EVENTS THE PROPHECY OF OUR NATIONAL GREATNESS. "I SCO is established rci^n; cities and men, Numerous as sands upon the oeeati shore, And empires rising \vherc the sun descends! The Ohio soon shall e<1ide byinany a town Of Note! and where the Mississippi s stream, Bv forests shaded, new runs sweeping on. Nations shall oYow.and slates, not less in fame Than Oeeee and Rome of old! We,too,shall boast Otir Scipios, Solons, Cato.s, .. sag^es, chiefs, That in the l.ipse of time yet dormant lie, Waiting the joyous hour of life and light." Philip Treiieau, the American Poet in I77i. ITS FULFILMENT. n/u- fu/rtimr i f- ffH.nt<u/itnf nt<talun in it,)uvmttfi,ti tn ch had/mar than doubled evflty h ti iftttf\t, but in // iitrini.H rf- /t.) fiiynil(itit>n, n ln rh /. rim inni / tilntil>li t/iiin ffiMfiiH/.tilrrr /></.> f+r/i .n\ /mtfj nurf /thin .Jmi/f-lfilrriii, /line /Hiir.irtH ir //*///, -tii.*lrifi,rrn tiiw.inH n /fnin finnifi , f//H// .> ftrtfiiifrf fi ffH i usu huiH/int/ni/lirii,) <it fhc /W"/>//r <rnturif: ft/if/, f>ri/{>rt(/// wr/Hitifini.itr f>c,tnit.>fH n<fr,mittKfniiN/ct/r,/nifJ trmftv-Hilrimi,iu ifaii .H tirw .), i/tft.) w/ifici fic.t iMH/inif.t tyi/ni1i/nitir.),irhfif ) (/ffrt W /f///rsH/i//f>/ir( f//r/." >w frirtit fr ffri</euf, frft/n /tHxtntriifi totiwuHtrwi, /hwi. Mtmtic to fticijH ; Jrrin /mit / * llfiiiif fi tfn .ft lfffii fiff/r, tticfitft/ir {>fr/ii.)(ftr/ifnwitrif, ifwi/ij /niH/riirf,U /,) r/rvnjHj/icr tiwf n tf/it (tw//nw<: .i/itill tfiiit/r ft, .)fMillltcfny(>/H( Ixi/tmlnnif uwvls Unit niiihrtirf mult/ ilrrijf.nrttnit my trmtfur \wrlw twififfrf. inniwjtiry cf the I lrr/f milieu ofjmfywttfafce (itiJ/ffiifli/J, fi.)finrii fi/r rH/fH>/>, twy/HSt tif/ //if r fin it tnilh.t cf flint iinnnnifil, tlatjmi f- lifirta; mjiytriff nftinic n >it/r 1 iitftitrjt iilow.tttf ttir 7b.)// " f/rr /h J/f // /// fr>//Sf t OUE FIRST CENTURY: BEING A POPULAR DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAITURE OF THE OF PERPETUAL INTEREST IN THE HISTORY OF OUR COUNTRY, Political, Military, Mechanical, Social, Scientific and Commercial: EMBRACING ALSO DELINEATIONS OF ALL THE GREAT HISTORIC CHARACTERS CELEBRATED IN THE ANNALS OF THE REPUBLIC ; Men of Heroism, Statesmanship, Genius, Oratory, Adven ture and Philanthropy. By n. M. DE^EISTS, Member of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Author of Appleton s Commercial and Business Cyclopedia, Lives of Washington, Napoleon, and Wellington, $~c., frc. Splendidly Illustrated with Several Hundred Plates, Portraits, and other Embellishments, PUBLISHED BY C. A. NICHOLS & CO., SPBINGFIELD MASS. HUGH HERON, CHICAGO, ILL. 1879. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by C. A. NICHOLS & Co. In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. THE CLARK W. BRYAH COMPANY, ELKCTROTYPER, PRINTERS AXD BINDERS, SPRIMOriKLD, MASS. "179 LA I "Columbia, great Republic! thou art blest, While Empires drop, and Monarchs sink to rest. GLORY OF THE AMERICAN" CENTURY. BAND and impressive, beyond all that is yet written in the Volume of Human History, will be that transcendent Chapter, which shall unfold, in philosophic narrative, the birth and onward march, in greatness and power, of the Republic of the United States, the completion of its FIRST CENTURY of mighty national development in Political Liberty and Free Civilization, and the momentous relations of that development to the interest, progress, and destiny of mankind. A task so stately and magnificent might fitly engage the pen of a Bancroft, a Motley, or other historiographer of kindred fame ; for, surely, no power of mental grasp or of historic portrayal inferior to theirs, could adequately set forth the resplendent advances and triumphs of HUMAN ILLUMINATION wide streaming, wondrous, beneficent, energizing, on this western continent, and under the inspiration of 8 DEDICATION. liberal institutions, during the Century of the American Republic ; a country which, when it first clothed itself with the pre rogatives of sovereignty, numbered but thirteen feeble States, with three million inhabitants, occupying the small familiar strip of territory lined on one side by the Atlantic ocean, and on the other by the Alleghany ridge, but whose vast out lying boundaries are now watered also by the great Pacific, the gulf of California, and the Arctic ocean, comprising, in fact, a continental chain of zones, sweeping, in hemispheric magnitude, from the moun tain crests of eternal snows to the region of perpetual flowers ; its census of popu lation, too, with similar strides of amazing augmentation, rolling up a free, intelli gent, and powerful citizenship of forty round millions ! Never before has the world witnessed so superlative an illustration of the capac ity of man for self government ; never before has the Glory of Man, in his unre- pressed enthusiasm and unfettered activi ties, been confirmed by achievements so splendid and enduring. Sharing, in full measure, the patriotic pride of a birthright and nationality so exalted, and of associations so illustrious, the conscious sentiment of every American bosom, I DEDICATE THIS WORK TO MY ENLIGHT ENED FELLOW COUNTRYMEN IK THE NEARLY TWO-SCORE FRATERNAL COM MONWEALTHS OF OUR GLORIOUS UNION, E Pluribus Unum I "ALL FOR EACH, AND EACH FOR ALL." Our common interest in these marvel ous recitals of the nation s Wonderfully varied Life during the Centennial Era, now just completed, is without distinction of party, section, or calling; and our con gratulatory lot it is, under the gracious blessing of Heaven, to boast of a career more renowned, diversified in character, and more boundless in its results to the human race, than that of the most com manding Empires of the Past, of what ever name or period. These memorials of that unparalleled and majestic drama possess, too, many of them, an historical significance which is not limited to the past, nor to the gener ation whose fortune it is to rehearse them at this dividing threshold, between their occurrence and their commemoration ; their influence will reach forward to the setting of the sun of time! VAIN PREDICTIONS OF THE ENEMIES OF FREE GOVERNMENT. Contemplating, with but the briefest survey, the data exhibiting our prodigious national growth, scarcely can it be realized, at the present day, that, even after the lapse of successive decades from the na tion s birth, there were prophets of evil omen across the water, the devotees of monarchical rule and the enemies of free in stitutions, who oracularly predicted that the American Republic was but a tran sient experiment a mere political will-o - the-wisp an aerial edifice, which a few rough storms would shatter and dissipate; that it would, indeed, prove like Jonah s gourd, which grew up in a night, and per ished in a day ! Statesmen of no less sagacity than Rus sell, Macaulay, Brougham, and, still later, even that astute philosopher, Mr. Carlyle, heralded with blind and self -conceited as sumption, the downfall of our nation, the same nation, of whose geographical mag nitude already attained during its tenth decade, one of the most prominent of American Statesmen could declare, that, were all the countries conquered by Roman DEDICATION. arms, or reduced to subjection by Roman power, arrayed contiguously, in compact form, and placed in the center of the United States, one of our swift railroad trains, with its palace cars, containing more of elegance and luxury of travel than the most sybaritic of the Roman emper ors ever dreamed of, must run at the rate of twenty-five miles the hour, continu ously, for more than two days, from either exterior boundary of our jurisdiction, to reach the outward limits of the Roman empire, when thus placed, even when she claimed to be mistress of the world. But, though the vauntings of evil proph ecy, the assaults of envy and ridicule, the tirades of a hostile press, and the machina tions of kings and cabinets, have ever and anon swept across the Atlantic, and sought to weaken the stability and humiliate the name of our glorious Republic, it still stands, confronting and challenging the tribunal of the world, in the majesty of those eternal principles embodied in its Declaration of Independence, in the strength of its dignity as the commanding arbiter of its own affairs, and of the des tiny of the Western hemisphere as well, in the prowess of its fleets and armies, in the incalculable wealth of its natural resources, in the splendor of its world wide commerce, its gigantic material en terprises, its vast industries, its affluence in the whole range of art, science, and lit erature, and in the still growing ascend ancy of all those moral, social, educa tional, and political forces, which shall carry it onward and dominant, with ever- increasing power, " while Empires drop and Monarchs sink to rest." Well, then, may every true American, standing on this Centennial outpost, and seeing the gorgeous ensigns of the repub lic studded with naught but stars of ever- brightening light and luster, proudly ex claim, "There stands the Past All hail the Hereafter ! Ring out the Old Ring in the New ! " SCOPE OF THIS VOLUME: WONDERS AND PRODIGIES, MEN AND EVENTS. Leaving to the task of the general his torian, the discussion of those grave themes of constitutional and legislative polity, the triumphs and failures of diplomacy, and the complex details of civic and military administration, which make up the politi cal life of a State and give to a government its distinguishing consideration and status in the family of nations, it is proposed in this volume, as meeting what is be lieved will be the almost universal prefer ence of the PEOPLE, to present, rather, a panoramic view of those wonders and prod igies, both of men and events, which pe culiarly reflect the patriotism, taste and genius, the exploits, tragedies and achieve ments, of the Century, in their most promi nent and emphasized examples; those red-letter days, scenes and sensations, which exhibit, in distinctive portraiture, the glory of our arms, the triumphs of in vention, the marvelous phenomena of the heavens above and the earth beneath, the enthusiasm of reform, the valorous adven tures of voyage and travel, the contests of the forum, the horrors of calamity and crime, the startling play of the human will and passions, the gala days of national re joicing, etc., etc., in all the rich and ex citing phases of one hundred changeful years. An eminent writer, in one of the most influential of the foreign Reviews, re marks : "If the sense of wonder in civilized man has not been wholly destroyed, we can not doubt that this age in which we 10 DEDICATION. live will be looked back upon by our chil dren s children as more replete with won ders than any which the world s history has hitherto recorded." How forcible the truth of this observa tion is, in respect to the one hundred years of our own history, the characterizations spread out in the following pages will at test. The calendar of that century has been multitudinous with wonders social, moral, political, physical, scientific, so vast, so dazzling, as to render familiar to us, as matters of common interest and daily thought, results and facts, greater and intrinsically more strange, than any that past ages afford, and eclipsing any that pertain to distant countries. The superior value, therefore, of this volume, for the great mass of readers, as compared with works of simple chronologi cal summary with the usual comments and discussions, is seen in the more diverse range the wider scope of attractive sub jects here collected, and which are adapted to meet so fully the average taste and need. Thus, the pages of no history, cast in the customary mould of that order of literature, could be expected to contain more than a passing allusion, if so much, to the peculiarly readable matter which com prises one-third, at least, of the topics here treated, and, without which, the work would fail in its most piquant element. HISTORY ILLUSTRATING ITSELF BY EX AMPLE. Adopting the words " great " and " mem orable," according to the liberal definition of lexicologists, and guided by the familiar injunction of Cicero, "Choose with dis cretion out of the plenty before you," the plan of this work is, in a special and per spicuous sense, that of history illustrating itself by example. It says to all, Look on this picture and on this. Suffice it to say, on this point, that every event chosen for these pages is, in addition to its own intrinsic interest, such as illustrates and brings into striking relief the prevailing sjiirit or excitement of the period marked by its occurrence, photo graphs of each recurring marvel, as the canvas of national life was unrolled, be ginning with the world-renowned transac tion in the Hall of Independence, July 4, 1776, and ending with the Centennial com memoration, July 4, 1876, of that august scene, under circumstances the most grand and imposing that ever related to any peo ple under the sun. POPULAR INTEREST OF THE SUBJECTS HERE TREATED. The popular and permanent fame of these celebrated events, which thus distin guish a century confessedly the most won derful of any in the ages of the world, and pertaining to a country whose career has been unequaled by that of any of the na tions of Christendom, may well be said to constitute a quality in this volume, com pared with which the ordinary terms ap plicable to books designed for wide-spread circulation would be but tame. The char acter of this work is, rather, in the fullest sense, romantic, stimulating, instructive, adapted, in the highest degree, to enlist the rapt emotions and curiosity of every American reader, so long as the republic shall endure. Here, also, are presented to view, in addition to the long and thrilling role of subsequent events, those grand Time-marks in our earlier history, to which the out-stretched forefinger of a century points, as most memorable and engrossing. They were rehearsed by the fathers to the children ; and the children of the present, and those of future genera tions, will peruse the varied story with eager and absorbing attention. DEDICATION. 11 For that large number, too, who though now in advancing years are familiar with many of these events only through verbal repetition, or from scanty and fragmentary sources, this ample detail, through the printed page, of whatever is most famous in the past of their native land, will surely be invaluable. EXCLUSION OF ALL DRY TOPICS AND DETAILS. As already remarked, incidentally, the treatment of those topics which involve tedious documentary array, those, too, which are more properly within the scope of scientific speculation, or political theo rizing, or legal disquisition, such, for in stance, as the shifting conflicts of party, our international complications, and those profound problems of public policy which have agitated the country since its very foundation, has not been attempted here, excepting in those special features which admit of attractive narrative and the em bodying of genial anecdote and pleasing memorabilia. A host of ready pens will not be wanting, to elaborate, in well-woven thread of continuity, the copious facts and proceedings relating, respectively, to the political, military, religious, benevolent, commercial and industrial growth of the republic, during the wondrous cycle just completed ; and it is safe to assume, there fore, in this regard, that the interests of no class or profession will suffer from the lack of a competent representative in the circle of authorship. THE UNIVERSAL HEART TOUCHED BY THESE SCENES AND EVENTS. It will readily be conjectured that, to " choose with discretion " from the multi farious materials which the preparation of such a work involved, discriminating aptly among their number and variety, was no indifferent task. The utmost pains-taking has been put forth by the editor, to perform this duty in such a manner as to omit nothing, the absence of which would impair the com pleteness of the work, by making it in any measure less than it should be a mirror reflecting the great and striking occur rences of an Era to which has been di rected, from first to last, the wondering gaze of people of every clime. Especially may they be described as those at which the American citizen, taking a retrospect of the annals that flow through the period thus marked, involuntarily finds himself filled, alternately, with astonishment pride horror delight. In a word, the contents of these pages, as will be seen by a glance at the TOPI CAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST, comprise those events which called forth the greatest in terest, curiosity, admiration, or terror, on the part of the public; those black and white keys, whose changeful notes, oft- times of weal,ofttimes of woe, touched, as did no others, the universal heart ! DIFFERENT TASTES AND PREFERENCES CONSULTED. That the number of subjects pertinent for such a work might be somewhat ex tended, soon became apparent. Thus, of the many battles in the five great wars, the revolutionary struggle, the war of 1812, the Mexican campaign, the conflict for the Union, and the wars with the In dian^ a description will be found of the fifteen most decisive, together with ac counts of some others of controlling im portance ; to portray all, however, of ac knowledged moment, would have been to devote a whole volume, at least, to that specialty alone. Particularly does this 12 DEDICATION. remark apply to that vast and prolonged drama of the war for the Union ; it was absolutely impossible, and it would also have been equally unprofitable, to present more than a few of those teeming events, such, for instance, as marked its inaugura tion, and those which, during its progress, distinctly foreshadowed or were immedi ately identified with the final result. The same statement holds true, rela tively, with reference to great political measures, crimes, disasters, reforms, and the wide field of discoveries and inven tions. Of these latter, numbering in the Patent Office at Washington scores of thousands, the " New American Cyclopae dia" gives place, in its masterly table of Chronology, to barely half a dozen exam ples ; more than this number, however, are here described, linked with the fascinating story of their extraordinary origin and in troduction, and their amazing revolution ary influence. Without pursuing this train of explana tion farther, it may be observed that, in prosecuting the contemplated plan of this volume, it was found that, though the grand object in view would be amply and satisfactorily attained by restricting the topical contents to the original one hun dred, there were yet certain notable occur rences which, though by no means " great," in the pre-eminent meaning of that word, possessed, nevertheless, so largely the char acter of being novel and exhilarating, and partook so peculiarly of the " bloom, effer vescence, and gush" of the times, that their presentation would add most agree ably to the variety, readableness, and eclat of the text. It was finally determined, therefore, that a limited number of this collateral or secondary class should be included, pop ular side-light scenes, or episodes, in the varying tableaux, such as the account of the sea serpent, the musical tour of Jenny Lind, the chess triumphs of Morphy, Rarey s feats of horse-taming, etc., etc., but not by subtracting from the full roll of the One Hundred events which were selected, from the first, as legitimately illustrating the broad National Epoch, and which so distinctly fulfill the name and design of this work. GREAT HISTORIC ACTORS AS WELL AS DEEDS DESCRIBED. It will hardly be necessary to remark at much length upon what, in the nature of the case, is so obvious, namely, that not alone the great Events distinguishing the past, but also the Actors, with whose lives those events are so intimately identified, are here delineated in the most striking crises of their career ; so that no sphere or phase of public concern, however diverse, which aroused world-wide attention, is without its personal portraitures in these pages. Washington, and his immortal compatriots of " the times that tried men s souls," and, following them, all the chief historic characters whose deeds loom up so conspicuously, and whose fame for good or ill, success or disaster, is national, men of heroism, statesmanship, oratory, genius, adventure, philanthropy, crime, have here their appropriate place. CHARACTER AND EXTENT OF LABOR IN VOLVED. The matter of these volumes is of such a nature as necessarily to render mere rhetorical platitudes quite out of place; and the too common plan of presenting rivulets of fact in meadows of verbiage, would be at utter variance with the object and value of our prescribed space. Res, non verba ! It has consequently been a DEDICATION. 13 paramount aim with the editor, while strictly avoiding that degree of condensa tion which would result in arid outlines, or bare skeletons, to first, avoid micro scopic details, and, second, to fuse the vital facts and racy incidents of each subject in such a manner as would body it forth to the reader in judicious fullness and com plete unity. That no reasonable desire in this respect has been left unsatisfied, it is sufficient to say, that, to each great event is devoted a number of pages equal to that usually given to articles, descriptive or narrative, in the various first-class maga zines of widest circulation. Manifestly, too, it could form no part of such a work as this to create, or to adorn by the mere artifice of words, but rather, with simple fidelity, to rehearse and per petuate. Sources of information, wher ever available, embracing the well nigh endless files of American newspapers, and in particular the issues of the metropoli tan press ; the immense range of periodi cal literature traversing the whole period of one hundred years ; voluminous masses of judicial and legislative documents ; the personal narratives of those who were foremost participants in the scenes de picted ; innumerable incidents and data communicated by eye-witnesses ; the teem ing libraries, public and private, of our principal cities ; the whole store-house, in fact, of history in every department, has been industriously explored, and its contents, diligently examined and sum marized, made tributary to the interest of these pages. No event or transaction has in any case been selected, or excluded, because of any bias, political or religious, on the part of the editor ; but, alike in respect to the events themselves and their dramatis per- sonce, the variety here presented, as well as the authorities and sources of informa tion cited, will abundantly evince the en tire impartiality practiced. Nor was it deemed desirable to augment the bulk of the work by indulging in diffuse com ments, or philosophical reflections, on the events set forth, however fruitful and tempting the opportunity. The "plain unvarnished tale " is allowed to stand by itself, teaching its own lesson, and sug gesting its own commentary. The difficulty of attaining unchallenged accuracy in all the minutiae of each event as, for example, the diverse combina tions and maneuvers incident to pro longed battles, as well as other transac* tions involving great and many-sided detail, need but to be mentioned in order to be appreciated. The various and pro tracted controversies growing out of the statements contained in the volumes of our foremost national historian, Mr. Ban croft, are fresh in the minds of all who are familiar with current literature and affairs, and furnish a case in point ; and if any ad ditional evidence were requisite to show the difficulties of even the most conscien tious narrator, the experience of Sir Wal ter Raleigh will at least be taken as suf ficiently suggestive. It is well known that his "History of the World" was composed while he was a political prisoner in the Tower of London. Only a portion of the work, however, was published, owing to the following circumstance : One afternoon, looking through his win dow into one of the courts of the Tower, Sir Walter saw two men quarrel, when the one actually murdered the other. Shortly after this occurred, two gentlemen, friends of Sir Walter, came into his room, and, remarking upon the tragedy, disagreed materially in their statements. Sir Wal ter, who, like them, had witnessed the 14 DEDICATION. whole affair, declared that neither was ac curate, and gave his own version of the matter. Thus, three eye-witnesses disa greeing about an act so recently com mitted. Raleigh, in a rage, took up the volumes of manuscript which lay near, and belonging to his "History of the World," and threw them on a large fire that was in the room, exclaiming, that " it was not for him to write the history of the world, if he could not verify or relate what he saw a quarter of an hour be fore." It remains to be added here, in terms of warm and grateful appreciation, that much of the irksomeness inseparable from labor of this character, has been relieved by the aid afforded us, so cheerfully, by corre spondents in different parts of the coun try, authors, statesmen, military and other officials, and without whose friend ly co-operation, insuperable difficulty would have been experienced by the editor, at more than one stage in the progress of his task. The valuable assistance thus rendered is hereby gratefully acknowledged, with a deep sense of personal obligation. SUPERB ATTRACTIVENESS OF THE ILLUS TRATIONS. Of the numerous and elegant pictorial adornments of these pages, much might be said. This attractive as well as essen tial feature, namely, the full and graphic illustration, by views and portraits, of each event and its chief actors, together with the signatures of the latter, was de termined on simultaneously with the first conception of the book itself; and the re sult a complete Picture Gallery of the National Century, will be found in keen ing with the selectest attainments of taste and genius in this direction, and worthy of the vivid transactions thus delineated. They have been furnished by the most eminent artists, and at a lavish cost, the number, variety, and beauty of the plates being far in advance of those of any other work of the same compass ever before pub lished in America, and equaled by few or none issued abroad. That nothing should be deficient in this feature, the plan pursued was, to obtain, if possible, accurate representations of every scene to be described, fresh and contem porary with its occurrence, and, where no facility was afforded for this, to resort to the best skill capable of realizing the end desired. They comprise copies of some of the masterpieces of Trumbull, Copley, Healy, .and others of that renowned school, and portraits, sketches, designs, vignettes, etc., by the most gifted leaders of art in America. It is but simple justice, also, to remark here, that for the completeness character izing this wide field of embellishment, our warmest thanks are due, in repeated in stances, to the generosity of courteous correspondents, authors, artists, publish ers and others, for portraits and auto graphs so rare that, but for the kind favor thus extended, access to some of the most valued engravings here given would have been well nigh impracticable. Nor would it be possible, in this connection, to over state the credit belonging to the unrivaled illustrated journals of our great cities, whose prompt and profuse photographs of current events and memorable objects and personages, in all parts of the world, dur ing the last quarter of a century, leave nothing unprovided in that line for the future historian. In a vast majority of instances, indeed, those journals are the only sources from which life-like picto rial descriptions of American history, and DEDICATION. 16 that of other nations as well, can be drawn. TIMELY APPEARANCE OF THE WORK. Without egotism or boastfulness, it may be claimed for this work, in conclusion, that, original and unique in plan, rich in its varied and ample contents, and unsur passed in abundant ornamentation, its ap pearance at the close of the Grand Na tional Era was peculiarly called for; it being confidently believed that, under the stimulus of the universal celebration of the Great Commemorative Anniversary, throughout all the borders of the land, and on a scale of magnificence becoming the most powerful, happy, and prosperous nation on the face of the globe, public at tention would naturally be directed to the desirableness of just such a Memorial of that eventful centenary period which the Day of Jubilee July Fourth, 1876, rounds out to full-orbed completeness. R. M. DEVENS. 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 Tri umphant. Grandest Modern Event. America Resists Unjust Taxation. Haughty Obsti nacy of King George. Burning Eloquence of Patrick Henry. His Summons, "We Must Fight." Washington Endorses this Sentiment. Determination of the People. War Prefer red 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. Scorching 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 65 2 18 CONTENTS. II. CAPITULATION OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. 1777. First Royal Army Ever Surrendered to Americans. Utter Failure of England s Grand Scheme to " Subdue the Rebellious Colonies." European Sympathy for the Struggling Infant Na tion. Alliance between France and the United States. Brilliant and Effective Combination of French and American Forces. Gloomy Prospect for America in 1777. Britain s Honor Intrusted to Burgoyue. His Magnificent Army. Rebels to be Sternly Dealt With. San guine Expectations of Success. Savages Leagued with the Invaders. Their Murder of Miss McCrea. Burgoyne s Triumphant Progress. Fall of Ticonderoga. American Victor ies at Bennington, etc. Gates s Army in Fine Spirits. General Fraser Shot Dead. The "King s Regulars" Desperate. General Clinton Fails to Aid Them. All Hope Abandoned. Burgoyne Lays Down his Arms. His Meeting with Gates. Trophies of this Victory. How Washington Got the News. Unbounded Joy of Americans. Crushing Blow to British Pride. Effect upon Other Nations 7 J III. FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 1779. John Paul Jones, Commanding the Bon Ilomme Richard, Fights and Captures King George s Powerful Ship-of-war, the Serapis, in British Waters. Crowds of Spectators Line the En glish 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. Commo dore Jones s Early Career. Offers his Services to Congress. Appointed a Naval Lieutenant. Joins the Continental Fleet. The First to Hoist its Ensign. Style and Motto of the Flag. Sails from France on a Cruise. Terror Created by His Movements. Characteristic Anec dotes. 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 Victorious Vessel 81 IV. 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 Even ing 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 Creation. 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 8U V. TREASON OF MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD. 1780. Darkest Page in American Revolutionary History. Plot to Deliver West Point, the Gibraltar of America, Over to the British. Movements of the Guilty Parties. Discovery and Frus tration of the Crime. Major Andre, the British Spy, is Captured, and Swings from a (Jib- bet. Escape of Arnold to the Enemy. Is Spurned and Isolated in England. Arnold s Unquestioned Bravery. Commended by General Washington. Infamous Personal Transac tions. Reprimanded by His Chief. Determines on Revenge. Correspondence with the Foe. Ingratiates Washington s Favor Again. Obtains Command of West Point. Midnight Conference with Andre. Andre Seized while Returning. Astounding Evidence Against CONTENTS. 19 Him. Attempts to Bribe His Captors. Carried to American Head-Quarters. Arnold Ap prised 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 Gallon Mrs. Arnold. Andre s Trial and Conviction. Arnold s Reward for His Crime. His Unlameuted Death 97 VI. CORNWALLIS SURRENDERS His SPLENDID AHMY TO GENERAL WASHINGTON. 1781. Final 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 Bombard ment. 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 Americans. Morti fication of the English. Eloquence of Burke, Fox, and Pitt. They Demand that the War Cease. The Voice of Parliament. Commemorative Action by Congress 101 VII. 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 Washington. 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 Triumph. Scheme to Make Him King. Indig nantly 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 Annapolis. Proceeds to the Halls of Congress. Impressive Ceremonial There. Rare Event in Human History. . 112 VIII. APPOINTMENT OF THE FIRST MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY, 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 Deal ing. Settlement Demanded by the United States. What Adams s Mission Involved. Dis memberment of the British Realm. Loss of the Fairest Possession. Bitter Pill for the King. His Obstinacy Forced to Yield. Humiliation of the Proud Monarch. All Europe Watches the Event. Mr. Adams Presented at Court. Patriot and King Face to Face. Official Address by the Minister. Reply of King George. His Visible Agitation. Adams s Presence of Mind. Pays His Homage to the Queen. Her Majesty s Response. Civilities by the Royal Family. Results of this Embassy. Pitiable Position of George the Third. Fatal Error of Great Britain 119 IX. FIRST ORGANIZED REBELLION IN THE UNITED STATES. 1786. Daniel Shays, at the Head of an Armed and Desperate Force, Boldly Defies the State and Fed eral Laws in Massachusetts. " Taxation and Tyranny " the Alleged Grievances. Alarming 20 CONTENTS. Disaffection throughout all New England. Bud Leaders and Furious Mobs. Rout of the Insurgents, by General Lincoln, in the Dead of Winter. Patriotic Old Massachusetts in a Ferment. Causes of Public Discontent. Total Exhaustion of Credit. Prostration of Trade. Ruinous Debts, Heavy Taxation. Weakness of the Government. An Excited Populace. Turbulence and Lawlessness. All Authority Spurned. A Bloody Conflict Invited. Courts of .Justice Broken Up. Indignation of Washington. Heroism on the Bench. The National Forces Augmented. Fears of a General Civil War. Unscrupulousness of Shays. Intention to Seize the Capital. Governer Bovvdoin s Defenses. General Lincoln in Com mand. Active Movement of His Troops. A Terrible Snow-Storm. Hardships of Shays s Army. Federal Bayonets Triumphant 125 X. FORMATION AND ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 1787. The United States no Longer a People without a Government. Establishment of the Repub lic on a Permanent Foundation of Unity, Organic Law and National Polity. Dignity, Learning, and Eloquence 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 Con vention. Washington Chosen to Preside. Statesmen and Sages in Council. The Old Com pact Abrogated. New Basis of Union Proposed. Various Schemes Discussed. Jealousy of the Smaller States. Angry Debates, Sectional Threats. Bad Prospects of the Convention. Its Dissolution Imminent. Franklin s Impressive Appeal. Compromise and Conciliation. Final System Agreed Upon. Patriotism Rules all Hearts. Ratification by the States. National Joy at the Decision 132 XI. 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 Sol emn 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 W r orld- Distinguished Celebrities Present. Washington s Elegant Appearance. Dignity when Taking the Oath. Reverentially Kisses the Bible. Curious Customs Initiated. . 139 XII. GREATEST DEFEAT AND VICTORY OF AMERICAN ARMS IN THE INDIAN WARS. 1791. Headlong Flight and Destruction of St. Clair s Army, in 1791, before the Trained Warriors of " Little Turtle." This Mortifying Disaster Retrieved by Wayne s Overwhelming Tri umph in 1794. Final and Crushing Blow Dealt by Jackson, in 1814. The Question of Power between the Two Races Forever Settled in Favor of the Whites. Old Feuds between the Races. Harmer s Expedition to the North-west. Powerless in Ambush Warfare. Repeated and Bloody Reverses. St. Clair put in Command. Warning Words of Washing ton. Sudden Attack by the Miamis. Terrible Slaughter of the Whites. Overthrow of the Whole Campaign. Washington s Reception of the News. His Appalling Wrath. Sketch 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 Shat tered ... 146 CONTENTS. 21 XIII. WHITNEY S EXTRAORDINARY COTTON-GIN INVENTION. 1793. Amazing Impetus Given to the Culture, Uses and Consumption of Cotton. Revolution in the Industrial 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. Befriended by General Greene s Widow. Amateur Invent ive Efforts. Low State of Southern Industry. Objection to Cotton-Raising. Mrs. Greene s Apt Suggestion. Whitney s Characteristic Resolve. Secret and Persevering Toil. Exciting Rumors as to His Purpose. Great Expectations Entertained. Triumphant Suc cess. Enthusiasm of the Cotton-Growers. His Machine Stolen from Him. Infringements upon His Patent. Law-Suits, but no Redress for Him. His Pathetic Letter to Fulton. He Invents a Valuable Firearm. Southern Strides in Wealth 153 XIV. THE FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. 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 Politicians 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 Fac- tionists. 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. 160 XV. 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 Removal of the Government and its Archives to Washing ton. Official Observance of the Event. Magnificent Site and Plan of the City. Splendor of its Public Buildings. Congress First Sits in Philadelphia. Need of a Permanent Capi tal. 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 Capitol. Its Corner-Stone Laid by Washington. Congress in its New Halls. Growth of the Me tropolis. The New Corner-Stone of 1851 167 XVI. 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 Mur mur. 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 ! " 22 CONTENTS. 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. . 174 XVII. PUNISHMENT AND COMPLETE DEGRADATION OF THE BARBARY STATES BY THE YOUNG REPUBLIC. 1803. Tribute Exacted of all the Nations of Christendom, by the Piratical Powers. The Thunder of American Cannon before Their Cities. Ignominious Submission of Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. Their Audacious Corsairs Vanquished and Driven in Terror from the Seas. A Boon to the Civilized World. Barbary a Nation of Freebooters. All Commerce at their Mercy. The United States Unknown to Them. Its Flag Descried on the Ocean. Fresh Plunder Anticipated. Seizure of American Ships. Retaliation by the Yankees. Tripoli s Flag Struck at Last. Treaty between the Belligerents. New Exactions by the Algerines. Retribution in Store for Them. A United States Frigate in the Pirate Haunts. Grounding of the Philadelphia. Her Triumphant Capture by the Enemy. Their Boisterous Exulta tion. Decatur Burns Her During the Night. Fierce Rage of the Turks. Bombardment of Tripoli. How "Christian Dogs" were Viewed. Peace Sued for by the Despots. Their Duplicity and Treachery. America s " Tribute " is Powder and Balls 182 XVIII. FATAL DUEL BETWEEN MR. BURR AND GENERAL ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 1801. 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 Revo lution. His Notorious Debauchery. Finally 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 189 XIX. TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE AT MID-DAY. 1806. The Darkness of Night Falls upon the Earth. Stars and Planets in Full Radiance. Magnifi cent Spectacle of the Glittering Corona around the Moon and the Brilliant Rosy Protuber ances Flaming from the Sun. Splendor of the Returning Night. Similar Eclipse in 18GD. Millions of Faces Turned Upward. The Phenomenon Viewed with Curiosity, Wonder, and Absorbed Delight. Remarkably Fine Weather. Serene and Cloudless Heavens. Busi ness Pursuits Abandoned. The Moon Crossing the Sun. Distinctness of the Lunar Orb. Grand, Dark, Majestic, Mighty. Total Obscurity Some Five Minutes. Appearance of Nature. Sensations Produced in the Mind. Involuntary Exclamations. Effect on Birds and Animals. Triumphs of Astronomical Science. Exquisitely Constructed Instruments. Revelations of the Spectroscope. Great Thermometrical Changes. Spots on the Sun Ex amined. 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 Impres sive Scene 19(3 XX. 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 Treason. CONTENTS. 23 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 the Trial. Its Legal and Forensic Interest. Acquittal on Technical Grounds. Shunned as a Man of Infamy. Devotion of His Daughter Theodosia. Lifelong and Unalterable Love. Her Mysterious Fate. Burr s Anguish and Agony. A Moral AVreck and Warning. . 204 XXI. FULTON S TRIUMPHANT APPLICATION OF STEAM TO NAVIGATION. 1807. 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 Prog ress and Power. The Whole Scale of Civilization Enlarged. Fulton s Early Mechanisms. His Inventive Projects Abroad. Steam Propulsion the End Sought. Various Experi ments and Trials. Livingston s Valued Co-operation. Studying the Principle Involved. Its Discovery at Last. Legislative Encouragement Asked. Public Ridicule of the Scheme. Construction of a Steam-boat. 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 Subse quent Increase. Fulton s Checkered Fortunes 212 XXII. 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. Humboldt s Interesting Opinion 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 Dis appear. Burial Grounds Engulfed. Nature s Secrets Unbosomed. Lakes Drained, New One? 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. Effect in the Harbor and Bay 218 XXIII. CAPTURE OF THE BRITISH FRIGATE GUERRIERE BY THE UNITED STATES FRIGATE CON STITUTION. 1812. Captain Dacres s Insolent Challenge to the American Navy. Captain Hull s Eager Accept ance. His Unrivaled Tactics and Maneuvers. A Short, Terrific, Decisive Contest. Yankee Valor on the Ocean a Fixed Fact, Sternly Respected. The Constitution Becomes the Favor ite Ship of the Nation and is Popularly Called " Old Ironsides." Cruise of the Constitution. Hull, the " Sea King," in Command. A Sail! The Enemy s Squadron ! Chased Three Days by Them. Rowing and Warping in a Calm. Most Wonderful Escape on Record.- Another Frigate in Sight, the Guerriere. Her Signals of Defiance. Yankee Eagerness for Action. The Two Frigates Afoul. Yard-Arm to Yard- Arm Encounter. Fire of the Con stitution Reserved. Final and Deadly Broadsides. Fearless Conduct of Her Crew. British Colors Hauled Down. Sinking of the Shattered Wreck. Armament and Power of the Ships. An Almost Equal Match. Anecdotes of the Two Commanders. Honors to t Brave Victors. Future Annals of the Constitution. Her Varied and Noble Career. . 225 24 CONTENTS. XXIV. 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 Barclay, one of Lord Nelson s Veteran Officers, and with a Superior Force, are Thoroughly Beaten by the Americans, under Commodore Oliver II. Perry. Every British Vessel Cap tured. 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 Two Hours Fight. Huzzas of the Enemy. The Day Supposed to be Theirs. Indomi table Resolution of Perry. He Puts Off in an Open Boat. Reaches the Niagara with His Flag. Again Battles with the Foe. Severe and Deadly Conflict. American Prowess Invin cible. Barclay Strikes His Colors. Perry only Twenty-seven Years Old 234 XXV. CONQUEST AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON, BY THE BRITISH. 1814. Precipitate Flight of the President of the United States, and His Cabinet. The Capitals of Europe Protected from Fire and Devastation by Their Conquerors. Contrast of British War fare in America. The Capitol, Presidential Mansion, etc., Sacked and Fired. National In dignation Aroused by these Barbarities. Veterans from Europe s Battle-Fields Execute these Deeds. Orders to " Lay Waste " the American Coast. Operations at the South. Washington the Prize in View. Inefficiency of its Defense. W r inder and Barney in Com mand. The Idea of an Attack Scouted. Onward March of the Invaders. Fearful Excite ment in the City. High Officials in Camp. The Armies at Bladensburg. Winder De feated, Barney Taken. Ross s Progress Unopposed. Complete Master of the City. A Rush for the Spoils. British Soldiers in the White House. They Eat the President s Dinner. Cockburn s Bold Infamy. Retreat of the Vandal Foe. Their March upon Baltimore. Ross Shot Dead in the Fight 242 XXVI. MCDONOUGH S NAVAL VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 1814. The Projected British Invasion of the Northern States, by Land and Water, Frustrated by an Overwhelming Blow on their Favorite Element. Most Unexpected and Mortifying Result to the Enemy s Pride. Not One of the Seventeen British Ensigns Visible Two Hours After the Opening of the Action by Downie. McDonough s Laconic Message. British Advance on New York. Grand Scheme of Conquest. Picked Men Employed. Great Land and Naval Force. Their Fleet on Lake Champlain. Downie, a Brave Officer, Commands. Flushed Confidence of Victory. Pleasure Parties to " See the Fight." Pluck of Commo dore McDonough. His Prayer on the Eve of Battle. Strange and Beautiful Omen. Its Inspiriting Effect on the Men. McDonough Sights the First Gun. The Flagships in Close Grapple. Their Aspect Like a Sheet of Fire. Tremendous Cannonade. The Two Fleets in Full Action. Desperate Situation of Both. McDonough s Extraordinary Resort. Downie Completely Circumvented. At the Mercy of the Americans. No English Flag on the Lakes 250 XXVII. GENERAL JACKSON S TERRIBLE 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 Inva sion of Louisiana. Preparations to Resist Them. Jackson Hastens to New Orleans. His Presence Inspires Confidence. Martial Law Proclaimed. Progress of the British Forces. CONTENTS. 25 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. Start ling and Impressive Effect 257 XXVIII. THE EVER-MEMORABLE SEPTEMBER GALE. 1815. Its Violence and Destructiveness without a Parallel Since the Settlement of the Country. Terror Excited by its Sudden and Tumultuous Force. Unprecedented Phenomena of Tem pest, Deluge and Flood. One Hour of Indescribable Havoc on the Land and Sea. Premon itory 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 W r recks. Perils, Escapes, Fatali ties. Peculiar Meteorological Facts. Bright Skies in the Midst of the Tempest. Suffo cating 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. . . 264 XXIX. VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA, AS THE GUEST OF THE REPUBLIC. 1824. His Tour of Five 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 Fi delity During the War. Subsequent Vicissitudes in France. America s Heart-felt Sym pathy. He Leaves Havre for New York. Enthusiasm Excited by his Presence. Incidents, Interviews, Fetes. Greetings with Old Comrades. Memories Joys and Tears. Departs in the United States Ship Lafayette. His Death in 1834. National Grief 272 XXX. DUEL BETWEEN HENRY CLAY, SECRETARY OF STATE, AND JOHN RANDOLPH, UNITED STATES SENATOR 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 " Blackleg " Taunt. Clay Challenges the Senator to Mortal Combat. 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 Politi cal 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. Inci dents 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. Distance Ten Paces. A Harmless Exchange of Shots. Clay Calls it "Child s Play I "Another Fire. No Injury. " Honor " Satisfied. Pleasant Talk with Each Other. 2S2 26 CONTEXTS. XXXI. FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY AND CELEBRATION OF THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE REPUBLIC. 1S26. Sudden and Simultaneous Death of Ex-Presidents John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, its Two Most Illustrious Founders. The Day of Resounding Joy and Jubilee Changed to One of Profound National Sorrow. No Historical Parallel to Such a Remarkable Coincidence. World-Renowned Career of these Statesmen. Extraordinary Preparations for the Day. Adams and Jefferson then Alive. Sires and Patriarchs of the Nation. Their Names House hold Words. Invited to Share in the Festivities. They Hail the Glorious Morn. Great Rejoicings ; Death s Summons. Jefferson s Distinguishing Honor. Adams s Patriotic Lus ter. Their Imperishable Deeds. Calm Yet High Enthusiasm. Hostile Leaders in After- Life. Racy and Piquant Anecdote. Crisis Point in Adams s Fortunes. His Last Toast for His Country, "Independence Forever." Two Sages in Old Age. Serenity, Wisdom, Dignity. Former Friendship Revived. Letters of Mutual Attachment. European Admir ation Excited. Reverence to Their Colossal Fame 291 XXXII. THE "GREAT DEBATE" BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE, IN CONGRESS. 