D. Jeffers, alias Gibbs, '2. 
 PLOT of Benedict Arnold to deliver West Point, 49. 
 
 of Aaron Burr to establish an American empire, 143. 
 
 of Booth ami others to assassinate the chief offi- 
 cers of the government, 627. 
 
 POLITICAL DEBATE, the great, between Lincoln and 
 
 Douglas. 4<>'.i. 
 
 POPE OF ROME, official letter of, 679. 
 POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY, Douglas's advocacy of, 470. 
 
 labor organizations, purposes and progress of, 660. 
 
 education, progress of. in the United States. 667. 
 PORTER, Admiral, his victory at Fort Fisher, 597. 
 
 Gen. Fitz John, at Antietam, 540. 
 POTOMAC, the army of the. at the centennial, 693. 
 POTTER, John D., the revivalist, account of, 460. 
 PORTRAIT of Commodore John Paul Jones, 34. 
 
 of Gen. Benedict Arnold, 51. 
 
 of Lord Cornwallis, 61. 
 
 of George III of England. 71. 
 
 of President John Adams, 74. 
 
 of Mad Anthony Wayne, 95. 
 
 of St. Clair, 96. 
 
 of " Little Turtle," the Miami chief, 97. 
 
 of Eli Whitney, 102. 
 
 of David Bradford, 109. 
 
 of Gen. Henry Lee, 111. 
 
 of Martha Washington, 120. 
 
 of George Washington, as colonel, 123. 
 
 of George Washington, as general, 124. 
 
 of George Washington, as president, 124. 
 
 of Gen. Alexander Hamilton, 128. 
 
 of Aaron Burr, 129. 
 
 of Theodosia, daughter of Aaron Burr, 148. 
 
 of Robert Fulton, 151. 
 
 of Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry, 165. 
 
 of President William Henry Harrison, 170. 
 
 of President Andrew Jackson, 174. 
 
 of Gen. Lafayette. 188. 
 
 of Senator Henry Clay, 198. 
 
 of Senator John Randolph, 200. 
 
 of Senator Robert T. Hayne, 207. 
 
 of Senator Daniel Webster, 209. 
 
 of Joseph Smith, the Mormon, 216. 
 
 of Brigham Young, the Mormon, 218. 
 
 of Gibbs, the pirate, 224. 
 
 of Lawrence, the lunatic assailant of Jackson, 240. 
 
 of Prof. Morse, inventor of the telegraph, 24*. 
 
 of President John Quincy Adams, 254. 
 
 of Senator Thomas H. Benton, 265. 
 
 of Gen. John C. Fremont, 288. 
 
 of Capt. Alex. Slidell Mackenzie. 293. 
 
 of Midshipman Philip Spencer, the mutineer, 295. 
 
 of Rev. William Miller, the prophet, 313. 
 
 of President John Tyler, 316. 
 
 of Hon. Thos. W. Gilmer, secretary of the navy, 318. 
 
 of Hon. A. P. TTpshur, secretary of state, 320. 
 
 of Commodore R. F. Stockton, 322. 
 
 of Dr. T. C. Jackson, 326. 
 
 of Dr. Horace Wells, 326. 
 
 of Dr. William T. C. Morton, 326. 
 
 of Ellas Howe, inventor of the sewing machine, 334. 
 
 of Catherine Fox, the medium. 342. 
 
 of Margaretta Fox, the medium, 342. 
 
 I PORTRAIT of D. D. Home, the spiritualist, 34S. 
 
 of Cora L. V. Hatch, the spiritualist, 346. 
 
 of Andrew Jackson Davis, the spiritualist, ->4a. 
 
 of Judge Edmonds, the spiritualist, 345. 
 
 of President James K. Polk, 348. 
 
 of President Zachary Taylor, 349. 
 
 of Gen. Santa Anna, 350. 
 
 of Gen. Wiufleld Scott, 351. 
 
 of Lieut. \V. F. Lynch, the Dead Sea exyijrr, 356. 
 
 of John A. Sutler, the pioneer of California, 363. 
 
 of James W. Marshall, the gold discoverer, 365. 
 
 of Dr. Parkman, murdered by Prof. Webster, 378. 
 
 of Prof. Webster, murderer of Dr. Parkman, 3*0. 
 
 of Jenny Lind. 388. 
 
 of P. T. Barnum, 390. 
 
 of Geo. Steers, designer of the yacht America. 05. 
 
 of Louis Kossuth, the Hungarian exile, 413. 
 
 of Theodore Sedgwick, 423. 
 
 of Senator A. P. Butler of South Carolina, 439. 
 
 of Senator Charles Sumner, 441. 
 
 of Preston S. Brooks of South Carolina. 444. 
 
 group, of reat revival preachers, Jacob nnapp. 
 C. C. Finney, P. Cartwright, J. N. Maffitt, E. .N. Kirn. 
 