1830. Vital Constitutional Issues Discussed. Unsurpassed Power and Splendor of Senatorial Elo quence. Webster s Speech Acknowledged to be the Grandest Forensic Achievement in the Whole Range of Modern Parliamentary Efforts. Golden Age of American Oratory. Un precedented 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 Im pression Created. Its Dash, Assurance, Severity. Bitter and Sweeping Charges. His Op- ponents 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. Accumu lative 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 297 xxxm. 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 Con verts Obtained in All Parts of the World. Founding and Destruction of Nauvoo, the City of Zion." Smith s Character. Removal to Utah, the " Promised Laud." Smith the " Mo hammed of the West." His Origin and Repute. Pretended Supernatural Interviews. Revelations 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 First 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 " Authorized. Smith in Jail as a Criminal. Is Shot Dead by a Furi ous Mob. Brigham Young His Successor. The " New Jerusalem." 306 xxxrv. CAREER, CAPTURE, AND EXECUTION OF GIBBS, THE MOST NOTED PIRATE OF THE CEN* TURY. 1831. His Bold, Enterprising, Desperate, and Successful War, for Many Years, Against the Com merce 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 CONTENTS. 27 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 South ampton. L. I. His Infamy Brought to Light. Arrested with His Treasure. Confession of His Guilt. Black Record of Crime and Blood. Close of His Ill-Starred Life. . . . 314 XXXV. NULLIFICATION OUTBREAK IN SOUTH CAROLINA, UNDER THE LEAD OF CALHOUN, McDuFFiE, HAYNE, AND OTHERS. 1832. State Sovereignty, instead of the Federal Government, Claimed by Them to be Supreme. The Wrath of President Jackson Aroused. His Stern and Heroic Will Upholds the Na tional Authority and Saves the Union from Anarchy and from the Perils of Dismember- nvnit. Momentous Nature of this Contest. The Tariff a Rock of Offense. Action in the " Palmetto " State. Anti-National and Defiant. Pacific Proposals Scouted. A Political Dinner in Washington. Jackson s and Calhoun s Toasts. Plan of the Conspirators. A Bomb-shell in Their Camp. Convention of Agitators in Columbia. Nullification Ordinance Passed. " Old Hickory " Bold and Resolute. His Peremptory Proclamation. South Caro lina s Counter-Blast. United States Troops Sent to Charleston. Presidential Idea of Com promising. Clay s Conciliation Scheme. The Leading Nullifiers in Danger. Jackson Threatens to Hang Them. They are Roused from Bed at Midnight. Two Alternatives Presented. Swallowing a Bitter Pill 320 XXXVI. 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 Veloc ity, 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 Ignor ant. Conflagration of the World Feared. Impromptu Prayer-Meetings. Prodigious Star Shower at Boston. Myriads of Blood-Red Fire-balls. The Display at Niagara Falls. Blaz ing Heavens, Roaring Cataracts. Some of the Meteors Explode. Trains of Light in their Track. Radiant Prismatic Hues. Substance Composing 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 the Earth. Half a Conti nent in Presumed Jeopardy 329 XXXVII. ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON, AT THE UNITED STATES CAPITOL IN WASHINGTON, 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 Hostil ity 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 Ser mon. 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. Is 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 Mad-house 337 28 CONTENTS. XXXVIII. 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 the Invention. Mr. Morse s European Voyage in 1832. Recent French Experiments then Discussed. Im portant Question and Answer. Two Great Existing Facts. The Electric Spark Transmis- sive. Easy Control of the Current. Theory Applied to Practice. Completion of a Crude Model. Private Exhibition in 1835. Simplicity of the Instrument. The Invention Made Public in 1837. Wonder and Incredulity. Appeal to Congress for Pecuniary Aid. Merci less 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 Up the Wires to Baltimore. First Message Through 345 XXXIX. TREMENDOUS FIRE IN NEW YORK CITY. 1835. Its Destructiveness Unparalleled, up to this Period, in the Western World. Resistless Devas tation for Sixteen Hours in Midwinter. A Pall of Ruin and Desolation over the Richest Business Locality in America. Nearly Seven Hundred Warehouses, Filled with Costly Mer chandise, and the Commerce of Every Clime, Laid in Ashes. Loss Upwards of Eighteen Millions. Peculiar Seat of this Fire. The Money Center of America. Breaking Out in the Evening. Fury of the North Wind. The Flames Spread Violently. Bitter and Intense Cold. Freezing of the Engine Water. All the Elements Hostile. Human Endeavors Pow erless. Acres on Fire at Midnight. Sweeps from Point to Point. Mingled Horror and Sublimity. Efforts to Save the Exchange. Fate of that Splendid Pile. Fall of its Magnifi cent Dome. Numberless Reverses of Fortune. Rich Men Made Penniless. A Singular Exception. Swarms of Bold Robbers. Military Protection Required. Discovery of a Diabolical Crime. Supposed Cause of the Fire 353 XL. STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS. 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." Ex pulsion and Assassination Threatened. His Unquailing Courage. A Spectacle Unwitnessed before in the Halls of Legislation. Triumph of His Master Mind. The Right of Petition a Constitutional One. Indiscriminate and Unrestricted. Anti-Slavery Petitions. Mr. Adams Their Champion. An Unpopular Position. He Defies Every Menace. His Bold and In trepid Conduct. The North and South at Variance. Monster Petitions Pour In. A Me morial 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. Elo quence and Indomitableness. A Petition to Dissolve the Union. Increased Exasperation. Violent and Denunciatory Debate. Sublime Bearing of Mr. Adams. Vindicated and Victorious at Last What He Lived to See. Honor from His Opponents 302 XLI. PASSAGE OF BENTON S FAMOUS "EXPUNGING RESOLUTION," IN THE U. S. SENATE, AFTER A THREE YEAUS 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 Sentence, by the Secretary, in the Presence of the Senate and of a Vast and Tumultu ous Crowd, at Midnight. 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 CONTENTS. 29 Conflict in Congress. Weeks of Stormy Debate. Proposed Censure of Jackson. Resolu tion to this Effect Passed. Benton s 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. . . 373 XLIL MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS ENCOMPASSING THE WHOLE FIRMAMENT TO ITS FAR THEST 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 Mature Everywhere Appears, to an As tonished World, as if Dyed in Blood. Uncommon Extent and Sublimity. Remarkable Duration and Aspects. Intensely Luminous Character. Universal Outburst of Luster. Preceded by a Fall of Snow. First Signs of the Phenomenon. Exquisite Rosy Illumina tion. The Snow Appears Deep Red. A Fiery Vermilion Tinge to Nature. Alarm Pro duced by the Scene. Great Moving Pillar of Light. Vivid Streamers 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. Perfection of the Stellar Form. Millions of Wondering Observers. Visible Nearly the Whole Night. Ac counts from Different Points. Europe s Share in the Display 379 XLIII. EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE SOUTH POLE, UNDER COMMAND OF CAPTAIN CHARLES WILKES, UNITED STATES NAVY. 1838. First Naval Enterprise of the Kind Ever Undertaken by the American Navy. The Squadron Sails Ninety Thousand Miles in Four years. Extent and Importance of the Investigations. Discovery of the Great Antarctic Continent. Other Geographical, Nautical, and Scientific Results. Selection of Officers and Vessels. A Scientific Corps Organized. Route Pre scribed ; Seas and Lands. Enthusiastic Departure. Arrival at Terra del Fuego. Observa tions at Cape Horn. Excursion to the Cordilleras. Ascent of a Lofty Peak. Desolation and Silence New Islands Discovered. An Observatory Established. The Samoan Group Examined. Descent into an Extinct Volcano. New South Wales Visited. Extreme South ward Cruise. View of the Ice-Bound Continent. A Landing Effected. Account of this Achievement. Experiences at Feejee. On the Summit of Mauna-Loa. Homeward-Bound Tracks. Safe Arrival 386 XLIV. BREAKING OUT OF THE TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. 1840. Origin, Rapid Spread, Influence and Wonderful History of the Movement. Enthusiasm At tending the " Washingtonian " Era. Its Pioneers Rise from the Gutter to the Rostrum, and Sway Multitudes by Their Eloquence. Father Mathew s Visit. His 600,000 Converts. Ca reer of Hawkins, Mitchell, Gough, Dow, and Others. First Temperance Society in the United States. Singular Terms of Membership. Social Customs in Former Times. Unre strained Use of Spirits. Growing Desire for 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 Re formed Drunkards. Cold Water Armies, Processions, etc. Music, Banners, and Badges. The Country All Ablaze. An "Apostle of Temperance." Administering the Pledge. Con flict Concerning Measures. Anecdotes of Washington. General Taylor s Whiskey Jug. Farragut s Substitute for Grog 393 XLV. FREMONT S HEROIC EXPEDITION OF DISCOVERY TO THE UNTRACKED REGION OF THK NORTH-WEST, OREGON, CALIFORNIA, ETC. 1812. His Exploration of the Sierra Nevada, and of that Wonderful Gateway in the Rocky Mount ains, the South Pass. Plants the American Flag on the Highest Peak of that Lofty Range. 30 CONTENTS. He Enriches Every Branch of Natural Science, and Illustrates a Remote and Boundless Country before Entirely Unknown. Fremont a Pioneer of Empire. National Objects of this Tour. Enchanting Record of Adventures. Surveys and Researches. Humboldt s Tribute of Admiration. Wild Grandeur of the Route. Scenes in this Vast Domain. The Rocky Mountains ; First Glimpse. Formation of the South Pass. " Kit Carson," the Intrepid Guide. At the Topmost Peak, 14,000 Feet. Startling Boldness of the View. Overpowering Quiet and Solitude. Evidences of Awful Convulsions. 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 Path- Fiuder. Honors from his Countrymen. A King s Gift and Regards 402 XLVI. REBELLION IN RHODE ISLAND UNDER THOMAS W. DORR. 1812. Dissatisfaction With the Old Restricted Charter Granted by King Charles. Popular Suffrage and Equal Political Privileges Demanded. Resistance of the Party in Power to these Movements. The Contestants Arm and Take the Field. Defeat of the Agitators and Flight of Dorr. Ultimate Prevalence of Their Principles. A Charter Two Hundred Years Old. Its Monarchical Provisions. Suffrage for Property Holders. Denied to all Others. An Ex clusive Legislature. Reformed Measures Demanded. A People s Convention Called. They Form a Constitution. Proclaimed the Supreme Law. Legislature Chosen under It. Thomas W. Dorr Elected Governor. Is Treated as a Traitor. Claims to be the People s Man. Governor King s Military Activity. Dorr Heads a Large Force. Tries to Sei/.e the Reins of Power. Is Routed ; Quits the State. Returns Again to the Conflict. Entrenches atChepachet; Retreats. Tried for Treason and Imprisoned. Pardoned and Restored. Something About " Barn-Burning," or the Anti-Rent Insurrection in New York. . . . 408 XLVII. MUTINY ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES BRIG-OF-WAR SOMERS, CAPTAIN A. S. MAC KENZIE. 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. Spencer s Hold Upon His Comrades. Death the Pen alty of Disclosure. Confidence Fortunately Misplaced. 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 Ship. Raising the Banner of the Cross 415 XL VII I. 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 Pro digious 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. First Visible in the Day-time. Its Conspicuous Aspect. Strange and Chreatening Motion. Goes Twice Around 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. Beauti ful Ocean Reflection. Double Sweep of the Tail. Other Cometary Phenomena. . . 424 CONTENTS. 31 XLIX. EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OP 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 Consumma tion. Basis of these Conclusions. Reluctantly Begins to Lecture. Interesting Incident. His Labors and Enthusiasm. Three Thousand Lectures in Ten Years. Secret of his Great Success. Approach of the Final Day. Cessation of Secular Pursuits. Encamping in the Fields, in Grive-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 431 L. AWFUL EXPLOSION OF COMMODORE STOCKTON S GREAT GUN, THE "PEACEMAKER," ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES 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 Enjoy ment 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 Murderous Blast. Bursting of the Gun, D^ath 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 439 LI. Two HUNDRED YEARS OF FREE POPULAR EDUCATION. 1844. 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. Progress and Results. America in the Van. Most Enlightened and Success ful System in the World. Female Education. Colleges, Universities, etc. A Very Modern Id ea . Xo National System of Education. Undertaken 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. Some Strange Contrasts. Archi tectural Splendor of the Present Day. Ingenious Helps and Appliances. 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. Tdpas and Plans at the Start, Founding of Harvard, Yale, etc. Then and Now Nearly 400 Colleges in the U. S. Some 8,000,000 Common School Pupils, . 448 LII. DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER AS A PREVENTIVE OF PAIN. 1816. Performance of Surgical Operations Involving the Intensest Torture, During the Happy Un consciousness of the Patient. Account of the First Capital Demonstration before a Crowded and Breathless Assembly. Its Signal Success. Thrill of Enthusiastic Joy. Most Benefi cent Boon Ever Conferred by Science upon the Human Race. Instinctive Dread of Pain. Fruitless Search Hitherto for a Preventive. Terror of the Probe and Knife. Heroes Quail before Them. Case of the Bluff Old Admiral. Discovery of the Long-Sought Secret.- Sul phuric Ether the Prize. Bliss During Amputation. Honor Due to America. A Whole World Elated. Medical Men Exultant. Curious Religious Objections. Test-Case in Sur gery. Startling and Romantic Interest. Value in Public Hospitals. War s Sufferings 32 CONTENTS. Ameliorated. Various Effects While Inhaling. Amusing and Extraordinary Cases. "Thocht the Deil Had a Grip o Her!" Odd Talk of an Innocent Damsel. Old Folks Wanting to Dance. Awards to the Discoverers 456 LIIL 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 8500,000,000 Annually. The Humble Inventor Becomes a Millionaire. The Main Principle Involved. Comparison With Hand Sewing. How it was Suggested. Lis tening 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. Weari some 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 464 LIV. SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 1847. Familiar Intercourse Claimed to be Opened between Human and Disembodied Beings. Al leged 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. First Rappings in Hydesville, New York. Time, Manner, Circumstances. 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 Opin ions as to the Tendency of the Phenomena. Thirty Years History 472 LV. VOYAGE OF THE UNITED STATES SHIP JAMESTOWN WITH A CARGO OF FOOD FOR THE STARVING IN IRELAND. 1847. Famine, Pestilence, Woe and Death Sweep Frightfully Over that Land. Appeal to the Sympa thy of Nations. The Tale of Horror Borne Across the Atlantic. Spontaneous Generosity of America. A Ship of War Converted into a Ship of Peace, and Laden with Free Gifts for tha Suffering. Total Failure of the Potato Crop. A Universal Scourge. Disease Added to Destitution Ghastly Scenes on Every Side. Multitudes Perish in the Streets. Parliament Grants 850,000,000. The Message of Humanity. America s Ready Bounties. Use of the Jamestown Granted. Food Substituted for Guns. Interesting Bill of Lading. Departure from Boston. Enthusiastically Cheered. Only Fifteen Days Passage. Going up the Har bor of Cork. Throngs of Famished Spectators. Tumultuous Greetings on Arrival. Public Welcomes and Honors. A Tour of Inspection. Indescribable Horrors. Distribution of the Cargo. The Mission a Great Success 479 LVI. GENKRAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS, AS THE CONQUEROR OF MEX ICO. 1817. General Taylor s Unbroken Scries 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 CONTENTS. 33 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 seat 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 Quick-Step. 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 487 LVIL 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 Fate of Former Explorers. Temperature of this Sea. Submerged Plains at its Bottom. Sheeted with Phosphorescent Foam. Topography, Width and Depth." Apples of Sodom " Described. The Pillar of Salt, Lot s Wife. . 494 LVIII. DISCOVERY OF GOLD AT SUTTER S MILL, CALIFORNIA. 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 Dis covery of Gold. On John A. Sutter s Land. Found by J. W. Marshall. Simple Accident That Led to It. Marshall s Wild Excitement. Shows Sutter the Golden Grains. A Dra matic 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 1857, 600,000. Gold in Ten Years, $600,000,000 500 LIX. ASTOR PLACE OPERA-HOUSE RIOTS, NEW YORK. 1849. Terrible Culmination of the Feud between Macready, the English Star Actor, and Forrest, the Great American Tragedian. Macready Commences to Perform, but is Violently Driven from the Stage. A Mob of 20,000 Men Surrounds the Theater, and Thunders at its Doors. Attempt to Fire and Destroy the House. Charge of the Military. Lamentable Loss of Life. Fame of these Great Actors. Their Former Mutual Friendship. Macready s Tour in this Country. Forrest Performs in Europe. Professional Jealousies Aroused. Open Rupture at Last. Macready Again in America. Engages to Play in New York. Opposi tion to Him There. Appears on the Stage, May Eighth. Fierce Tumult in the House. Groans, Hisses, Insults. He Stands Undismayed. Flight of the Audience. Re-appearance, May Tenth. The House Filled to the Dome. Riotous Yells and Cries." Down with the British Hog! "Heroic Demeanor on the Stage. Threats of the Raging Mob. Its Bloody Dispersion. Macready Leaves the Country 508 3 34 CONTENTS. LX. AWFUL VISITATIONS OF THE "ANGEL OF DKATH." 1849. Yellow Fever and Cholera Epidemics at Different Periods. Frightful Mortality and Panic in 1849. Business Abandoned, Churches Closed, Streets Barricaded, Cities Deserted. Proc lamation by the President of the United States. The Virtues, Passions, and Vices of Hu man Nature Strikingly Illustrated. Tens of Thousands Swept at Once from the Face of the Earth. Various Eras of American Epidemics. Wide and Ghastly Ravages. Self-Preserva tion 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 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." 515 LXI. MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN, A NOTED MILLIONAIRE OF BOSTON, BY PROF. JOHN W. WEBSTER, OF HARVARD COLLEGE. 1819. 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. Parkman s Wealth and Fame. Mysterious Disappear ance, November Twenty-third. Appointment with Professor Webster that Day. Their Un happy Pecuniary Relations. Search for the Missing Millionaire. Webster s Call on Park man s Brother. Explains the Interview of November Twenty-third. 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 Doctor Park- man s. Arrest of Webster at Night. Attempt at Suicide on the Spot. Behavior iu Court. His Atrocious Guilt Proved. Rendering the Verdict. He Boldly Addresses tho 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 523 LXII. THE UNITED STATES GRINNELL EXPEDITIONS OF 1850 AND 1853, TO THE ARCTIC SK AS. 1850. Search for Sir John Franklin, the Lost Navigator. Traces of His Melancholy and Mysterious Fate. Dr. Kane s Discovery of an Open Polar Sea, Three Thousand Square Miles in Area. Tho " Great Glacier," a Lofty and Dazzling Ice-Wall of Boundless Dimensions. The " Stars and Stripes" Carried Farther North than Any Other Flag. Origin of this Undertaking. Franklin s Bold Enterprise. No Tidings of Him for Years. Vessels Sent in Search. Lady Franklin s Warm Appeal. Mr. Grinnell s Noble Response. Fits Out Dellaven s Expedi tion. Sailing of the Advance and Rescue. Franklin s Winter Quarters Found. Dellaven Imbedded in Ice. Eighty Days Polar Darkness. Fruitless Efforts ; Return Home. Renewed Search by Dr. Kane. At the Extreme Solitary North. Its Terror and Sublimity. Mer cury and Whiskey Freeze Solid. No Sunlight for Five Months. A Vast Crystal Bridge. It Connects Two Continents. Kane Ice-Bound ; Awful Perils. One Thousand Three Hun dred Miles Traveled in Sledges. Final Escape ; Arrival Home. Dr. Hayes s Heroic Ad ventures 533 LXTIL 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 CONTENTS. 35 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. An Opera, the " Daughter of the Regiment." Barnum s Happy Conception. Proposes to Her this American Tour. His Generous Terms Accepted. She Reaches New York. Sunny and Joy ous Outburst. A Real " Jenny-Lind " Era. First Concert at Castle Garden. Tempest of Acclamation. Encores, Showers of Bouquets. Public Expectation Exceeded. .Jenny s Com plete Triumph. All the Receipts Given to Charity. Equal Enthusiasm Everywhere. Beau tiful Incidents. She is a Guest at the White House. Henry Clay at Her Concert. Web ster and the Nightingale. A Scene " Not Down on the Bills." Ninety-five Concerts Yield 8700,000 541 LXIV. REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN CALIFORNIA. 1851. Revolution in the Administration of Justice. Powerlessness and Indifference of the Regular Authorities. 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 Their Mercy. Harvests Reaped by Them. Corrupt Courts and Officers. The Vigilance Committee Formed. Prompt, Resolute, Powerful. The Criminals Taken Unawares. Instant Summons to Death. A Gallows at Midnight. Ex traordinary Horrors. Confessions by the Victims. Astounding 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 Move ment 550 LXV. 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 Excited by 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 ! " 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 Move ments. Allows Herself to be Distanced. Her Quality Soon Shown. No "Bellying" 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 558 LXVI. FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE IN A NEW YORK FIVE-STORY PUBLIC SCHOOL-HOUSE CONTAIN ING EIGHTEEN HUNDRED PUPILS. 1851. Panic Caused by a Call for " Water." Furious Rush of the Little Ones Throughout the Vast Building, to Escape the Supposed Fire. The Stair Railing Breaks, and They are Precipitated to the Bottom, in Helpless Agony. Nearly Fifty Children, in Their Beauty and Innocence Suffocated to Death. Hundreds of Families in Mourning. Slight Source of all this Horror. Suddeu Illness of a Teacher. Cries of " Help ! " for Her. Heard in the Other Rooms. Fatal Misapprehension. Instant and Awful Fright. Vain Attempts to Escape. They all Pour Forth at Once. The Street-Door Locked ! Bewildered Crowds. Their Headlong Descent. A Pile of Bodies Fourteen Feet Square. Their Sighs and Writhings. Arrival of the Firemen. Entrance Effected by Them. Thousands Waiting Outside. Indescribable Excitement. Anguish of Parents. Rescuing the Sufferers. Scenes Among the Little Ones. Sweet and Tender Devotion. Burial of the Innocents 567 36 CONTENTS. LXVII. APPEARANCE OF THE MARINE MONSTER KNOWN AS THE SEA-SERPENT, ALONG THE AT LANTIC COAST. 1851. Statements of Numerous Eye- Witnesses, as to Its Form, Size, Color, and Movements. Esti mated Length, One Hundred Feet. Its Body Cylindrical in Shape, and of the Diameter of a Large Cask. Effect of Shot upon the Animal. Astonishing Rapidity of Its Course. Observers Struck with Wonder and Awe at Such a Sight. The Monarch of the Deep. Opinions of Scientific Men. Existence of the Animal Proved. Evidence on this Point. Reliability of the Witnesses. Their Various Descriptions. Concurrence of Testimony. No Similar Sea Animal. Seen in Different Localities. Observed from Sea and Shore. Frequents New England. Nearer Views Obtained cf Him. Clear Weather, Smooth Seas. Drawings Made on the Spot. His Gigantic Dimensions. Linnapan Society s Report. Supposed to be the " Leviathan. * His Steady and Onward Pace. A Mile in Three Min utes. Attitude of the Body. Elevation of the Head. Dark Brown the Chief Color. . 575 L XVIII. RECEPTION OF GOVERNOR KOSSUTII, THE GREAT HUNGARIAN EXILE, AS THE INVITED GUEST OF THE NATION. 1851. Splendid Military Pageant in New York, on His Arrival. Welcomed and Banqueted by Presi dent 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, Congratu latory Addresses, Acclamations, 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. Kossuth and Suite on Board. His Landing at New York. Magnificent Preparations for Him. Invited to Washington. Speech before Congress. An Unprecedented Distinc tion. His Untiring Labors. Greatest Orator of the Day 583 LXIX. NAVAL EXPEDITION TO JAPAN, UNDER COMMODORE M. C. PERRY. 1S52. Negotiations to be Opened for Unsealing the Ports of that Empire to America. Letter of Friendship from the President of the United States to the Emperor. Distinguished Favor Shown the Representatives of the Great Republic. Ceremonies, Entertainments, and Diplo matic Conferences. Treaty of Peace, Amity, and Commercial Intercourse Concluded. Former Japanese Isolation Policy. Exclusive Privileges to the Dutch. Effects of this Re striction. European Efforts to Change It. Mission of Commodore Biddle. Seeks the Release of United States Sailors. Ordered to Depart Forthwith. Firm Conduct of Captain Glynn. Contempt for Japanese Etiquette. Champagne as a Mediator. Commodore Perry s Fine Fleet. The Letter in a Golden Box. Its Presentation to the Emperor. Commissioners Meet Commodore Perry. Their Attire, Manners, Etc. The Conference in Session. Friend liness of the Japanese. Civilities and Festivals. Reception on the Flag-Ship. Substance of the Treaty. A Talk with the Emperor. More Privileges Extended. . . *. . . 592 LXX. EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRY OF ALL NATIONS, IN NEW YORK. 1853. Construction 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. Inauguration of the Enterprise by President, Pierce. Five Thousand Contributors. Splen dor of the Palace of Industry by Day ; Its Gorgeous Illumination at Night. Eclat of the Great London Fair. Emulation Stimulated 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 Prog ress of the Enterprise. Interest of Foreign Countries Enlisted. Programme of Manage- CONTENTS. 37 ment. Brilliant Ceremony at the Opening. Celebrities Present : Speeches Made. Grand Hallelujah Chorus Sung. Constant Tide of Visitors. Beauty, Utility, Amusement. At tractions from Abroad. Contributions by Monarchs. Victoria s Beautiful Offering. The Grand Industries of Civilization. Lesson Taught by Such a Display. Luster Reflected on America GOO LXXI. Loss OF THE SPLEXDID COLLIXS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC, OF NEW YORK, BY COLLISION WITH THE IROX STEAMER VESTA. 185-4. 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 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 Con structed, 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. Pleas ure Tourists on Board. All of Mr. Collius s Family Lost 608 LXXII. ASSAULT ox THE Hox. CHARLES SUMXER, BY Hox. PRESTOX S. BROOKS. 1856. Twenty Sudden and Terrible Blows, with a Solid Gutta Percha Cane, Dealt upon Mr. Sum- ner s Bare Head. He Staggers and Falls, Senseless, Gashed, and Bleeding. Sumner s Great Kansas Speech for Free Soil and Free Labor. Speech by Senator Butler, of South Carolina. Mr. Sumner s Scorching Reply. Soutli Carolinians Offended. An Assault Determined On. Mr. Brooks Their Champion. Two Days WatcL .for His Victim. Finds Him Alone at His Desk. Approaches Unobserved. A Quick and Deadly Blow. Mr. Sumner is Instantly Stunned. His Ineffectual Defense. Brooks s Accomplices at Hand. Their Advantage over Sumuer. 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 616 LXXIII. FOUXDERIXG OF THE STEAMER CfiXTRAL AMERICA, IN A GALE, OFF CAPE HATTERAS. 1857. More than Four Hundred Lives Lost, and Two Million Dollars in Treasure. Fury and Terror of the Tempest. The Staunch and Noble Vessel Springs a Leak. Successive Great and Terrible Waves Break Over and Drag Her Under, in the Night. The Tale of Peril, Suffer ing, Despair, Parting, and Death. Unparalleled Nature of this Disaster. Hundreds of Homes Desolated. Gloom of the Public Mind. The Financial Panic Aggravated. Rise of the Fatal Gale. Hard Labor of the Steamer. A Leak Caused by the Strain. Incessant Working at the Pumps. Four Anxious Days. Approach of the Brig Marine. Women and Children Rescued. Perils of the Life-Boat. Terrible Height of the Sea. Han-owing Ex periences. The Two Little Babes. Gradual Filling of the Ship. Three Plunges, and She Sinks. Captain Herndon on the Wheel-House. His Sad but Heroic End. A Night on the Waves. Dead and Living Float Together. Narratives of the Survivors 626 LXXIV. 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 Coun try. Failure of the Oldest and Wealthiest Houses. Fortunes Swept Away in a Day. Pros tration of Every Branch of Industry. Prolonged Embarrassment, Distrust, and Suffering. 38 CONTENTS. The Panic of 1837 in 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. Rare Doings at the Counters. Wit, Mirth, Despair, and Ruin. Forty Thousand Persons in Wall Street. Factories, Foundries, etc., Stopped. Business Credit Destroyed. Root of the Whole Difficulty 035 LXXV. THE " GREAT AWAKENING " IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD, AND THE POPULAR 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 thy 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. Whiteiield. The Revival of 1857 Spon taneous. 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 Ring. "Awful " Gardner s Case 014 LXXVI. UNRIVALED PERFORMANCES BY PAUL MORPHY, THE AMERICAN CHESS CHAMPION. 1858. His Extreme Youth, Marvelous Gifts and Genius, and Astonishing Trumphs. The Most Renowned Players in America and Europe Vanquished by Him. His Wonderful Victories in Blindfold Games with the Veteran Masters of Chess. Morphy s Bust Crowned with Laurel in Paris. Honors and Testimonials at Home. Morphy s Personal History. Early Aptness for Chess. Skill When Twelve Years Old. Introduction to the Public. At tho National Chess Congress. Great Champions There. Morphy Takes the First Prize. Wins Eighty-One out of Eighty-Four Games. Professional Visit Abroad. Challenges the Chess Celebrities. His Boyish Appearance. Modesty and Great Memory. Aspect When at Play. His Brilliant Combinations. Feats Performed in Paris. Long and Profound Games. Great Match Against Eight. Unparalleled Spectacle. Victor Over Every Rival. Without a Peer in the World. Banquets to Him in Europe. America Proud of Her Son. . . 057 LXXVII. BURNING OF THE STEAMSHIP AUSTRIA, ON HER WAY FROM HAMBURG TO NEW YORK. 1858. She Takes Fire on the Eleventh Day, from Combustion of the Hot Tar Used in Fumigation. Three Decks Instantly in a Blaze. Inability to Stop the Engines. The Ship Continues on Her Course in Furious Flames. Torture and Death in Every Form. Nearly Five Hundred Men, Women, and Children Lost. A Hot Chain in the Bucket of Tar. Sudden and Singular Ig nition. Rapid Headway of the Flames. They Leap up the Shrouds. Powerlessness of the Officers. The Captain Panic-Stricken. Frantic Conduct of Passengers. Swamping of the Boats. Children Trodden Under Foot. Writhing in the Heat. Shrieks and Cries. Being Roasted Alive. Only One Boat Afloat. Jumping into the Waves. Last Embrace of Lovers. Adieus of Husbands and Wives. Seven Brothers and Sisters. Struggles of the Firemen. -A Living Wall of Fire. Fate of the Women. Father and Son." A Sail ! "Rescue of a Few 66 4 CONTENTS. 39 LXXV1II. POLITICAL DEBATE BETWEEN ABRAHAM LINCOLN* AND STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS, IN ILLI NOIS. 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 Jssue Involved. Eminent Character of the Combatants. Their Extraordinary Ability and Eloquence Universally Ac knowledged. The Discussions Attended by Friends and Foes. Victory, Defeat, Life and D^ath. Condition of the New Territories. Form of Constitution to be Decided. Domestic Institutions: Slavery. Mr. Douglas Advocates "Popular Sovereignty." " Prohibition " Urged by Mr. Lincoln. National Importance of the Question. The Public Mind Divided. Joint Debates Proposed. 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 Magnanimity. The Olive Branch. Shoulder to Shoulder as Unionists. Sudden Decease of the Great Senator 672 LXXIX. THIRTY THOUSAND MILES OF RAILWAY i.v 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 Sav ing of Time and Expense. Initiatory Undertakings in the United States. First American Railway with Steam as the Locomotive Power. Small Beginnings : Great Results. Amaz ing 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. Distant Sections and Interests Equalized. Stimulus to Industry. Vast x 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 lor lion. Luxury on Wheels. Palace and Sleeping Cars. Tremendous Speed Attained. American and Foreign Lines. Railways 16,000 Feet Above the Sea G79 LXXX. PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. 1859. Discoveries of Prodigious Quantities of Illuminating Oil in the Depths of the Earth. Boring of Innumerable Wells. Fabulous Prices Paid For Lands. Poor Farmers Become Million aires. The Supply of Oil Exceeds the Wants of the Whole Country. Immense Exporta- tions of the Article. Vast Source of National Wealth and Industry. Revolution in Artifi cial Light. Ancient Knowledge of this Oil. Floating on Ponds and Creeks. Its Collection and Use. Native Sources: Origin. Locality 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. En terprise of the Pioneers^ Sudden Fortunes Made. Other Side of the Picture. Towns and Cities Built. Fire : Awful Scenes and Losses.- Bringing the Oil into Market. Its Cheap ness and Excellence. Universal Introduction. Valuable for Various Purposes. . . . 687 LXXXI. FATAL DUEL BETWEEN HON. D. C. BRODERICK, AND HON. D. S. TERRY. 1859. Scene of the Meeting near San Francisco. Details of the Barbarous Encounter. Broderick Falls Mortally Wounded, by His Adversary. He Expires in Two Days. Flight of Terry. Society Shocked at the Event. Parallel Case of Messrs. Graves and Cillcy. Politics and Dueling in America. Broderick s Alleged Offense. Terry s Challenge Accepted. Terms of the Duel. Choice of Seconds and Arms. Aspect of the Two Men. Serious Bearing of 40 CONTENTS. Broderick. Terry s Fearlessness. Marking the Distance. Its Murderous Shortness. The Duelists Placed. Their Persons Examined. "Gentlemen, are you Ready ?" -The Word Given. Both Parties Fire. Broderick Shot in the Breast. Last Sufferings and End. Sorrow of the Community. His Body Lies in State. A Similar Deed of Horror. Con gressional Tragedy in 1838. Its Deadly Character 696 LXXXII. JOHN BROWN S CAPTURE OK HARPER S FERRY. VA. 1859. Seizure and Occupation of the United States Armory. A Bold Scheme to Free the Slaves. Attacked by the Militia, lie Retreats to the Engine House and Makes it His Fortress. The Building is Surrounded by Federal Troops and Forced by a Battering Ram. Brown, Refusing to Surrender, is Overpowered and Made Prisoner. His Genuine Heroism on the Scaffold. A Long Cherished Plan. Conference Held in Canada. Programme of Opera tions. Harper s Ferry the Strategic Point. First Active Movement at Night. Only Twenty-two Men in Force. The Town in Brown s Possession. Strange Scenes at Day break. Indescribable Consternation. Fighting and Bloodshed. News of the Attack Sent Off. Military Companies Pour in. Marines Sent from Washington. No Mercy Shown the Insurgents. Brown is Terribly Wounded. His Indomitable Fortitude. Tried for Treason and Murder. Conviction: Speech in Court. Admiration of Him by His Foes. Walks Fearless to the Gallows. Mounts the Fatal Platform. " 1 am Ready at any Time ! " . 701 LXXXIII. FALL OF THE GREAT PEMBEUTON MILLS IN LAWRENCE, MASS. 1860. Nearly One Thousand Persons Buried in the Ruins. Multitudes, Male and Female, in Youth and Beauty, Brought in a Moment to Agony and Death. Buisting Fo;th of a Sweeping Conflagration. Commingling of Horrible Sights and Sounds. Hair-Breadth Escapes. Three Fair and Beautiful Corpses Tight Together. The Calamity Instantaneous. Sensa tions of the Occupants. Two Acres of Ruins. Flames Suddenly Belch Forth. Thrilling Cries : Woeful Scenes. Efforts to Rescue the Wounded. Many Left to Their Fate. Thou sands of Excited Visitors. Sympathy and Relief. A Room Stored with the Dead. Won derful Escape of a Young Woman. Astonishing Presence, of Mind. Female Heroism and Devotion. Tender Girls Struggling in the Ruins. Despair and Suicide. Ladies Work the Fire Engines. Harrowing and Piteous Appeals. Cool Pluck of an Irishman. Reading the List of Victims. Touching Request of a Dying Girl. Endurance and Resignation. Ac count of the Avondale Colliery Disaster 712 LXXXIV. GRAND EMBASSY FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN, WITH A TREATY OF PEACE AND COM MERCE, 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 In terest Excited by this Extraordinary Mission. Their Oriental Costume, Manners, Ceremo nies, Etc. Japanese Distinction 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 7^1 LXXXV. ARRIVAL AND EXHIBITION, IN NEW YORK, OF THE IRON STEAMSHIP GREAT EASTERN. 1860. The Largest and Most Extraordinary Vessel Ever Constructed. Burden, 20,000 Tons ; Length, Six Hundred and Eighty Feet Tens of Thousands of Visitors from all Parts of the Union. CONTENTS. 41 Admiration of Her Majestic Proportions, Ease of Movement, and Her Splendid and Power, ful Machinery. Matchless Triumph of Human Genius and Skill. "Wonders of the World," So Called. Modern Achievements Pre-eminent. Marvels of Steam Application. First Crossing of the Atlantic. Voyage of the Savannah in 1818. Curiosity and Wonder Excited. Visited by Crowned Heads. Most Peculiar Reminiscences Building the Great Western. First Regular Ocean Steamer. Her Complete Success. Growth of Ocean Steam Transit. Conception of the Great Eastern. Her Nautical Peculiarities. Architectural Perfection. Superb Appointments Throughout. Working Power, Eight Thousand Horses. Ship s Weight, 12,000 Tons. Rated for Four Thousand Passengers. Appearance in New York Harbor. Salutes, Escorts, Etc. Greeted by Dense Throngs 729 LXXXVI. GENERAL WALKER S FILIBUSTERING EXPEDITIONS TO SONORA, NICARAGUA, AND HON DURAS. 1860. Character, Method, and Object of His Schemes. His Movements Marked by Bloodshed and Bold Usurpation of Authority. Retreat, Capture, and Court-Martial at Truxillo. Cool Res ignation to His Death-Sentence. Solemn March to the Place of Execution. Is Shot, and Instantly Expires. Walker s " Star of Destiny." Short-Sighted Calculations. Daring Qualities of the Man. Bitter Luck in Sonora. Starvation : Inglorious Flight. Nicaragua the Land of Promise. Contempt of Neutrality Laws. United States Officials Outwitted. Champagne vs. Handcuffs. Battles at Rivas and Virgin Bay. Splendid Successes of Walker. Styles Himself " The Regenerator." Treaty between Generals Walker and Cor ral. Corral Charged with Treason, and Shot. Combination Against Walker. His Escape to the United States. New but Abortive Attempts on Nicaragua. Turns Up Next at Trux illo. Is Defeated by the Honduras Troops. His Doom Announced to Him. Dying Declara> tions. A Volley ; Three Cheers ; the End 737 LXXXVII. TOUR OF His ROYAL HIGHNESS, ALBERT EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, THROUGH THE UNITED STATES. 1SGO. 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 President Buchanan. Courtesies and Ceremonials. Visit to Mount Vernon. At the Tomb of Washington. Unparalleled His torical 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. . . . 745 LXXXVIH. BOMBARDMENT AND REDUCTION OF FORT SUMTER. 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 Proclamation 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. Slavery the Cause of Contention. Culmination of the Antagonism. Disunion 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- 42 CONTENTS. enforce It. Prevented by Confederate Batteries. All Eyes Riveted on the Fort. Opening ot the Attack, April Fourteenth. Incessant and Tremendous Fire. Terms of Evacuation Accepted. Southern Rejoicings. The Great Military Outlook. Washington the National Key 753 LXXXIX. ASTONISHING FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING PERFORMED BY MR. JOHN S. RAREY. 1SG1. 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 Admira tion by Crowded Audiences. Brilliant Honors from Monarchs and Courts Abroad. Philos ophy 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 Sys tem 7U1 XC. 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 Disastrous 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 tin; Federal Capital. Irritation and Impatience 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-enforcements for the Confederates. Davis s Arrival on the Ground. He Exclaims, "Onward, My Brave Com rades ! " Their Wild Enthusiasm. A Lost Battle for the Union. Complete Demoralization. Three Miles of Scattered Troops. Arms, Stores, etc., Flung Away. Distressing Sights and Sounds. Thanksgiving Appointed by Davis. Te Deums Sung in the Southern Churches. Lessons Taught by this Battle 760 XCI. 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 Destruction 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 Warfare the World Over by this Remarkable Contest. How the Mer- rimac Changed Hands. -Burned and Sunk at Norfolk, Va. Her Hull Raised by the Confed erates. 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. Lieu tenant Worden Hears of the Battles. Resolves to Grapple with the Monster. The Two Together Next Day. A Scene Never to be Forgotten. Wordeu Turns the Tide of Fortune. Repulse and Retreat of the Merrimac. . , 778 CONTEXTS. 43 XCII. BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MARYLAND. 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 Bravery 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 Fear ful 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 787 XCIIT. PROCLAMATION* OF EMANCIPATION, AS A WAR MEASURE, BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 1863. 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 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. Opin ions and Discussions. Singular Reason for Delay. Mr. Lincoln 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 Proclamation. Promulga tion at the South. Scenes of Joy Among the Freedrnen. Enfranchisement Added to Free dom 796 XCIV. CAMPAIGN AGAINST VICKSBURG, "THE GIBRALTAR OF THE MISSISSIPPI," BY THE UNION FORCES. 1863. The Genius, Valor, and Resources of Both Armies Tasked to Their Utmost. Final Capitula tion 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. Geo graphical Importance of Vicksburg. Its Commanding Fortifications. Farragut s Naval Siege Powerless. Sherman s Attack Repulsed. Grant Assumes Active Command. Vigor ous Operations Undertaken. His Series of Victorious Battles. Futile Attempt to Storm Vicksburg. Hours of Terrific Cannonading. A Systematic Siege Begun. Thorough In vestment 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 : " Unconditional Surrender." The Victors Enter the City, July Fourth. Curious Reminiscences ^06 xcv. THREE DAYS BATTLE BETWEEN THE CONCENTRATED 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 44 CONTENTS. 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 M cade s Army. Face to Face With the Foe. Engagement between the Vanguards. Terrific Artillery Contests. Movements and Counter Movements. Severe Reveises 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 ! Iland-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 815 XCVI. ORATORICAL CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA S CAUSE IN ENGLAND, BV REV. II. W. BEECHKR. 18G3. Hi.s Olympian Speeches, in Defiance of British Sentiment, in the Great Cities of the Kingdom. His Eloquence Rises to the Very Crown of the Occasion. Superb Exhibition of Forensic Power in Liverpool. He Wrestles, Single-Handed and Triumphantly, for Three Hours, with a Vast and Tumultuous Mob in that City. Reception at Exeter Hall, London. Mr. Beech- er s Tour Undertaken for His Health. Reaches England, Homeward Bound. Civil Conflict Raging in America. Mr. Buecher Urged to Sp j .:ak 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. Boecher in Liverpool. Violent Efforts to Gag Him. A Maddened Sea of Insult. Taunts, Curses, Hisses, Fury. Stampings, Hootings. Yell- ings. Beecher s Pluck, and Good Humor. He Triumphs Over the Wild Tempest. A Spec tacle Never Before Witnessed. Grand Closing Scene in the British Capital. Vast and Excited Assembly. He Carries the House by Storm. Plaudits and Congratulations. . 825 xcvn. ERECTION AND INAUGURATION OF THE GREAT ORGAN IN THE BOSTON Music HALL. 18G3. Most Majestic and Perfect Instrument of the Kind in America. Almost without an Equal in the Whole World. Height, Sixty Feet; Width, Forty-eight Feet; Depth, Twenty-four Feet; Weight, Seventy Tons; Cost, $00,000. Its Vast and Enchanting Harmonies and Wondrous Frama of Architectural Beauty. The Masterpiece of Musical Art. Origin of the Enterprise. Dr. Upham s Grand Conception. Full Powers Conferred Upon Him. His Seven Years Labor and Care. America and Europe Explored. A Colossal Instrument Decided On. Object and Influence of Such. Contract for Its Construction in Germany. Unrivaled Mechanism of the Work. Completed, and Shipped for Boston. Three Months Tempestuous Voyage. Enshrinement of the Organ in a Case. Its Towers, Domes, and Sculptures. Wind Pipes, Thirty-two Feet Long. Eighty-nine Full Registers. Total Num ber of Pipes, Five Thousand Four Hundred and Seventy-four. Capacity of the Organ, Six Thousand Voices. Ease with which It is Performed. Marvelous Lights and Shades of Tone. First Exposition to the Public. Enthusiasm and Joy on the Occasion. Music, Poetry, Art, Beauty 83:} XCVIII. COMBAT BETWEEN THE ALABAMA, CAPTAIN SEMMES, AND THE KEARSAKGE, CAPTAIN WINSLOW, OFF CHERBOURG. 1864. The Alabama is Sunk after an Hour s Engagement, in Sight of the Two Great Maritime Pow ers of Europe. Semmes Throws His Sword Away, Jumps Overboard, and Escapes. Rela tive 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 Char acterPeculiar Model and Equipment. Adapted to Destroy, Fight, or Run. Adroit Ship ment 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. CONTEXTS. 45 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. Supe rior Gunnery of the Kearsarge. Its Fatal Effect on the Alabama. Incidents of this Renowned Fight 840 XCIX. ADMIRAL FARRAGUT S ACHIEVEMENTS AT NEW ORLEANS IN 1862, AND AT MOBILE BAY IN 1864 ; AND ADMIRAL PORTER S CROWNING VICTORY IN 1865, AT FORT FISHER. 1864. His Astonishing Feat of Rowing Past the Confederate Batteries. Fierce and Sanguinary Con test between the Admiral s Flag-ship, the Hartford, and Admiral Buchanan s Monster Ram, the Tennessee. The Latter Proves Herself, for a Time, a Match for the Whole Union Fleet. Farragut s Overwhelming Victory. Farragut Pressed to Join the South. His Unswerv ing 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. Ports Jackson and St. Philip Wrecked. New Orleans Again Under the United States Flag. Another Theater of Xaval Operations. Forts, Rams, Iron-Clads, 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 Cannonades. 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 848 C. GRAND MARCH OF THE UNION ARMY, UNDER GENERAL SHERMAN, THROUGH THE HEART OF THE SOUTH. 1864. Generals and Armies Baffled, and States and Cities Conquered, Without a Serious Disaster to the Victors. Display of Military Genius Unsurpassed in Any Age or Country. The Southern Confederacy Virtually Crushed Within the Coils of this Wide-Sweeping, Bold, and Resist less Movement. The Great Closing Act in the Campaign. Sherman s Qualities as a Com mander. His Great Military Success. 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 Cavalry. Thomas Defends the Border States. Success ful 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 Cap ital. 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 857 CI. 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 JEgis 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 s 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 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 United States Fla<f at Fort Sumter. Davis a Prisoner in Fortress Monroe 866 46 CONTENTS. CII. A-s \--IN ATION OK I i:r-iM-.\ r LINCOLN, A i l >i:i> < Tin AIKII. WASHINGTON, I;Y .1. WILKES BOOTH. 18(35. Conspiracy to Murder, Simultaneously, all the Chief Officers of the Government. The Most 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 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 Great Civil War. Dawn of Peace : Universal Joy. President Lincoln s Happy Frame of Mind. How He Passed His Last Day. Conversations on the Evening of April Four teenth. Makes an Engagement for the Morrow. Last Time He Signed His Name. Re luctantly Goes to the Theater. Arrives Late : Immense Audience. Plans and Movements of the Assassin. The Fatal Shot : a Tragedy of Horrors. Removal of the President to a Pri vate House. Speechless and Unconscious to the End. Death-Bod 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. . . . 876 cm. 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 Its 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 1858 and 1865. Great Preparations for I860. Exquisite Construction of the Cable. A Wealthy and Powerful Company. Cyrus W. Field, Its Master-Spirit. Employment of the Great Eastern. Laying tha 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 Twenty-seventh. 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. . . 888 CIV. COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 1869. Spikes of the Richest Gold 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. Seve.n Days from New York to San Francisco. Greatest Railroad Route on the Face of the^Earth. "Manifest Destiny" 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. National Difficulties to be Overcome. Feats of Engineering Involved. Triumphs of Science in this Respect. Mountains Tunneled, Riv ers 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 Two 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. Celebrations in the Principal Cities. Easy Journey Around the World. ... 896 CONTENTS. 47 CV. NATIONAL PEACE JUBILEE AND MUSICAL FESTIVAL FOR FIVE DAYS, IN BOSTON, IN HONOR OF THE RESTORATION OF THE UNION OF THE STATES. 1869. Ten Thousand Singers, an Orchestra of One Thousand Instruments, and Tens of Thousands of Spectators, in the Coliseum, an Immense Building Erected for the Occasion. Attendance of President Grant. Sublime and Inspiring Harmonies. Most Majestic Musical Demonstra tion of Modern Times. Origin of the Jubilee. P. S. Gilmore : His Zeal and Enthusiasm. All Discouragements Overcome. Magnificent Programme. Splendor of the Coliseum. It Covers Nearly Four Acres. Inauguration Ceremonies. View of the Audience. Scene of Surpassing Enchantment. Beauty of the Decorations. Overtures, Choruses, Anthems, Etc. Parepa-Rosa, Phillipps, Ole Bull. Their Professional Triumphs. Zerrahn, Tourjee, Eich- berg. The Famous " Anvil " Chorus. Chiming the City Bells. Novel Commingling of Artillery with Music. Tremendous Ovation to Grant. Half a Million People in the City. Testimonial to Mr. Gilmore. Last Day : Concert by 10,000 Children. Triumphant Success of the Jubilee 904 CVI. BURNING OF THE CITY OF CHICAGO, ILL., THE COMMERCIAL METROPOLIS or 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 Thou sand Acres, or Seventy-three Miles of Streets, with 17,450 Buildings, Destroyed : Loss, $200,000,000. Ignoble Origin of the Fire. Fatal Mistake of a Policeman. Combustibles all Around. A Strong Gale Prevailing. 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 Midnight Scene. Terror Indescribable. Flight for Life. Burning of the Bridges. Hopelessness, Desperation, 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 913 CVII. TERRIBLE FIRE IN THE BUSINESS HEART OF BOSTON. 1872. It Rages Fiercely, Night and Day, and Consumes the Widest and Most Magnificent Area of Solid Granite Warehouses on the Continent. Some Sixty-five Acres of these Massive and Apparently Indestructible Commercial Palaces Crumble Like Chalk in the Intense Heat. The Great Financial and Commercial Center of New England Destroyed. Surprising Char acter of this Fire. Comparison with that of Chicago. No Gale: Moderate Weather. Strange Rapidity of the Flames. They Spread in all Directions. Triumphant Sweep from Block to Block. Thoroughness of the Destruction. Iron and Stone No Barriers. Difficulties of the Situation. Great Height of the Stores. Narrowness of the Streets.- -Trinity Church in Ruins. Blowing up with Gunpowder. Grand and Terrible Scenes. Narrow Escape of the " Old South." State Street and its Treasures Reached. Victory at Last by the Firemen. Peril, Bravery, Death. A Whole City in Darkness. Some Eight Hundred Buildings Burned. Trades that Specially Suffered. Loss About $85,000,000 920 cviir. 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 Uni versal Co-operation Proposed. Results to be Realized by Such Combinations. Patrons of Husbandry and Sovereigns of Industry. Initiative Proceedings in 1807. First Grange Founded in Washington, D. C. Agriculture the Grand Basis. Mutual Protection and Advancement. Small Encouragement at the Beginning. Immense Growth in Five Years. 48 CONTEXTS. Activity in the West and South. Social and Moral Aspects. rian of Business Action. Partisan Prejudices Disavowed. Xo Political Tests Involved. Opinions of Eminent Leaders Cited. Views of Foreign Publicists. Vital Point in the Xew System. Commercial and Financial Theories. Grain and Cotton Products. Alleged Errors in Trade Customs. Indi- Tidual r.. Associated Efforts. Middlemen a Disadvantage. Substitute for Their Interven tion. The Case Illustrated. Difficulties and Remedies 927 CIX. CONSECRATION* OF THE FIKST CARDINAL IN THE UNITED STATES. 1875. The Venerable Archbishop McCIoskey, 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 Cathe- drai, by Clerical Dignitaries from All Parts of the Country. An Unparalleled Scene. Illus trious 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 (hunting. 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 934 CX. "MIRACLES OF SCIENCE," OR FOUR XEW 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 Pho nograph, 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. Edison s Improved Device. Its Special Charac teristics. Sanguine Expectations Entertained. Interest Excited by the Telephone. Enco miums from English Sources. Principles of Construction and Use. Simplicity and Service- ableness. 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 Microphone. A Touch or Tick Audible for Miles. Arrangement of the Apparatus. Curious Feats Accom plished. Explanation of this property 915 CXI. CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATION OF THE BIRTH OF THE 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 Obser vance. A Grand Exposition 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 Year s Ceremonials. Every City, Town, and Village, 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 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. Con gratulatory Letter from the Emperor of Germany 918 I. MOMENTOUS POLITICAL EVENTS OF ABSORBING INTEREST. 1776. DECLARATION OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. Birth of the Nation. 1785. FIRST MINISTER FROM THE UNITED STATES TO ENGLAND. John Adams and Old King George Face to Face. 1786. SHAYS S REBELLION IN MASSACHUSETTS. Armed Defiance of State and Federal Laws. 1787. FORMATION AND ADOPTION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. The United States no longer an Unorganized Nation. 1789. ELECTION AND INAUGURATION OF A PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. Unanimous Choice of George Washington. 1794. THE FAMOUS WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. Resistance to the United States Excise Tax. 1799. FOUNDING OF WASHINGTON CITY, THE NATIONAL CAPITAL. Establishment of the Government in that City. 1806. CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF AARON BURR. His Scheme of Conquest and Empire. 1826. FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. A Jubilee throughout the Land. 1826. DEATH OF EX-PRESIDENTS JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON, On the Fourth of July, the Nation s Half -Centenary. 50 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 1830. THE "GREAT DEBATE" BETWEEN SENATORS WEBSTER AND HAYNE. Known as "the Battle of the Giants." 1832. NULLIFICATION OUTBREAK IN SOUTH CAROLINA, UNDER CALHOUN, McDur- FIE, AND OTHERS. The Wrath of President Jackson Aroused. 1836. STRUGGLE FOR THE RIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS. John Quincy Adams s Eleven Days Dramatic Conflict, Single- Handed. 1837. PASSAGE OF THE FAMOUS EXPUNGING RESOLUTION, IN THE UNITED STATES SENATE. Memorable Parliamentary Scene at Midnight. 1842. REBELLION IN RHODE ISLAND, UNDER THOMAS W. DORR. Popular Suffrage and Political Equality Demanded. 1844. ANTI-RENT OR "BARN-BURNING" AGITATION IN NEW YORK. Terrible Violence by Persons Disguised as Indians. 1851. REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN CALIFORNIA. Sudden Seizure and Punishment of Criminals. 1S52. EXPEDITION TO JAPAN, UNDER COMMODORE PERRY. The Ports of that Entire Unsealed to America. 1858. POLITICAL DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. One of the Most Remarkable Oratorical Contests. 1859. JOHN BROWN AT HARPER S FERRY. A Bold Scheme to Free the Slaves. 1860. GRAND EMBASSY FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN. First Ambassadors Ever Sent From that Country. 1863. CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA S CAUSE IN ENGLAND, BY HENRY WARD BKECHER. He Wrestles, Victoriously, with Vast and Tumultuous Mobs. 1863. PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. Pronounced, by President Lincoln, " the Great Event of the Nineteenth Century" 1870. ENFRANCHISEMENT, BY CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT, OF THE COLORED RACE. Equality of All Men before the Law. 1872. THE GRANGE MOVEMENT AT THE WEST. Popular Organizations in the Interests of Labor. 1876. ONE HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC. Uitioersal Jubilee throughout the Land. TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 51 II. BATTLES, SIEGES, INSURRECTIONS, AND OTHER MILITARY OCCURRENCES. 1777. CAPITULATION OF GENERAL BUKGOYNE TO GENERAL GATES. First Royal Army Ever Surrendered to American. 1780. TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD. Plot to Deliver West Point to the British. 1781. SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS TO GENERAL WASHINGTON. Final Catastrophe to British Arms in America. 1783. ADIEU TO THE ARMY BY GENERAL WASHINGTON. Resigns his Great Commission and Returns his Sword to Congress. 1786. FIRST ORGANIZED REBELLION IN THE UNITED STATES. Led by Daniel Shays, of Massachusetts. 1791. GREATEST BATTLES WITH THE INDIANS. St. Glair s Defeat : Wayne s Victory. 1794. WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. Subdued by General Henry Lee. 1803. CHASTISEMENT OF THE BARBARY POWERS. Humiliation of Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. 1806. BURR S MILITARY EXPEDITION TO THE SOUTH-WEST. His Schemes of Conquest and Empire. 1813. HARRISON S VICTORY AT THE BATTLE OF THE THAMES. Death of Tecumseh. 1814. CONQUEST AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON, BY THE BRITISH. Flight of President Madison. 1815. JACKSON S TERRIBLE ROUT OF THE BRITISH AT NEW ORLEANS. Sudden and Decisive Close of the War. 1842. REBELLION IN RHODE ISLAND, UNDER THOMAS W. DORR. The Two Great Political Parties Arm and Take the Field. 1847. GENERAL TAYLOR S VICTORIOUS CAMPAIGN IN MEXICO. Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, Buena Vista, Etc. 1847. GENERAL SCOTT IN THE HALLS OF THE MONTEZUMAS. First Foreign Capital Ever Occupied by a United States Army. 52 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 1859. JOHN BROWN S SEIZURE OF HARPER S FERRY. Jfia Capture, Trial, and Execution, 1861. BOMBARDMENT AND REDUCTION OP FORT SUMTER. Inauguration of the Great Civil War in the United States. 1861. DISASTROUS DEFEAT OF THE UNION ARMY, AT BULL RUN, VA. First Important Engagement in the War of the Rebellion. 1862. BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, MD. Bloodiest Day Ever Known in America. 1863. SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG, "THE GIBRALTAR OF THE MISSISSIPPI." 37,000 Prisoners, 15 Generals, and Anns for 60,000 Men, the Trophies. 1863. THREE DAYS BATTLE AT GETTYSBURG, PA. A Decisive Union Victory, of Supreme Importance. 1864. SHERMAN S MARCH THROUGH THE HEART OF THE SOUTH. Display of Military Genius Unsurpassed in any Age. 1865. FALL OF RICHMOND, AND SURRENDER OF GENERAL LEE TO GENERAL GRANT. Overthroiv of the Four Years Gigantic Rebellion. 1865. RE-POSSESSION OF FORT SUMTER. The Old Flag Kaiseil Again on its Battlements. HI. BRILLIANT NAVAL ENGAGEMENTS AND HEROIC EXPLOITS. 1779. CAPTURE OF THE SHIP-OF-WAR SERAPIS, BY JOHN PAUL JONES. First American Naval Victor)/. 1804. BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. The Proud Corsair Flag Strikes to the Stars and Stripes. 1812. FIGHT BETWEEN THE FRIGATES CONSTITUTION AND GUERRIERE. The British Colors Struck to " Old Ironsides." 1812. WONDERFUL ESCAPE OF THE FRIGATE CONSTITUTION FROM A BRITISH FLEET. Splendid Naval Tactics of the Americans. 1813. PERRY S VICTORY ON LAKE ERIE. First Squadron Fight between England and America. TOPICAL OK CLASSIFIED LIST. 53 1814. MCDONOUGH S VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. Seventeen British Ensigns Disappear in Two Hsurs. 1862. EXTRAORDINARY COMBAT BETWEEN THE MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. Total Revolution in Naval Warfare. 1864. ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE KEARSARGE AND ALABAMA. Sinking of the Alabama after a Brilliant Contest of One Hour. 1864. HEROIC ACHIEVEMENTS OF ADMIRALS FARRAGUT AND PORTER. New Orleans and Mobile the Scenes of their Exploits. 1865. BRILLIANT CAPTURE OF FORT FISHER, N. C., BY ADMIRAL PORTER AND GENERAL TERRY. Pronounced, by Gen. Grant, one of the Great Successes that Ended the War. IV. SUPEEB ACHIEVEMENTS OF OEATOEY. 1830. THE GREAT DEBATE BETWEEN WEBSTER AND HAYNE, IN THE UNITED STATES SENATE. Known as " The Battle of The Giants." 1836. STRUGGLE FOR THE EIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS. John Quincy Adams s Dramatic Contest, Single-Handed, for Eleven Days. 1858 POLITICAL DEBATE BETWEEN LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS. One of the Most Remarkable Oratorical Contests. 1863. CHAMPIONSHIP OF AMERICA S CAUSE IN ENGLAND, BY HENRY WARD BEECHER. He Wrestles, Victoriously, with Vast and Tumultuous Mobs. V. CELEBEATED CRIMINAL CASES AND TEIALS, TEAGEDIES, MUTI NIES, DUELS, CONSPIEACIES, ETC. 1870. TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD. Darkest Deed of Infamy during the Revolutionary War. 1804. FATAL DUEL BETWEEN VICE-PRESIDENT BURR AND ALEXANDER HAMILTON. Hamilton Falls, Mortally Wounded. 1806. AARON BURR S TRIAL FOR HIGH TREASON. August Judicial Scene. 54 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 1826. DUEL BETWEEN HENRY CLAY AND JOHN RANDOLPH. Two Shots, and a Reconciliation. 1831. CAPTURE AND EXECUTION OF GIBBS, THE NOTED PIRATE. Known as " the Scourge of the Ocean " and the Enemy of Mankind. 1835. ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE PRESIDENT JACKSON IN THE UNITED STATES CAPITOL. The Perpetrator, Richard Laivrence, Proves to be a Lunatic. 1838. BARBAROUS DUEL BETWEEN HONS. W. J. GRAVES AND JONATHAN GIL- LEY, MEMBERS OF CONGRESS. Cilley Slain at the Third Firing. 1841. COLD-BLOODED MURDER OF SAMUEL ADAMS BY JOHN C. COLT, IN NEW YORK. One of the Most Celebrated of Modern Crimes. 1842. MUTINY ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES BRIG-OF-WAR SOMERS. Hanging of Spencer and Other Ringleaders from the Yard-arm. 1849. ASTOR PLACE OPERA-HOUSE RIOTS, NEW YORK. Feud between the Two Great Tragedians, Forrest and Macready. 1849. MURDER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN, A BOSTON MILLIONAIRE, BY PROF. J. W. WEBSTER, OF HARVARD COLLEGE. Intense Interest in this Case, in both Hemispheres. 1851. REIGN OF THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE IN CALIFORNIA. Swift and Terrible Dealings with Criminals. 1856. ASSAULT ON HON. CHARLES SUMNER, IN THE UNITED STATES SENATE CHAMBER, BY P. S. BROOKS. Twenty Hard and Rapid Blows on the Senator s Bare Head. 1859. FATAL DUEL BETWEEN HON. D. C. BRODERICK, UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM CALIFORNIA, AND CHIEF JUSTICE TERRY. Broderick Mortally Wounded ; His Speedy Death. 1860. WALKER S FILIBUSTERING EXPEDITIONS. His Retreat, Capture and Execution. 1865. ASSASSINATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. The Most Exalted and Beloved of Mortal Rulers. 1865. TRIAL OF THE ASSASSINATION CONSPIRATORS. Their Swift and Awful Dnom. TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 55 VI. WONDERFUL PHENOMENA OF THE EARTH, OCEAN, AND HEAVENS. 1780. MYSTERIOUS DARK DAY IN THE NORTHERN STATES. The End of the World Supposed to be at Hand. 1806. GREATEST TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE EVER KNOWN. Five Minutes Total Obscuration at Noonday. 1811. DESOLATING EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. All Over the Mississippi to the Atlantic Coast. 1815. THE EVER-MEMORABLE SEPTEMBER GALE. Unparalleled Since the Settlement of the Country. 1833. SUBLIME METEORIC SHOWER ALL OVER THE UNITED STATES. The Whole Firmament in Fiery Commotion for Several Hours. 1837. MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS COVERING THE WHOLE HEAVENS. Visible All Night to Millions of Observers. 1843. APPEARANCE or A FIERY COMET AT MID-DAY. It Sweeps through the Sky, in Plain Sight, for Several Weeks. 1851. VISIT OF THE MARINE MONSTER, CALLED THE SEA-SERPENT, ALONG THE ATLANTIC COAST. Accounts Given by Eye-Witnesses. 1868. DISASTROUS EARTHQUAKES IN CALIFORNIA. Lives Lost and Property Destroyed, in 65 and 68. 1869. TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE SUN. Most Interesting and Important Observations of the Phenomenon Ever Made. VII. EXTRAORDINARY DISCOVERIES AND INVENTIONS, SCIENTIFIC EX PEDITIONS, AND THE SPLENDID TRIUMPHS OF MECHANICAL GENIUS. 1793. WHITNEY S GREAT COTTON-GIN INVENTION. Revolution in the Prospects and Power of the South. 1807. FULTON S APPLICATION OF STEAM TO NAVIGATION. First Steam-boat Voyage on American Waters. 56 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 1835. MORSE S INVENTION OF THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. The Scientific Miracle of the Aye. 1838. EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE SOUTH SEAS, UNDER COMMODORE WILKES. Discovery of the Great Antarctic Continent. 1842. FREMONT S EXPLORATION OF THE FAR NORTH-WEST. Plants the American Flagon the 11 iff/test Peak of the Rocky Mountains. 1846. DISCOVERY OF PAINLESS SURGERY BY THE INHALATION OF ETHER. Most Beneficent Boon to Humanity Ever Conferred by Science. 1846. INVENTION OF THAT WONDROUS MECHANISM, THE SEWING MACHINE. Romantic Genius and Perseverance of tit e Inventor. 1847. EXPEDITION TO THE JORDAN AND DEAD SEA, UNDER LIEUTENANT LYNCH. The " Sea of Death" 11 Explored, Sounded, and its Mysteries Solved. 1848. DISCOVERY OF GOLD AT SUTTER S MILL, CALIFORNIA. California Becomes the El Dorado of the World. 1850. GRINNELL EXPEDITIONS TO THE ARCTIC SEAS. Doctor Kane Discovers an Open Polar Sea. 1851. VICTORY OF THE YACHT AMERICA, IN THE INTERNATIONAL RACE AT COWES. She Wins " The Cup of all Nations." 1852. EXPEDITION TO JAPAN, UNDER COMMODORE PERRY. Opening of that Empire to American Intercourse. 1853. EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRY OF ALL NATIONS, IN NEW YORK. Splendid Display of the Arts and Treasures of Civilization. 1859. THIRTY THOUSAND MILES OF RAILWAY IN THIRTY YEARS, AND 80,000 IN HALF A CENTURY. Widespread Social and Business Revolution Produced. 1859. PETROLEUM EXCITEMENT IN PENNSYLVANIA. Discovery of Vast Quantities of Illuminating Oil in the Depths of the Earth. 1860. EXHIBITION, IN NEW YORK, OF THE MAMMOTH STEAMSHIP GREAT EASTERN. Largest Vessel Ever Built. 1863. INAUGURATION OF THE GREAT ORGAN IN BOSTON. sf Majestic and Perfect Instrument in America. TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 57 1866. SUCCESSFUL LAYING OF THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH CABLE. The Grandest of Human Enterprises. 1869. COMPLETION AND OPENING OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. Junction of the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean. 1876. THE "MIRACLES OF SCIENCE," OR FOUR NEW WONDERS OF THE WORLD. The Electric Light the Telephone the Phonograph the Microphone. VIII. REMARKABLE REFORMS, DELUSIONS, AND EXCITEMENTS, IN THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS WORLD, ETC. 1830. FOUNDING OF THE MORMON CHURCH BY JOSEPH SMITH. Origin, Character, and Progress. 1840. " WASHINGTONIAN " OR TEMPERANCE REFORMATION. Career of Haivkins, Mitchell, Gough, and Others. 1843. EXPECTED DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD. Rev. William Miller s Second Advent Predictions. 1844. Two HUNDRED YEARS OF FREE POPULAR EDUCATION. Most Enlightened and Successful System in the World. 1847. THE PHENOMENA OF "SPIRITUAL MANIFESTATIONS." Singular and Humble Origin, and World-wide Development. 1847. VOYAGE OF THE UNITED STATES SHIP-OF-WAR JAMESTOWN, WITH FOOD FOR IRELAND. First War Vessel Ever Sent on Such a Mission of Mercy. 1849. VISIT OF FATHER MATHEW, THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE. His 600,000 American Converts to Total Abstinence. 1857. THE "GREAT AWAKENING" IN THE RELIGIOUS WORLD. Known, as the American Pentecost. 58 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 1863. PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION- TO THE SLAVES. Millions of Slaves Declared to be Forever Free. 1875-6. THE POPULAR REVIVAL MOVEMENT UNDER MESSRS. MOODY AND SANKEY. Great Success of these Earnest and Devoted Evangelists. 1875. CONSECRATION OF THE FIRST CARDINAL IN THE UNITED STATES. Archbishop McCloskey becomes a Prince in the Church. IX. POPULAR OVATIONS, NATIONAL JUBILEES, PAGEANTS, FEATS, ETC. 1824. FAREWELL VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA. The Invited Guest of a Grateful Republic. 1826. CELEBRATION OF THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. Sadden Death of Ex-Presidents Adams and Jefferson, on the Day of the Jubilee. 1849. TOUR OF FATHER MATIIEW, THE APOSTLE OF TEMPERANCE. A Joyous Welcome Extended Him, Throughout the Land. 1850. BRILLIANT MUSICAL TOUR OF JENNY LIND. A Whole Continent Enchanted with Her Melodies. 1851. RECEPTION OF Gov. KOSSUTH, OF HUNGARY. Enthusiastic and Multiplied Ovations. 1858. MORPHY S MARVELOUS CHESS TRIUMPHS. Vanquishes the Most Renowned Players in Europe and America. 1860. GRAND EMBASSY FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN. Curious and Extraordinary Tour to the Great Cities. 1860. ARRIVAL AND TOUR OF THE PRINCE OF WALES, ENGLAND S FUTURE KING. Received with Magnificent Honors and Hospitalities, as the Nations Guest- 1861. RAREY S ASTONISHING FEATS OF HORSE-TAMING. Wonder and Admiration from Crowded Audiences. 1863. INAUGURATION OF THE COLOSSAL ORGAN IN BOSTON. The Masterpiece of Modern Musical Art. 1869. NATIONAL PEACE JUBILEE AND MUSICAL FESTIVAL. Ten Thousand Singers, and an Orchestra of One Thousand Players. 1871. JOURNEY OVER THE LAND, OF THE DUKE ALEXIS, OF RUSSIA. Snn of the Emperor Alexander. TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. 59 1874. VISIT OF KING KALAKAUA, OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. First Instance of a Reigning Crowned Head entering the United States. 1876. ONE HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY OF THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC. Universal, Jubilee Throughout the Land. X. APPALLING PUBLIC CALAMITIES, DISASTERS, PANICS, ETC. 1799. DEATH OF GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, AND AMERICA S MOST ILLUSTRIOUS CITIZEN. The Whole World Does Honor, by Eulogy and Lamentations, to His Exalted Worth and Immortal Fame. 1811. DESOLATING EARTHQUAKE AT THE WEST. All Along the Valley of the Mississippi. 1815. THE EVER-MEMORABLE SEPTEMBER GALE. Unparalleled Since the Settlement of the Country. 1835. TREMENDOUS FIRE IN NEW YORK, IN THE RICHEST LOCALITY IN AMERICA. 700 Richly Filled Warehouses laid in Ashes, in the Dead of Winter. 1844. EXPLOSION ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES STEAMER PRINCETON. The Secretaries of State and the Navy Instantly Killed. 1849. ASTOR-PLACE OPERA-HOUSE RIOTS, NEW YORK. A Mob of 20,000 Men : Lamentable Loss of Life. 1849. AWFUL VISITATIONS OF THE "ANGEL OF DEATH." Yellow Fever and Cholera Scourges, at Different Periods. 1851. FRIGHTFUL PANIC IN A N. Y. SCHOOL OF EIGHTEEN HUNDRED PUPILS. Scores of Children Suffocated to Death. 1854. Loss OF THE SPLENDID COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC. Collision with Steamer Vesta, in Mid-Ocean, at Noonday, in a Dense Fog. 1857. FOUNDERING OF THE STEAMER CENTRAL AMERICA. More than 400 Lives Lost, and $2,000,000 in Treasure. 1857. TERRIBLE CRISIS IN THE BUSINESS AND FINANCIAL WORLD. Known as " the Great Panic." 1858. BURNING OF THE STEAMSHIP AUSTRIA. Near/I/ 500 Lives Lost. 60 TOPICAL OR CLASSIFIED LIST. I860. FALL OF THE PEMBERTON MILLS, IN LAWRENCE, MASS. Nearly 1,000 Persons Buried in the Ruins. 18G5. ASSASSINATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. Darkest Pftye in the History of the Nation. 18G8. DISASTROUS EARTHQUAKE IN CALIFORNIA. Severe and Repeated Shocks Over a Wide Extent. I860. AVONDALE COLLIERF DISASTER, IN PENNSYLVANIA. More than 100 Suffocated in the Mines. 1871. BURNING OF CHICAGO, -ILL., THE COMMERCIAL METROPOLIS OF THE NORTH WEST. 73 Miles of Streets, with 17,450 Buildings, Destroyed. 1872. TERRIBLE FIRE IN THE BUSINESS HEART OF BOSTON. The Great Financial and Mercantile Center oj New England Consumed. NO. SUBJECT. PA 1. ILLUSTRATED GILT AND COLORED TITLE- PAGE. 2. SIGNING THE DECLARATION OF INDEPEND ENCE (FRONTISPIECE). 3. Glory of the American Century, - 4. The Opened Pages, ------ 5. The Record of Time, ------ 6. Symbolical Head-piece, - 7. Genius of Art, ------- 8. Ringing of ihe Bell, July 4th, 1776, - - - 9. Hall of Independence, Philadelphia, 1776, 10. Gates s Head-quarters, - 11. General Burgoyne; Portrait and Autograph, - 12. General Gates; Portrait and Autograph, 13. CAPITULATION OF BUP.GOYNE S ARMY, - 14. Hoisting First Naval Flag, ----- 15. John Paul Jones; Portrait and Autograph, - 36. FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY, 17.- WONDERFUL DARK DAY, MAY 19, 1780, - 18. Traveling during the Dark Day, - 19. Change of Scene after the Dark Day, 20. Price of Arnold s Treason, ... 21. Capture of Andre. ------ 22. Benedict Arnold; Portrait and Autograph, 23. West Point in 1780, 24. General Arnold s Head-quarters, - 25. The House where Corn wallis Surrendered, 26. CORNWALLIS S SURRENDER. - - - - 27. Corn wallis; Portrait and Autograph, 28. Washington s Sword, ------ 29. The Washington Kim, Cambridge, Mass., 30. WASHINGTON S RESIGNATION, - 31. Amity between England and America, 32. George the Third; Portrait and Autograph, - 33. FIRST MINISTER TO ENGLAND, RECEPTION OF JOHN ADAMS, ------ 34. John Adams; Portrait and Autograph, - GE. NO. SUBJECT. PAGE 35. Scene in Shays s Rebellion, - 125 35. SHAYS s FORCES IN MASSACHUSETTS, - 127 37. Daniel Shays; Portrait and Autograph, - 128 7 38. 39. General Lincoln ; Portrait and Autograph, 130 16 40. CONVENTION AT PHILADELPHIA, 1787, - 134 17 41. Franklin Pleading for Pacification, - - - 136 49 42. Washington s Inauguration Bible, - - - 139 Gl 43. FIKST INAUGURATION OF A PRESIDENT, 141 C5 44. Presidential Mansion, 1789, - 143 07 45. PreMdential Mansion, 1876, - 143 72 46. Treating with the Indians, - - 146 74 47. WAYNE S DEFEAT OF THE INDIANS, 148 74 48. Anthony Wayne; Portrait and Autograph, - 150 77 49. General St. Clair; Portrait and Autograph, - 151 81 50. "Little Turtle"; Portrait, - 152 83 51. Results of the Cotton-Gin, - - - - 153 84 52. ELI WHITNEY S COTTON-GIN, 1793, 155 88 53. Eli Whitney; Portrait and Autogra/ih, - 157 89 54. Causes of the Whiskey Insurrection in Penn- ICO 93 97 55. Famous Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsylvania, 1(51 99 5fi. David Bradford ; Portrait, - - - - 164 100 57. General Henry Lee; Portrait, - - - 166 101 58. WASHINGTON, D. C., IN 1876, - 171 172 102 104 59. 60. Symbolic Statue of America, Surmounting the TT O / 1 172 106 110 61. Martha Washington : Portrait and Autograph, 175 112 62. DEATH OF WASHINGTON. DECEMBER 14, 1799, 177 114 63. George Washington, as Colonel, - 178 115 64. George Washington, General U. S. A., 179 119 65. George Washington, President of the United 120 States; Portrait, and Autograph, - 179 66. . 180 Tomb of Washington, . . . 182 122 123 67. 68. U. a. Irinuteto isartiary, - Commodore Dale ; Portrait and Autograph, - 183 G2 ILLUSTRATIONS. BO. SUBJECT. 69. Commodore Preble ; Portrait and Autograph, 184 70. Commodore Bainbridge ; Portrait and Auto graph, -------- 71. Burning of the Philadelphia, - - - - 72. Commodore Decatur ; Portrait and Auto graph, 73. BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI, - - - - 74. Monument to Alexander Hamilton, 75. Alexander Hamilton ; Portrait and Autograph, 76. Aaron Burr; Portrait and Autograph, - 77. SCENE OF THE BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL, WEKHAWKEN, ------ 78. TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE, IN 1806, - 79. Progress of the Solar Eclipse, - - - - 80. TOTAL ECLIPSE, IN I8f>9, - - - - - 81. Eclipse, as seen in Brazil, - - - - 82. Burr s Flight, 83. BREAKING DP OF BURR S EXPEDITION, 8t. Burr and His Deluded Followers, - - - 85. Theodosia; Portrait aiul Autograph, 86. First Steam boat on the Hudson, - - - 87. Robert Fulton ; Portrait and Autograph, 88. FULTON S FIRST STEAM BOAT, - 89. After the Earthquake, - 90. Scene of the Great Earthquake in the West, 91. EARTHQUAKE SCENE IN SAN FRANCISCO, - 92. Captain Hull; Portrait, - - - - - 93. ACTION BETWEEN THE FRIGATES CONSTI TUTION AND GUERRIERE, - - - - 91. Perry s Flag on Lake Erie, - - - - 93. Commodore Perry; Portrait and Autograph, - 96. BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE, PERRY S VICTORY, 97. General Harrison ; Portrait and Autograph, - 241 98. A Cloud on the National Escutcheon, 9!). General Winder; Portrait and Autograph, 103. President Madison; Portrait, - 101. CAPTURE AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON BY THE BRITISH, IN 1814, - - - - 102. Jack s Offering to his Country, - 10 1. Commodore MrDonough ; Portrait, 104. McDoxouGH s VICTORY ON LAKE CHAM- PLAIN, -------- 105. American Defenses at New Orleans, 106. Andrew Jackson ; Portrait and Autograph, - 260 107. BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS, JACKSON S TERRIFIC SLAUGHTER OF THE BRITISH, 108. Destruction by the Great Gale and Flood, 109. The Ever- Memorable Gale, September 23, 1815, 110. Horrors of the Whirlwind throughout New England, ------- 111. The Landing of Lafayette at New York, 112. Lafayette; Portrait and Autograph, 113. Sword of Honor Presented to Lafayette, - 276 114. Lafayette s Residence, - - - 277 115. Lafayette s Birthplace, - 116. Laf iyette 8 Tomb, - - - - - 117. Preliminaries of the Code of Honor, 118. Henry Clay ; Portrait and Autograph, - 119. John Randolph ; Portrait and Autograph, 120. DUELING-GROUND AT BLADENSBURO, 121. The Jefferson Mansion at Montlcello, - 122. Thomas Jefferson; Portrait and Autograph, - 294 123. The Adams Mansion at Quincy, - - - 296 124. The Victor s Wreath. - - - - 125. Robert Y. Hayne ; Portrait, - 126. <L>anlel Webster; Portrait, ... 127. Webster s Reply to Hayne, - 128. Joseph Smilh; Portrait and Autograph, 129. Brigham Young; Portrait and Autograph, 130. Mormon Temple, - 312 131. SALT LAKK CITY, THE MORMON ZION, OK. NO. 184 132. 184 133. 185 134. 186 135. 187 136. 189 137. 190 138. 190 139. 140. 193 141. 197 198 142. 199 143. 202 204 144. 208 14.1. 208 146. 210 147. 212 148. 213 215 149. 218 150. 220 223 151. 227 152. 153. 200 154. 234 2I!6 155. 238 156. 241 157. 242 158. 244 159. 246 160. 247 250 161. 251 162. 254 163. 257 164. 260 165. 1C6. 262 167. 264 168. 266 169. 170. 2C9 272 171. 274 172. 276 173. 277 174. 279 281 175. 282 176. 284 177. 286 178. 288 292 179. 294 180. 2% 297 181. 299 182. 301 304 183. 308 310 184. 312 185. 213 186. SUBJECT. PAGE. Appeal of a Beautiful Girl to Gibbs to Spare her Life, - - - - 314 Pirate Gibbs; Portrait, ----- 316 GIBBS BUTCHERING THE CREW OF ONE OF ins PRIZES, ------- 3ig Favorite SUte Emblem, S. C., - - - - 320 Old State-House at Columbia, - - - -322 George McDuftie; Portrait and Autograph, - 324 J. C. Calhoun; Portrait and Autograph, - 326 METEORIC SHOWER AT BOSTON, - 329 Meteoric Shower, as been at Niagara Falls, - 331 Remarkable Meteoric Display on the Missis sippi, -334 The Preservation, 337 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON, ------- 339 Richard Lawrence ; Portrait, - 341 Hanjiiiij.r the Telegraph Wire, - - - - 345 THE ORIGINAL TELEGRAPHIC INSTRUMENT, 347 Professor Morse ; Portrait and Autograph, - 349 Orders of Glory Conferred on Professor Morse, - - - a">l View of Wall Street during the Fire, - - 355 THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION, AS VIEWED FROM COENTIES SLIP, - - - - 357 Ruins of the Merchants Exchange, - - 360 Monster Petition to Congress, ... - sr.2 John Quincy Adams; Portrait and Autograph, 364 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS DEFENDING THE RIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS, - - 3T8 Safe place for the Key to the Public Funds, - 373 Thomas H. Benton ; Portrait and Autograph, 375 Fac Simile Copy of Expunging Resolution, - 377 Singular Form of Auroral Arch, - - - 379 MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS OF NO VEMBER 13 AND 14, 1837, - - - - 381 View of the Aurora Borealis In its Early Stages, - - 384 Captain Wilkes; Portrait and Autograph, - 388 VIEW OF THE ANTARCTIC CONTINENT DIS COVERED BY COM. WILKES, U. S. N. - 390 Wilkes s Party Dealing with the Savages, - 392 Effect of the Temperance Reformation, - - 393 Signing the Pledge, - - - - - 396 DISTINGUISHED TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES, 399 Exploring the North-west, - 402 Planting American Flag on the Rocky Moun tains, by Fremont, ----- 404 John C. Fremont; Portrait and Autograph, - 405 Fremont on his Great Exploring Tour to the Far West and Rocky Mountains, - - - 406 Charter vs. Constitution, - - - - 408 Thomas W. Dorr; Portrait and Autograph, - 410 Governor King; Portrait and Autograph, - 412 FINAL DISPERSION OF GOVERNOR DORR AND ins FORCES, - - - - - 413 The Black Flag, 415 Captain McKenzie; Portrait and Autograph, 417 Philip Spencer; Portrait and Autograph, - 419 HANGING OF RINGLEADERS FROM THE YARD-ARM, ------- 421 View of the Comet when Nearest the Earth, - 427 APPEARANCE OF THE COMET IN FULL SPLENDOR, - - - - 428 Telescopic View of the Comet, - - 430 The Great Day Prophesied by the Second Ad- ventists, - 431 SYMBOLICAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE SEC OND ADVENT PROPHECIES, - - 433 William Miller; Portrait and Autograph, - 437 Stockton s Great Gun, the " Peacemaker," - 439 President Tyler; Portrait and Autograph, - 440 ILLUSTRATIONS. 63 NO. 1ST. 188. 189. 190. SUBJECT. PAGE. Secretary Gilmer; Portrait and Autograph, - 442 Explosion of the Great Gun on Board the United States Steamship Princeton, - - 443 Secretary Upshur; Portrait and Autograph, - 444 Commodore Stockton ; Portrait and Auto- NO. 251. 252. 253. Of^l 191. 448 Zt>z. 192. Yale College in 1784, - 449 255. 193. Old King s College, ------ 449 256. 194. 1 Ot First Harvard College, - 449 Itw. 196. Normal School, New York, - 450 451 257. 197. Yale College, ------- 453 258. 198. Harvard College, ------ 454 259. 199. Relieving Pain by the Use of Elher, 456 200. The Three Claimants of the Discovery of 260. Painless Surgery, by Ether, - 458 261. 201. MONUMENT ERECTED IN HONOR OF THE 262. DISCOVERY OF ETHER, - 462 202. The Inventor Toiling in His Garret, 464 263. 203. Elias Howe, Jr.; Portrait and Autograph, 466 264. 204. THE OLD AND NEW: SEWING BY HAND AND 2G5. MACHINE, ------- 468 205. House in which Spiritual Rappings Originated, 472 206. The Misses Fox; Portraits - 474 266. 207. D D Home Portrait - 475 OCT 208. Cora L. V. Hatch; Portrait, - - - - 477 - >i * 209. Spiritual Autograph of Lord Bacon, 477 210. A. J. Davis; Portrait, - 477 268. 211. Judge Edmonds; Portrait, - 477 269. 212. Spiritual Autograph of Swedenborg, 477 270. 213. Scene of Misery during the Famine, 479 271. ,214. Corn for the Land of Want and Woe, - 482 272. 215. ARRIVAL OF THE JAMESTOWN AT CORK, 484 273. 216. THE STORMING OF CHAPULTEPEC, 487 274. 217. President Polk; Portrait and Autograph, 488 218. General Taylor; Portrait and Autograph, 489 275. 219. Santa Anna; Portrait and Autograph. - 490 276. 220. General Scott; Portrait and Autograph, 491 277. 221. GENERAL SCOTT S GRAND ENTRANCE INTO THE MEXICAN CAPITAL, - 492 278. 222. Lieutenant Lynch; Portrait and Autograph, 496 279. 223. VALLEY OF THE JORDAN AND DEAD SEA, 497 280. 224. Right Bank of the Dead Sea, - - - - 498 225. Mining Operations in California, - - - 500 281. 226. SUTTER S MILL, WHERE GOLD WAS FIRST 282. 502 00 > 227. 228. John A. Sutter; Portrait, - 503 ifiOo* 284. 229. Forrest, as Spartacus, - 508 285. 230. Edwin Forrest; Portrait and Autograph, 510 286. 231. W. C. Macready; Portrait and Autograph, - 511 232. ASTOR PLACE OPERA-HOUSE RIOTS, - 513- 287. 233. Struck with the Cholera, - - - - - 515 288. 234. MONUMENT TO THE VICTIMS OF CHOLERA, 517 235. Horrors of the Great Epidemic, - 519 289. 236. Professor Webster s Murder Appliances, 523 290. 237. Doctor Parkman; Portrait and Autograph, - 525 291. 238. Professor Webster; Portrait and Autograph, 527 292. 239. PROFESSOR WEBSTER S CELL IN PRISON, - 529 293. 240. Henry Grinnell; Portrait and Autograph, - 534 294. 241. The Advance and Rescue, - 536 295. 242. Doctor Kane; Portrait and Autograph, - 538 296. 243. VIEW OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS, - - - 539 297. 244. Jenny Lind; Portrait and Autograph, - 543 298. 245. P. T. Barnum; Portrait and Autograph, 545 299. 246. Jenny Lind s Appearance at Castle Garden, - 547 300. 247. Double Execution in San Francisco, 550 301. 248. Seal of the California Vigilance Committee, 552 302. 249. EXECUTIONS BY THE VIGILANCE COMMIT 303. TEE, IN SAN FRANCISCO, - - - - 555 304. 250. George Steers; Portrait, - - - - - 560 SUBJECT. PAGE. YACHT AMERICA; J. C. STEVENS, COMMO DORE, ------- - 562 " Cup of All Nations," Won by the America, 564 School-House on Greenwich Avenue, New York, the Scene of the Awful Panic, - 569 Frightful Catastrophe in a Public School- House, New York, ----- 571 Monster Sea-Serpent at Full Length, - - 575 APPEARANCE OF THE HUGE SEA-SERPENT ALONG THE ATLANTIC COAST, - - - 579 17. United States Steamer Mississippi, Convey ing Kossuth, -------583 Governor Kossuth; Portrait and Autograph, 585 GRAND MILITARY RECEPTION OF GOV ERNOR KOSSUTH IN NEW YORK, - - 588 Treaty of Peace, Amity, etc., - - - - 592 Commodore Perry; Portrait and Autograph, 594 NAVAL EXPEDITION TO JAPAN, UNDER COM MODORE M. C. PERRY, ----- 597 Interior of the World s Fair, New York, - 600 Theodore Sedgwick ; Portrait and Autograph, 602 CRYSTAL PALACE OF NEW YORK, FOR THE EXHIBITION OF THE INDUSTRIES OF ALL NATIONS, ------- 604 Steamship Arctic, ------ 608 Loss OF THE COLLINS STEAMSHIP ARCTIC, BY COLLISION AT NOONDAY IN MID- OCEAN, -------- 612 Liberty for Kansas, ------ 616 Senator Butler; Portrait and Autograph, - 618 Senator Sumner; Portrait and Autograph, - 620 Assault on Senator Sumner, by P. S. Brooks, 622 Preston S. Brooks; Portrait, - - - - 623 Captain Herndon on the Wheel-house, - - 626 FOUNDERING OF THE STEAMER CENTRAL AMERICA, ------- 628 Victims of the Central America, - - - 630 Run on a Bank, ------ 635 EXCITEMENT IN BUSINESS CIRCLES DURING THE GREAT PANIC, ----- 637 Effects of the Hard Times, - - - - 639 Book of Requests for Prayers, - - - 644 Group of Eminent Revival Preachers, dur ing the National Century, - - - - 648 Dwight L. Moody; Portrait, - 652 Ira D. Sankey; Portrait, ----- 652 REVIVAL MEETING IN BROOKLYN, CON DUCTED BY MESSRS. MOODY AND SANKEY, 654 Morphy s World-Renowned Triumphs, - - 657 Paul Morphy; Portrait and Autograph, - 654 PAUL MORPHY, PLAYING EIGHT GAMES OF CHESS WITHOUT SEEING THE BOARDS, - 661 Escape from the Burning Steamer, - - 664 BURNING OF THE STEAMSHIP, AUSTRIA, WITH FIVE HUNDRED SOULS ON BOARD, - 666 Last View of the Unfortunate Steamer, - 669 State Capital of Illinois, - - - - 672 Debate between Lincoln and Douglas, - - 673 S. A. Douglas; Portrait and Autograph, - 677 Travelers Dependence in Former Times, - 679 Locomotive Rocket, 1829, - 680 Locomotive of To-day, 681 Original Steam Car, ------ 682 Modern Railway Car, ----- 683 Petroleum Wells, ------ 687 Petroleum Wells in Pennsylvania, - - - 689 Process of Boring for Petroleum, - 690 BURNING OF ONE OF THE GREAT OIL WELLS, 693 The Spot where Broderick Fell, - 696 D. C. Broderick; Portrait, - - - - 698 THE BODY OF SENATOR BRODERICK LYING IN STATE, SAN FRANCISCO, - 700 64 ILLUSTRATIONS. NO. SUBJECT. PAGE. NO. 305. Capture of John Brown, - 704 363. ... John Brown; Portrait and Autograph, - 706 364. 307. HARPER S FERRY AND THE ARSENAL 708 365. 366. , 712 oUn. 309. RUINS OF PEMBERTON MILLS, - 714 367. 310. " Lizzie" Amidst the Awful Ruins, 71! 368. 311. Japanese Box Containing the Treaty, - 721 369. 312. PRESIDENT BUCHANAN S RECEPTION OF 370. THE GRAND EMBASSY FROX JAPAN, 723 371. 313. Ambassadors Simini Boojsen Nokami ami 77 372. 373. ft 1 . ooraga i wajsi^ i , 729 374. Btt 315. ARRIVAL or THE STEAMSHIP GREAT EAST- 733 375. 816. Execution of General Walker, - 737 376. 317. General Walker; Portrait and Autograph, - 739 377. 318. LANDING OF GENERAL WALKER S FILLI- BUSTERINO EXPEDITION AT TRUXILLO, - 741 378. 319. The Prince of Wales at Washington s Tomb, 745 379. 320. Prince of Wales; Portrait and Autograph, - 747 380. 321. GRAND BALL GIVEN TO THE PRINCE OF WALES, IN BOSTON, - 7.- 1> >1. 322. Flag of Fort Sumter, After the Bombard 382. ment, -------- 763 383. 323. Major Anderson; Portrait and Autograph, - 755 3K4. 324. General Beauregard ; 1 ortrait and Auto 385. graph, -------- 757 386. 325. INTERIOR OF FORT SUMTER AFTER THE 387. BOMBARDMENT, ------ 759 388. 326. " Cruiser," Untamed, - - - - - 701 327 John S. Karey; 1 ortrait,- - 763 389. 328. Mr. Karey Exhibiting his Celebrated Method 390. of Taming Horses, - 766 391, 329. Monument on the Bull Run Battle-field, 7C8 392. 330. General McDowell; Portrait and Autograph, 771 331. General Johnston; Portrait and Autograph, - 773 303. 332. BATTLE OF BULL RUN, - - - - - 775 333. Interior of the Tower of the Monitor, - 778 394. 334. Commodore Franklin Buchanan ; Portrait ami Autograph, ------ 780 305. 335. NAVAL COMBAT BETWEEN THE MERRIMAC 396. AND MONITOR, ------ 783 336. Lieutenant Worden; Portrait and Autograph, 785 307. 337. Burying the Dead at Antietam, - 787 398. M. General McClelhin; 1 ortrait and Autograph, 789 339. General Burnside; Portrait, - - - - 790 399. 340. BATTLE OF ANTIETAM, - - - - - 791 400. 341. General Stonewall " Jackson; Portrait, 792 401. 342. General Hooker; Portrait and Autograph, - 793 343. Pen used in Signing the Proclamation, - 796 402. 344. Secretary Seward; Portrait, - 797 403. 345. Secretary Stanton; Portrait, - - - - 798 404. 346. President Lincoln; Portrait and Autograph, - 799 405. 347. PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, - 801 406. 348. Operations at Vicksburg, ----- 806 407. 349. General Pemberton; Portrait, ... 808 350. Siege of Vicksburg, by General Grant, - 809 408. 351. General MePhereon; Portrait, - - . 811 352. INTERVIEW BETWEEN GENERALS GRANT 409. BM J1 M 353. OA* - 1 *tiu. J.1 1 354. General Meade; Portrait and Autograph, CIO 817 411. 412. 355. BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG, - ... 819 413. 356. General Longstreet; Portrait and Autograph, 821 357. Soldiers Monument at Gettysburg, 823 414. 358. Rev. H. W. Beocher Defending the American 415. Union, in Exeter Hall, London, - 827 416. - Mr. Beeeher g Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., 831 417. 360. Statue of Beethoven, In Boston, ... 833 418. 361. The Great Organ in Boston Music Hall, 835 419. 3B2. Genius of Art and Music, .... 837 420. SUBJECT. PAGE. Merchant Vessel Burned by the Alabama, - 840 Captain Remmes; Portrait and Autograph, - 842 Captain Winslow; Portrait and Autograph, - 844 NAVAL CONTEST BETWEEN THE KEAR- 8ARGE AND ALABAMA, - 846 Farragut s Flag-Ship, " Hartford," - - 848 Admiral Farragut; Portrait, - - - - gso Admiral Porter; Portrait, - ... 8, r >0 Admiral Foote ; Portrait, ... - gso Admiral Dupont; Portrait, - ... 50 UNION NAVAL VICTORY IN MOBILE BAY, - 853 Head-quarters, Atlanta, Ga., - 857 General Sherman; Portrait and Autograph, - 859 SHERMAN S GREAT MARCH THROUGH THE HEART OF THE SOUTH, - 861 General Grant Stating Terms of Surrender, 868 RICHMOND, THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL, ENTERED BY THE UNION ARMY, - - ?69 Lincoln s Early Home, ----- 876 Ford s Theater at Washington, ... $77 THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LIN COLN, 879 House where Lincoln Died, - - - - 880 J. Wilkes Booth; Portrait and Autograph, - 881 Lincoln s Residence at Springfield, 111., - 882 Sergeant Boston Corbett; Portrait, - - 883 Burial Place of Lincoln, - - 885 Section of the Atlantic Cable, - - - 888 Cyrus W. Field; Portrait and Autograph, - 800 Arrival of the Great Eastern at Heart s Con tent, with the Atlantic Cable, - - - 804 Mountain Scene on the Pacific Railroad, - 896 COMPLETION OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD, - ooo P. S. Gilmore; Portrait and Autograph, - 006 National Peace Jubilee and Musical Festival at Boston, - - 909 Mr. Ogden s House Untouched in the Midst of the Great Fire, ------ 913 BURNING OF CHICAGO, OCTOBER 8 AND 0, 1871, 917 Trinity Church, Boston, Destroyed, - - 920 TERRIBLE FIRE IN THE BUSINESS HEART OF BOSTON, Nov. 9 AND 10, 1872, - - 023 Emblematic Head piece, ----- 927 Symbols of the Co-operative Labor Organiza tions, 929 SPIRIT OF THE GRANGE MOVEMENT, - - 931 The Great Cathedral, N. Y., - - - - 934 Archbishop McCloskey the First American Cardinal, -------935 Consecrational of the Cardinal, - 937 Electric Lamp, ----- - 940 Electric Light at Sea, ----- 942 Thos. A. Edison; Autograph, - - - - 943 Phonograph, ----- 944 House in which Jefferson Wrote the Declara tion of Independence, ----- 948 OPENING OF THE CENTENNIAL EXHIBITION IN PHILADELPHIA, ----- 950 The Corliss Engine, - - 961 EXHIBITION BUILDINGS IN PHILADELPHIA, 953 INDEPENDENCE HALL, JULY 4, 1876, - - 954 UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK, JULY 4, 1876, 956 READING THE ORIGINAL DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, JULY 4, 1876, - - - 958 Entrance of the N. Y. 7th Regiment, - 960 State Avenue, Nat l Centennial Exhibition, - 961 Woman s Pavilion, Nat l Centenn l Exhibit n, 962 The Tunisian Tent, Nat l Centenn l Exhibit n, 963 ALL HAIL TO THE HEREAFTER !- - - 965 Flag of the German Empire, . . - 906 Emperor William; Portrait and Autograph, - 966 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. His 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, >y solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bon- ires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forth, forevermore." JOHN ADAMS. 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 to 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 RINGING OF THE BELL, JULY 4, 1776. CqiUll. Refusing to pay the tribute of taxation arbitrarily imposed upon them at the point of the bayonet by the British crown, G6 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S7G. 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 roble 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. W r ell and truly did the mighty patriot Adams characterize this event as the mos-t 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 67 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 auxious 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 was 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- HALL 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 arms, 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 68 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. evening, at the head of each brigade of the army. " The general hopes," said he in his orders, "tliut 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, from 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 Fort 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 69 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 world 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 mnde 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 of 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, iu 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, FREE 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 tilings, 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 enemj . 