 E. P. Hammond, A. B. Earle, J. D. Potter, -iov. 
 of Dwight L. Moody and Jra D. Sankey, 464. 
 
 of Senator Stephen A. Douglas, 474. 
 
 of Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, 495. 
 
 of Major Robert Anderson, 503. 
 
 of Gen. G. T. Beauregard, 505. 
 
 of John S. Rarey, the horse tamer, 51 1. 
 
 of Gen. Irwin McDowell, 519. 
 
 of Gen. J. Johnston, 521. 
 
 of Com. Frank Buchanan, 528. 
 
 of Lieut. John L. Worden, 533. 
 
 of Gen. Geo. B. McClellan, 637. 
 
 of Gen. A. E. Burnside, 538. 
 
 of Gen. Stonewall Jackson, 540 
 
 of Gen. Joe Hooker, 541. 
 
 of Hon. Wm. H. Seward, 545. 
 
 of Hon. Edwin M. Stanton, 646. 
 
 of President Abraham Lincoln, 647. 
 
 of Gen. J. C. Pemberton, 666. 
 
 of Gen. J. B. McPherson, 859. 
 
 of Gen. G. G. Meade, 566. 
 
 of Gen. James Longstreet, 569. 
 
 of Capt. Raphael Semmes, 583. 
 
 of Capt. John A. Winslow, 685. 
 
 group, of Admirals Farragut, Porter, Duponi ano 
 Foote, 591. 
 
 of Gen. W. T. Sherman. 600. 
 
 of John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of Llnooln, 622. 
 
 of Sergeant Boston Corbett, 624. 
 
 of Cyrus W. Field, 631. 
 
 of Archbishop McCloskey, 676. 
 
 of Thomas A. Edison, 684. 
 
 of Emperor William of Germany, 707. 
 POTTER, John D., the revivalist account of, 460. 
 POVERTY of Fulton before his success, 154. 
 
 of Howe, at the time of his .nvention, 334. 
 PRAYER at the death-bed of Lincoln, 622. 
 
 prevalence of, during the religious revival, 1857, 467. 
 PREACHERS, eminent revival, of the century, 460. 
 PREACHING, peculiarities of the prophet Miller's, 312. 
 PREPARATIONS for the "last day" by theMillerites, 311. 
 PRESIDENTIAL MANSION in 1789 and in 1876, 88. 
 PRESIDENT, election of the first, in the U. S., 84. 
 
 unanimous choice of George Washington as, 88. 
 
 Washington's address in accepting the office of, 80. 
 
 Washington's Inauguration as, in New York, 88. 
 
 Monroe's parting with Lafayette, IBS. 
 
 Jackson's narrow escape from assassination, 236. 
 
 Tyler's narrow escape from death. 317. 
 
 Fillmore's private reception of Jenny Lind, 398 
 
750 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PMSIDENT Fillmore's reception of Kossuth, 418. 
 
 Buchanan's reception of the Japanese embassy, 488. 
 
 Buchanan's reception of the Prince of Wales, 496. 
 
 Lincoln, assassination of, by J. \Vilkes Booth, 620. 
 
 Grant with Emperor of Brazil at centennial, 692. 
 PRICE of Arnold's treason, 48. 
 
 PRINCE OF WALES, the visit of the, to America, 493. 
 
 letter of President Buchanan inviting the, 493. 
 
 letter of Queen Victoria concerning, 41)4. 
 
 hi.- reception on the American boundary line, 494. 
 
 his receptions in Chicago, St. Louis and Cin., 494, 495. 
 
 his visit to the tomb of Washington, 496. 
 
 his visits to Richmond, Baltimore and Phila., 496. 
 
 the unexpected international embrace of the, 497. 
 
 the grand balls in honor of the, 498, 499. 
 
 the military reception at West Point of the, 498. 
 
 at Albany, Springfield and Boston, 499. 
 
 his appreciation of the American ladies, 600. 
 PRINCES OF JAPAN, visit of the, to the U.S., 488. 
 PRINCETON, the terrible accident on board the, 315. 
 PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, the, 544. 
 
 the most important words in, 547. 
 
 Lincoin : s estimate of the importance of, 548. 
 PROPHECIES, scriptural, interpreted by Miller, 307. 
 
 Q- 
 
 QUEEN, interview of John Adams with the British, 76. 
 
 Victoria, visit of, to the yacht America, 411. 
 letter of, to President Buchanan, 494. 
 
 the applause of, at Karey's exhibition of horse 
 
 taming, 513. 
 
 the contribution of, to centennial exhibition, 696. 
 
 QUARREL of Aaron Burr with Alexander Hamilton, 130. 
 QUELLING of the great whiskey insurrection of 1794 by 
 
 United States troops, 110. 
 
 QUESTION OF SUPREMACY, between the Indians and 
 the whites, Gen. Jackson's settlement of the, 97. 
 
 R. 
 
 RACE, the great international yacht, description of, 403. 
 RAILROAD to the Pacific, construction of the, 637. 
 RAILWAY, amount of, built in the half century, 645. 
 
 history of the progress of the, in the U. S., 646. 
 
 the first locomotive on an American, 648. 
 
 the European. 650. 
 
 the Metrooolitan elevated, 652. 
 
 RAIN, the gauge of, during the great gale of 1815, 185. 
 RANDOLPH, John, his duel with Henry Clay, 196. 
 RAKE v. John S., the great horse-tamer, account of, 609. 
 
 his feats in America and Europe, 510. 
 
 Victoria's applause, at the exhibition of, 513. 
 
 his method of taming, 515. 
 RATIFICATION of the constitution by the states, 83. 
 
 of the fifteenth constitutional amendment, 552. 
 RAVAGES of the cholera and yellow fever in U. S., 368. 
 READING the original declaration of independence to 
 
 the army in 1776, 27. 
 
 the original declaration of independence in Phila- 
 delphia in 1876, 699. 
 
 REBELLION, the great Southern, the opening act of, 601. 
 
 the closing scene of, 612. 
 
 the first and last battle of, fought on the same 
 man's land, 613. 
 
 RECEPTION of Lafayette by President Monroe, 191. 
 
 of Jenny Llnd by President Fillmore, 393. 
 
 of Kossuth by the United States, 412. 
 
 (Tand military, of Kossuth in New York, 417. 
 
 of th Japanese embassy by Pres. Buchanan, 487. 
 
 of the Prince of Wales by Pres. Buchanan, 496. 
 RD JACKET, interview of, with Lafayette, 194. 
 REFLECTION of the great comet in the ocean, 303. 
 
 REFORMATION, the great temperance, of 1?40. 276. 
 
 its origin, apostles, and disciples, 277. 
 REGATTA, the great international yacht, at Cowes, 403. 
 REIGN of the vigilance committee in California, 395. 
 RELIGIOUS REVIVAL, the great, of 11-57, 456. 
 
 its striking moral results, 464. 
 
 REMARKABLE coincidence of the civil war, 613. 
 
 exception of a single house from the great confla- 
 gration of Chicago, 653. 
 
 RENO, Gen., death of, at Antietam, 541. 
 
 REPLY of John Paul Jones to British commander, 34, 
 
 of George III. to John Adams, 74. 
 
 of Gen. McClellan to Gen. Burnside's request fo 
 reinforcements at Antietam, 540. 
 
 REPORTER, Geo. W. Smalley, the, at Antietam, 542. 
 REPOSSESSION of Fort Sumter by U. S. governm't, 615. 
 REPUBLIC, the birth of the new, in 1776, 25. 
 
 centennial celebration in 1876 of the, 689. 
 RESACA DE LA PALMA, Gen. Taylor's victory at, 348. 
 RESIDENCE of Lafayette, 181. 
 
 of President Lincoln at Springfield, 111., 623. 
 RESIGNATION of command by Washington, 66. 
 
 and re-election to congress of Preston S. Brooks, 444 
 RESOLUTION of independence, Richard Henry Lee's, 21 
 
 of censure of Jackson, expunging of the, 252. 
 RESTORATION of the U. S. flag to Fort Sumter, 614. 
 REVIVAL, the great religious, of 1857, 456. 
 REVIVALISTS, the great, 404. 
 
 REYNOLDS, Gen., at Gettysburg, 564. 
 RICHARDSON, Gen., at Bull Kun, 518. 
 RICHMOND, the fall of, 607. 
 RIGHT OF PETITION, the struggle for the, 252. 
 
 the eleven days' debate upon the, 261. 
 
 RINGING OF THE BELL, July 4, 1776, 25. 
 RISE and progress of the Mormons, 214. 
 RIOT, the great whiskey, in Pennsylvania, 105. 
 " ROCHESTER KNOCKINGS," account of the, 340. 
 ROCK OIL, early knowledge of, by the Indians, 476. 
 
 the great excitement of 1859 upon discovery of, 478. 
 ROCKY MOUNTAINS, Fremont's expedition to the, 285. 
 
 the national flag planted on highest peak of the, 287. 
 
 animal life at the summit of the, 287. 
 RUN ON A BANK during the panic of 1857, 447. 
 
 S. 
 