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 featherings" innumerable, by the more violent among the angry pop ulace. To prevent these outrages, con gress gave the supervision of tories to committees of inspection. Many of these obnoxious families finally left the country, and in course of time the to ry element was eradicated or completely silenced. Scarcely less interesting and important is the character of the reception which this remarkable document 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 70 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. oppressed 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 Thueydi- 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 of 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. In behold ing them, shall the friend of freedom feel his heart palpitate with joy feel his eyes float in delicious tears. Under the bust of one of them has been written, lie 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, be 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 piessed upon congress the propriety of ap pointing commissioners for negotiating peace with Great Britain. In accordance GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 71 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 March ; 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 he 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. CAPITULATION OF GENERAL BTJRGOYNR 1777. First Royal Army Ever Surrendered to Americans. Utter Failure of England s Grand Scheme to "Subdue the Rebellious Colonies." European Sympathy for the Struggling Infant Nation. Alliance Between France and the United States. Brilliant and Kffective Combination of French and Ameri can Forces Gloomy Prospect for America in 1777. Britain s Honor Intrusted to Burgoyne. His Magnificent Army. Rebels to be Sternly Dealt With. Sanguine Expectations of Success. Savages Len piied with the Invaders. Their Murder of Miss McCrea. Burgoyne s Triumphant 1 rogress. Fall of Ticonderoga. American Victories at Bennington, Etc Gates s Army in Fine Spirits General Fraser Shot Dead The "King s Regulars" Desperate General Clinton Fails to Aid Them All Hope Abandoned Burgoyne Lays Down his Arms His Meeting with Gates. Trophies of This Victor} How Washington Got the News. Unbounded Joy of Americans. Crushing Blow to British Pride. Effect upon Other Nations. "I hire but to eive ftrctrh to the Inrtirm fircei under my direction and they amount to thousands to overtake the hardened enemies of Or*M Britain." bUBOOTJIB l I UUCLAMATIU.N. GATES S N the panels of that vast and superb rotunda which forms the center of the federal capitol at Washington, are four magnificent paintings by John Trumbull, which illustrate the h r.-t four great events in the history of the United States, namely, the Declaration of American In dependence, the Surrender of Burgoyne, the Surrender of Cornwallis, and the Res ignation of Washington as commander- in-chief of the army. The design of this volume being to portray the scenes and incidents relating to each of those leading occurrences, of perpetual interest, in the rev olutionary period, as well as those that illustrate the remaining years which constitute the nation s first century, the account which here follows will be descriptive of that triumphant achievement of revolutionary valor, the reduction of Burgoyne and his forces in 1777 ; it being the first royal army that ever capitulated to the Americans. It was also a fitting close to a year which had been marked by the arrival of Lafa} r ette, favor from the French government, the battles of Brandywine, Germantown, and Ben nington, the latter won by General Stark, and the occupation of Philadelphia by Gen eral Howe. The campaign of 1777 opened under gloomy auspices, and promised to the American cause little else than disasters. The army of Washington was totally inadequate in numbers, discipline, and equipment, to cope with the enemy, with any prospect of suc cess. The genius of liberty was inclosed between two fires, and once more a fatal crisis seemed approaching ; for, not only was General Howe preparing to embark with twenty GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 73 thousand veteran troops for the Delaware, whence he was to move on Philadelphia, but Burgoyne was approaching with about half that number, backed by hordes of sav ages from the north. Burgoyne had long been one of the pet generals in the British arm} , and to him was specially intrusted the prestige of British arms and honor in the conflict with America. He was the inheritor of great wealth, through his father-in-law, the Earl of Derby ; he served in Portugal with much credit, as brigadier- general, in 1762 ; for some time he was a conspicuous member of parliament ; and in 1775 he was appointed to a command in America, " to subdue the rebellious colo nies." He witnessed the battle of Bunker Hill. In 1776 he returned to England, and had a long conference with George III. on colonial affairs. In 1777 he was appointed to lead the army which was to penetrate from Canada into the United States and crusli to atoms the revolution ary forces ; with what success, the fol lowing narrative will show : Having arrived in Quebec with his com mission in May, 1777, this ambitious gen eral, inspired by the distinguished confi dence placed in his genius and ability by the English ministry, immediately dis played great activity in making those preparations which were necessary to the success of an enterprise which was to de cide the fate of America. The regular force placed at his disposal, consisting of British and German troops, amounted to upwards of seven thousand men, exclusive of a corps of artillery numbering about five hundred. To these was added a de tachment of seven hundred rangers, under Colonel St. Leger, destined to make an incursion into the country of the Mohawks, and to seize Fort Stamvix. According to the plan of operations decided upon by Burgoyne, his principal army was to be joined by two thousand Canadians, in cluding hatchet-men, and other workmen whose services were necessary to render the route practicable. A sufficient number of seamen had likewise been assembled, for manning the transports. Besides the Canadians that were to be immediately attached to the army, many others were called upon to scour the woods in the frontiers, and to occupy the intermediate parts between the army which advanced towards the Hudson and that which re mained for the protection of Canada; the latter amounted, including the highland emigrants, to upwards of three thousand men. They were furnished by the san guine ministry with an unusual variety and abundance of provisions, military stores, and other conveniences, amongst which was included a large quantity of uniforms, destined for the loyalists, who, it was not doubted, would after victory flock from all quarters to the roj al camp. A great number of cruel and intractable savages were also gathered together to swell the force and prowess of this invad ing host. Burgoyne had taken pains to be seconded by many brave and able offi cers, among whom was Major-General Phillips, the brigadier-generals Eraser, Powel, Hamilton, and Specht, with the Brunswick major-general, Baron Riedesel. The whole army shared enthusiasticall} in the ardor and hopes of its chiefs, and not a doubt was entertained of an ap proaching triumph, and the thorough con quest and humiliation of America. The most base feature in Burgoyne s plan of the campaign was his employment of hordes of wild and inhuman savages, whose only weapons were the tomahawk and scalping- knife. But bitterly did he rue his course in this respect, for the deeds enacted by those hell-hounds of cruelty served, more than any thing else, to exasperate the American patriots, and to incite them to determined resistance and triumph. The murder of that lovely young woman, Miss McCrea, at Fort Edward, and the bloody massacre in the beautiful valley of Wyom ing, were the legitimate fruits of such a policy as that of Burgoyne. The first movement of Burgoyne was to encamp near the little river Roquet, on the western bank of Lake Champlain, a short distance north of Crown Point. Here he made addresses to the Indians to OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. stimulate their ardor but repress their ferocious propensities, and sent proclama tions into the country to intimidate the people. He next made a short stop at Crown Point, and then proceeded to invest Ticonderoga. The right wing took the western bank of the lake, the left advanced upon the eastern, and the center was em barked upon the lake itself. Sf Unfortunately, the American army, des tined to oppose the progress of the royal troops and to defend Ticonderoga, was altogether insufficient. General Schuyler, who commanded the American troops in this quarter, had been disappointed in procuring re-enforcements, and his men numbered only ubout four thousand. Ti conderoga itself was very strongly fortified on every side, and its defense was in trusted to General St. Clair, with a garri son of three thousand men, one-third of these being raw militia, and all of them poorly equipped. Although General St. Clair put forth every exertion to retard the operations of the advancing enemy, yet in a few days they succeeded in getting pos session of Mount Hope and Mount De fiance, two very important positions, one of which commanded the American lines to a dangerous degree, and the other over looked the entire fort. Ticonderoga be ing thus easily hemmed in on every side, a council of officers concluded to evacuate the fort. They accordingly withdrew on the night of the fifth of July. All was done in good order and profound silence ; and the stores, artillery and provisions, were put on board two hundred bateaux and five armed galleys. They would prob ably have escaped unperceived by the British, had not a house caught fire on Mount Independence, which betrayed by its light all that had taken place. The Americans were immediately pursued, and by the next afternoon their boats were overtaken and attacked at Skenesborough Falls. Two of the American galleys sur rendered, and three were blown up ; and, after setting fire to their works, mills, and bateaux, that portion of the army escaped up Wood Creek to Fort Anne. The van guard of the corps that set out by land, under St. Clair, had arrived at Castleton ; the rear had rested at Hubbardston, when it was overtaken and attacked by General Fraser, on the morning of the seventh. An obstinate battle ensued, which at length, after Riedesel came up, resulted in the dispersion of the Americans, who left many of their soldiers, together with their brave commander, Colonel Francis, dead on the field. St. Clair, after hearing this news, struck into the woods in an eastern direction, hoping thereby to mislead Bur- goyne as to the course and position of the American forces. The English generals next resolved to drive the Americans from Fort Anne. After a sanguinary combat they finally succeeded in this, by bringing suddenly GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 75 to their aid their savage allies. The Americans set the fort on fire, and re tired to Fort Edward, where General Sehuyler had posted himself. On the twelfth, St. Clair also arrived there with the remains of the garrison of Ticonder- oga. This, it was expected, would be the next point of attack. But Burgoyne was detained at Skenesborough, through want of provisions and stores. General Schuy ler took advantage of this delay, and neg lected no means to procure recruits and to impede the progress of the enemy. After succeeding in obtaining posses sion of Fort George, the British army with much difficulty attained the banks of the Hudson, near Fort Edward. The Ameri cans moved down to Stillwater. Bur- go} T ne soon experienced a great depriva tion of provisions. While Colonel St. Leger was investing Fort Stanwix, on the Mohawk, he detached five hundred soldiers and savages to procure cattle at Bennington. To favor this expedition he moved his army down to the bank opposite Saratoga; but a company of provincials having assembled from different quarters at Bennington, under the command of Colonel Stark, the latter met the enemy on the border of the town, and after an obstinate encounter bravely repulsed them. The British, however, were again strength ened by a fresh detachment, and once more the Americans were attacked; but victory declared for the latter, the English losing seven hundred men and all their baggage. But at this time, General Herkimer, who marched to the relief of Colonel Gan- sevoort at Fort Stanwix, was ambushed by the savages, who dispersed his corps with all that frightful carnage characteristic of Indian warfare. In a short time, how ever, the Indians became disaffected, and the British were obliged to raise the siege and retreat. These successes of the Americans at Stanwix and Bennington, inspired them with new confidence. The harvests were now ended, and the country people took arms in multitudes, and hastened to the camp elated with the expectation of van quishing the vaunted regulars of the king. General Gates, an officer of uo inconsiderable renown, was appointed to the command of the army, which also gave a new spur to their alacrity ; they were ex cited, too, by the inhuman cruelties of the savages under St. Leger and Burgoyne, and the awful butchery of the young and beautiful Miss McCrea, murdered in cold blood at Fort Edward by the British-paid Indians, which was still fresh in their minds, exasperated them to the extreme. The savages now deserted Burgoyne, and the Canadians were frightened to their homes, by the sinister aspect of affairs. General Lincoln, with a strong and de termined body of New Hampshire and Connecticiit militia, assisted by Colonels Brown and Johnston, proceeded with great secrecy and celerity to repossess Forts Ed ward, Anne, and George, Mount Hope, and Mount Defiance. Complete success crowned this admirably conducted move ment. General Burgoyne having amassed about thirty days provisions, resolved to pass the Hudson, engage the American army, and penetrate to Albany. Towards the mid dle of September, he crossed the river, and encamped on the heights and plains of Saratoga, Gates being then near Stillwa ter. Burgoyne had now to rely, almost entirely, on his German and British regu lar troops, and a battle was soon expected. This was reserved for the nineteenth of September, and the question was to be de cided, whether the Americans could resist the English upon equal ground, in fair and regular battle. Some small woods only separating the two watchful and eager armies, they were early on the nineteenth formed in the order of battle. The right wing of the British army rested upon the high grounds, and the left wing and artillery, under Phil lips and Riedesel, kept along the road and meadows by the river side. Gates took the right of the American army, and gave the left to Arnold. Smart skirmishes im mediately ensued between the foremost marksmen of either party, and the two 70 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. forces soon met. General Fraser repulsed the Americans. Finding the right Hank of the enemy s right wing so well defended, they left a sufficient guard to defend this passage, made a rapid movement to their right, and vigorously assailed the left flank of the same wing. Arnold exhibited upon this occasion all the impetuosity of his courage, and emboldened his men both by voice and example. The action became extremely warm ; and the enemy fearing that Arnold, by cutting their line, would penetrate between their wings as was manifestly his intention, hastened to re- enforce the points attacked. General Fraser came up with the twenty-fourth regiment, some light infantry, and Brey- man s riflemen ; he would have drawn more troops from the right flank, but the heights, on which it was posted, were of too great importance to be totally evacu ated. Meanwhile, such was the valor and impetuosity of the Americans, that the English began to fall into confusion, and would have been utterly routed, but for the arrival of General Phillips with fresh men and a part of the artillery; upon hearing the firing, lie had rapidly made his way through a very difficult wood to the scene of danger. He restored the action at the very moment it was about to be decided in favor of the Americans; but the latter, nothing daunted, renewed their attacks with such persevering energy, that night only parted the combatants. Benedict Arnold and Daniel Morgan were the ruling spirits that directed the battle on the part of the Americans, and the gallant General Fraser was the direct ing soul of the British in action. His skill and courage were everywhere conspicu ous. He was mounted upon a splendid iron-gray gelding; and, dressed in the full uniform of a field officer, lie was a promi nent object in the eyes of the Americans. It was evident that the fate of the battle rested upon him, and this the keen eye and sure judgment of Morgan perceived. In an instant his purpose was conceived, and, calling a file of his best men around him, he said, as he pointed toward the British right, "That gallant officer is Gen eral Fraser. I admire and honor him, but it is necessary he should die ; victory for the enemy depends upon him. Take your stations in that clump of bushes, and do your duty." Within five minutes Fraser fell, mortally wounded, and was carried to the camp by two grenadiers. Just previ ous to being hit by the fatal bullet, the crupper of his horse was cut by a rifle ball, and immediately afterward another passed through the horse s mane, a little back of his ears. The aid of Fraser noticed this, and said, " It is evident that you are marked out for particular aim; would it not be prudent for you to retire from this place?" Fraser replied, "My duty for bids me to fly from danger," and the next moment he fell. This act is said to have been originally suggested by Arnold. After this battle, Burgoyne waited nearly a month to hear from General Clinton. At length he received intelli gence, but it was of such a nature as only to increase his disappointments and ren der his situation more hopeless. Driven to extremity, he resolved to make another effort to force a passage to Albany by his enemy s left. In this he utterly failed, and his troops were driven back to their intrcnchmcnts, being pursued with eager ness and great loss, even to their camp. The Americans had now acquired an opening on the right and rear of the British army, whose situation was there fore rendered very perilous. Burgoyne now operated a change of ground. But General Gates had taken the precaution to station strong divisions on almost every side, to prevent the enemy s escape. Bur goyne then retired to Saratoga, but so miserable was the condition of his army, that it occupied nearly two days to effect this small movement of six miles, and even left his hospital in the hands of the Ameri cans. Hoping to cross the river at Sara toga, and retreat to the lakes to save his army, he soon found that Fort Edward, on the opposite bank, was too strongly man ned to admit of his attempting any such purpose; thereupon he turned his atten- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 77 tion to Fort George, in hopes of crossing there. lie was not long in ascertaining, however, that there, too, the Americans were strongly intrenched. General Gates, with the main body of the American army, thirsting for battle, was hard upon Burgoyne s rear. In this state of affairs it was, that the proud spirited Briton finally relinquished all expectation of saving himself by his own nature of the ground, could not be at tacked; such was the extremity that pre sented itself. But Burgoyne s troops, even while the rifle and grape shot fell thickly around them in this forlorn state, retained their ordinary constancy, and, while sink ing under war s hard necessity, betrayed no want of temper, or of fortitude. Clinton s effort to relieve Burgoyne was unsuccessful. He pushed up the Hudson fe> CAPITULATION OF BUBGOYNK S ARMY. efforts. His only refuge from despair was the faint possibility of co-operation from the parts down the river; and he looked for the aid of Clinton with the most in tense desire. His army was in a pitiable condition. Worn out, abandoned, half their number slaughtered, and amongst them the most distinguished officers; and invested closely by a much greater force, who refused to fight from a knowledge of their helpless condition, and who, from the river, captured Forts Montgomery and Clinton, after a brave resistance by the American garrison, and then, with wan ton cruelty, Sir Henry set fire to houses and buildings of every description, de stroying, by conflagration, the church and every other building in the beautiful town of Esopus. After the capture of these two forts, Clinton dispatched a messenger by the name of Daniel Taylor, to Burgoyne, with the cheering intelligence. Fortu- 78 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. nately, he was taken on the way as a spy. Finding himself in danger, he was seen to turn aside and take something from his pocket and swallow it. The American commander forthwith ordered a severe dose of emetic tartar to be administered ; this produced the effect the prisoner dis charging a small silver hullet, which, on being unscrewed, was found to inclose a dispatch to Burgoyne. "Out of thine own mouth thou shalt be condemned." The spy was tried, convicted, and executed. Perceiving, now, that all the passes in his rear were strongly guarded, and that further retreat or resistance was useless, Burgo3 r ne called a council on the fifteenth of October. While the council was qui etly deliberating, an eighteen-pound shot crossed the table, and they resolved unani mously to offer terms to General Gates. These proposals finally resulted in the ca pitulation of Burgoyne s whole army. The news of the capture in the Highlands is said to have arrived at this juncture, which led General Burgoyne to temporize, in ex pectation of possible relief from Sir Henry Clinton. Gates, seeing the critical mo ment, drew up his army for immediate on set, and sent in a flag, demanding a reply in ten minutes. The exigency was immi nent, and Burgoyne felt it. With a trem bling hand and pallid countenance the proud warrior signed the treaty. The surrender was duly carried into effect on the seventeenth of October. Burgoyne having proposed to Wilkinson, the Ameri can adjutant-general, a desire to be intro duced to General Gates, they crossed the Fishkill, and proceeded to head-quarters on horseback, General Burgoyne in front, with his adjutant-general and two aids- de-camp behind him ; then followed Major- General Phillips, the Baron Riedesel, and the other general officers and their suites, according to rank. General Gates, ad vised of Burgoyne s approach, met him at the head of the American camp, Bur goyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates in a plain blue frock. When they ap proached nearly within sword s length, they reined up and halted. Adjutant- General Wilkinson then formally an nounced the names of the gentlemen, whereupon General Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, said: " The fortune of war, General Gates, has made me your prisoner." " I shall always be ready to bear testi mony" promptly replied the conqueror, with a courtly salute, " that it has not been through any fault of your excellency." Major-General Phillips then advanced, and he and General Gates saluted and shook hands, with the familiarity of old acquaintances. The Baron Riedesel and other officers were introduced in their turn. General Gates, with great delicacy, consented to an arrangement by which the American soldiery were not to be present when the British army underwent the shame and humiliation of piling their arms. The trophies which were gained by this great victory, were five thousand seven hundred and ninety-one prisoners, a train of brass artillery immensely valuable, con sisting of forty-two pieces of brass can non, besides seven thousand muskets, with seventy-two thousand cartridges, and an ample supply of shot, shells, and clothing for seven thousand men, with a large num ber of tents and other military stores. The American army numbered about three times that of the enemy. The American army engaged in this victorious enterprise, contained many fine officers. Schuyler was a man of great good sense and experience, having been an officer in the war of 1755 to 1763. General Morgan, a bold and intrepid sol dier, was there, rendering most conspicu ous service. Arnold s heroism never shone more brightly than in the various ordeals through which he passed during this cam paign. Lincoln, too, showed himself to be valiant and discreet even in the most try ing exigencies. Brooks s share in this event is applauded by every historian of the war, as is likewise the honorable career of Dearborn and Hull. The other Ameri can generals, who may be named in this campaign, are Poor, Learned, Ten Broeck, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 79 Fellows, Patterson, Nixon, and Glover. Of General Gates, the central figure in this great act, it may be remarked, that, though unquestionably a man of talents, he was so far deficient in judgment as to be influenced by the arts and representa tions of those who, under the lead of Gen eral Conway, whose offensive conduct in this matter finally led to a duel between him and General Cadwalader were en gaged in a scheme to wrest the supreme command of the revolutionary army from Washington and have it conferred upon Gates. At this very time, the intrigue of the Conway faction was at its height, and the officers who were implicated in it seized upon the occasion to strike a deci sive blow. The disastrous loss of the battle just fought at Germantown they charged to Washington s delaying his division at the Chew House. So artful and persever ing were they in these representations of Washington s incompetency, and so bril liant had Gates s military repute become by the magnificent victory with which he had relieved the public despondency, that the idea began to prevail in the minds of many, that the days of Washington s as cendency were numbered and finished. Gates, in his invidious rivalry of Wash ington, would not deign to communicate the news of his victory to the latter, but sent a courier direct to congress instead. It was, curiously enough, at the precise period when Washington s star had be come dimmed by military reverses, that the rumor was found circulating through his camp, of Burgoyne s having been con quered and his whole army taken prison ers by General Gates. The excitement became intense, and all were on the watch for news from the north. Several days, however, passed away, and no further in telligence was received. Washington, of course, had heard the rumor, and doubtless appreciated the effect it would have, if true, upon public opinion, as between the merits of himself and Gates. Now, it so happened that Washington s head-quarters were on the road leading from Germantown to York, where congress was then in session. On the forenoon of Saturday, October eighteenth, Colonel Pickering, adjutant-general of the army, was there transacting business with Wash ington. They were in a room of the sec ond story, at the corner of the house, looking up the road that led from the north. While sitting there, a horseman was seen approaching, Avhose appearance indicated that he had traveled long and from far. His aspect, his saddle-bags, and the manner of his movement, indi cated that he was an express-rider. The attention of both Washington and Picker ing was at once arrested. They took it for granted that he must be bearing dis patches from the northern army to con gress, and were sure that he could inform them whether the report of Burgoyne s surrender was well founded. As he ap proached nearer, Pickering recognized him as an officer of the northern army. At Washington s request, he ran down to the door, stopped him, and conducted him up to the general s room with his saddle-bags. Washington instantly opened them, tore the envelope of a package, spread out an announcement of the victory at Saratoga and Burgoyne s surrender to General Gates, and attempted to read it aloud. As he read, the color gradually settled away from his countenance, his hand trembled, his lips quivered, his utterance failed him he dropped the paper, clasped his hands, raised them upward, and, thus transfixed, was for several moments lost in a rapture of adoring gratitude. "While I gazed," said Colonel Pickering, "upon this sublime exhibition of sensibility, I saw conclusive proof that, in comparison with the good of his country, self was ab solutely nothing the man disappeared from my view, and the very image and personification of the patriot stood before me." Throughout America, the joy which this victory produced, was unbounded. Indeed, the contest between England and the United States was believed to be substan tially decided. Though the war might be kept up longer, no further doubt was en- 80 OUR FIRST CENTUBY. 1776-1876. tertained of the success with which the revolutionists efforts would be ultimately crowned. Nor was it amongst the small est advantages expected from it, that it would probably decide the uncertain and balancing politics of foreign courts, anx ious to separate America from Britain, but apprehensive of the hazards to be encount ered by taking open part in the \var. The thanks of congress were voted to General Gates and his army; and a medal of gold, in commemoration of this great event, was ordered to be struck, to be presented to him by the president of congress, in the name of the United States. The effect produced by this event on the other side of the Atlantic, and in particu lar on the British cabinet and nation, was prodigious. It seemed to remove all the delusive hopes of easy conquest with \\hich the English had so long flattered them selves, and suddenly to display in open view the mass of resistance which had got to be encountered. The previous disasters of the American arms had induced a be lief in Europe, even among the friends of the colonists, that the cause of independ ence could not succeed. The rapid ad vance of Burgoyne into the interior, the fall of the important fortress of Ticonder- oga, and the boastful announcements of victory continually made by the British and circulated all over Europe, had pro duced a general impression that the colo nists were virtually subdued. In the midst of all this, came the unexpected and astounding intelligence that Bur goyne and all his forces had laid down their arms in submission to an American general. On the evening of the day on which the ministry received their private dispatches containing the news, a rumor of their con tents had got into the house of commons, just as the members had assembled. One of the members arose, and with the most imperative earnestness of manner ad dressed the treasury benches, demanding what were the accounts from America Being compelled to disclose the mortifving fact, the chancellor of the exchequer arose, and, in a weak and faint voice, informed the house it was too true that General Bur goyne and his army were prisoners of war. At this announcement, a storm of indig nation, sarcasm, reproach and invective, was poured upon the king s ministers by the opposition leaders, who overwhelmed them with the bitterest declamation on their imbecility, rashness, and obstinacy. In the house of lords, the Earl of Chatham the foremost man of the realm moved to amend the address in answer to the speech from the throne, by introducing a clause recommending to his majesty an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the commencement of a treaty of conciliation. He vehemently condemned the employ ment of merciless savages to wage a "bar barous war against our brethren," and was desirous of peace on any terms short of the dismemberment of the empire. Such, however, was the infatuation of the court and ministry, that their hostile plans were still persevered in, the government de- claring that "if ten thousand men cannot conquer America, fifty thousand shall!" And with the help of strong majorities in parliament, more supplies were raised, new troops levied, and the war carried on. The most important among the imme diate consequences of Burgoyne s surren der, was the treaty of alliance between America and France. The communica tion of this important intelligence from the American commissioners in France, diffused extreme joy throughout the Unit ed States, being received by the people as the harbinger of their independence ; and in this they were not disappointed, for men, arms, and money were liberally supplied by their generous ally, until an acknowl edgment of that independence was wrung from King George. Such, then, was the part played by that army which had ex cited such high expectations in Britain, and which, at first, spread alarm and dis may throughout the United States. Poor Burgoyne, returning home on parole, was ill received. The king, petulant and mor tified, refused to see him ; but he never had a more faithful servitor. III. FIRST AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORY. 1779. John Paul Jones, Commanding the Bon Homme Richard, Fights and Captures King George s Power 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 to 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 buttle in the annals of naval warfare." J. FENIMORE COOPER. UCH an exploit as that 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 A victory came, too, at one of the darkest hours in the revolutionary cain- <; 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 storm 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, and 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 Arbi gland 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. \Vhitehaven, who carried on a considerable trade with 6 82 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. the American colonies. His first voyage was made before be 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 me!" 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 afterward 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 Homuie 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 the 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 83 though not 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 eigh teen-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 lower gun deck, twenty 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 an 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 over 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 ? " "I haven t begun to fight yet ! " thundered forth the brave Jones, in reply. A novelty in naval combats was 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 running 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 than encourage any reasonable hope of success in a combat under such circumstances. 84 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 85 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 fought 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 a brigantine 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 86 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187(5. I manned and armed one of the pilot boats to send in pursuit of the brigantine, which now appeared to be the vessel that I had forced ashore. Soon after this, a fleet of forty -one sail appeared off Flamborough 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 sible 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 Homme 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 Hornme 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 cannon 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 moan 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 87 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. 88 OUK FlltST CESTUK1 . 1770-1876. IV. 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 ot tl Thicli philosophy is at a loss to explain." UERSCIIEL. a one ot those wonderful phenomena of nature which will alwayi be read of with intereit, but DIFFICULTY OF TRAVELING. I/MOST, 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 and 90 OUR FIKST CENTURY. 1770-1876. 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 red 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 91 the darkness came on, it was observable tliat the weight or gravity of it was grad ually decreasing, the greater part of the day. According to the observations made at Cambridge, Mass., the 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 twent3 r -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 mercur}^ 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, yellow 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 was 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 the 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 the 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 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. many miles along the shore, the width of the deposit beiug 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 sullied, 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 slumer, 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 so 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 the 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, held by a person passing along the street, occa sioned a reflection of a faint red or coppcr- 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, Avith 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 93 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 as 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 in 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 be clearly seen at the distance of twenty miles, though the intermediate space was so shaded that it was impossi ble to distinguish woodland from pasture. At half-past 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 AFTER THE DARK 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- 94 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-187G. meat 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 these 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 be 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 a 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 escapo notice, even amidst the unusual atmospheric gloom that accompanied it. The dark ness of the following evening was proba bly as deep 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 white 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, brought back by tha shift ing of the winds, to afford the most ob scure prospect even of the best reflecting bodies. The denseness 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 speciiic 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, such 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, towards the surface of the earth. According to one of the observations cited, the vapors were noticed to ascend, 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 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, reflect, 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 phere was, from some peculiar cause (per haps great fires in di;-tant woods) charged, in a high degree, with vapors, and that these vapors were of different densities and occupied different heights, the de duction is, that by this means the rays of light fulling 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 colors of objects would appear to be af fected by the mixture or prevalence 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 96 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. which consist of different qualities, such as aqueous, sulphurous, bituminous, salinous, etc. ; hence 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, snowwater, 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 be 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, and 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 fourth of that month. There was also a remarkable darkness at Detroit and vicin ity, October 19, 1762, being almost total for the greater part of the day. It was dark at day-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. V. 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 Wife. Quick Pursuit of the Traitor. He Readies a British Man-of- War. Washington s Exclamation at the News His Call on Mrs. Ar nold Andre s Trial and Conviction. Arnold s Reward for His Crime. His Unlamented Death. "Providence, which has so often nnd o remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested 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." WASHING ION. ARK 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, to the end of time, transfix every patriotic mind, as that PRICE OF ARNOLD S TREASON. o f t ne blackest among modern criminals. The treacher ous deed was 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 Revolution 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 98 OUB FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, hut 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, lie 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, tinder 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 Crompoml. The next morning ho 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 where 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 Van 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 99 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 anyplace that might be fixed upon. Williams asked, ironically, whether he 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 York to get it. CAPTURE OF ANDRE. Paulding, a stout-hearted youngster ex- chiimed : " 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 defenses 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 twentj -eighth of September, Andre, in charge of Miijor Tallmarlge, was conveyed in a barge to King s Ft-rry. Being both young, of equal rank, 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 active 100 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 a.^kod permission of Colonel Jameson, as soon as he was taken to the latter s custodj-, 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, escnped. 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 of the country would have been in his hands, and lie 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 lie 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 101 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. Repauing 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 enemv before WEST POINT IX 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 aid?, 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 hast} T breakfast, and being informed that 102 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 coining 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 ho 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 lias 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 Litter, stunned and bewildered, ordered Hamilton to mount a horse and ride us 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 of demeanor, except that he was more than GENERAL ARNOLD S HEAD-QUARTERS. 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 Lamb, in tlie 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 liis 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 ppy, Sir Henry Clinton, the British general, put forth every effoit 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 103 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 universally beloved, and possessed 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 siler.tly 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 ; 30,000, most prob ably. VI. CORNWALLIS SURRENDERS HIS SPLENDID ARMY TO GENERAL WASHINGTON. 1781. Final 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 I It u all over It i all over 1" LOUD NOKTII, FBIME MINISTEU or ENOLAHD, ox HEAIUMJ 07 COKNWALLIS S SI:KUKM>KK. 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 WHERE CORVWALLIS SURRENDERED. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 105 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 south, 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. In 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 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, the 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 readied the shipping in the harbor, and set the Charon frigate of 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, and to keep alive the 100 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. spirit of emulation which animated the co operating armies, the attack of one was assigned to the American troops, and that of the other to the French. Lafayette commanded the American detachment, and the Baron de Viominet 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 on whatever horses he could seize, make a rapid march northward and join Sir Henry Clinton ! By this COK.NWALLiS S .-I KKI.MH.K. 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 and 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 107 In the mortification and anguish of his soul, Cornwallis shed tears, and expressed his preference for deatli 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 bs 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 \vho 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 Yorktown, 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 i,he 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 well done ! " Motioning to his faithful servant, who was quickly in his presence, he said, "William, bring me my horse," mounting Avhich, 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 108 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1T76-1S7G. 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 the country, on the surrender of Cornwallis, was un bounded. "Cornwallis is taken!" was the message which sped itself with the wings of the wind to every city, town and village, and was shouted by every mouth. But the mortification of Cornwallis was 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 news? "As he would have received a ball in his breast ; for he opened his arms, ex claiming wildly as he paced up and down 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 self-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 there when 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-coach, and drove to Lord Stormount s residence in Portland Place. Having imparted the disastrous information to him, they determined, after a short consultation, to lay the intelligence themselves in person before Lord North, with what result has already been stated on the authority of a writer in Black\vood 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 da} r s ; 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 109 Lord George, as secretary for the American department, sent off a dispatch to the king, then at Kew, acquainting him with Cornwallis 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, }"et 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 does, 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." All the world agree that no expedition was ever better planned or better executed. For the 110 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. " 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. The 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 an 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 our GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. Ill 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 Cormvallis 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." VII. 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 tho Election of a Military Leader. America s Destiny in His Hands Appointment of George Wash ington The Army at Cambridge, Mass He Immediate!} 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 flnlnhed the work i<al|rned me, I retire from the theater of ctlon, and, bidding an affectionate farewell to thl amuM body under whoe order* 1 have TO long acted, I here offer my commiuion, and take my leave of all the employ menu of public life." WAS ins o- loy a KKriUKME.iT A 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, but 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 Return 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 SWORD, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 113 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, enjoA ed 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 8 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 other 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, 114 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. To George Washington, Esquire : We, reposing special trust and coi.n- dence in your patriotism, conduct, and fidelity, do by these presents constitute and appoint you to be GENERAL and COM- MAXDER-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 alt 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,) and pv > 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 Majors-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 his country were established. The record of his services is the history of the whole war. Joining the army in July, 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 York town, 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, GEE AT AND MEMOBABLE EVENTS. 