 SALT LAKE CITY, description of, 221. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO, the crimes of the "hounds" in, 36 
 
 the reign of the vigilance committee in, 396. 
 SANITARY FAIR, Lincoln's contribution to the, 552. 
 SANKEY, Ira D., revivalist, beneficent services of, 464. 
 SANTA ANNA, victory of Gen. Tnylor over, 349. 
 SAVANNAH, Ga., Gen. Sherman's capture of, 605. 
 SCHEME to deliver Wext Point to the British, 49. 
 
 to make Washington king, 66. 
 
 of Aaron Burr to found an American empire, 143. 
 SCENE at the death-bed of Washington, 122. 
 
 of the Burr and Hamilton duel at Weehawken, i3L 
 
 of Fulton's first trial of his steamboat, 163. 
 
 of the great earthquake in the West, 158. 
 
 at the earthquake in San Francisco, 161. 
 
 at the battle of Lake Erie, 167. 
 
 at the battle of New Orleans, 176. 
 
 during the great flood of 1815, 179. 
 
 during the great September gale, 180. 
 
 during the great whirlwind, 183. 
 
 at landing of Lafayette at the Battery, N. T., 186. 
 
 in the great debate of Webster and Hayne, 212. 
 
 in congress during the speech of John QniiieJ 
 Adams on the right of petition, 258. 
 
 in Fremont's tour to the Rocky mountains, 289. 
 
 at the loss of the Arctic, 433. 
 
 at the combat of the Merrimac and Monitor. 531. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 751 
 
 5CXNE at signing of the emancipation proclamation, 549. 
 
 at Ford's theater at the assassination of Lincoln, 020. 
 
 at the completion of the Pacific Railroad, <>41. 
 SCHOOLS, system of, in the U. S., progress of the, 667. 
 SCHTRZ, Carl, centennial oration at St. Louis by, 702. 
 SCIENCF, the four miracles of, 680. 
 
 SCOTT, Gen., in the halls of the Montezumas, 346. 
 
 at the head of the loyal army in the civil war, 508. 
 Scot; ROE of the cholera anil yellow fever, 368. 
 
 SEA, the Dead, Lynch's expedition to, 354. 
 
 SKAT of goverment, contest as to the location of the, 113. 
 
 establishment of the, in New York iu 1789, 88. 
 - transferring of the, to Washington in 1800, 116. 
 SECESSION', the first gun of, 501. 
 
 the last battle of. 012. 
 
 SECTIONAL CONTEST on location of the capital, 113. 
 SECOND ADVENT excitement of 1H43, the, 307. 
 
 symbolical illustration of prophecies as to the, 309. 
 
 SEDGWICK, Gen., at Gettysburg, 564. 
 SEMMES, Capt. Raphael, career of, with Alabama, 581. 
 SEPTEMBER GALE of 1815, the memorable. 178. 
 SEKAi'is, capture of the, by John Paul Jones, 36. 
 SEWAKD. William H., murderous assault upon, 627. 
 SEWING MACHINE, invention of, by Howe, 322. 
 
 the old and the new, 336. 
 
 SHERMAN. Gen. W. T., grand march to the sea of, 598. 
 
 the army of, in the march, 602. 
 
 his Christmas gift to President Lincoln, t>05. 
 SHOOTING STAHB, wonderful display in 1833 of, 228. 
 SIEGE OF VICKSBURG by Gen. Grant, 557. 
 SIERKA NEVADA, Fremont's exploration of the, 286. 
 SIGNING of the declaration of independence, 31. 
 
 of the constitution by the delegates, 82. 
 
 the pledge in the great reformation of 1840, 279. 
 
 of the emancipation proclamation, 549. 
 SILLIMAN, Prof., his theory as to petroleum. 483. 
 SINKING of the Cumberland with flag flying, 528. 
 SLAVERY, petition to congress, by slaves, for the per- 
 petuation of, 255. 
 
 SLAVES, the emancipation of the, by President Lin- 
 coln's proclamation, 544. 
 
 the jubilation of the emancipated, 551. 
 SMALLEV, Geo. W., war correspondent of the Tribune, 
 
 gallantry of, at Antietam, 543. 
 SMITH, Joseph, the Mormon leader, history of, 215. 
 SOLAR ECLIPSE, the great total, midday, 134. 
 SOLDIERS' MONUMENT at Gettysburg, 571. 
 SOMERS, U. S. brig, mutiny on board the, 290. 
 SOVEREIGNS OF INDUSTRY, objects of the, 666. 
 SOVEREIGNTY, popular, great debate upon, between 
 
 Lincoln and Douglas, 469. 
 SPANGLER, trial of, for conspiracy 627. 
 SPEECH, farewell, of Gen. Washington, to his army, 63. 
 
 of Washington, in resigning his commission, 68. 
 
 of John Adams, to George III., 74. 
 
 of George III. to John Adams, 74. 
 
 of Franklin, on the federal constitution, 81. 
 
 of Daniel Webster, in reply to Hayne, 209. 
 
 of John Q. Adams, on the right of petition, 264. 
 
 of Gen. Grant, at the centennial exhibition, 690. 
 
 of the Mikado of Japan to President Bnchanan,488. 
 
 of Pres. Buchanan to the Japanese embassy, 488. 
 SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS, and table tippings, 340. 
 SPIRITUALISM, the rise and progress of, 341. 
 
 theories of Agassiz.Faradiy and Herschel,as to,343. 
 
 the variety of phenomena of, 344. 
 
 the adherents and literature of, 345. 
 