115 the 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 one 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 WASHINGTON S 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 officers around Newburgh who were associated in RESIGNATION. 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 116 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. myself, you 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, difficult}-, 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 3*011. I most de voutly wish that }-our 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 dea-r general, farewell! " Wash ington seized his hand most heartily, when, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 117 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 lie 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 retary, if necessary, and the president is 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 118 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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." VIII. 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 Pealing. 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. I must avow to your majesty, I have no attachment but to my own country." Jouw ADAMS TO KINO UEOROE. "An honest man will have no other."--TnK KINO S INSTANT REI-LV. 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, tllC confiscation of ASI1TV BETWEEN ENGLAND AND AMERICA. 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 120 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187G. appointing, after the manner 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 itsurjH-r. 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 121 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 122 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, as 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- KIKST MINISTER TO ENGLAND. RECEPTION 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 123 then I addressed mj-self to his majesty in the following words : "SruE: 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 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 "SiK: 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 pre vail, and a disposition to give this country the preference, that moment I shall say, let the circumstances of language, religion, and blood, have their natural, full effect." The king then asked me whether I came last from France; upon my answering in the affirmative, he put on an air of familiarity, and, smiling, or rather laughing, said " There is an opinion among some people that you are not the most attached of all your countrymen to the manners of France." " That opinion, sir, is not mistaken ; / must avow to your majesty, I have no at tachment but to my own country" The king replied as quick as lightning " An honest man will have no other" The king then said a word or two to the OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. secretary of state, which, being between 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-chamberlain, having first been attended to his lordship And introduced to him by the master of the ceremonies. The queen was accompa nied by her ladies-in-waiting, and Mr. Adams made his compliments to her maj esty 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 acknowledged and admired in America, as well as in all the nations of Europe, as an example to prin cesses 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 prosperity and happiness. It will, in future ages, be the glory of these kingdoms to have peo pled 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 prosperity of na tions and the happiness of the human race. After venturing upon such high insinu ations to your majesty, it seems to be de scending 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 to 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 : u 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 un- happy 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 3 oung 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 this marked fault may be traced in its relations with foreign nations, but it never showed itself in more striking colors than during the first half century after the in dependence of the United States. The effects of the mistake then committed have been perceptible ever since. IX. FIRST ORGANIZED REBELLION IN THE UNITED STATES. 1786. Daniel Shays, at the Head of an Armed and Desperate Force, Boldly Defies the State and Federal* Laws in Massachusetts " Taxation and Tyranny" the Alleged Grievances Alarming Disaffection. Throughout all New England. Bad Leaders and Furious Mobs. Kout of the Insurgents, by General Lincoln, in the Dead of Winter. Patriotic Old Massachusetts in a Ferment. Causes of Public Dis content. Total Exhaustion of Credit. Prostration of Trade. Ruinous Debts, Heavy Taxation. Weakness of the Government. An Excited Populace. Turbulence and Lawlessness. All Authority Spurned. A Bloody Conflict Invited Courts of Justice Broken Up. Indignation of Washington Heroism on the Bench The National Forces Augmented. Fears- of a General Civil War Unscrupulousness of Shays. Intention to Seize the Capital. Governor Bowdoin s De fenses. General Lincoln in Command. Active Move ment of His Troops. A Terrible Snow-Storm. Hard ships of Shays s Army. Federal Bayonets Triumphant. SCENE IX SHAYS S REBELLION. " Sirs. I shall sit here an a judffe, or die here as a general!" RIPLT or GENERAL COBB, A ALtssACHUbETTS JOUOK, TO A SUMMONS TO DIKSOLVET HIS COURT. NE of the most noteworthy facts in the history of the early period the first decade of the- American Republic, is, that in the state of Mas sachusetts, the state which had been foremost in the war of independence against Great Britain, occurred the first instance of armed and organ ized rebellion against the situation and conduct of public affairs consequent upon the changed character of the government and its administrators. It will be necessary, however, not only in behalf of the consistency of popular government, but as vindicating the patriotic old commonwealth in question from any imputation of lawless proclivities, to narrate, first, some of the peculiar cir cumstances which brought distress to a large class of citizens, and provoked political discontent, finally culminating in bloody sedition. For a considerable period after the people of the United States had secured peace, through British acknowledgment of their independence, was the exhausting effect felt by them, of their exertions in so hard-fought and prolonged a contest. The popular enthusiasm, excited by a victorious termination of the struggle, began to subside, and the sacrifices of the revolution soon became known and felt. The claims of those who- toiled, and fought, and suffered in the arduous contest, were strongly urged, and the government had neither resources nor power to satisfy or to silence them. The wealth 126 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1S7G. of the country had been totally exhausted during the revolution, and, worse than sill, the public credit had become so shaken and prostrated as to be a mere by-word, at home and abroad, no matter what might be the pledges of security proffered. Taxes could not be collected, because even if for no other reason, there was no money to represent the value of the little personal property which had not been, and the land which could not be, destroyed ; and com merce, though preparing to burst from its thraldom, had not yet had time to restore to the annual produce of the country its ex changeable value. The states owed each a heavy debt for local services rendered during the revolution, for which it was bound to provide, and each had its own domestic government to support. The causes of discontent which thus ex isted after the restoration of peace, in every part of the Union, were perhaps no where more operative than in New En gland, growing out of the following circum stances : The great exertions which had been put forth by those states in the course of the war, had accumulated a mass of debt, the taxes for the payment of which were felt as peculiarly burdensome, be cause the fisheries of this people had be come so unproductive. This important branch of industry, which, before the revo lutionary war, had in some measure com pensated for the want of those rich staples that were possessed by the middle and southern colonies, had been unavoidably- neglected during the struggle for inde pendence ; and, as a consequence of that independence, had not only been deprived of the encouragements under which it had flourished, but its produce was excluded from markets which had formerly been opened to it. The restlessness produced by the uneasy situation of individuals, to gether with lax notions concerning public and private faith, and erroneous opinions, tended to confound liberty with an exemp tion from legal control. This turbulent spirit was carried out and encouraged, with great effect upon the minds of the populace, by public conven tions, which, after voting their own con stitutionality, and assuming the name and authority of the people, arrayed themselves against the regular legislative power, and declared in the most exciting language the grievances by which they alleged them selves to be oppressed. Reckless and desperate, a body of mal contents entered the legislative chamber at Exeter, New Hampshire, and deliber ately overpowered and made prisoners the general assembly of the state ; the citizens, however, rose and crushed the movement in a few hours. But the center of this spirit of lawless violence throughout New England, culmin ated in 178G, in the state of Massachu setts, where, on account of the calamitous interruption of the regular trades and oc cupations, on land and sea, a vast number of the male population, principally young men, became impoverished, and were thrown upon society. The general court, or legislature, of Massachusetts, had found it necessary to impose taxes which, perhaps, in any case would have been ill-received, but which, in the existing state of feeling and social disorganization, led to general resistance and open rebellion. The dis contented, led on by ambitious and un principled leaders, provided themselves with arms of every description ; they had seen the country free itself from the tyr anny of Britain by these means, and now they were about to try the same against, what they considered the tyranny of their own government. Things continued to go on in this way for some time, when, the number of the malcontents becoming so large and formidable, the militia were called out to protect the sittings of the courts, which it was the object of the in surgents to prevent ; and so conciliatory and considerate was the government, that their grievances were made the subject of repeated and anxious counsel, and as much as possible redressed. Bills were passed for diminishing legal costs, law charges being at that time enormous ; and for al lowing the payment of taxes and private debts in specific articles instead of coin, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 127 of which latter there was scarce ly any in circulation ; as well as for applying certain revenues, formerly devoted to other pur- ""^-^^dl poses, to the payment of govern- J mental dues. So far were con- ~ = ~- cessions made ; still the agitation contin ued, and the habeas corpus act was sus pended for eight months. Nevertheless, though every preparation was thus made to secure protection to the government, full pardon for past offenses was promised to all, if they would cease from their illegal agitations. Doubtless, but for the daring and des peration of one man, Daniel Shays, order would have been restored. Great anxiety filled the minds of the patriotic statesmen throughout the coun try, at this state of anarchy ; and from the bosom of Washington, in especial, there went forth utterances of profound indignation and alarm. "For God s sake tell me," said he in a letter to Colonel Humphreys, " what is the cause of all these commotions ? do they proceed from licentiousness, British influence dissemin ated by the tories, or real grievances which admit of redress ? if the latter, why was redress delayed until the public mind had become so much agitated ? if the former, why are not the powers of government triedatonce? it is as well to be with out, aS not tO SHAYS 8 FORCES IX MASSACHUSETTS. exercise them. Commotions of this sort, like snowballs, gather strength as they roll, if there is no opposition in the way to divide and crumble them." Such was Washington s horror of this Massachusetts tumult. Colonel Humphreys, while acknowledg ing his inability to give any adequate ex planation of the cause and origin of the difficulties, yet gave it as his opinion that they were attributable to all the three causes which Washington had suggested that, in Massachusetts particularly, there were a few real grievances, and also some wicked agents or emissaries who made it their business to magnify every existing evil, and to foment causeless jeal- 128 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. ousies and commotions. Under the influ ence of such examples, it was plain to see that there had become prevalent among many of the people a licentious spirit, a leveling principle, a desire of change, and a wish to annihilate all debts, both public and private. The force of this party throughout New England was computed at twelve or fifteen thousand men, chiefly of the young and active part of the community, who were more easily collected than kept together. Many of these were desperate and unprin cipled, opposed to all good government and legal discipline, and consequently ready, when any demagogue should light the spark of violence, to commit overt acts of treason and bring on a bloody civil war. This state of things alarmed greatly the friends of law and order, and made them firm in the conviction that there needed to be established, above all things, a govern ment for the people of the United States, which should have the power to protect them in their lawful pursuits, and which would be efficient in cases of internal commotions, or foreign invasions, a gov ernment resting upon liberty, and regu lated by laws firmly administered. The mob spirit grew more and more rampant in Massachusetts, and, in spite of the vigilance which the authorities now put forth, generally succeeded in its demon strations of violence, and in thwarting the plans of that faithful and energetic chief magistrate, Governor Bowdoin. In one instance, however, at least, their proceed ings in this respect were summarily brought to a stand. This was in the town of Taunton, where Judge Cobb, formerly an officer under Washington, and still one of the state-militia generals, was holding a court session at the time. On the ar rival of the insurgents at the court-house, General Cobb promptly confronted them, and, after exhorting them to render that obedience to the laws which is binding on every citizen, emphatically declared to them, "Sirs! I shall sit here as a judye, or die here as a general! " Knowing him to be a, man who knew his rights and wuiild maintain them at any cost, the mob, though more numerous than the force that General Cobb could summon, concluded that the safest course for them to pursue was to disperse. Ostensibly on account of the danger which threatened the frontiers, but really, it would seem, with a view to the sit uation of affairs in Massachusetts, congress had agreed to augment the military establishment to a much larger and more effective standard, and had detached the secretary of war, General Knox, to the eastward, with directions to concert measures with the government of the state for the safety of the public arsenals. So unfavorable, indeed, was the aspect of affairs, that fears were seriously en tertained that the torch of civil dis cord, about to be lighted up in Massa chusetts, would communicate its flame to all New England, and perhaps spread the conflagration throughout the Union. A few of the agitators having, at length, been seized and lodged in Boston jail, the details of which will be found more particularly narrated on a subsequent page, the exasperation of their associates was greatly increased, and in a short time they organized themselves as an armed force, under the command of Daniel Shays, Luke Day, and Eli Parsons ; but some little time elapsed before the state was fully prepared to show its military power, though the riotous interference with the- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 129 courts of justice was repeatedly enacted. In the account of these proceedings given by that excellent and most reliable histo rian, Mr. Lossing, it is stated that, while the legislature was in session, early in November, there were indications that an attempt would be made to interfere with the sittings of the supreme court about to be held in Middlesex county. General Brooks, a gallant officer of the revolution, in command of the militia of that district, was ordered to have a strong force in readiness to march to Cambridge if neces sary. Among those summoned, and held in readiness, were three regiments and four artillery companies of Middlesex county, and one company of infantry and one of artillery, in Boston. This formida ble display made the Middlesex malcon tents invisible and silent at that time. Brooks was a fine officer, and had showed himself a gallant adherent of the com- mander-in-chief during the conspiracy or mutiny which took place in. Newburgh camp at the close of the revolutionary war. Washington requested him to keep his officers within quarters, that they might not attend the insurgent meeting, his reply was " Sir, I have anticipated your wishes, and my orders are given." " Colonel Brooks, this is just what I ex pected from you," was the reply of the chieftain, as he took the gallant colonel by the hand. The legislature adjourned after a session of six weeks. Their dispersion was the signal for greater activity on the part of the insurgents. They held several meet ings in the western counties, and severely censured the measures recently adopted by the legislature. They resolved, by acclam ation, to resist the execution of the laws of the state ; and everywhere, among un principled men, the most lawless and alarming spirit was manifested. The len iency of the governor was called cowardice. The acts of the legislature were denounced as instruments of tyranny. The people were excited by inflammatory appeals. They were incited to acts of violence, and 9 the courts of justice were again interfered with. Toward the close of November, the sitting of the general court of sessions at Worcester was prevented by an armed mob, who, taught by demagogues, and be lieving that they owed no other obedience to government but in so far as they might approve its measures, declared that they had the right, if they chose, to dispense with all laws which were obnoxious to them, and that they intended to set the state authorities at defiance. In Hamp shire and Middlesex counties, similar bold demonstrations were made. Governor Bowdoin perceived that the time for ar gument and persuasion was at an end, and that the safety of the commonwealth, now really in danger, must be secured by ener getic measures. He accordingly issued a general order for the major-generals throughout the state to see that the mili tia, under their respective commands, were equipped, and ready to respond to any sudden demand for their services. This order inflamed the leaders of the malcon tents and their deluded followers, and the insurrection now began to assume the alarming form of a rebellion. The leaders, expecting severe punishment in the event of failure, became desperate, and were ready to employ desperate measures for the accomplishment of their wicked scheme. They also hoped to secure a suf ficient number of adherents or defenders to procure the governor s pardon in the event of their failure. They were doomed to be disappointed. In December, a large number of the in surgents assembled at Concord, expecting to be joined by others from Bristol, Wor cester, and Hampshire counties. Their object was to prevent the sitting of the court at Cambridge, the dictation of meas ures to the governor, and the suspen sion, for a time at least, of the usual proc esses of law. It is evident, that, while these objects were acknowledged, they in tended, if possible, to seize the capital, take possession of the archives, and pro claim a provisional government. But the project failed, and three of the leading 130 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. traitors of Middlesex soon found them selves within the walls of a Boston jail. The sheriff, in the execution of his war rant for their arrest, was accompanied by a number of influential gentlemen and a company of Boston cavalry, who volun teered their services. Shays and his followers, desperate but determined, for success or utter ruin was the alternative presented, turned their faces westward, and marched upon Spring field for the purpose of interfering with the sitting of the court appointed for the twenty-sixth of December, and, if strong enough, to seize the continental arsenal at that place. They arrived there on the twenty-fifth, took possession of the court house, and presented to the judges a writ ten declaration that the court should not transact business. The powerless judges were compelled to submit. Finding that the lenient measures which had thus far been taken by the legislature to subdue the violence of the insurgents only enlarged their demands, that the pardon proffered to those who would re turn to their duty was rejected with scorn, that the conciliating efforts of govern ment only increased their audacity, and that they were proceeding with more and more energy to marshal their military forces for an aggressive movement, Gov ernor Bowdoin, who had probably been restrained by the temper of the house of representatives from an earlier resort to the final extremity, at length determined, with the advice of council, on a vigorous exertion of all the powers he possessed, for the protection and defense of the com monwealth. Upwards of four thousand militia were ordered into service, and were placed under the command of the veteran General Lincoln, whose gallant military reputation, and well-balanced judgment, rendered him doubly capacitated for so critical and important a trust. It was in the depth of an unusually se vere winter, and which caused bitter suf fering, that the troops thus raised in the eastern part of the state assembled near Boston, and marched towards the scene of action. Those from the western counties met in arms under General Shepard, an officer who had served with honor during the war of the revolution, and took close possession of the federal arsenal at Spring field. Before the arrival of Lincoln, a party of the insurgents presented themselves before the arsenal and demanded its sur render. Attempting to carry out their demand, General Shepard, after warning and entreating them to retire, fired upon them. The first discharge was over their heads ; they took no notice of it. The sec ond was into the ranks ; a cry of " Mur der!" arose, and all fled in confusion, leaving three men dead on the field and one wounded. Urging his march with the utmost celerity, Lincoln soon came up, and pressing the insurgent army, endeavored by a succession of rapid movements, in which the ardor of his troops triumphed over the extreme severity of the season, to disperse or bring it to action. But the insurgents fled to Pelham, where they posted themselves upon two hills, rendered almost inaccessible by the great fall of snow. They used all their address to pro duce a suspension of hostilities until an accommodation might be negotiated with the legislature, believing, as they did, that, if they could keep up their influence until another choice of legislature and gov ernor came around, matters might be molded to their liking. Shays now of fered to lay down his arms on condition of general pardon, which Lincoln, however, was not empowered to grant. At length, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 131 sorely pressed for food, a sudden retreat was made to Petersham. Discovering this, Lincoln set off at six in the evening, and marching all night, forty miles, through intense cold and a driving storm, reached Petersham by daybreak, to the astonishment of the rebels, who had not the least idea of this movement, and ac cordingly fled in dismay or were taken prisoners. X. 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 AITiiirs. 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 Ilules all Hearts. Ratification by the States. Na tional Joy at the Decision. " Should the ttates reject this excellent Constitution, the prolnbility is that nn opportunity will never njiin be offered to cancel another in pecc the next will be drawn m blood." KKMACK or WASIII.NOTON ox Sioxixo THE COKSTITUTIOX. ENnOLLIXQ THE CONSTITUTION. HOUGH the close of the war of i 11 (1 c p c n d c n c e 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 133 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 of 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 Rufus 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 134 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 profopndest 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 ; Robert 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 Robert 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 ; "\Vythe, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 135 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 to 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 nrblest 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 its sittings. It happened, however, that one of the delegates unfortunately lost his copy of this official schedule or orders of the day. General Mitflin, one of the del egates from Pennsylvania, 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 136 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S7G. 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 he 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- FH A) NKLIX PLEADING FOR 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. 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. Franldin, 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 other things : " It is to be 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 pa f ient 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: GEE AT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 137 " 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 stated, 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." 138 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, Rhode 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. XI. 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 Piesident 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 Ilis 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 reit, weary of gazing on the great, where find a glory that is not criminal a pomp that is not con temptible? Yes, there is a man, the first, the last, the best of all, the Cincinnatus 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 BYRON. CCOKDII^G to the terms of the new federal constitution, which had now been assented to and ratified by the 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 Avhich 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 140 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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." Thft 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 tern pore 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 government. 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 141 days to come arc 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- 142 OUK FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S7G. ever he stopped ; and corps of militia, and processions of citizens, attended him through their respective states. At Phil adelphia, lie was received hy 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 was, 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, atone 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: TiiE 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 143 in his favor. 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. PRESIDENTIAL 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 twent} -first of April, and, two days before Washington s arrival, took his seat as the constitutional presiding officer of the senate. On doing this, he 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- PRESIDENTIAL 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, 144 OUK FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 ^ 7 eu> 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 A elvet, 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 the. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 145 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 st} - le, 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 WASHIXGTO:S T the first President of the United States of America, the oath i:o 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 inaugm-al 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 S} T 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. 10 XII. GREATEST DEFEAT AND VICTORY OF AMERICAN ARMS IN THE INDIAN WARS. 1791. Headlong Flight and Destruction cf 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. Ciair 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. Sketch of St. Clair s Conqueror. His Fame at Home and Abroad General Wayne Sent to the Field. Unsuccessfully Proffers Peace. Instantly Prepares for Battle. ;reat 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 inundi wu heard, Nur auitht wn teen but ichaatly views of death, Infectious horror ran from fuce 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 147 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 011 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 Wabasli, 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. Glair, 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- 148 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. dian force which lay concealed in the woods. General St. Clair, who was suffer ing severely from gout, was unable to mount his horse, and had to be carried about in a litter, from which 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. Clair 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 the 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 THE INDIANS. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 149 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 lady 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 pi eces 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, 150 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. " 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 ! 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 ! " said Mr. Lear. More than once he threw his hands up as he hurled imprecations upon St. Clair. 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 Mon mouth. 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 Maumee, 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 151 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. Glair, 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 152 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. and promptitude ; l>ut 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 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 holiday ; 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 Tippecanoe, 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. XIII. 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 _ MI. His Pathetic Let- I : [IHMHIil ! ter to Fulton. He Invents a Valuable FMBBH 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 equaled in its relation to the progress and power of the United Stales." LORD MACAULAY. RESULTS OF THE COTTON-GIN. EYOND 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, by an extraordinary impetus, the manufactures and commerce of the world. It may be re garded, in a word, as the first key which was applied to the unlocking of those won drous natural capabilities of the new-born republic, the continued development of which 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, militarj-, 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, of 154 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, ia 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, whoce 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 grate-fully 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 thus 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! 156 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 such 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 ver} 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 sixt} -five pounds could be cleaned in a day. After this, the cotton was further cleaned from dirt and knots by bowing. 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 fly 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 157 <jin 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 by 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 equalty 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- j ner, Mr. Miller, for, on its truth or falsity, j their fortune and fate depended. For a I 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 saj s: 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 j ears out of the midst of it is, to him who makes it, an immense sacrifice. My most un re 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, witli 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 158 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 even-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 tiling; 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 ] trope rty, he was actually a poor man y struggling against remorseless fate. Mr. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 159 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 poplilar 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. XIV. 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. " llcre i to your fery pool health, And Umn ta wh.uky duty ! " SONO or THE TIMES. 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 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 dppressicn to be battled against to the very last extremity; CAUSES OF THE WHISKEY IN SURRECTION IN PENN. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 161 declaring, too, that 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 2 only one day preceding the assembling of an import- > ant meeting of malcon- * tents of Pittsburg, that - the tax collector for the ~ counties of Allegany and 1/1 ~ Washington made his ap- | pearance. Aware of his t business, a party of men, ~ armed and disguised, way- S laid him at a place on ||;A| j S z Pigeon Creek, inWashing- // > V/Y fl V fc f ton county, seized, tarred c and feathered him, cut off < 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 theperpetratorsof thisout- rage, the marshal s deputy was also seized, whipped, tarred and feathered; and, after havi ng his mono} and horse taken from him, the ruffians blindfoldednnd 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. 162 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. Ou 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 distiller?. 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 arm} 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, " mending the still." It is not to be doubted that this inflamed state of the public mind was greatly ag gravated by the ambitious de-signs and intemperate speeches of a few leading men. Conspicuous among the friends of the malcontents were Bradford, Marshall, Sinilie, 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 alwaj S 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 163 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, 1C4 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. the intensencss of the heat, and the danger of an immediate communication of iire to the house, obliged the brave Kirkpat- riek 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 calf, 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 strong, 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 j ears, 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 Mifilin, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 165 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 Xew 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 Ross 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 Mifflin, 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 166 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 t\vo 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 deputj , giving directions to Lee to inarch 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 pi-evented 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." XV. 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 toby the South Northern Disunion Threats Schemes of Conciliation. IIo\v the Question was Settled. Sweetening Two Bitter Pills. Jefferson s Graphic Account. General Washington s Preference. His Site on the Potomac Adopted. Some Hather Personal Anecdotes. Work of Laying Out the City. Its Original Aspect and Condition Early Tiials 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 hnt the palace tnwern : Where akimmed the hark the war-thip lowers j Joy gaily carol* where was dilence rmle ; And cultured thuueandu throug the solitude. EXT 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 bod} 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 execiitivc 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- 168 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-187G. ticularly against congress, the government of the Union was grossly insulted, and 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 the 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 iho 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 da} , 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 ceparation 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 011 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 1C9 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 dav, 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 w:is 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 sit 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 man}- }*ears 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. 170 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. Byrnes, who was especially obstinate, and, highly prizing, as he did, the tract in 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 Ityrnes ! what would your land have heen 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, 1 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, GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 171 WASHINGTON, D. C., IN 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 cit} , 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 172 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 NATIONAL 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 SYMBOLIC STATUE OF AMKRIOA 8UKMOC -NTl.NU THE U. 8. CAPITOL. most noble view presents itself to the eye of the beholder that the imagination can conceive. On the fourth of July, 1851, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 173 the corner-stone of that magnificent ex tension of the capitol which lias 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, I" XVI. 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-Storm Takes a Fatal Cold. Last Letter Written by His Hand Heads the Paj>ers in the Evening. Char acteristic Reply to His Wile. Passes a Kestless Night Alarming Condition the Next Day. Medi cal Treatment of no Avail. Calls tor 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 18G7. Appearance of His Remains. "Posterity will talk of Wfinhineton with reverence, na (he founder of a frret empire, when my name ahull be. lost in the vortex of revolution."-NAl-OLOJI iio- KATAIITE. ASHINGTON 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 uncertainty 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, lie wrote, but a few months prior to his decease : " My greatest anxiety is to have all these concerns in such a clear and distinct GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 175 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 j-ears 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. Ctistis : 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 bad, 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 xisual. 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 176 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. woman (Caroline) went into the room to make a lire, 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 di Hit-ill ty, 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 Rawlins, 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 Rawlins appeared to be agi tated, said, as well as lie 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 went her 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 f<-lt 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 wi.h 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 mm-li ;" and upon my assuring him that I could feel nothing but a wish to give him ease, he replied, " Well, it is a debt \ve 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. nr 177 DEATH OF WASHINGTON. DEC. 14, 1799. 20th of the month. The general s serv ant, Christopher, was in the 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 Avas led to a chair by the fire ; lie 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 12 raised him up. He then 5 said to the physicians, " I feel myself going; \ I thank you for your BH attentions ; but I pray you to \ 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. 178 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. OEOROK 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 mortal 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 generouslv 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 179 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 " FIRST 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 I". S. 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 THB 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." 180 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 TOM I? OK WASHI1K 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 181 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. XVII. PUNISHMENT AND COMPLETE DEGRADATION OF THE BARBARY STATES BY THE YOUNG REPUBLIC. 