 Judge Edmond's classification of mediums of, 345. 
 SQUADRON COMBAT, America and England matched 
 
 in, 163. 
 
 STATE STREET, Boston, during hard times of 1857, 461. 
 STATE AVENUE at the Philadelphia exposition, 702. 
 ST. CLAIB, jefeat of, by " Little Turtle," 96. 
 
 ST. Lons. visit of Prince Albert to. 494. 
 ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL, N. Y., dedication ot. 6Mi. 
 STANTON, Secretary, at the death bed of Lincoln, al. 
 STARS, the great shower of, iu 1833, 228. 
 " STARS AND STRIPES " on the summit of the Uocky 
 Mountains, 287. 
 
 on the halls of the Montezumas, 353. 
 
 STEAM, first application of, for navigation, 150. 
 STEAMBOAT, the first on the Hudson, 162. 
 
 the first on the Ohio, 155. 
 
 STEAMER ARCTIC, loss of, by collision at sea, 428. 
 STEEKS, Geo., the designer of the yacht America, 405. 
 STOCKTON, Commodore, the explosion of the monster 
 
 gun of, 315. 
 
 STORMING of Chapultepec, 347. 
 
 STORRS, E. S., centennial oration in New York by, 702. 
 STRUGGLE, for the right of petition in congress, 252. 
 SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER of 1833, 228. 
 
 at Boston, 228. 
 
 at Niagara Falls. 230. 
 
 on the Mississippi, 233. 
 
 SUCCESSFUL laying of the telegraphic cable across the 
 
 Atlantic ocean, 630. 
 SUDDEN appearance of a great comet in the skies at 
 
 noonday, 300. 
 SUICIDE of John C. Colt, the murderer of Adams, in 
 
 prison, 385. 
 
 SUMMIT of the Rocky Mountains, Fremont upon, 287. 
 SUMNEII, Charles, assault of Preston S. Brooks upon, 
 
 in the United States senate, 437. 
 SUMTER, Fort, bombardment of, 501. 
 
 gallant defense of, by Gen. Anderson, 603. 
 
 the fall of, 608. 
 
 the re-possession of, by the United States, 615. 
 St'RRATT, John H., trial and escape from convictioa 
 
 of, for conspiracy, 628. 
 
 Mrs., execution by hanging of, for conspiracy, 628. 
 SURRENDER, of the first British to an American man- 
 of-war, 32. 
 
 of Lord Cornwallis to Gen. Washington, 65. 
 
 of Gen. Lee to Gen. Grant, 612. 
 
 SUTTER'S MILLS, Cal., the discovery of gold at, 362. 
 SWORD of Washington, 63. 
 
 of Lafayette, 190. 
 
 SYMBOLIC STATUE of America, 117. 
 
 SYMBOLICAL ILLUSTRATIONS of the Second Advent 
 
 prophecies, 309. 
 SYMBOLS of Co-operative Labor Organizations, 662. 
 
 TABLE TIPPINGS, and spirit knockings.accounts of, 340. 
 TAKING THE OATH, Washington, at inauguration, 89. 
 TAMING of wild horses, Rarey's method of, 517. 
 TARRING and feathering, in the Pennsylvania whiskey 
 
 insurrection, 106. 
 TAYLOR, Bayard, the ode at the centennial by, 690. 
 
 General Zachary, his victories in Mexico, 348. 
 TEACHINGS of the Mormon Bible, 216, 
 TECUMSEH, General Harrison's victory over, 170. 
 TELEGRAM, the first, 249. 
 
 TELEGRAPH, the electric, Morse's invention of, 244. 
 
 description of, 245. 
 
 the debate upon, and trial of, in congress, 247. 
 
 Miss Ellsworth's message, the first, over, 249. 
 
 TELEGRAPHIC CABLE, the Atlantic, laying the, 629. 
 
 the first message through, 634. 
 
 the messages through, between Queen Victoria and 
 the President, 634. 
 
 TELEGRAPHIC INSTRUMENT, the original, 248. 
 TELEPHONE, invention of the, by Professor Bell, 68i. 
 
 description of the, 684. 
 
 TEMPESANCE, Gen. Washington's testimony as to. 280. 
 
752 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 TEMPERANCE REFORMATION, the great, of 1840, 276. 
 
 its origin and originators, 277. 
 
 the results achieved by, L'80. 
 
 Father Mathew's apostleship for, in 1849, 281. 
 TEMPLE, the Mormon, ail. 
 
 .TENNESSEE, Buchanan's monster ram, 596. 
 TERMINATION of tho war of 1812 with England, 176. 
 
 of the great civil war, 612. 
 
 TERMS OF SURRENDER, of Cornwallis, at Yorktown, 58. 
 
 at Vicksburg, unconditional, 539. 
 
 accorded to General Lee, by General Grant, 612. 
 
 TERRIBLE crisis, of 1857, in the financial world, 447. 
 
 disaster, at sea, 429. 
 
 earthquake, of 1811, 156. 
 
 explosion, on the Princeton, 315. 
 
 fire at Chicago, 653. 
 
 gale, of 1815, 179. 
 
 scourge, of the Asiatic cholera, 368. 
 
 TERROR of the Indians, upon the appearance of the 
 great comet, 301. 
 
 of the people of the West, during the great earth- 
 quake, 158. 
 
 reign of, during the whiskey insurrection, 107. 
 TERRY General at Fort Fisher, 597. 
 
 THEATER Ford's, scene in, at the assassination of Pres- 
 ident Lincoln, 620. 
 THE FIRST consecration of an American cardinal, 676. 
 
 election of president of the United States, 85. 
 
 execution in California, 396. 
 
 minister plenipotentiary to England, 71. 
 
 naval victory of the United States, 32. 
 
 occupation of a foreign capital by U. S. army, 353. 
 
 oriental embassy, 485. 
 
 squadron combat of the U. S. navy, 163. 
 
 steamboat in American waters, 150. 
 
 steam railway, 646. 
 
 telegraphic message over an established line, 249. 
 
 telegraphic message through Atlantic cable, 634. 
 
 U'Hfc GREAT cathedral, St. Patrick's, in New York, 675. 
 comet of 1H43, 300. 
 
 debate of Webster and Hayne, 205. 
 
 exhibition of 1853, in Sew York, 421. 
 
 exposition of 1876, at Philadelphia, 689. 
 
 financial crisis, of 1857, 447. 
 
 gold fever, of 1848, 360. 
 
 petroleum excitement, of 1859, 476. 
 
 religious awakening, of 1857, 476. 
 
 temperance reformation, of 1840, 276. 
 
 tragedy of the century, 617. 
 
 uprising of the North, of 1861, 501. 
 
 yacht race, the victory of the U. S. in, 403. 
 
 THE GREATEST New Year's present of the century, 547. 
 THE " LITTLE MONITOR," at Hampton roads, 526. 
 THt NATIONAL GRANGE movement, history of, 660. 
 THE.ODOSIA, Aaron Burr's daughter, devotion of, 148. 
 
 her mysterious fate, 149. 
 
 THEORIES, of Professors Dana and Silliman as to the 
 oripin and source of petroleum, 483. 
 
 ot Agassiz, Faraday and Herschel as to spiritual- 
 ism, 343. 
 
 THREK DAYS' BATTLE at Gettysburg, 563. 
 
 TICKETS, to jenny Lind's first concerts, sale of, 390, 391. 
 
 TIDES, remarkable effect of the great gale of 1815, 
 
 upon the, 180. 
 TIPPECANOE, Gen. William Henry Harrison's victory 
 
 at, 97. 
 TOMB of Lafayette,195. 
 
 of Washington, at Mount Vernon, 125. 
 Lafayette's visit to the, 194. 
 
 visit of the Prince of Wales to the, 496. 
 
 " TOMMY " Japanese, the petting of, by the ladies of the 
 
 United States, 491. 
 TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE at midday, of 1806, 134. 
 
 I TOUR, the United States, of the Prince ot Wales, 483. 
 
 musical, of Jenny Liud, iu the United States, 386. 
 
 of Kossuth, in the United States, 412. 
 
 of Lafayette in the United States, 186, 
 TRAVELING on the first steam railway, 646. 
 
 by the first steamboat, 1S2. 
 
 TREASON, of Major-general Benedict Arnold, 48. 
 
 of Aaron Burr, 14G. 
 TREATING with the Indians, 91. 
 
 TREATY OF PEACE and commerce with Japan, 485. 
 TRIAL of Aaron Burr, for conspiracy, 148. 
 
 of Prof. Webster, for murder of Dr. Parkman, 380. 
 
 of John H. Surratt, Mrs. Surratt, Atzerodt, Harold 
 and Payne, for conspiracy, 628. 
 
 TRIUMPHAL JOURNEY of Washington to New York to 
 . be inaugurated President, 85. 
 TUNISIAN TENT at the centennial, 704, 
 Two HUNDRED YEARS of education, 667. 
 TYCOON OF JAPAN, letter of the, to President Bu- 
 chanan, 489. 
 
 U. 
 
 UNANIMOUS ELECTION of General Washington to the 
 
 Presidency, 85. 
 " UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER," how Gen. U. S. Grant 
 
 won the title, 559. 
 
 UNCONTROLLABLE PANIC at Bull Kun, 521. 
 UNEXPECTED EMBRACE of the Prince of Wales, 497. 
 UNFURLING OF THE UNITED STATES FLAG, Fremont, 
 
 on the summit of the Kocky Mountains, 287. 
 