1803. Tribute Exacted of all the Nations of Christendom, by the Piratical Powers. The Thunder of American Cannon before their Cities Ignominious Submission of Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. Their Audacious Corsairs Vanquished and Driven in Terror from the Seas. A Boon to the Civilized World. Barbary a Nation of Freebooters. All Commerce at their Mercy. The United States Unknown to Them. Its Flag Descried on the Ocean. Fresh Plunder Anticipated. Seizure of American Ships. Retaliation by the Yankees. Tripoli s Flag Struck at Last. Treaty between the Belligerents New Exactions by the Algerines. Retribution in Store for Them. A United States Frigate in the Pirate Haunts. Grounding of the Philadelphia. Her Triumphant Capture by the Enemy. Their Boisterous Exultation. Decatur Burns Her During the Night. Fierce Rage of the Turks. Bombardment of Tripoli. How " Christian Dogs " were Viewed. Peace Sued for by the Despots. Their Duplicity and Treachery. America s "Tribute" is Powder and Balls. "Ifyou iruiit upon receiving powder u tribute, you rauit expect to receive balli with It I" COMMODOBE DlOATDB TO THB BABBABT QoTBuriuurr. ONSIDEKING the peculiar weakness and insignificance of the Barbary States, as a military power, it may well appear strange to the reader of history, at the present day, that, almost to the opening of the nineteenth century, nearly all the maritime nations of the earth paid tribute to that power, in order to appease the insolence and ob tain exemption from the ravages of their piratical cruisers. The gov ernment of England or of France might, as has been truly remarked, have stopped this system of piracy long before, by one peremptory word ; U "BARBARY! T but > as tlie corsairs committed their depredations chiefly in the Med iterranean, those two countries had no special inducement to interfere. And there was always some jealous calculation of advantage, some pitiful project of turning them to future account, which prevented decisive action on the part of either nation. Then the wars which followed the French Revolution kept Europe busy at home, and gave the Barbary sailors the opportunity of pursuing their calling for a few years longer with impunity. The English, with large fleets and naval stations in the Mediterranean, had nothing to fear from them, and were, probably, not much displeased with the con tributions levied upon the commerce of other nations. French merchantmen kept at home. Spain, Sweden, Denmark, and Holland tried to outbid one another for the favor of the bey, dey, and pacha, and were robbed and enslaved whenever it suited the inter ests of their highnesses. The Portuguese prudently kept out of reach, and protected their coast by guarding the Straits of Gibraltar. It was a long time, comparatively, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 183 before their highnesses were made ac quainted with the fact of there being a sovereignty called the United States. In course of time, the piratical cruisers descried a new flag floating proudly from the mast-head of heavy-freighted craft plowing their way gallantly through the blue waters ; but, though its appearance was hailed with avaricious joy, as insuring additional harvests of plunder, it was soon to seal their doom, and scatter them, af frighted and dismayed, from the high seas. Few subjects had excited more irritation among the people as well as the authori ties of the government of the United States, up to this period of their national independence, than this lawless and out rageous captivity of their fellow-citizens in Algiers. It may well be supposed, however, that no such galling yoke could long be worn or borne by a free people ; and it was not long, therefore, before Washington recom mended the construction of a naval arma ment adequate to the protection of the commerce of the United States against the depredations committed by the dey s cor sairs, and this proposal eventually received the sanction of congress. The act pro vided for four frigates of forty-four guns each, and two of thirty-six guns each, and in due time they were built, manned and equipped, and put in commission, to vindi cate the rights and liberties of the Amer ican flag. There was retribution in store for the Barbary States, to be dealt out to them by the youngest and most remote in the family of nations ! The naval squadron intended for this purpose consisted of the frigate President, commanded by Commodore Dale, the frigate Philadelphia, commanded by Cap tain Barron, the frigate Essex, under Captain Bainbridge, and the schooner En terprise, Lieutenant Commandant Sterrett. In obedience to instructions from Commo dore Dale, Bainbridge appeared off the cities of Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli ; and during the winter and spring of 1802, cruised in different parts of the Mediterra nean, and convoyed the United States merchant vessels issuing from various ports, out of that infested sea. After this period of service, Commodore Dale was succeeded in his command, first by Com modore Richard Y. Morris, and subse quently by Commodore Preble. The Essex, appearing unseaworthy, was sent home. It should also be here mentioned, that, on the sixth of August, 1801, the Enterprise fell in with a Tripolitan ship of war of equal force ; the action continued three hours and a half, the corsair fight ing with great obstinacy, and even des peration, until she struck, having lost fifty killed and wounded / while the Enterprise had not a man injured. This was the first Tripolitan ship-of-war, and indeed the first armed vessel of any of the Bar bary powers, which ever struck to the American flag. Not only did the United States now determine to protect its maritime rights as a commercial power, but it resolved to pursue the matter aggressively, and punish the insolence of the piratical bar barians who thus assumed to dictate to Christendom. Under Commodore Preble, the squadron consisted of the frigate Phil adelphia, of forty-four guns, commanded by Bainbridge; the frigate Constitution, of forty-four guns, commanded by Preble ; the brig Syren, of twelve guns, commanded by Stewart; and the schooners Vixen, Nautilus, Argus, and Enterprise, of twelve 184 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. to sixteen guns each, and commanded re spectively by Lieutenants Smith, Seiners, Hull, and Decatur. Their orders were to humble and punish the Barbary sover eigns. While going up the Mediterranean, the Philadelphia descried, on the coast of Spain, near Cape de Gatte, a ship car rying only her foresail, with a brig in company. It being night, and the guns of the craft being housed, it was not easy to at once discover her true character. After repeatedly hailing, she proved to be a ship-of-war from Barbary, on which in formation, Bainbridge ordered her boat to be sent on board the Philadelphia, with her papers ; the latter showed that she was a cruiser belonging to the emperor of Morocco, and called the Meshboha, com manded by Ibrahim Lubarez, mounting twenty-two guns, and carrying one hun dred and twenty men. By not making themselves known, on board the Philadelphia, to the Moorish officer who presented himself, the latter made free to say that the brig in company was American, and had been with them three or four days, was bound to some port in Spain, and had been boarded by them, but not detained. The small sail, how ever, which the brig was unt.or, induced Bainbridge to suspect that she had been captured ; he therefore sent his first lieu tenant on board the pirate, to see if there were any American prisoners. Bainbridge instantly ordered all the Moorish officers and crew on board the Philadelphia. Owing to the high wind and sea, the greater part of the night was thus occupied in getting the prisoners on board and manning the prize, by which detention the brig was lost sight of, nor was she discovered again until late in the afternoon of the ensuing day, when she was met coming round Cape de Gatte from the eastward, standing close in shore for Almira Bay ; but in consequence of light winds, she was not re-captured until mid night. The Moors confessed that they came out for the sole purpose of cruising for, and capturing, American vessels. On the morning after the capture, the Moor ish commander was requested to exhibit the orders which authorized him to cap ture American vessels, to which he replied, that he had none. To the question, why he had captured the brig, he answered, that as there was some misunderstanding between his master and the United States consul, at Tangier, he was induced to commit this act, in anticipation of the war, which he thought was inevitable. Cap tain Bainbridge observed to him, that if such had been his intention previously to sailing, he ought not, as an honorable officer, to have availed himself of the pro- tection of the consid s passports, which, from all appearances, were obtained with the view of practicing a deception on the GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 185 BURNING OF THE PHILADELPHIA. United States cruisers. Captain Bain- bridge expressed an unwillingness to be lieve him capable of acting thus dishonor ably, and therefore must presume that this violation of national faith was com mitted under the authority of the emperor. The Moorish commander, still persisting in his first denial, Captain Bainbridge turned upon him, and sternly remarked " Then, sir, I must consider you a pirate, and will be obliged to treat you as such." Bainbridge now pulled out his watch, showed Lubarez the hour, and stated in an impressive tone, that he was about to visit the quarter-deck for half an hour, and if his authority for depredating on the com merce of the United States was not forth coming on his return, he would immedi ately hang him to the main yard, as a pirate and malefactor. At the appointed time, Captain Bainbridge returned to the cabin with watch in hand, and his deter mined purpose manifest in every look and movement. Startled at the course which things seemed to be taking, the Moor has tily proceeded to unbutton several waist coats, and, from the inside pocket of the fifth, drew out the secret document, the nature of which confirmed the American commander s suspicions. Lubarez was a man of education, great dignity, and had for many years represented the emperor of Morocco, as minister at the courts of France and Spain. His capture was most timely. The attention of Commodore Preble was first directed toward Morocco, and anchoring at Tangier with a part of his squadron, in October, 1803, he humbled the emperor by proposing such terms, and insisting on their acceptance, as placed the relations of the United States with that power on a greatly-improved footing. Most of the armament was now to be concentrated before Tripoli. On arriving off that port, the Philadelphia, Captain Bainbridge, was sent into the harbor to reconnoiter. While in eager pursuit of a small vessel, he unfortunately advanced so far that the frigate grounded on a ledge of rocks, in plain sight of the enemy, and all attempts to remove her were absolutely in vain. The sea around her was imme diately covered with Tripolitan gunboats, and Bainbridge was compelled to surren der, the ship being a perfect wreck, and exposed to the constant fire of the gun boats for more than five hours. Immedi ate possession was taken of the frigate, she being entered at every point, and an indiscriminate plunder ensuing. 186 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, a gallant officer of the besieging squadron, early proposed a plan for re-capturing or de stroying the Philadelphia, and, accord ingly, Commodore Preble directed him to proceed in the ketch Intrepid, carrying four guns and seventy-five men, under the escort of the Syren, Captain Stewart, in the prosecution of his plan. The Philadelphia lay within half gun shot of the governor s palace, and several cruisers and gun-boats surrounded her with jealous vigilance. The Intrepid entered the harbor alone, about eight o clock in the evening, and in a short time succeeded in getting near the Philadelphia, without having awakened suspicions of any hostile design being under way. The Intrepid was a vessel which had been captured from the Tripolitans, and, assuming on this oc casion her former national appearance, was permitted to warp alongside, under the alleged pretense that she had lost all her anchors. The moment the vessel came in contact, Decatur and his followers leaped on board, and soon overwhelmed a crew that was paralyzed with consterna tion. Twenty of the Tripolitans were killed. All the surrounding batteries being opened upon the Philadelphia, she was immediately set on fire, and not aban doned until thoroughly wrapped in flames ; when, a favoring breeze springing up, the Intrepid extricated herself from her prey, and sailed triumphantly out of the harbor amid the light of the conflagration. Not the slightest loss of life occurred on the side of the Americans to shade the splen dor of the enterprise. One seaman re ceived a severe wound, under peculiar circumstances. It appears that as soon as the Intrepid was warped alongside the Philadelphia, Decatur sprang on board, quickly followed by the other officers and men. Instantly, the brave commander, with his gallant comrades, rushed, sword in hand, on the enemy, who were crowded together on the forecastle, and killed or drove into the sea the whole gang. In the first desperate struggle, Decatur was dis armed and fell, momentarily overpowered in the sanguinary melee. A saber was already lifted to strike the fatal blow, when this heroic seaman, observing the perilous situation of his officer, reached forward, and received the blow of the saber on his arm. It is recorded that nothing could exceed the rage of the sovereign, at the loss of his valuable prize. Barbarian-like, he ordered the prison to be immediately sur rounded by guards, and interrupted all intercourse between the officers and men. They were also conducted under a strong guard to the castle, and confined in a cold and damp apartment, with only one opening at the top, which was grated with iron; light and air came through this aperture solel} . Thus they were entombed during the remainder of their captivity. Determined now to try the effect of a bombardment, Preble brought together all his forces before Tripoli, in July, 1804. The enemy having sent some gun-boats and galleys without the reef at the mouth of the harbor, two divisions of American gun-boats were formed for the purpose of attacking them, while the large vessels assailed the batteries and town. Early in August, the American squadron ap proached within gun-shot of the town, and opened a tremendous fire of shot and shells, which was as promptly returned by the Tripolitan batteries and shipping. At the same time, the two divisions of gun- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 187 BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. boats, the first under the command of Captain Richard Somers, the second under Captain Stephen Decatur, who had been promoted as a reward for his late achieve ment, advanced against those of the enemy. The squadron was about two hours under the enemy s batteries, gener ally within pistol-shot, ranging by them in deliberate succession, alternately silencing their fires, and launching its thunders into the very palace of royalty, while a yet more animated battle was raging in an other quarter. What the Turks them selves thought of these demonstrations may be judged from the fact that the gov ernor, affecting at first to despise his assailants and their attack, was soon glad to run in dismay to a bomb-proof apart ment in his castle. The sons of the prophet said, in their rage : "The English, French and Spanish consuls, have told us that they are a young nation, and got their independence by means of France ; that they had a small navy and their officers were inexperienced, and that they were merely a nation of merchants, and that, by taking their ships and men, we should get great ransoms. Instead of this, their Preble pays us a coin of shot, shells, and hard blows; and sent a Decatur, in a dark night, with a band of Christian dogs fierce and cruel as the tiger, who killed our "brothers and burnt our ships before our eyes." Preble now planned to send a fire-ship into the enemy s harbor. The Intrepid was fitted out for this service, filled with combustible and explosive materials. The brave Captain Somers was appointed to conduct her, under suitable convoy, to the mouth of the harbor ; choice was also made of two of the fleetest boats in the squad ron, manned with picked crews, to bring them out. At eight o clock in the even ing she stood into the harbor with a mod erate breeze. Several shots were fired at her from the batteries. She had nearly gained her place of destination when she exploded, without having made any of the signals previously concerted to show that all was well. Night hung over the dread ful catastrophe, and left the whole squad ron a prey to the most painful anxiety. The convoy hovered about the harbor until sunrise, when no remains could be discov ered either of the Intrepid or her boats. 188 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. Doubt was now turned into fatal certainty, she had prematurely blown up ! This event was deeply deplored in the United States, and, in memory of the heroic dead, there has been erected a beautiful Doric monument in the capitol grounds at Washington. Soon after these events, Commodore Barron succeeded Preble in command, and it being understood that re-enforcements and another attack were near at hand, the Turkish ruler came to terms, and desired to make peace. True to their characteristic duplicity and treachery, the Algerine authorities, on the breaking-out of war between England and the United States, took advantage of the presumed disabilities of the latter, re sumed their system of piracies and extorting tribute-money and presents. Two squad rons were duly fitted out by the American government, and were commanded by Commodores Decatur and Bainbridge. Appearing before Algiers, Decatur sent the model of a treaty to the governor, de manding instant agreement. The Turk thought it hard to have to relinquish his tribute-money and presents of every sort, and intimated that he would at least like to receive a supply of powder. " If" re plied Decatur, " you insist upon receiving powder as tribute, you must expect to re ceive balls with it ! " The governor turned pale at this stern language, and was glad enough to yield to the terms dictated by the intrepid negotiator. Thus, before the authorities of Barbary had received any intimation of the restor ation of peace between Britain and Amer ica, the American squadron appeared before their capitals ; had captured several of their vessels ; compelled the governor of Algiers to submit to the indignity of sign ing, on Decatur s quarter-deck, a humiliat ing treaty; obliged Tunis to refund the amount of American property which they permitted the English cruisers to take out of their harbor; and exacted of Tripoli an apology for the insult offered to the United States consul, and again to hoist the re public s flag over the consul s house, accompanied by a salute of twenty-four guns. The submission of these powers was complete. They bound themselves to make indemnity for past extortions ; to surrender every prisoner without ransom; and to renounce all claim for tribute from the American government, as well as their barbarous practice of piracy and reducing prisoners to slavery. XVIII. 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. Cceaar to Antony: "Let the old ruffian know 1 have many other ways to dies meantime, Laugh at his challenge." AST. & CLKO., ACT. 4, 8c. 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 Jul} r , 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. 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- MONUMENT TO HAMILTON. 190 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 1780, 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, he resigned his post. His last appearance in military character was again by the side 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. Aaron Burr was one year the senior of Hamilton, in point of age. His father was the Rev. Aaron Burr, the learned and de vout president of Princeton college, and his mother the daughter of that eminent divine, Jonathan Edwards. Before Burr had reached his third year, however, lie was an orphan. When twelve years of age ho 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 he 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 quent!} , in 1776, lie 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 191 candidate for the presidenc} , 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 he 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 to 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 192 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. only regret the circumstance, and must abide the consequences." Burrs curt, rude, and offensive reply began with intimating that Hamilton s letter 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 pecific 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 193 8CEXE OF THE BURR AND HAMILTON DUEL, \VEEHA\VKEN. which were as follows : ( The parties being placed at their stations, the second who gives the word shall ask them whether they are ready ; being answered in the affirmative, he shall say Present; after this, the parties shall present and fire when they please. If one fires before the other, the opposite second shall say, One, two, three, fire ; and lie 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, 13 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 194 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, lie 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- ulae were 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 be imagined. At General Hamilton s request, Bishop Moore and Rev. 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, " 1 have no ill-will against Colonel Burr. I mc.t him with a fixed determination to do him no harm. I forgive all that happened" After some other religious conversation GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 195 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 death 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 1 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 duty 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 Avas 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. XIX. TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE AT MID-DAY. 1806. The Darkness of Night Falls upon the Earth. Stars and Planets 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 18ti J. Millions of Faces Turned Upward The Phenomenon Viewed with Curiosity, Wonder, and Absorbed Delight. Remarkably Fine VVeatber. Serene and Cloudless Heavens. Business Pursuits Abandoned The Moon Crossing the Sun. Distinctness of the Lunar Orb Grand, Dark, Majestic, Mighty. Total Obscurity Some Five Minutes. Appearance of Nature Sensations Produced in the Mind. Involuntary Exclama tions. Effl-ct 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 uiid Earth and Moon. Climax of the Impressive Scene. "The unn i rim dip ; the tam ruh out 1 With one itride come* the dark 1 " CULERIDOB. 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 1C, 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 1800, 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 1C, 180G, is regarded by astronomers as the most memorable ever known in the United States, that of August 7, I860, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 197 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, Avith 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. and 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- 198 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 THK 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 the heavens. The birds, which a quarter of an hour earlier had been fluttering about in great agita tion, seemed now to be convinced that night was at hand. Swallows were dimly seen dropping into the chimneys, the martins returned to their little boxes, the pigeons flew home 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, the stars came into view, more rapidly than in the evening twilight, until perhaps fifty stars appeared to iis, in a broad dark zone of the heavens, crown ing the pines on the western mountain. This wonderful vision of the stars, during the 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 form, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 199 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, 18G9, 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 Russian 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 200 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. scene of awful sublimity. A brilliant amber-colored corona appeared around the sun and moon, 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 iast 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. Himenas 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 ob nervations 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 of 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, Fraser, Rogers, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 201 moon, but appeared in 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, en 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 thirt}--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 slate 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, ruddj r 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, a-nd 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. If 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 Shcl- 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 202 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, ECL1I-8E, AS BKKN 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 ; directlv 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 daz/ling 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 daj -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 pule golden light ; the edges of the distant woods were more apparent than in the full sunlight, each tree seeming to stand out by itsdf, the nearest approach to such a light being that known as the calcium, the latter, however, leing 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 da}-, hung half-way down from the zenith; near the sun glistened a star of the first magnitude, Regulus ; 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 203 August was the cloudiest Jay 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 star"? 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. XX. CONSPIRACY AND TRIAL OF AARON BURR. 1SOG. 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 I?pady to Embark, by the Federal Forces. Capture nnd Arraignment of Burr for High Trea son. Ueckless Character of Burr. His Unscrupulous Ambitions. Enlists Blennerhascett 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 the Trial. Its Legal and Forensic In terest Acquittal on Technical Grounds. Shunned as a Man of Infamy Devotion of His Daughter Theodosia Lifelong nnd Un alterable Love Her Mysterious Fate. Burr s Anguish and Agony. A Moral Wreck and Warning. " Ilia country s curse, his children s shame, Outcast of viituc, peucc, un.1 fume." 8 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, lie still sought some means of triumphing over his enemies and attaining distinction and power. Strong nnd 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-ol f 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 205 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 Emmett. 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, under 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 became 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 206 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 coining, 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 sy 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 the 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 be 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 throe weeks all would be settled. In concluding his letter to Wilkinson, Burr in glowing rhapsody said : " The gods invite to glory and fortune ! 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 j our 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 207 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, probabl} , at New Orleans; that they expected to be ready to inarch 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 ; " to which reply was made, " We knoiu it full icelV 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, and 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 up the movement. According!} , 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- 208 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. BCRR AND 1118 UELl DED FOLLOWERS. Land ; on the twenty-ninth, the adventur ers passed Fort Massac. In the meantime, the United States government hail 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 lie approached New Orleans, lie 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 bo 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." " / arrest you" responded Gaines, " at the, instance of the Unit ad 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 arc 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 209 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 lie 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 napping, 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 14 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 difficult} ; 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. " / 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 no\r 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 01*11 1 IIIST CENTURY. 1776-1876. first time any one had ever seen Aaron Burr unmanned. Oil trial, at last, the whole United States waited the result with profoundest interest. It was one of the most memora ble ,tate occasions, in the history of human governments. Upon the bench sat the venerated Marshall, calm, dignified, learned. For the prosecution, there aj>- 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 Katon 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 down in its legal proofs, and consequently the indictments against the other conspirator- 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, lie- 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 .- 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 obloquy, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 211 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" XXI. FULTON S TRIUMPHANT APPLICATION OF STEAM TO NAVIGATION. 1807. 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. Ilia 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 It to the und mnted perneveranc* and exertion* of the American FULTON that is du the everlasting honor of having produced thi reTolution, but h in nival architecture and navigation." JUKT Ki.r<>i:r or TIIK EXHIBITION OF ALL NATIONS, LONIM)*, ]< ,!. [TEAM, in its application to the purposes of navigation, was first successfully employed by Robert Fulton, a na tive jt Little Britain, Pennsylvania. His peculiar genius manifested itself at an early age, in an irrepressible taste fc. producing drawings and various mechanisms. At lin 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 prove inland navigation. Even at that time he had con ceived the idea of propelling vessels bv 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 sul>- 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 his arduous exertions in the canse 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 FIRST HTKAM-HOAT OS THE HUDSON. GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 213 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 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 years 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 Fulton 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 boat, 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 own 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 214 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 as 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 was 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 any one would be fool enough to go ? One friend was heard to accost another in the street with "John, will thee risk thy life in such a concern ? I tell thee she is the most fear- fid wild fowl living, and thy father ought to restrain thee ! " \\ hen Friday morning came, the wharves, piers, house-tops, and every coifjne de vantuye 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 fearfulness, 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 GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 215 bout until she bore up nearly alongside ; ! In a letter to his friend and patron, Mr. the ilapping of a sail arrested his atten- ! Barlow, Fulton says of this Clermont trial tion, and, as he turned, the waving of so many handkerchiefs, and the smiles of so trip: "My steam-boat voyage to Albanv 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 216 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S7G. miles an hour. I had a light breeze against me the whole way, going and coin ing, so that no use was made of 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 alter 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., tin- 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 closelv 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 feat 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 Albam 7 ; 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. It was in the month of September, 1809, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 217 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 the 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 Jersej", 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. XXII. 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 Hegion of Country is Sunk and Lost. Awful Chasms and Upheavals. lluin and Desolation Brought Upon the Inhabitants. Ilumboldt 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 I)isapj>ear. 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 Destruetiveness. Most Serious in San Francisco. Lives anil Property Lost Women and Children Panic-Struck. Direction of the Shocks Indications of their Approach Effect in the Harbor and Bay. " Diseased nature oftentimes break!) forth Jnstranne eruptions ; and the teeming earth I withn kind of colic pinch d and vex d Hy the Imprisoning of unruly winds \Vithin her womb ; which, fur enlargement striving, Shake the old beldame Earth, and topple down Steeples and mot>s-2rown towers." AFTEK THE EARTHQUAKE. ARTHQUAKES in the United States 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 plav 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, li-om the mouth of the Ohio to that of the St. Francis, the ground rose and sank in ureat 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 an} volcano. The central point of violence in this remarkable earthquake was thought to be near the Little Prairie, twenty-five or hirty miles below New Madrid ; the vibra- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 219 tions from which were felt all over the vulley of the Ohio, as high up as Pitts- burg. The first shock was felt ou the night of December sixteenth, 1811, and was repeated at intervals, with decreasing severity, into February following. Xew 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. Man} 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. The}* 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 the}- 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 was thunderstruck." 220 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1770-1876. SCENE OF THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE IN THE WEST. 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 pass ng 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 221 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 its 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 A-arious 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 222 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. 15y 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 impetuosity, 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 where 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 ing 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, others even GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 223 and straight. Two of them were traced continuously for more than half a mile, and a few were found to be parallel ; but, on the whole, they varied greatly in direc tion, some being ten and others forty-live 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, 224 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. walls and chimneys of a number of houses fell, causing loss 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. XXIII. CAPTURE OF THE BRITISH FRIGATE GUERRIERE BY THE II. S. FRIGATE CONSTITUTION. 1812. Captain Dacres s Insolent Challenge to the American Navy. Captain Hull s Eager Acceptance His "Unrivaled Tactics and Maneuvers. A Short, Terrific, Decisive Contest. Yankee Valor on the Ocean a Fixed Fact, Sternly Respected. The Constitution Becomes the Favorite Ship of the Nation, and is Popularly Called "Old Ironsides." Cruise of the Constitution. Hull, the " Sea King," in Command A Sail ! The Enemy s Squadron ! Chased Three Days by Them. Rowing and Warping in a Calm Most Wonderful Escape on Record. Another Frigate in Sight, the Guer- riere. Her Signals of Defiance Yankee Eagerness for Ac- tion. The Two Frigates Afoul. Yard-arm to Yard-arm Encounter. Fire of the Constitution Reserved. Final and Deadly Broadsides. Fearless Conduct of her Crew. British Colors Hauled Down. Sinking of the Shattered Wreck. Armament and Power of the Ships. An nlmost Equal Match. Anecdotes of the Two Commanders. Honors to the Brave Victors. Future Annals of the Constitution. Her Varied and Noble Career. " Never before, in the history of the world, did an English frigate strike to an American, under equal circumstances." LONDON TIMES. ROUDEST among the triumphs of the American flag will for ever be associated the career of that noble old frigate, the Constitution, re-christened, by popular acclaim, " Old Ironsides," for her grand and victorious resistance to British domination on the ocean, in succes sive and hotly-contested battles. The greatest of these triumphs came, too, at a time when the public heart heaved with despondency; and the sensibilities of a whole nation, deeply wounded by the ill-success of their arms on the frontier, were suddenly thrilled with joy at the announcement of an action brilliant bej-ond all precedent in its results, in the annals of naval warfare. The American heart beat high and warm, as the news of this proud achievement winged itself over the sea and over the land, and from the western to the eastern hemisphere. It may here be stated, as an interesting naval item, that the first commander of this pet frigate was Commodore Samuel Nicholson, brother of Commodore James Nicholson, of revolu tionary note. Previous to the final declaration of war against Great Britain, in June, 1812, preparation had been made by the United States government to send to sea, imme diately on that event, all the frigates and armed vessels that could be put in readi ness, to protect American commerce, and meet the enemy on the ocean. When, 15 226 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. however, these little squadrons left their ports to contend with the haughty mistress of the seas, every American breast was filled with anxiety. Indeed, the British naval commanders had boasted that they would drive the little striped bunting of the upstart states, in affright and dismay, from every part of the broad ocean. How the Constitution saved herself, on first sighting the British lion, is a narrative uniting the romantic and miraculous. It was on the twenty-first of June, that a squadron, consisting of the President, the United States, the Congress, the Hornet, and Argus, under the com mand of Commodore Rodgers, sailed from New York on a cruise in quest of British merchantmen, then on their way from Jamaica to England. Subsequently, the frigate Constitution, Captain Isaac Hull, received orders to join the squadron of Rodgers, and, for that purpose, sailed from the Chesapeake on the twelfth of July. On the seventeenth, being off Egg Harbor, four ships, apparently men-of-war, were discovered from the mast-head to the northward, approaching rapidly with a fine breeze, while it was nearly calm about the Constitution. In the belief that it was the American squadron, waiting her arrival, every effort was made to come up with them. At four in the afternoon, another ship was seen to the north-east, standing for the Constitution, with all sails set. At ten in the evening, being then within six or eight miles of the strange sail, the pri vate signal was made by the Constitution ; which not being answered, it was con cluded that they were the enemy s vessels. And now commenced what may justly be termed the most remarkable series of naval tactics and maneuvers ever known, the most wonderful chase recorded in nautical history, resulting in the success ful, and almost miraculous, escape of the American frigate from a whole squadron of British vessels, commanded by Captain Broke, in close pursuit for nearly three days and nights ! The position of the Constitution seemed hopeless indeed, when she found that one of the enemy s frigates was within about five or six miles, and a line-of-battle ship, a frigate, a brig, and schooner, some ten or twelve miles directly astern, all in chase of her, with a line breeze, and coming up fast, while, unfortunately, the wind had entirely left the Constitution, so that tin- ship would not steer, but fell round off with her head towards the two ships under her lee. The boats were instantly hoisted out, and sent ahead, to tow the ship s head round, and to endeavor to get her farther from the enemy, being now within live miles of three heavy frigates. The boats of the enemy were got out and sent ahead to tow, by whirh, with the light air that remained with them, they came up very fast. Finding the enemy gaining on him, and but little chance of escaping, Hull ordered two guns to be ran out at the cabin windows for stern guns on the gun-deck, and hoisted one of the twenty-four pound ers off the gun-deck, and ran that, with the forecastle gun, an eighteen-pounder, out at the ports on the quarter-deck, and cleared the ship for action, being deter mined they should not capture her, with out encountering a resistance worthy of Americans. At about seven o clock, on the morning of the eighteenth, the nearest ship ap proached within gunshot and directly astern, seeing which, Hull ordered one of the stern guns to be fired, to see if her masts could be reached and disabled, but the shot fell a little short. At eight, four of the enemy s ships were nearly within gunshot, some of them having six or eight boats ahead towing, with all their oars and sweeps out, to row them up to the Consti tution, which they were fast doing. It thus appeared that the noble frigate must be taken that escape was impossible, four heavy ships being already so near, and coming up fast, with not the least hope of a breeze to give the Constitution a chance of getting off by outsailing them. In this situation, and finding himself in only twenty-four fathoms of water, Hull, adopting the advice of Lieutenant Morris, determined to try and warp the ship ahead, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 227 by carrying out anchors and warping her up to them. Three or four hundred fath oms of rope were instantly got up, and two anchors made ready and sent ahead, by which means the ship began to distance the enemy s squadron ; but the latter soon saw this movement, and adopted the same plan, under very advantageous circum stances, as all the boats from the British ships furthermost off, were sent to tow and warp up those nearest to the Constitution, by which means they again came up, almost within gun-shot reach. From nine to twelve, Hull employed all hands in warping the ship ahead, and in starting some of the water in the main hold to lighten her, which, with the help of a slight breeze, enabled the Constitution to rather gain upon the enemy. About two. in the afternoon, all the boats from the line-of-battle ship and from some of the frigates were sent to the foremost frig ate, to endeavor to tow her along more rapidly, but, a light air springing up, the Constitution held way with her pursuer, notwithstanding the latter had eight or ten boats ahead, and all her sails furled to tow her to windward. The wind continued light until eleven at night, and Hull s boats were kept ahead, towing and warp ing to keep out of the reach of the enemy, three of the frigates being now very near; at eleven, however, a fresh breeze blew from the southward, when the boats came alongside and were hoisted up, the ship having too much way to keep them ahead. On the nineteenth, the enemy stood six sail in sight, still in chase, with all can vas spread, and very near. The wind, however, continued to increase, gradually, during the whole day, and Hull gained six or eight miles upon Broke, notwithstand ing the latter pressed on with every inch of sail he could fling to the breeze. The hopes of the Americans were now un bounded in their buoyanc} , and these hopes were succeeded by unspeakable exultation, when it was discovered, at day light on the morning of the twentieth, that only three of the British vessels could be seen from the mast-head, the nearest of which was about twelve miles off, directly astern. All hands were now set at work wetting the Constitution s sails, from the royals down, by means of the engine and fire-buckets, and it was soon found that the enemy was left far in the rear. At a quarter-past eight, the British, finding that they were fast dropping astern, gave over chase, and hauled their wind to the north ward. The Constitution, being separated from the rest of the American squadron, made immediately for Boston, where she arrived in safety, and remained a few days. During the whole of this most remark able, as well as exciting and wearisome chase, the gallant crew of the Constitution remained steadfastly and cheerfully at their stations, without murmur or confu sion, and not only they and their officers, but the noble ship herself, gained a high reputation for masterly movement and behavior. Even the officers of the British squadron expressed their admiration of the consummate nautical knowledge and pro fessional adroitness displayed by Captain Hull, in maneuvering his ship and effecting his escape. But it was soon to be proved that Hull was no less a sea-warrior than a brilliant strategical navigator. On the second day CAPTAIN HULL. of August, Hull again put to sea, pursuing an easterly course. He passed near the coast as far down as the bay of Fundy, then ran off Halifax and Cape Sable ; but, not seeing any vessels for some days, Hull steered toward Newfoundland, passed the 228 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. isle of Sables, and took a station off the gulf of St. Lawrence, to intercept the Canada trade. "While cruising here, lie captured two merchant-vessels. On the fifteenth, lie chased a convoy of five sail, captured one of them, and prevented the prize-ship of an American privateer from being re-taken. Having received informa tion that the British squadron was off the Grand Banks, and not far distant, he changed his cruising-ground, and pro ceeded southward. On the nineteenth of August, 1812, at two o clock in the afternoon, the Constitu tion being in latitude forty-one degrees and forty-two minutes north, and fifty-five degrees and thirty-three minutes west longitude, off the coast of Massachusetts, a ship was discovered from the mast-head of the Constitution. Captain Hull in stantly made all sail in chase, and soon gained on her. At three o clock, it could plainly be perceived that she was a man- of-war, on the starboard tack, under easy sail, close-hauled to the wind ; and by half- past three the stranger was ascertained to be a British frigate, the Guerriere, Cap tain James A. Dacres. This vessel had hoisted at her mast-head, a flag with her assumed name, the Warrior, in large char acters, and on another were inscribed the words, Xot the Little JMt, the latter being a British sloop-of-war that had been badly handled in an engagement with the United States ship President. The Guer riere had looked into several ports inquest of American frigates, and given a chal lenge to all vessels of her class. On the heaving in sight, therefore, of the Consti tution, the British commander assembled his crew, pointed to them the object of their wishes, assured them of an easy vic tory, and was answered by three hearty cheers. So, too, the announcement by Captain Hull, that the ship in sight was a British man-of-war, and probably of about the same force as the Constitution, was received with lively exultation by the brave American crew. Eager for battle and hopeful of victory, Hull ordered the light sails to be taken in, the courses to be hauled up, and the ship to be cleared for action. The enemy now backed her main-top-sail, and waited for the Constitution to come down ; and as soon as the latter was ready for action, she bore down, intending to bring to im mediate engagement the British frigate which had been from the very first, the object of such eager attention by the Americans, on account of her line ap pearance and peculiar movements, and leading to the supposition that she was a craft of more than ordinary* import ance in the estimation of the eneniv, a supposition that did not fail to be realized. The very fact that she bore on one of her Hags the words just quoted, in dicated that the feeling engendered by that event was a terribly sore one to the British, and that, if it were a pos sible thing, the wound was to be healed, at the first opportunity, by some sig nal act of retribution. On the Constitution coming within gun shot, the Guerriere fired a broadside, then filled away, wore, and gave a broadside on the other tack; this firing, however, pro duced no effect, as the shot fell short. The British frigate maneuvered, and wore sev eral times, for about three-quarters of an hour, in order to obtain a raking position, but, not succeeding in this, she bore u]> under her top-sails and jib, with the wind on the quarter. It is related that, during this time, the Constitution not having fired a single broadside, the impatience of her officers and men to engage was so excessive, that nothing but the most rigid discipline could restrain them. Hull, however, was preparing, with the utmost calmness and deliberation, to decide the contest according to a method of his own. Making sail so as to bring the Constitu tion directly up with her antagonist, and, at five minutes before six in the afternoon, being alongside within half pistol shot, Hull ordered a brisk firing to be com menced from all the Constitution s guns, which were double-shotted with round and grape shot ; and so well-directed and so GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 229 warmly kej^ up was the American fire, that, in fifteen minutes, the mizzen-mast of the Guerriere went by tlie board, and her main-yard in her slings. Her hull was much injured, and her rigging and sails completely torn into shreds. The fire was kept up, in the same spirited manner, for fifteen minutes longer, by the Constitution. She had now taken a posi tion for raking, on the bows of the Guer riere, when the latter could only bring her bow guns to bear on the Constitution; the grape-shot and small-arms of the latter ship completely swept the decks of the British frigate, and she was an utter wreck. Thirty minutes after the commencement of the contest, by the Constitution, the main-mast and fore-mast of the Guerriere went by the board, taking with them every spar except the bowsprit. Seeing her con dition, Captain Hull ordered the firing to cease ; and Captain Dacres then struck his colors, which had been fastened to the stump of the mizzen-mast. Setting her fore and main sails, the Con stitution now hauled to the eastward, to repair damages. All her braces, a great part of her standing and running rigging, and some of her spars, were shot away. At seven in the evening, she stood under the lee of the prize, and sent a boat on board, which returned in a short time with Captain Dacres, commander of the ill-fated frigate. In the action, the Constitution lost seven killed, and seven wounded ; the Guerriere, fifteen killed, and sixty-two wounded, the latter including several officers, and there were twenty-four missing. Among the killed, on board of the Constitution, was Lieutenant Bush ; and among the wounded, First Lieutenant Morris and Master Alwyn. The circumstances were as follows : As soon as the two vessels fell afoul of each other, the cabin of the Constitution was observed to take fire, from the close explosion of the forward guns of the enemy, who obtained a small, though but momentary, advantage from his position ; the ready attention, however, of Lieutenant Hoffman, who commanded in the cabin, soon repaired this accident, and a gun of the enemy s, that threatened further injury, was effect ually disabled. But, in a moment, affairs took a more tragical turn, for, the vessels having come close together, both parties prepared to board. The English turned all hands up from below, and mustered for ward, with that object, while Lieutenant Morris, Master Alwyn, and Lieutenant Bush, sprang upon the taffrail of the Con stitution, with a similar intention. The position of the tAvo frigates was already giving employment to the sharpshooters of either side, and incessant volleys