 Gen. Scott, from the halls of the Montezumas, 353. 
 
 UNION, Daniel Webster's apostrophe to the, 211. 
 
 petition in congress for the dissolution of the, by 
 Massachusetts citizens, 257. 
 
 UNION SQUARE, N. Y., centennial display in. 697. 
 UNITED STATES, John Adams, at the British Court as 
 
 first ambassador of the, 74. 
 UNPARALLELED gale, the, of 1816, 178. 
 
 conflagration of the century, the, 663. 
 UNPRECEDENTED SPECTACLE in a legislative body, 437. 
 UNUSUAL APPEARANCE of the water during themyste- 
 
 rious dark day of 1780, 42. 
 
 USE of rock oil by the early Indian tribes, 476. 
 USES of petroleum, the various, 484. 
 UTAH, migrations of the Mormons to, 220. 
 
 V. 
 
 VAPORS, peculiar, during the dark day of 1780, 42. 
 VARIOUS effects of the inhalation of ether, 329. 
 
 uses of rock oil by the early tribes of Indiana, 476. 
 
 uses of petroleum, 484. 
 
 VELOCITY of the falling meteors in the great shower 
 of stare of 1833, 232. 
 
 VERA CRUZ, Gen. Scott's victory at, 348. 
 
 VESSEL, burning of a merchant, by the Alabama, 581. 
 
 VESSELS, in the streets of Providence, during the 
 great gale of 1815, 179. 
 
 VESTA, the collision of the, with the Arctic, at noon- 
 day, in mid-ocean, 428. 
 
 VICKSBURG, the campaign against, 554. 
 
 Gen. Grant's famous terms of surrender to the 
 garrison of, 569. 
 
 VICTOR EMANUEL, the centennial message of, 705. 
 VICTORIA, her visit to the yacht America. 411. 
 
 her letter to President Buchanan, 444. 
 
 her thanks to the people of the U. S. for courtesies 
 to Prince Albert, 500. 
 
 her applause at Rarey's horse taming exhibition m 
 London, 513. 
 
 VICTORIOUS RACE of the yacht America, in the great in- 
 ternational regatta, 403. 
 VICTORY, first United States naval, 32. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 753 
 
 VICTORY of Commodore John Paul Jones, over the Se- 
 rapis, 35. 
 
 the crowning, at Yorktown, SI. 
 
 and defeat in the Indian wars, 93. 
 
 on lake and land by Terry and Harrison, 167. 
 
 of Gen. Jackson, at New Orleans, 176. 
 
 of Gens. Taylor and Scott, in Mexico, 350. 
 
 of the Confederates at Bull Kun, 523. 
 
 of Grant at Vicksburg, 557. 
 
 of Gen. Meade at Gettysburg, 5C7. 
 
 of the Kearsarge over the Alabama, 687. 
 
 of ! arragut at New Orleans, M9. 
 in Mobile Bay, "iiU. 
 
 of Porter at Fort Kisher, 597. 
 
 of Sherman at Savannah, 605. 
 
 of 'Jrantat Richmond, 007. 
 
 VIOILAXVK COMMITTEE, reign of the. in California, 395. 
 VISIT of Father Mathew to the United States in the 
 tause of temperance, 2M. 
 - to the United States, of the Prince of Wales, 493. 
 
 of Doin Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, 690. 
 
 of Lafayette, in 1i4, 1*6. 
 
 of Kossuth, the Hungarian exile, 412. 
 
 of the Japanese Princes, 4F5. 
 
 VISITS of Moody and Sankey to the" "ions cities, 4G7. 
 VOTING for President the first, 85. 
 Vow, of President l.incnin, as to pro-'iaiming freedom 
 to the slaves, if Lee should be driven from Pa., 648. 
 
 W. 
 
 WAGER, the great, on the yacht -America, 404. 
 WAGXEI.'S centennial inauguration umn-h, G90. 
 WALKS. Prince of, his tour in the United States, 493. 
 WALL STREET, X. Y., scenes in, duringthegreat panic 
 
 of 1C57, J49. 
 WARD, J.Q. A. .his monument to the discovery of ether 
 
 a* an anesthetic, 330. 
 WARFARE, ocean, the effect upon the method of, by 
 
 the introduction of the iron-clads. 534. 
 WARNING of Washington to St. Clair, 5. 
 WASHINGTON, Gen., appointment of, to the command 
 
 of the continental army, 61. 
 
 receiving his commission from congress, 65. 
 
 taking command of the army at Cambridge, 65. 
 
 record of his generalship, C5. 
 
 his indignant refusal of American kingship, 66. 
 
 his farewell address to his army, G7. 
 
 his return of his commission to congress, 68. 
 
 his unanimous election as president, 85. 
 
 the last words of the mother of, to, 85. 
 
 the ovations to, on his journey to inauguration, 86. 
 