of mus ketry rattled in the tumult all around. Morris was shot through the body, but maintained his post, the bullet fortunately missing the vitals. Alwyn was wounded in the shoulder. Bush, just as he was making the spring, was pierced by a ball in the head, and tumbled headlong, in the speedy agonies of death. On the Guerriere s striking her flag, and being in a sinking condition, Captain Hull immediately sent his boats to bring the wounded and prisoners on board the Con stitution. At about two o clock in the afternoon, a sail was discovered off the lar board beam, standing to the south. The Constitution was instantly cleared for action ; but at three, the vessel stood away. At daybreak, information was received from the lieutenant on board the prize, that the Guerriere was an unman ageable wreck, with four feet of water in the hold, and in a sinking condition. As soon, therefore, as all the crew were removed from on board of her, she was abandoned, and her shattered hulk set fire to and blown up. During the whole period of combat, the total loss on board the Constitution amounted to seven killed and seven wounded, and, as soon as she had rove new rigging, applied the neces sary stoppers, and bent a few sails, she was ready, as has been seen, to engage another frigate. Captain Hull, in his tribute to his crew, says : " They all fought with great bravery; from the smallest boy in the ship to the oldest 230 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. I " ACTION IlETWEEN THK FKIOATKS roNSTITt TION AND RUERRIERE. seaman, not a look of fear was seen. They all went into action giving three cheers, and requesting to be laid close alongside the enemy." In the very heat of the engagement, one of the crew of the Con stitution, perceiving that the flag at the foretop-mast head had been shot away, went up with it, and lashed it so securely as to render its removal impossible, unless the mast went with it. The total casualties, from first to last, on board the Guerriere, in killed and wounded, numbered nearly eighty, com prising about one-third of her entire crew, and, according to the statement of Captain Dacres, in his defense before the court GEE AT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 231 which tried him for the loss of his ship, she had, besides being dismasted, received no less than thirty shot as low as five sheets of copper beneath the bends. In respect to armament and force, the Gnerriere rated thirty-eight guns, and car ried forty-nine, one of which was a light boat-carronade. Her gun-deck metal was eighteen-pounders, and her carronades, like those of the Constitution, thirty-twos. The Guerriere was a French-built ship, and nearly as long as her adversary, though the latter was somewhat larger and heavier. The Constitution rated forty- four guns, and mounted fifty-five. On an actual weight, however, of l he shot of both ships, it was found that tne Constitution s twenty-fours were only three pounds heav ier than the Guerriere s eighteens, and there was nearly the same difference in favor of the latter s thirty-twos. The great inferiority of the Guerriere was in her men, as she mustered but two hundred and sixty-three souls at quarters, in conse quence of the absence of some of the offi cers and men who had charge of prizes. Captain Dacres had also some ten or a dozen Americans in his force, who refused to fight, and, much to his credit, he per mitted them to go below. The Constitu tion s complement of men was four hundred and fifty, all newly shipped. The character and peculiarities of this victory have been justly described, by Cooper, as consisting in a fine display of seamanship in the approach, extraordinary efficiency in the attack, and great readiness in repairing damages, all of which denote a disciplined man-of-war. Nor did Captain Dacres lose any professional honor by his defeat. He had handled his ship in a manner to win the applause of his enemies, and only submitted when further resist ance would have been as culpable as, in fact, it was impossible. Less can be said in favor of the efficiency of the Guerriere s batteries, which were not equal to the mode of fighting introduced by her antagonist, and which, indeed, was the commencement of a new era in combats between single ships. Never was any firing so dreadful. The news of this brilliant and unexam pled victory the first, in fact, of any importance, as yet obtained by the United States in the present contest, was received with rapturous applause by the American people, especially in view of the victory having been achieved on the water, an element upon which scarcely any Euro pean nation dared to cope with Brit ish prowess. The event was therefore as mortifying to the pride of England as can possibly be imagined ; for, in the long period of thirty years up to this date, it was Britain s boast that she had not lost a single frigate in anything like an equal conflict. By the English journals, the American navy was contemptuously spoken of as "a few fir-built frigates, manned by a handful of dastards and outlaws ! " But the generosity and heroism of Captain Hull and his crew extorted praise even from the vanquished. Captain Dacres, in his official letter, confesses their conduct to have been " that of a brave enemy the greatest care being taken to prevent our men losing the slightest article, and the greatest attention being paid to the wounded." This victory of Hull, on the ocean, went far to wipe out the stain upon American arms produced by General Wil liam Hull s unfortunate campaign in Canada. The victory of the Constitution over the Guerriere was soon followed by the capture of the Frolic by the United States sloop-of-war Wasp, under Lieuten ant Biddle ; the capture of the Macedo nian, a large frigate, by Commodore Decatur, of the frigate United States; and the capture of the frigate Java, on the twenty-ninth of December, by Commodore Bainbridge, who had succeeded Hull in command of the Constitution. An amusing anecdote is related of Dacres, showing the effect of circum stances upon the gallant captain s temper. A short time previous to her capture by the Constitution, the Guerriere had fallen in with, and taken, a French prize, France and England being then at war. Among the passengers transferred on this occasion to the deck of the Guerriere, was a French 232 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. gentleman charged with dispatches to the American government, and who, on pre senting himself to the British commander, was dispossessed of his books and papers, and peremptorily ordered to go below. Overwhelmed with this sudden and fatal termination of his mission, the gentleman passed several days in great distress of mind, aggravated not a little by the haughty bearing of Dai-res. Once or twice, addressing him with his blandest manner and best English, he said "Captain Dacre, I tank yon, sare, for my government deespatch and my law books." " Go below ! you frog-eating, sallow- faced wretch," was the only reply of the proud Briton. Ere long, however, a sail was descried on the edge of the distant horizon. Her gradually-increasing size gave token that she approached, and, as she neared to view, the tapering spars and the graceful trim of Yankeedom were seen. Dacres, with glass in hand, had observed her from a mere speck, and as soon as lie was satis fied that she was American, gave vent to the wildest expressions of joy. He paced the deck with exulting step swore he would take that craft in fifteen minutes, and, to crown his anticipated triumph, directed that a hogshead of molasses be hoisted upon deck, to treat the - Yankees. Strange as it may appear, this order was actually obeyed ; and, at almost the first shot, the Constitution struck the hogshead, and, its contents spreading over the deck, conduced somewhat, no doubt, to the Guerriere s disadvantage in the action. The Frenchman, who was meanwhile a silent though not an uninterested observer of what was passing before him, again put on his most winning smiles, and remarked "Captain Dacre, sare, wid your permis sion I stay upon deck, and see de fight." "Go to the - ," responded the rough old salt now busied in preparations for a bold and brilliant achievement. The little Frenchman was soon snuglv ensconced among the rigging, and the two vessels continued gradually and silently to approach each other. The Constitution having finally got within reach of the enemy s long-guns, the scene that followed is thus described by the lively deespatch" bearer: "Captain Dacre, he sail dis way, and den he sail dat way. and again he go doom ! De Yankee man, he say nothing but still keep comin . Again, Captain Dacre sail dis way, and den he sail dat way, and again he go boom ! Enfin, de Yankee man go pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop ! I say to Captain Dacre, Sare, wid your permission I go below V/.< too Itot here " He went below ; and the action con tinued. When the firing ceased, the sleep less little Frenchman, peeping up the hatchway, espied one officer-like man, and Captain Dacres handing his sword. The truth flashed upon him in an instant. He rushed upon deck ; and finding himself again at liberty, he capered about like one possessed. Finally advancing to the now mute and fallen Dacres, lie said, with an air which utterly defies description : " You tell me, sare, you take dis ship in fifteen minutes; by gar, he take yon.! Now r , sare," he added, with a low and bitter emphasis, " I tank you for my gov ernment deespatch and law books" As has already been stated, the crew of the Constitution became somewhat impa tient at Hull s cool delay to commence action, after receiving the Guerriere s first fire. Even Morris, on seeing his favorite coxswain carried by a shot, looked rather hard at the old man, as Hull, though young in years, was familiarly called, and then walked up to him, saying, by way of hint, in a low tone, "The ship is ready for action, sir, and the men are getting impa tient." Hull never turned, but. keeping his eye steadily on the enemy, simply replied, "Are you all ready, Mr. Morris?" "All ready," said the lieuten ant. "Don t fire a gun till I give the orders, Mr. Morris," was the rejoinder. Presently, up went a midshipman from the main deck, and, touching his cap, said to the old man, "First division all ready, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 233 sir, the second lieutenant reports the enemy s shot have hurt his men, and he can with difficulty restrain them from returning their fire." " Tell them to wait for orders," was Hull s reply again, with out deigning to turn his head. At length, however, when the Constitution had actu ally become enveloped in the enemy s smoke, and even the old gun-boat men began to stare wonderingly, up jumped the great-hearted Hull in the air, slapped his hand on his thigh with a report like a pistol, and roared out in a voice that reached the gunners in the magazines, " Now, Mr. Morris, give it to them, now give it to them, fore and aft, round and grape, give it to J em, sir, give it to em ! " These words were scarcely uttered, before a whole broadside glanced at half pistol shot the old ship trembling from her keel to her trucks, like an aspen, with the roar and crash of her own guns, then, instantly shooting ahead and doubling across the enemy s bows, another broadside was poured into her, with three deafening cheers. It was terrible. The continual boom and flash of the batteries seemed like a thunder-storm in the tropics. The Constitution arrived in Boston harbor, the last of August. Never did any event spread such universal joy over the whole country, and such astonishment throughout Europe, as this complete and magnificent victory. The gallant Hull, as well as his equally-gallant officers and crew, were received with enthusiastic dem onstrations of gratitude, wherever they appeared. He was presented with the freedom of all the cities, on his route to the seat of government, and with elegant serv ices of silver-plate, also the thanks of leg islative and other bodies ; several officers were promoted ; and congress voted fifty thousand dollars to the crew, as a recom pense for the loss of the prize. At home and abroad, the valor of the American sailor was acknowledged to be a fixed fact. XXIV. 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 he 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 Two 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 svith 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 our*." PEKRT S MKMORABLE DISPATCH ANNOUNCING His VICTORY, OREIGN nations, who still smiled incredulously at the pre- i tensions of the United States in carrj ing on an ocean \v;ir- : 2 f ;m> 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 ox LAKE ERIE, 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 northerly GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 235 winds, afforded but few harbors, and those encumbered with bars at their entrance. At Presque Isle, ninety miles west of l>uf- fulo, 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 lake. 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, or from Philadelphia by the way of Pittsburg. But under all these embarrassments, by 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 Buchan, 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, carrj-ing 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, lie 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 230 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. intention to bring the enemy to close quar ters from the first, and that lie could not advise them better than in the words of Lord Xelson "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 alight 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 fitjlit to-day" 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, and enabling it to keep the weather-gauge. I>ut 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 n eared 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 light 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 237 your honor ! " was the prompt reply, as they touched their tarpaulins, or the hand kerchiefs iu 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 ! T/tey 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 i.nminent 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 238 OUK FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. conflict; so brave and 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, lie passed the line of the enemy, exposed to a perfect shower of their musketry, still standing in the boat, waving his sword and 5 gallantly cheering his men, a w marked and pointed object from 3 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 239 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 EXEMY, AND THEY ARE OURS ! " 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 210 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, otf 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 iind 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 241 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, in 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, lie 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 victcry 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. 16 XXV. CONQUEST AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON, BY THE BRITISH. 1814. Precipitate Flight of tlie President of the United States, and His Cabinet The Capitals of Europe Protected from Fire and Devastation hy Their Conquerors Contrast ot" British Warfare in Amerira. The Capitol, Presidential Mansion, etc , Sacked and Fired. National Indignation Aroused by These Barbarities. Veterans from Europe s Battle-Fields Execute these Deeds. Orders to " Lay Waste" the American Coast. Operations at the South Washington the Prize in View Inefficiency of its Defense. Winder and Barney in Command. The Idi-a of an Attack Scouted. Onward March of the Invaders. Fearful Excitement in the City. Hii>h Officials in Camp The Armies at Bladens- burg Winder Defeated, Barney Taken Hoss s Progress Unopposed Complete Master of the ^---^r^^fij&^tg&^fc^- City. A Rush for the Spoils. British Soldiers in the White .,-. Hlnl&^il^ House. They Eat the President s Dinner Cockburn s f Bold Infamy. Retreat of the Vandal Foe. Their March E-r Upon Baltimore Hoss Shot Dead in the Fight. I will make a ccw-paiture of these Yankee Capital grounds." GKNEBAL Ross. A CLOUD OX THE NATIONAL ESCUTCHEON. ARDLY any event connected with the second war with Great Britain aroused so universal a spirit of indignation on the part of the people of the United States so united a sentiment of hostility against their ancient enemy, as the capture and burning of Washington city, the federal capital, August twenty -fourth, 1814. The commencement of this year was distinguished by military and political occur rences of transcendent importance, such as the entry of the allied armies into Paris, the forced abdication of Napoleon, his exile to Elba, and the establishment of general peace on the continent. But these momentous transactions, which filled the European world with almost boundless exultation, produced in America a very different impres sion. The fact of pacification having been, at last, definitely accomplished throughout Europe, offered to the British a large disposable force, both naval and military, that which had been so successfully instrumental in overthrowing the greatest power and most masterly warrior in the world. With this force, England resolved on giving to the war in America a character of new and increased activity and extent ; and the royal authorities accordingly promulgated it as their determined purpose to lay waste the whole American coast, from Maine to Georgia. In pursuance of this sanguinary piogramme of operations, Admiral Sir Alexander Cockburn was intrusted with the British naval armament, and the army was put in command of Major-General Ross, a brave leader in the Peninsula wars, under Welling ton, the conqueror of Napoleon. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. About the middle of August, an English squadron of between fifty and sixty sail arrived in the Chesapeake, with troops destined to strike the first decisive blow, namely, an attack on Washington, the metropolis of the United States. Of the American forces, General Winder, as the successor of General Van Ness, aided by General Walter Brown and John E. How ard, was in command of the army, and Commodore Barney of the flotilla. The enemy divided his force into three parts. One division was sent up the Potomac, under Captain Gordon, for the purpose of bombarding Fort Warburton, and opening the way to the city of Washington; and another, under Sir Peter Parker, was dispatched to threaten Baltimore. The main body ascended the Patuxent, apparently with the intention of destroy ing Commodore Barney s flotilla, which had taken refuge at the head of that river, but with the real intention, as it was soon discovered, of attacking Washington. In the prosecution of this plan, the expedition proceeded to Benedict, the head of frigate navigation. This place, on the west bank of the Patuxent, was reached on the nine teenth of August ; and, on the next day, the debarkation of the land forces under General Ross, to the number of six thou sand, was completed. On the twenty-first, pursuing the course of the river, the troops moved to Nottingham, and on the twenty- second arrived at Upper Marlborough ; a flotilla, consisting of launches and barges, under Cockburn g command, ascending the river and keeping pace with them. The day following, the flotilla of Commodore Barney, in obedience to orders to that effect, was blown up by men left for that purpose, the commodore having already joined General Winder with his seamen and marines. At this time, when the invading army was within twenty miles of the capital, Winder was at the head of only three thousand men, one-half of whom were mili tia entirely untried. The Baltimore mili tia, those from Annapolis, and the Vir ginia detachment, had not yet arrived. His camp was at the Woody ard, twelve miles from Washington. It was still doubtful whether the British intended an attack upon Fort Warburton, which could offer but little resistance to their land forces, although it could be formidable to their ships, or intended to march directly on Washington. The secretary of war, General Armstrong, himself an old soldier, scouted the idea of an attack on the capi tal, saying, energetically Have they artillery ? No. Have they cavalry ? No. Then don t tell an old sol dier that an} regular army will or can come. We are more frightened than hurt, or likely to be. What do they want, what can the} get, in this sheep-walk? (as he ironically termed the city of magnificent distances. ) If they want to do anything, they must go to Baltimore, not come to this barren wilderness ! " But the secretary s military judgment was found to be at fault, as events soon showed. Alarmed at the threatening- aspect of affairs, President Madison con vened a special cabinet-council, to devise measures for meeting the extraordinary emergency. The District of Columbia, with parts of the adjacent states, was con stituted a distinct military department, and a proclamation was issued for the assembling of congress at a speedy day. But, in anticipation of such movements as these, the British army again set out, on the afternoon of the twenty-second, and, after skirmishing with the Americans, halted for the night. General Winder now retreated to a place called the Old Fields, which covered Bladensburg, the bridges on the east branch of the Potomac, and Fort Warburton. Colonel Monroe, the secretary of state, and subsequently president of the United States, had been with the commanding general for several days, assisting him with his counsel, and actively engaged in reconnoitering the enemy. Late in the evening of the twenty-second, President Madison, the secretaries of war and navy, and the attor ney-general, joined General Winder; here they slept that night, and remained on the 244 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. ground until the evening of the twenty- third, when, in view of the possibility of an immediate attack, it was concluded to abandon that position, and retire to the eastern branch bridge. On the morning of the twenty-third, General Winder s army had been duly mustered and reviewed by the president. It then consisted of four hundred horse, under the command of Colonel Tilghman ; four hundred regular troops, under Colonel Scott; six hundred marines and flotilla men, under Commodore Barney ; and Cap tain Miller, with five pieces of heavy ordnance, and eighteen hundred militia ; forming an aggregate of three thousand two hundred men, with seventeen pieces of artillery. The general staff consisted of the president of the United States, as Commander-in-chief, the secretaries of state, war, and navy, the attorney-general, and General Winder. At Bladensburg, General Stanslmry had arrived from Bal timore, with his brigade of drafted militia; also, the fifth regiment, consisting of the elite of the Baltimore city brigade, under Colonel Sterrett, a battalion of riflemen under Major Pinckney, and Myers s and Magruder s companies of artillery, with six field-pieces. The invading army at Upper Marlbor- ough, on the twenty-third, did not exceed four thousand five hundred effective men, without cavalry, wagons, or means of transportation, and with but three pieces of light artillery, drawn by men. The force remained at Upper Marlborough until the afternoon of the twenty-third, when they commenced their inarch towards Washington, by the way of Bladens burg. Colonel Scott and Major Peter, with light detachments, were sent out to meet and harass the enemy, and General Stansbury was ordered to proceed with the troops under his command, on the route direct to Upper Marlborough. Colonel Scott, with his detachment, met the Brit ish about six miles in advance of the main body, and, after some skirmishing, retreated. The American army at Old Fields, were placed in a favorable attitude of defense; they remained in their position until evening, when, apprehending the approach of the enemy, they were ordered to march to Washington. The British encamped that evening three miles in front of the position which the American troops had left. The retreat of the latter towards the city was precipitate and dis orderly, the enemy being supposed to be in close pursuit. General Winder, on the morning of the twenty-fourth, had established his head quarters, with the main body, at the east ern branch bridge. His force here amounted to three thousand five hundred men ; Gen eral Stansbury was four miles in front at Bladensburg, with twenty-five hundred; Colonel Minor, with seven hundred in the city of Washington, endeavoring to get across to the arsenal ; and General Young s brigade of five hundred, twelve miles below, on the left bank of the Potomac. Various reports were brought to head quarters, of the movements and intentions of the British. The president and heads of departments assembled at General Winder s in the morning. The secretary of state, upon hearing a rumor that the British were marching upon the capital by the way of Bladensburg, proceeded to join General Stansbury, to aid him in forming a line of battle. That commander, on the approach of the enemy, retired from his position in advance of Bladensburg, and occupied the ground west of the village, on the right bank of the eastern branch. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 245 Here it was at last resolved to meet the enemy, and ji<jht the battle that was to decide th.e fate of the metropolis. The best arrangements that time would permit were made. About five hundred yards from the bridg?, the artillery from Baltimore, consisting of six six-pounders, under the command of Captains Myers and Magrtider, were posted behind a kind of breastwork; and Major Pinckney s rifle men were placed in ambush to the right and left, so as to annoy the enemy when attempting to cross the stream, and at the same time, in conjunction with Captain Doughty s company, to support the artil lery. The fifth Baltimore regiment was drawn up about fifty }-ards in the rear, but afterwards removed much further. The other parts of the brigade were also so disposed as to support the artillery, and annoy the enemy in his approach. Shortly after this disposition was made, Lieuten ant-Colonel Beall arrived with about five hundred men from Annapolis, and was posted higher up in a wood on the right of the road. General Winder having, by this time, brought up his main body, had formed it in the rear of Stansbury s brig ade, and in a line with Beall s detachment, and the heavy artillery under Commodore Barney posted to the right on an eminence near the road. This line had scarcely been formed, when the engagement com menced. This was about twelve o clock, the movement being as follows: On the hill which overhangs the stream, a column of the British made its appear ance, and moved down towards the bridge, throwing rockets, and apparently deter mined to force the passage. He now made an attempt to throw a strong body of infantry across the stream, but a few well- directed shot from the artillery compelled him to shelter himself behind some houses. After a considerable pause, a large column of the British rapidly advanced in the face of the battery, which, although managed by skillful and courageous officers, was un able to repress them ; and the} continued to push forward, until they formed a con siderable body on the Washington road. These troops had not advanced far, when the company under Captain Doughty, having discharged their pieces, fled, in spite of the efforts of their commander and of Major Pinckney to rally them. Had they known their power, however, they would have stood their ground ; for it is stated, on the best historical authority, that when General Ross, leading on his troops, reconnoitered the militia stationed on the rising ground, he was alarmed at their formidable appearance. But he had gone too far to retreat ; the order was given to move forward. His alarm was of short continuance. A few congreve rock ets put the Maryland militia to flight ; the riflemen followed; the artillery, after firing not more than twice, rapidly retreated ; then the Baltimore regiment, on which some hopes were placed, fled also. The British now moved on slowly, until they were checked by the marines under Barney. Finding it impossible to force the position of the marines and sailors in front, detachments filed by the right and left and passed up ravines. At the head of one was stationed the Annapolis regi ment, which, as has already been men tioned, fled at the first fire. At the head of the other ravine were placed some reg ulars and militia ; they also showed their instinct of self-preservation, by getting out of harm s way as soon as possible. The sailors and marines, thus deserted, and in danger of being surrounded, retired, their guns and wounded companions falling into the hands of the enemy. Owing to the vigorous fire of the marines, the British lost a large number of men, nearly a thousand, in killed, wounded, and missing; the loss of the Americans was a little rising of two hundred. At the time Commodore Barney ordered a retreat, the British were in his rear, and he was made prisoner. As he lay wounded by the side of the fence, he beckoned to a British soldier, and directed him to call an offi cer. General Ross himself immediately rode up, and, on being informed of Bar ney s rank and situation, caused him to be treated with that gallantry which his char- 246 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. acter merited, ordered his wounds to le dressed, and paroled him. Barney offered his watch, as a gift to the soldier who had so obligingly served him, but the English man replied " / can help a brave man without pay-" Much has been said, by critics and his torians, concerning the course pursued by the chief magistrate of the nation, during PRE8IUKAM MADISON. these occurrences around a:id within the metropolis. Before the American troops broke (sa} s Ingersoll), while showers of rockets were flying where the president stood, lie was requested by General Winder to retire out of their reach, and with his cabinet he withdrew by inglori ous but not ignominious retreat; although everything demonstrated that a field of battle was not Madison s theater of action. Wilkinson s account imputes to General Armstrong, secretary of war, the assertion that the little man meaning Mr. Mad ison said to the veteran whom he would not allow to fight, "Come, General Arm strong, come, Colonel Monroe, let us go, and leave it to the commanding general ; words which may well have been used, without involving any imputation of cow ardice against the utterer. It is extremely uncommon for conspicuous men, sur rounded as the president was, to betray apprehension, even if they feel it. Arm strong, when the troops fled, gave vent to his mortification in strong terms, addressed to the president, of disgust at so base and cowardly a flight, and no doubt the presi dent, amazed and confounded by the trep idation of the troops, retired, as Colonel Monroe his secretary of state did, dis heartened ; General Armstrong indignant ; and Mr. Rush, the youngest and only hoping one of the administration, ashamed ; soon followed by General Winder, demor alized by the whole of the front line van ishing in wild disorder from the conflict. During the day, Mr. Madison frequently dispatched notes, penciled on horseback, to his wife, to keep her informed of its vicissitudes. More than Winder feared and Armstrong predicted of inexperienced troops was realized in the twinkling of an eye. The victory was won, fully and com pletely, by the British ; and it required only to realize in fact, what was now being carried out in spirit, the threat of the commanding invader, " / will make a con- pasture of these Yankee capital grounds ! " Among those who exhibited conspicuous braver} , as participants in these scenes, were Hugh McCulloch and John T. Ken nedy, so prominent in national affairs in after years. By the issue of this battle, General Ross obtained possession of the bridge over the eastern branch of the Potomac. After halting his army for a short time for refreshment, he, with Admiral Cockburn, rode slowly into the wilderness city, almost every male inhabitant of which was then absent, either in arms, or in distant hiding- places, some keeping close in their dwell ings. Many passed the night in huts and cornfields around the town. The first considerable dwelling the enemy was to pass had been Mr. Gallatin s residence, the house of Mr. Sewall, some hundred yards east of the capitol. From behind the side wall of that house, as is supposed, at all events from or near to it, a solitary musket, fired by some excited and perhaps intoxicated person, believed to be a well- known Irish barber, aimed at General Ross, killed the bay mare he rode. In Ross s official report, no mention is made of this affair; but his naval companion, Admiral Cockburn, not only introduces it in his account, but exaggerates and falsi- GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 247 fies the incident into what he character izes as u many similar acts of universal wanton enormity ; " absurdly calling it a heavy fire from the capitol, which was more than twice gun-shot distant ! The house from which this shot came was at once burned by the soldiery, and all its inmates slain. Other houses also shared the same fate, one of these being General Washington s house, the unprovoked de struction of which General Ross much regretted, on being informed of its owner ship. Having arrived on capitol hill, General Ross offered terms of capitulation, which were, that the city might be ransomed for a sum of money nearly equal to the value of the public and private property it contained, and that, on receiving it, the troops should retire to their ships unmo lested. But there being, at the time, neither civil nor military authorities at Washington, \>y whom the propositions could be received, the work of vandalism commenced, Cockburn being the soul of these outrages. It became, at last, a per fect Cossack rush for spoils. To the third brigade, that which was least fatigued by fighting, was assigned the task of destroying. According to the English narrator, who was also the perpe trator of these proceedings, it was a sub lime scene. The sun set, says this jocund barbarian, before the different regiments were in a condition to move in the dark. Before they quitted their ground, the work of destruction had begun in the city. The blazing of houses, ships and stores, the reports of exploding magazines, and the crash of falling roofs, informed them, as they proceeded, of what was going for ward. Nothing (says a British writer) can be conceived finer than the sight which met them as they drew near the town : The sky was brilliantly illuminated by the different conflagrations ; and a dark, red light was thrown upon the road, sufficient to permit each man to view dis tinctly his comrade s face. The scene was striking and sublime, as the burning of St. Sebastian s. The first and second brigades advanced into the plain, halted, and in close column bivouacked for the night. Towards morning, a violent storm CAPTURE AND BURNING OF WASHINGTON BY THE BRITISH, IN 1814. 248 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. of rain, accompanied with thunder and lightning, came on. whose flashes seemed to vie in brilliancy with the flames which burst from the roofs of burning houses, while the thunder drowned the noise of crumbling walls, and was only interrupted by the occasional roar of cannon, and of large depots of gun-powder, as they ex ploded one by one. The description thus coldly penned by one of the actors in this barbarous drama, only falls short of the terrible truth. In the American metropolis, then in the fif teenth j ear, only, of its existence, the British found about nine hundred houses, scattered in groups over a surface of three miles; and two splendid buildings, namely, the capitol, as yet unfinished, and the president s house, these being among the finest specimens of architecture in the new world. But, beautiful though they were, the torch of the incendiary soon, laid them in ruins. The great bridge across the Potomac was also wantonly burnt. The blaze produced by these wholesale acts of destruction was seen even in Balti more, forty miles distant. All that was combustible about the capitol and the pres idential mansion, including therein all the furniture and articles of taste or value, and the valuable libraries of the senate and house of representatives, was reduced to ashes; and the walls of these stately buildings, blackened with smoke and in melancholy demolition, remained, for a time, the monuments of British barbarity. Gales and Seaton s valuable printing establishment was also destroyed. All the public buildings, with the exception of the patent-office, shared the same fate at the hands of the enemy, who also took particular pains to mutilate the beautiful monument erected in honor of the naval heroes who fell at Tripoli. It is related, that when the detachment sent out to destroy the president s house entered his (lining-parlor, they found a dinner-table spread, and covers laid for forty guests. Several kinds of wine, in handsome cut-glass decanters, were cooling ou the side-board ; dishes and plates, knives, forks, and spoons, were arranged for immediate use. In short, everything was ready for the entertainment of a cere monious party. Such were the arrange ments in the dining room, while in the kitchen were others answerable to them in every respect. Spits, loaded with savory joints, turned before the fire; pots, sauce pans, and other culinary \itensils, stood near by ; and all the other requisites for an elegant and substantial repast were exactly in a state which indicated that they had lately and precipitately been abandoned. Theee preparations were be held by apart} of hungry British soldiers, with no indifferent eye. An elegant din ner, even though considerably over-dressed, was a luxury to which few of them, at least for some time back, had been accustomed, and which, after the dangers and fatigues of the day, appeared peculiarly inviting. They sat down to it, therefore, not indeed in the most orderly manner, but with countenances which would scarcely have belied a party of aldermen at a civic feast ; and, having satisfied their appetites with fewer complaints than would have proba bly escaped their rival gourmands afore said, and partaken pretty freely of the presidential wines, they finished with the incendiary s torch, and with such a carni val of violence and plunder as would dis grace even the Thugs of India. Mrs. Madison states that General Ross sent a message, offering her an escort to whatever place of safety she might choose. " I make no war," Ross pretentiously remarked, " on letters or ladies, arid I have heard so much in praise of Mrs. Madison, that I would rather protect than burn a house which sheltered so excellent a lady." She, however, had seasonably absented herself, taking with her such valuables, in the shape of plate, portraits, and ward robe, as she could hastily collect and have placed in a wagon. One of the articles which Mrs. Madison insisted on saving, before leaving, was a large picture of Gen eral Washington by Stuart; it was. how ever, screwed to the wall, and the frame had therefore to be broken and the canvas GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 249 detached therefrom, Mrs. Madison stand ing near b} r , with a carving knife in her hand, ready with her assistance. She succeeded, with the aid of Mr. Jacob Barker, in her purpose, and escaped to a tavern some sixteen miles from the city, Mr. Madison joining her, secretly, in the evening. Ross remained in his camp during the night. Cockburn, it is said, passed the same time, in beastly degra dation, at a brothel. The British having accomplished the object of their visit, passed through Bla- densburg, on the route to Benedict. They left their dead unburied ; such of their wounded as could ride, were placed on horseback, others in carts and wagons, and a considerable number were left behind. The wounded British prisoners were intrusted to the humanity of Com modore Barney, who provided everything for their comfort; and such as recovered were exchanged, and returned to the Brit ish. The retreat of the invaders, though unmolested, was precipitate, and conducted under evident apprehension of an attack. They took Alexandria on the thirtieth of August. On the twelfth of September they marched upon Baltimore, but were repulsed, General Ross losing his life in the preliminary engagement. It was amid the excitement of this movement on the part of the foe, especially their bombard ment of Fort McHenry, that Erancis Key, who was on the spot at the time, composed that popular song, "The Star Spangled Banner." On account of Washington being the seat of government of the American repub lic, its capture occasioned great eclat on the part of the British, and much chagrin and indignation throughout the United States indeed, the whole civilized world exclaimed against the act, as a violation of the rules of modern warfare. The capitals of most of the European kingdoms had lately been in the power of an enemy ; but in no instance had the conqueror been guilty of similar conduct. In this case, too, the outrages were committed while a treaty of peace was actually pending ! The success of the Americans in the battles of Chippewaand Bridgewater, had, doubtless, greatly exasperated the haughty Britons, and led them to this act. So overwhelming was the effect upon the people of the United States, of the wanton burning and plunder of their cap ital, that party spirit instantly vanished, and with it the dissensions which had almost paralyzed the government. A nation of freemen was seen to rise in its strength. Multitudes who had at first opposed the war on the ground of its impol icy, or who had condemned the invasion of Canada, now viewed Great Britain only as a powerful nation, precipitating her armies on the country, with the simple intention of sating her vengeance by desolating its fairest portions. The whole country was in motion ; ever} town was a camp ; all consid erations Avere merged into one, paramount above all others, namely, the defense of the country against a barbarous foe. XXVI. McDONOUGH S NAVAL VICTORY ON LAKE CHAM- PLAIN. 1814. Tlie Projected British Invasion of the Northern States, by Land and Water, Frustrated by an Over- whelming Blow on Their Favorite Element. Most Unexpected and Mortifying Kesultto the Enemy s Pride Not One of the Seventeen British Ensigns Visible Two Hours After the Opening of tho Action by Downie McDonough a Laconic Message. British Advance on New York. Grand Scheme of Conquest. Picked Men Employed Great Land and Naval Force Their Fleet on Lake Champlain. Downie, a Brave Officer, Commands. Flushed Confidence of Victory Pleasure Par ties to "See the Fight" Pluck of Commodore MuDonough His Prayer on the Eve of Battle Strange and Beautiful Omen Its Inspiriting Effect on the Men McDonough Sights the First Gun. The Flagships in Close Grapple. Their Aspect like a Sheet of Fire. Tremendous Cannonade The Two Fleets in Full Action. Desperate Situation of Both. McDonough s Extraordinary Keeort. Downie Completely Circumvented. At the Mercy of the Americans. No English Flag on the Lakes. " Th* Almighty ha been plemed to grant us a signal victory on Lake Champlain." COMMODORE McDoxotoii TO TUB KICRETART or mi NAVY. KEATLY to the joy of the Amer icans, and deeply to the chagrin of their boastful enemy, the pro jected invasion of the northern part of the United States, planned with such apparent sagacity and with the most prodi gal outlay of resources by the British gov ernment, for the fall campaign of 1814, met with the most signal defeat. This scheme of conquest, so grandly organized and con fidently counted upon, covered nothing less than the subjugation of the state of New York and the several states of New England, by a combined movement of the English land and naval forces. The Ameri cans, confiding in the bravery of those with whom they had intrusted the honor of their flag on the ocean Stewart, Perry, McDon- JACK S OFFKRI.NO TO HIS COUNTRY. ou gh> Chauiicey, Allen, Warriiigton, Henley, Woolsey, lilakeley, Cassin, and others, did not shrink from the threatened conflict. The important post of Plattsburg, on Lake Champlain, being, for the time, in a comparatively defenseless state, the British determined to initiate their movement GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 251 by an attack upon that place by land, and, at the same time, to attempt the destruc tion of the American flotilla concentrated on the lake. Accordingly, on the third of September, Sir George Prevost, the governor-general of Canada, at the head of some fourteen thousand men most of them veterans who had served 4 under Wellington in his recent victorious campaigns against Napo leon entered the territories of the United States. On the sixth they arrived at Plattsburg. It is situated near the lake, on the northern bank of the small river Saranac. On their approach, the Ameri can troops, who were posted on the oppo site bank, tore up the planks of the bridges, with which they formed slight breastworks, and prepared to dispute the passage of the stream. The British employed themselves for several days in erecting batteries, while the American forces were daily augmented by the arrival of volunteers and militia. Early in the morning of the eleventh, the Brit ish squadron, commanded by Commodore Downie, appeared off the harbor of Platts burg, where that of the United States, commanded by Commodore McDonough, lay at anchor prepared for battle. Downie, an officer of high distinction, coveted this combat upon Britain s favorite element, not doubting for a moment that he should cover himself with glory, by the speedy capture or annihilation of the Yankee fleet. He little knew the pluck of McDonough, a striking illustration of whose charac ter may here be related : In 1800, McDonough was lieutenant of a United States vessel, the Siren, then cruising in the Mediterranean, under the command of Captain Smith. One forenoon, during the absence of Captain Smith on shore, a merchant brig, under the colors of the United States, came into port, and anchored ahead and close to the Siren. Soon after, a boat was sent from a British frigate then lying in the harbor, and the crew boarded this merchantman. After remaining alongside a little while, the boat returned, with one more man than she went ivith ! This circumstance attracted the notice of McDonough, who sent Lieutenant Page on board the brig, to know the particulars of the affair. Page returned with information that the man had been impressed by the boat that came from the British frigate, although he had a protection as an American citizen. McDonough s blood was up ! In a twink ling, he ordered the Siren s gig to be COMMODORE MCDOXOUGH. manned, and putting himself in her, went in pursuit of the boat, determined to rescue his countryman. He overtook her alongside the British frigate, just as the man at the bow was raising his boat-hook to reach the ship, and took out the Amer ican by force, although the British boat had eight oars, and his only four, and carried him on board the Siren. When the report of this affair was borne to the captain of the British frigate, he put off, in a rage, for the Siren, determined to know how McDonough had dared to take a man from one of his majesty s boats. Politely greeting him, McDonough reso lutely said " The man is an American seaman, and under the protection of the flag of the United States, and it is my duty to protect him." " By ! I don t care for your Amer ican flag ! If you don t give up the man, I ll bring my frigate alongside, and blow you to the devil ! " replied the Britisher. " That you may do ; but, as long as my vessel swims, I shall keep the man," calmly responded McDonough. 