 ceremonies of the inauguration of, in N. Y., 89. 
 
 his prophecy upon signing the constitution, 82. 
 
 his wrath, at the defeat of St. Clalr, 95. 
 
 his suppression of the whiskey insurrection, 107. 
 
 his influence in locating the national capital, 114. 
 
 laying of the corner stone of the capitol by, 116. 
 
 his death bed and last words, 122. 
 
 the funeral obsequies of, l'J3. 
 
 the eulogies of, by the crowned heads and great 
 generals of Europe, lL'5. 
 
 the tomb of, visit of Lafayette to. 191. 
 
 the visit of the heir to the British throne to, 496. 
 
 the city of, sectional contest over the establishing 
 the seat of government at. 113. 
 
 transferring of the archives to, US. 
 
 WASHINGTON-IAN TEMPERANCE SOCIETY, origin of 
 the name of the. 27*. 
 
 WATERS of the Dead Sea. Lynch's examination of, 359. 
 
 WAYNE, Mad Anthony, defeat of the Indians by, 93. 
 
 WEBSTER, Daniel, his oration at the laying of the cor- 
 ner stone of the capitoi extension. 118. 
 
 WEBSTER, Daniel, his great debate with Hayne, J06 
 
 effect of the speech of, against Hayne, 210. 
 
 his eulogy of Massachusetts, ^09. 
 
 his apostrophe to the Union, 211. 
 
 his impromptu duet with Jenny I.iml, 393. 
 
 his encomium of Kossuth, i !>. 
 
 Prof., the murder of Dr. Parkman by, 376. 
 singular detection of, 378. 
 
 hardihood on trial of, 381. 
 
 firm denial and subsequent confession of, 382. 
 
 WELCOME to Lafayette by the people of the U. S., 190. 
 
 to Kossuth by the citizens of New York, 417. 
 
 to the Prince of Wales by the American people, 498. 
 WELLS, DR. W., his claim to the discovery of ether as 
 
 a:) anesthetic, 326. 
 
 WEST POINT, plot of Benedict Arnold to deliver, to 
 the British, 48. 
 
 appearance of, in 1780, 52. 
 
 the grand military reception of the Prince of 
 
 Wales at, 498. 
 
 WHIKLW IND, the great, of 1815, 178. 
 WHISKEY INSURRECTION, the great Penn., 106. 
 
 causes of, lite. 
 
 repression of, by the United States army. 111. 
 
 Lincoln's proscription of, to the generals, 662. 
 WHITNEY, Eli, the early history of, 98. 
 
 how a bright woman helped him, 99. 
 
 the Invention of the cotton gin by, 100. 
 
 the discouragements and final success of, 103. 
 WIIITTIER, John G , centennial poem writttn by, 690. 
 WILCOX, Gen., at Bull Kun, 517. 
 
 WILLIAM. Emperor of Germany, his congratulatory 
 centennial letter to Pres. Grant, 745. 
 
 WINSLOW, Capt., in command of the Kearsarge, sink- 
 iag the Alabama, W6. 
 
 WiXTHRor, Robert C., the centennial oration at Bos- 
 ton by, 7(Hi. 
 
 WOMAN'S PAVILION at the centennial exposition, 703. 
 
 WONDERFUL dark day of 17fO. account of the, 39. 
 
 gateway in the Kocky mountains, 286. 
 
 meteoric shower of 1833, 228. 
 
 WORD the most important, in the proclamation of 
 
 emancipation, 517. 
 WORDS, last, of Gen. Washington, 119. 
 
 last written, of President Lincoln, 619, 
 
 WOULD, the Millerites waiting the expected destruc- 
 tion of the, 307. 
 
 WORLD'S FAIR, the great of 1853, in New York, 421. 
 
 WORDEN, Lieut. John S., exploits of, with the " Little 
 Monitor," 632. 
 
 WRATH OF WASHINGTON at the defeat of St. Clair, 95. 
 
 Y. 
 
 YACHT AMERICA, triumph of the, at the great Interna- 
 tional race, 403. 
 
 Queen Victoria's inspection of the, 411. 
 
 YALE COLLEGE in 1784, 668. 
 
 grounds around, 672. 
 
 growth of, 673. 
 
 YEAR, the centennial, celebrations of, 689. 
 YELLOW FEVER, its visitations upon the U. S., 368. 
 
 the ravages of. 369. 
 
 YORKTOWN, surrender of Cornwallis at, 55. 
 
 junction of the American nd French forces at, 66. 
 
 letter of King George as to the defeat at, 60. 
 YOUNG. Brigham. the Mormon leader, history of, 220. 
 YOCNO MEIOS, voluntary generalship at Bull Kun, 624. 
 
 ZEAL of Lafayette for the American cause, 65, 186. 
 ZOUAVES, the New York, their dash and daring at Boll 
 Bun. 622. 
 
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