252 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. " You are a very young man, and will repent of this indiscretion. If I had been in the boat, you would not dared to have taken the man, I m if you would ! " " / would have taken the man, or lost my life" said McDonough. " What, sir ! would you attempt to stop me, if I were now to undertake to impress men from that brig ? " inquired the Brit ish captain, scornfully. " I would ; and, if you wish to be con vinced, you have only to make a com mencement." Enraged at this, the Englishman returned to his ship, and shortly after wards was seen making in the direction of the American merchantman. McDonough thereupon ordered his boat manned and armed, and got in her himself, all in read iness for pursuit. The Englishman, seeing the turn things were likely to take, and deeming discretion to be the better part of valor, contented himself with taking a cir cuit round the American brig, and return ing again to the frigate. Thus the affair ended. It was with this cool, intrepid, and res olute master of himself and of the situa tion, that Downie, flushed with expectations of a speedy and easy victory, was soon to deal, and by whom, as the sequel showed, lie was doomed to overwhelming defeat, on the waters of that vast lake where his squadron now floated in proud defiance. Indeed, such was the assurance of ability in the mind of Downie, to scatter the Americans to the four winds, that a Brit ish barge, filled with amateur spectators, accompanied the other vessels, which misled McDonough to suppose that there were thirteen barges in force, when in reality there were but twelve, the thir teenth being filled with idlers, who came not to bear the brunt of battle, but to enjoy the excursion, and witness and share the expected victory. On Sunday morning, September 11, 1814, it being the fifth day of the siege, the motives which induced the British general to delay, hitherto, his final assault upon the American works, became appar ent. Relying on his ability to carry thorn, however they might be strengthened and fortified, he had awaited the arrival of the British fleet, in the belief that, with its co-operation, an easy conquest could be made not only of the American army, but also of the American fleet. On this day, therefore, the British fleet, consisting of the frigate Confiance, carrying thirty-nine guns, twenty-seven of which were twenty- four pounders ; the brig Linnet, of sixteen guns ; the sloops Chub and Finch, each carrying eleven guns ; and a large number of galk 3 S, each carrying one or two guns; was seen coming round Cumberland, where the American fleet la} at anchor. The American fleet comprised the ship Saratoga, carding twenty-six guns, eight of which were long twenty-four pounders ; the brig Eagle, of twenty guns; the schooner Ticonderoga, of seventeen guns ; the sloop Preble, seven guns ; and ten galleys, six carrying two guns each, and the remainder one gun apiece. Besides the advantage which the enemy possessed in being able to choose their position, their force was much superior. The number of guns, all told, in the Brit ish fleet, amounted to ninety-five, and of men, to upwards of a thousand ; while the Americans had only eighty-six guns, and eight hundred and twenty men. One of the American vessels had been built with almost incredible dispatch ; eighteen days before, the trees of which it was con structed were actually growing on the shores of the lake. The American vessels were moored in line, with five gun-boats or galleys on each flank. At eight o clock, the look-out boat announced the approach of the British, and at nine, immediately on getting round Cumberland Head, Downie anchored in line abreast of the American force, at about three hundred yards distance, and gave tokens of battle. The youthful McDonough awaited all these movements with perfect calmness and order. Indeed, true to his manly character and to his trained habits of observing the Sabbath and trusting to divine help in human GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 253 affairs, he knelt down in the presence of his men, and solemnly offered up the fol lowing prayer of the Episcopal service appointed to be read before a fight at sea against an enemy: most powerful and glorious Lord God, the Lord of hosts, that rulest and commandest all things; Thou sittest in the throne judging right, and therefore we make our address to thy Divine Majesty in this our necessity, that thou wouldest take the cause into thine own hand, and judge between us and our enemies. Stir up thy strength, Lord, and come and help us ; for thou givest not alway the battle to the strong, but canst save by many or by few. let not our sins now cry against us for vengeance ; but hear us thy poor servants begging mercy and imploring help, and that thou wouldest be a defense unto us against the face of the enemy. Make it appear that thou art our Saviour and mighty Deliv erer, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. The offering up of this invocation to the God of battles, on the eve of that terrible conflict, was a most unusual occur rence, eminently worthy the just cause in whose behalf McDonough was about to strike so decisive a blow. It is also related that, at the very moment of McDonough s ordering his vessels cleared and prepared for action a moment when modern seamen, like old Romans, are extremely alive to signs, which the superstition natural to sensitive and imaginative persons converts into auspicious or ill-boding occurrences, a cheerful indication animated the Sara toga, such as Caesar or Napoleon would have proclaimed to his soldiers with delight, and they would have hailed with enthusiasm. A cock flew upon a gun- slide, clapped his wings, and crowed, a signal of defiance and victory which broke the silence of anxious expectation preced ing the battle, being received with exult ant cheers by the seamen. In the line of battle, the Confiance, Downie s own vessel, was opposed to the Saratoga, commanded by McDonough ; the Linnet to the Eagle; the British galleys and one of their sloops to the Ticonderoga, the Preble, and the left divi sion of the American galleys : their other sloop was opposed to the galleys on the right. To complete his arrangements for the action, McDonough directed two of his galleys to keep in shore of the Eagle ; and a little to windward of her, to sustain the head of the line ; one or two more to lie opposite to the interval between the Eagle and the Saratoga; a few opposite to the interval between the Saratoga and Ticonderoga ; and two or three opposite the interval between the Ticonderoga and the Preble. The rear of the line appears not to have been covered according to this plan. In this position, the weather being per fectly clear and calm, and the bay smooth, the whole force on both sides became engaged in the work of blood; and at the same moment, as if the firing from the first gun from the Confiance had been the signal, the land conflict commenced between the Americans, under General Macomb, and the British, under Sir George Prevost. The latter opened a heavy fire of shot, shells, and rockets, upon the Amer ican lines, and this was continued with little interruption until sunset, and returned with spirit and effect. At six o clock, the firing on the part of the Brit ish ceased, every battery having been silenced by the American artillery. At the commencement of the bombarding, and while the ships were engaged, three desperate efforts were made by the British to pass the Saranac, for the purpose of carrying the American works by storm, or assault. With this view, scaling ladders, fascines, and every implement necessary for the purpose, were prepared. One attempt was made to cross at the village bridge, one at the upper bridge, and one at the ford way, three miles above the works. At each point, they were met at the bank by the American troops and repulsed. But the fate of the day s conflict, in which the two great competitors for mili tary superiority were now so earnestly engaged on the land and on the sea, 254 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. WCDONOL OII S VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. depended chiefly on the result of the naval encounter, and this latter mainly on the result of the sanguinary battle between the two largest ships the Confiance and the Saratoga, under the direction, respec tively, of Downie and McDonough, the commanders of the fleets. As the British came nearer, the brig Eagle, at the head of the American line, opened lire suddenly with a broadside from her four long-guns, but with little effect, on account of the distance. McDonough, however, according to Cooper s narrative, did not give the order to commence, although the enemy s galleys now opened, for it was apparent that the Eagle s fire was useless. As soon, however, :;s it was seen that her shot told, McDonough him self, sighted a long twenty-four, and the gun was fired. This shot is said to have struck the Confiance near the outer hawse- hole, and to have passed the length of her deck, killing and wounding several men, and carrying away the wheel. It was a signal for all the American long-guns to open, and it was soon seen that the Amer ican commanding ship was causing her special antagonist, the Confiance, to suffer heavily. Still the enemy advanced stead ily, and in the most gallant manner, con fident if he could get the desired position with his vessels, that the great weight of the Confiance would at once decide the fortunes of the day. But he had miscal culated his own powers of endurance, and not improbably those of annoyance pos sessed by the enemy on the other side, under the gallant McDonough. The anchors of the Confiance were hanging by the stoppers, in readiness to let go, and the larboard bower was soon cut away, as well as a spare anchor in the larboard forechains. In short, after bearing the fire of the American vessels as long as possible, and the wind beginning to baffle, Downie found himself reduced to the necessity of anchoring while still at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the American line. The helm was put a-port, the ship shot into the wind, and a kedge was let go, while the vessel took a sheer, and brought up with her starboard GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 255 bower. In doing the latter, however, the kedge was fouled and became of no use. In coming to, her halyards were let run, and she hauled up her courses. At this time, the Linnet and Chubb were still standing in, farther to windward, and the former, as her guns bore, fired a broadside at the Saratoga. The Linnet soon after anchored, somewhat nearer the Confiance, getting a very favorable position forward of the Eagle s beam. The Chubb kept under way, intending, if possible, to rake the American line. The Finch got abreast of the Ticonderoga, under her sweeps, supported by the gun-boats. All the English vessels came to in very hand some style, nor did the Confiance fire a single gun until secured. As soon as Downie had performed this duty, in a seaman-like manner, his ship appeared a sheet of fire, discharging all her guns at nearly the same instant, pointed princi pally at the Saratoga. The effect of this broadside thrown from sixteen long twenty-fours, double-shotted, in perfectly smooth water, with guns leveled to point-blank range, and coolly sighted, was terrible upon the ship that received it, killing or wounding one-fifth of her men, including her only lieutenant, Gamble. But, notwithstanding the greater weight of the enemy s battery seemed to be inclin ing the scale of victory in his favor, he suffered prodigiously. The chances, too, against the Saratoga, were accidentally increased by the commander of the Eagle, who, being unable to bring his guns to bear as he wished, cut his cable, and, anchoring between the Saratoga and Ticonderoga, exposed the former vessel to a galling fire from the British brig Linnet. The cannonade from all the vessels was now incessant and destructive, dismount ing guns, disabling crews and masts, and on both sides extremely devastating ; every gun on the side of the Saratoga facing the enemy, was rendered useless, nor was the situation of the English such as to inspire them with any flattering prospect of escap ing annihilation. Things had so culminated that, in respect to each of the combatants, the fortunes of the contest now depended upon the execu tion of one of the most difficult naval ma neuvers, that of winding the vessel round, and bringing a new broadside to bear ! This feat the Confiance essayed in vain. The invincible commander and crew of the Saratoga saw, at once, that the only chance now left was a resort to some extraordinary expedient to meet the immi nent emergency. Three times McDonough had been prostrated, by falling spars, senseless on the deck of his ship fought almost to the water s edge, and incapable of further effort. It was at this critical moment, that an old seaman, named Brum, suggested the contrivance, by means of an anchor, a stern anchor being put on, and the bower cable cut, to turn the ship round, so as to bring into action the side remaining uninjured. Under this arrange ment, the gallant ship rounded to, and presented a fresh broadside to the enemy. This was attended with such destructive effect, that the Confiance was obliged to surrender in a few minutes. No sooner had the Confiance surrendered, than the whole broadside of the Saratoga was brought to bear upon the Linnet, which struck its flag fifteen minutes after wards. The sloop which was opposed to the Eagle, had struck some time before, and drifted down the line. The sloop that was with their galleys had also struck. Three of their galleys were also sunk, and the others pulled off. McDonough s galleys were about obeying with alacrity the signal to pursue them, when report was made of all of them being in a sinking state; it consequently became necessary to annul the signal to the gallej^s, and order their men to the pumps. McDonough states that he could only look at the enemy s vessels going off in a shattered condition, for there was not a mast in either squadron that could stand to make sail on, for any purpose whatsoever. The lower rigging, being nearly shot away, was hanging down as loosely and uselessly as though it had just been placed over the mast-heads. 256 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. The Saratoga received fifty-five round shot in her hull, and the Confiance one hundred and five. The action lasted with out any cessation, on a smooth sea, at close quarters, two hours and twenty min utes. In the American squadron, fifty-two were killed, and fifty-eight wounded. In the British, eighty-four were killed, and one hundred and ten wounded. Among the slain was Downie, the British com mandant. This engagement was in full view of both armies, and of throngs of spectators collected on the heights, border ing on the bay, to witness the momentous scene. It was viewed by the inhabitants with trembling anxiety, as success on the part of the British would have opened to them an easy passage into the heart of the country. When, therefore, the flag of the Confiance was struck, the shores resounded with the deafening acclamations of the troops and citizens. The British, when they saw their fleet succumbing, were terror-stricken. Not one of the numerous British ensigns so gaily streaming at eight o clock was visible soon after ten. British offensive operations in that vast region were now stopped. McDonough received the grateful applause of his countrymen; congress conferred its highest commemor ative honors ; and the legislature of Ver mont presented him with a magnificent estate on Cumberland Head, overlooking the very scene of his splendid victory. XXVII. GENERAL JACKSON S TERRIBLE 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. " The redcoats will find out whom they have to deal with. I will smash them, 10 help me God!" GE.VKKAL JACKSON, ox ASSUMING THE DEFENSE Of NEW ORLEANS. T is a fact fruitful of the most suggestive reflections, that, had the facilities of communication by steam and electricity been enjoyed in 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 258 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 braver} of the American arm} were as follows : On the twenty-fifth of August, 1814, a British army landed at Pensaeola, 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 dered, 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 accordingly hastened to New Orleans,, which he found in great alarm and confu sion. He at once 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 Overtoil, an able and GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 259 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 bayou, 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 iiovel 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, they 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. 260 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Ross. 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 yigilant, his precaution kept plans, and twice had failed and retired from the contest. The eifjhth of January, 1815, at lenyth 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 261 The British batteries, which had been demolished on 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 encom-age 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- 262 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. stances were well calculated to make even the most submissive soldier oppose the authority that would have controlled him. The decided advantage of the Americans gave 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 otli- 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 t hopeless an enterprise, and K immediately commenced the B necessary preparations, though ^ with the utmost secrecy. It * was not until the night of the | eighteenth, however, that the a British camp was entirely ~ evacuated. \ The loss of the British in 4 this fatal expedition was im- ? mense, the narrow field of strife * between the opposing combat- ants being strewed with dead. f So dreadful a carnage, consid- j* ering the length of time and the numbers engaged, has sel- ~ dom been recorded. Two thou- H sand, at the lowest estimate, 2 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 ; thu Americans numbered some six thousand, chiefly militia. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 263 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 Beaut)/, 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 his men forward may be easily judged of from his emphatic exclamation " Remem ber, our watchword is Victor)/ 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." XXVIII. THE EVER-MEMORABLE SEPTEMBER GALE. 1815. Its Violence and Destructiveness Without a Parallel Since the Settlement of the Country. Terror 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 overhead The mingline tempent wears itsgloom, and still The deluge deepens i till the field* around Lie lunk and flatted in the sordid wave. All that the winds had spared. In one wild moment ruined." UDGING 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 which rontinued to fall for about twenty-four hours with a moderate wind 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 rum, from GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 265 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. Chimneys 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 jive thou sand were thus destroyed in the toivn of Dorchester alone. In this same town, also, seventeen houses were unroofed, sixty chimneys blown over, and about forty barns demolished. Rhode 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 ivharves an<l tlirough 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 266 OUR FIRST CEKTURY. 1776-1876. they swept away, without a moment s cheek to their progress, and passed on 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, and by which boats, masts, bales of cotton, and immense quantities of property of every description, were driven along with resistless force. It tr</x <tn <urfnl and tcr- rijic 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 lABLE GALE, 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 chamber-windows. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 267 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. I Jut it would be absolutely impossible to giv^ 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, was estimated at Jive hundred, and about fifty vessels ivrecked. 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 higher than usual, all the vessels going ashore or sink ing, and all the wharves and man}- 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 208 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 very 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 269 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 alread} r 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 snow-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 HOKROKS OK 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 270 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 fr<\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 storm 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- ricane 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 271 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 about 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 destmctiveness. 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, I860, 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. XXIX. VISIT OF LAFAYETTE TO AMERICA, AS THE GUEST OF THE REPUBLIC. 1.824. His Tour of Five 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 Fiimily. 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 d Comrades. Memories, Joys, and Tears. De parts in the United States Ship Lafay ette. His Death in 1834. National Grief. "Fortunate, fortunate man 1 Heaven naw fit to ordain that the electric ipark of liberty hem lil he conducted, through J.nfnvette, from the New World to the Old." UA.NIKL WEBSTER. 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 273 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 18 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 his 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 274 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-187G. reception was given them. The vessel \vas subsequently loaded with riee 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 the 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, zeal, perseverance, and disinterestedness, overcame every objection, and he was appointed a major-general in the American army before he hud reached the age of twenty. But he was yet to stand before the f:,ce 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 camp. 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 \ipon the noble spirit he had shown and the sacrifices lie had made in favor of the American cause, and then told him that lie 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 intp an intimacy, a con- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 275 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 in 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, Lafaj^ette 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 along 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 score and ten, lie 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 A oted 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 happy 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 on Staten Island. Oue of the 276 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. first to greet him was Joseph Bonaparte, brother of the great Napoleon. Joseph then resided at Bordentown, New Jersey ; 1TWORD OF HONOR PRESENTED TO LAFAYETTE. he had alwaj s 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 bands of music played 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-President Tompkins. 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 of 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, he 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, there being a larger- proportion to the whole number of inhabitants from that GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 277 town than any other place in the United States. The British 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, being 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 Wash in g- 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 b} 7 congress to General Lafa} 7 ette, 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 Lafa} r - ette, as he once more trod the bat tle-fields of Vir ginia, can of course hardly be described. York- town, distinguish ed for the surrender of Cornwallis, which event gave the finishing blow to the war, presented a vast field 278 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. of tents at the reception of Lafayette. The same house occupied by Cormvallis, 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 gav.e 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 279 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 LAFAYETTE S BIRTHPLACE. 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 voice. 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. He 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 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 had 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 interesting episode 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 280 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 side by side in battle. Standing for awhile 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 281 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 ,! v. 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 3-0111- 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 } T OU 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 Brandy wine, 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. XXX. 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 " Blackleg " 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 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 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 have teen him fall mortally, or tren doubtfully, wounded, for all the land that if watered hy the King of Floods and all hii tributary streams." RANDOLPH TO BKHTO.X. I truit in Uod, my dear air, you arc untouched i after what has occurred, I would not have harmed you for a thousand worldi." CLAT TO RAMDULPU 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- OF THE "CODE OF HONOR." 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 : GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 283 "I was defeated, horse, foot, and dragoons cut up, clean broke down by the coali tion of Bliiil and Black George by the combination unheard of till then, of the Puritan with the Blackley" 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 \vhat 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 alwaj-s 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 284 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, T 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?" "I want my money," was the reply. "Have you a cart, Mr. Randolph, to GEEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 285 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 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Bladensburg 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 highly has the graphic delineator of these dram at is persona- (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 ivas declining behind the high Itills 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, Trurn- bull, Dayton, Varnum, Cheves, and Bar- bour, this his record should have 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. The} 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 a 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 287 pals saluted each other courteously, accord ing to the xisage of the code. Colonel Tutnall 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 earning 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 w r as 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 words, to get time to kill me. May I not, then, disable him ? Yes, if I please." 288 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 turn to his feelings which solved the was to disable him, and spoil his aim. And then he added, with the deepest feel ing " I would not have seen him fall mor tally, or even doubtfully, u ounded, for all the land that is watered by the Kiinj of Floods and all Jiis tributary stream*" Saying this, Mr. Randolph left Colonel Benton to resume his post, utterly refusing to 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 ^tsv^SSS?^ " .i-^ r^ c *$!j&gi$ <&- " - lr -S-f ^-^~ - v V<*sv^ rf iT 468^ dfjT DUELING-OROUXD AT BI.ADKNSIH HG. 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 hi* 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 289 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 w r hat 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 us (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. 19 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 one 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, " / trust in God, my dear sir, you are untouched; after what has occurred, I would not have harmed you for a thou sand worlds /" On the ensuing Monday, Mr. Clay and 290 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 post. 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 Lauren s, Cadwallader and Conway, Guinnett and Mclntosh, 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. XXXI. FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY AND CELEBRATION OF THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE REPUBLIC. 1826. Sudden and Simultaneous Death of Ex-Presidents John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, its Two Most Illustrious Founders The Day of Resounding Joy and Jubilee Changed to One of Profound National Sorrow. Xo Historical Parallel to Such a Remarkable Coincidence. World-Renowned Career of these Statesmen. Extraordinary Preparations for the Day. Adams and Jefferson then Alive Sires and Patriarchs of the Nation Their Names Household Words. Invited to Share in the Festivities They Hail the Glorious Morn Great Rejoicings, Death s Summons. Jefferson s Distinguishing Honor. Adams s Patriotic Luster Their Imperishable Deeds Calm yet Hiyh Enthusiasm Hostile Leaders in After-Life Uacy and Piquant Anecdote. Crisis Point in Adams s Fortunes His Last Toast for His Country, " Independence Forever." Two Sages in Old Age Serenity, Wisdom, Dignity. Former Friendship Revived. Letters of Mutual Attachment. Euro pean Admiration Excited. Reverence to their Colossal Fame. " Such pan away: hut they leave All hope, or love, or truth, or LIBEKTT, Wiioae forms thir mighty spirits could conceive, To be a rule and law to u. tn that survive." OYOUS, painful, by sudden and strange transition, to the Ameri- : , can people, was the Fourtli of July, 1826, the anniversary of the first half-century of their national existence, and, as it proved, the day on which the two chief founders of the republic passed, simultaneously, from the scenes of their earthly career to the repose and the rewards of another world; one of the most remarkable coincidences that has ever occurred in the history of nations. It was the half-centennial Jubilee of American Independence, and preparations had been made in every part of the Union to celebrate the august day with extraordinary demonstrations and observances. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, two illustrious sages, whose names and lives were pre eminently identified with the formation of the government, and, for so many years, with its history and administration, so much so as to have become household names everywhere, in the nation, were, on this most memorable day, amid the rejoicings of the people, the peals of artillery, the strains of music, the exultations of a great nation in the enjoyment of freedom, peace, and happiness, released from the toils of life. In the personal and public career of these two great patriots, there were many points of similarit} . In the enumeration of these similarities by Mr. Webster, their eloquent eulogist, it appears that they belonged to the same profession, both being learned and able lawyers. They were natives and inhabitants, respectively, of those two of the colonies, Massachusetts and Virginia, which, at the time of the 292 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. revolution, were the largest and most pow erful, and which naturally had a lead in the political affairs of the times. When the colonies became in some degree united, by the assembling of a general congress, they were brought, at an early period, to act together in its deliberations. Each had already manifested his attachment to the cause of the country, as well as his ability to maintain it, by printed addresses, public speeches, extensive correspondence, and whatever other mode could be adopted for the purpose of exposing the encroach ments of the British parliament, and ani mating the people to a manly resistance. Both were not only decided, but early, friends of independence. While others yet doubted, they were resolved; where others hesitated, they pressed forward. They were both members of the committee for preparing the Declaration of Independ ence, and they constituted the sub-com mittee appointed by the other members to versary of American liberty in the very midst of the festivities which commem orated the nation s half-centennial jubilee ! Wherever the tidings of their decease could be flashed, on that eventful day, the voices of festivity and mirth were changed to those of wonder and mourning. Jefferson s imperishable renown consists in his having penned the Declaration of Independence, rather than in the fact of his having filled the highest offices, state and national, culminating with that of president of the republic. On the other hand, to have been fore most among those who foresaw and broke the way for the birth of a new nation ; to have been the mover of numerous decisive acts, the undoubted precursors of the great consummation ; to have been among the many and towering spirits then engaged in defying the mightiest throne in Chris tendom, by acknowledgment unsurpassed in zeal, and unequaled in ability ; to have THE JEFFERSON MANSION AT MONTICELLO. make the draft. Jefferson was the author of that noblest production of statesman ship ; Adams was its chief parliamentary expositor and triumphant advocate in the assembly of the mighty. They left their seats in congress, being called to other public employment, at periods not remote from each other. Both became public ministers abroad, both vice-presidents, and both presidents. All these remarkable parallels and coincidences were at last most singularly crowned and completed : They died together and they died on the anni- been exclusively associated with the au thor of the Declaration ; and then, with a fervid and overwhelming eloquence, to have taken the lead in inspiring the con gress unanimously to adopt and proclaim it, this is the glory of John Adams. Mr. Adams commenced the practice of the law in his native town of Quincy. At the age of twenty-eight, he was married to Abigail Smith, a country clergyman s daughter, and an excellent woman with whom he lived in wedlock more than fifty years. At the age of thirty, he published GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. a dissertation on Canon and Feudal Law, in which he explained the Puritan princi ples of religion and government, and brought them to bear upon the disputes between Great Britain and the colonies. In 176G, lie removed to Boston. His profes sional standing was now so high, that, in 1768, Governor Bernard offered him the post of advocate-general of the court of admiralty. But Mr. Adams had ranked himself decisively with the friends of the people ; and had he accepted a lucrative office under the crown, although no condi tions were annexed, his course would not have been the same as heretofore. In truth, the offer must have been intended quite as much to silence his political oppo sition, as to secure his legal services. He therefore declined it, but gave a noble evidence, not long afterwards, that no base subserviency to the people, any more than to the government, could make him swerve from his own ideas of right. This truth was shown in 1770, by his conduct in ref erence to the Boston massacre, as the following account will show. The scene of bloodshed in King street, Boston, was a natural consequence of the relative positions of the soldiery and the people. No good feeling could possibly exist between them. On the part of the troops, the haughty consciousness that Britain had made them keepers of the province, together with a sense of the odium in which they were held, produced a contemptuous antipathy towards the colonists. At the sight of their own blood, shed by a hireling soldiery, the ferment of the people became terrible, and was shared, for a time, by the calmest patriots in New England. A multitude, computed at ten or twelve thousand, assembled at Faneuil Hall, and adjourned thence to the Old South Church. There went a rumor, that the tragedy in King street had been pre meditated, and was but the prelude to a general massacre. For defense against this exaggerated, } T et not altogether shad ow} danger, a military guard was enrolled, and the town put itself under martial law. No British officer or soldier could have walked the streets with safety to his life. Such was the state of affairs, when John Adams, himself the foremost patriot of all, and a member of the people s military guard, was solicited to undertake the defense of Captain Preston, and the sol diers who had fired the fatal volley, against the charge of murder. It was a singular compliment to his integrity, that the imprisoned soldiers should have sought the aid of a man so situated. It does not appear that the confidence of Mr. Adams s countrymen in him was shaken by this act of personal and profes sional independence; or, if so, it was only for the moment. In 1773, he was chosen a member of the provincial council, but was rejected by the tory Governor Hutch- inson, and afterwards by General Gage. In the year 1775, John Adams, as a delegate in congress, nominated George Washington to the post of commander-in- chief of the American armies. The glory of originating this choice appears to be long principally to Mr. Adams, and, did he need a secondary reputation, this would have been claim enough to his country s gratitude. The service cannot be too highly estimated. Washington s character was of such a nature, that, if some sagacious individual had not pointed him out, he probably would not have been the foremost figure in the public eye. Had the selection fallen upon another, no one can conjecture what would have been the result. As already stated, Mr. Adams was one of the committee to draft the Declaration of Independence ; and the calm, yet high enthusiasm of the letter in which he announced that event to a friend, and prophesied that its anniversary would become a national festival, must be famil iar to every American. He had a share in all the weightiest business of congress, and bore the burden of much that was less important, being a member of no less than ninety committees, and chairman of twen ty-five. In 1777, he was appointed com missioner to France, to supersede Deane, 294 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. who was the colleague there of Benjamin Franklin and Arthur Lee ; returning home iu 1779, he was again sent out, in the autumn of that year, with powers to con clude a treaty of peace and commerce. In 1785, the distinguished honor fell to him of heing appointed the first minister from the United States to the court of St. James; and, in this capacity, was duly presented to his long-time political enemy, King George the Third. In 1788, he returned home. He subsequently assisted in forming the constitution of his native state. During the eight years presidency of Washington, Mr. Adams was vice-pres ident, and, when the former retired from office, Mr. Adams, after a hard political contest with Jefferson and Thomas Pinck- ney, became president of the United States. At the end, however, of the first four years, Mr. Jefferson came in by a tri umphant majority, and President Adams retired to domestic life. This was in 1801, when he had reached the age of sixty-six. His long course of public services was now ended. At the period of his retire ment, he did not enjoy the unreserved and cordial approbation of any party. Some of his measures had gone far towards alien ating the federalists by whom he had been chosen president, and he had bitter ene mies. Being a man of warm passions, Mr. Adams was not slow to resent, nor cautious to hide his resentment. He once observed, pointing to his own portrait, " That fellow could never keep his mouth shut ! " But he was always frank, and inflexibly honest, as is most plainly shown by the incidents given in his biography, written by Hon. Charles Francis Adams. As showing from what accidental cir cumstances often spring the most import ant changes in the lives and fortunes of men, the following anecdote is well worth} of a place in this narrative: When I was a boy/ says John Adams, I had to study the Latin grammar, but it was dull, and I hated it. My father was anxious to send me to college, and therefore I studied the grammar till I could bear with it no longer, and, going to my father, I told him I did not like study, and asked for some other employment. It was opposing his wishes, and he was quick in his answer. Well, John, said he, if Latin gram mar does not suit you, you may try ditching; perhaps that will. My meadow yonder needs a ditch, and you may put by Latin and try that. This seemed a delightful change, and to the meadow I went. But I soon found - ; ditching harder than Latin, and the first . : forenoon was the longest I ever expe rienced. That day I ate the bread of labor, and glad was I when night came on. That night I made some compar ison between Latin grammar and ditch ing, but said not a word about it. I dug the next forenoon, and wanted to return to Latin at dinner ; but it was humiliating, and I could not do it. At night, toil conquered pride, and I told my father one of the severest trials of my life that, if he chose, I would go back to Latin grammar. He was glad of it; and if I have since gained any distinction, it has been owing to the two days labor in that abominable ditch. Declining farther and farther into the vale of years, and now long removed from the dust of contending parties, the hoary sage drew towards his sepulchre. For GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 295 several days before the fourth of July on which he expired, he had been fast failing, though, in reply to an invitation to partici pate in the celebration of that day, he wrote a patriotic note, full of the fire of his best days. Being desired to furnish a toast for the occasion, he gave INDE PENDENCE FOREVER! He was asked if anything should be added to it. He imme diately replied, "Not a word/" This toast was drank at the celebration in Quincy, about fifty minutes before the departure of the venerated statesman from earth. On the morning of the fourth, which was ushered in by the ringing of bells and firing of cannon, he was asked if he knew what day it was ? " yes," he replied, "it is the glorious fourth of July God bless it ! God bless you all ! " In the course of the day he said, " It is a great and glorious day." The last words he uttered were, "Jefferson survives!" But the spirit of Jefferson had already left the body. Among Adams s pall bearers, were President Kirkland, Judge Story, Judge Davis, and Lieutenant Governor Winthrop. Mr. Jefferson, the illustrious compeer of Adams, was born in Albemarle county, Virginia, in 1743, and was entered a stu dent in the college of William and Mary. On leaving this seminar} , he applied him self to the study of the law, under the tuition of the celebrated George Wythe, and was called to the bar in 1766. He soon occupied a high stand in his profes sion, and, at the early age of twenty-five, entered the house of burgesses of his native state. In 1774, he published a Summary View of the Rights of British America, a bold but respectful pamphlet addressed to the king. In 1775, he was elected a member of the continental con gress, and in the following year drew up the Declaration of Independence, the most remarkable document that has ever, in the ages of the world, proceeded from an uninspired pen. Of the committee appointed to draft the momentous Declaration, Jefferson, though the youngest, was unanimously made chairman, his colleagues being John Adams of Massachusetts, Benjamin Frank lin of Pennsylvania, Roger Sherman of Connecticut, and Robert R. Livingston of New York. Jefferson s draft was taken up, in committee of the whole, on the first of July, the chair being filled by Benjamin Harrison, father of William Henry Har rison, president of the United States in 1840. The great manifesto was debated, and, after some slight modifications, was agreed to in the course of a three days session. No record of that thrilling debate has come down ; only some fragmentary reminiscences of the participants of the drama. Edward Rutledge, of South Caro lina, is said to have exclaimed, "I should advise persisting in our struggle for liberty and independence, though it were revealed from Heaven that nine hundred and ninety- nine were to perish, and only one of a thousand were to survive and retain his liberty." The Declaration was adopted, by a unanimous vote, a little past noon, on the fourth of July. "Now, gentlemen," said the quaint Dr. Franklin to his col leagues, " we must all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately." Though what may be termed bitter political rivals for a long period, leading, respectively, the two great opposing par ties, time s mellowing influence changed all this, and the two patriarchal statesmen and ex-presidents cultivated a mutually warm and generous friendship in their old age. In a letter written by Jefferson to Adams, in June, 1822, he says: " It is very long, my dear sir, since I have written to you. My dislocated wrist is now become so stiff, that I write slowly, and with pain; and therefore write as little as I can. Yet it is due to mutual friendship, to ask once in a while how we do ? I have ever dreaded a doting old age ; and my health has been generally so good, and is now so good, that I dread it still. The rapid decline of my strength during the last winter, has made me hope, sometimes, that I see land. During summer, I enjoy its temperature, but I shudder at the approach of winter, and 296 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. wish I could sleep through it, with the dormouse, and only wake with him in spring, if ever. They say that Starke could walk about his room. I am told you walk well and firmly. I can only reach my garden, and that with sensible fatigue. I ride, however, daily; but reading is my delight. I should wish never to put pen to paper; and the more because of the Europe, where it excited much commenda tion, on account of the contrast it afforded between an old age thus dedicated to virtue, temperance, and philosophy, and the heart-sie-kening details so often per taining to the lives of those who sit upon thrones. Though he had for some time past been failing in his general health, it was not THE ADAMS MANSION AT QUINCY. treacherous practice some people have, of publishing one s letters without leave;" etc., etc. In his reply to the pleasant and cordial letter, from which the above few sentences are extracted as specimens, Mr. Adams says, among other friendly and felicitous expressions : " Half an hour ago I received, and this moment have heard read, for the third or fourth time, the best letter that ever was written by an octogenarian, dated June 1st. My sight is very dim, hearing pretty good, memory poor enough. In wishing for your health and happiness, I am very selfish; for I hope for more letters. This is worth more than five hundred dollars to me ; for it has already given me, and will continue to give me, more pleasure than a thousand ; " etc., etc. This correspondence between the once rival presidents of the greatest republic of the world, was republished in full, in until the first of July that Mr. Jefferson was confined to his bed. On the third, iie continued to sink. Near the middle of the night he asked the hour; and on being told that it was near one o clock, he expressed his joy. He expressed an earn est desire that he might live to behold the light of the next day the fiftieth anni versary of the independence of his coun try. His prayer was answered. At fifty minutes past meridian, July fourth, 1826, Thomas Jefferson ceased to breathe. Thus, these two most illustrious fathers of the republic, associates, rivals, friends, took their flight together to the other world, on the most memorable day since the birth of the nation, and all classes and parties, forgetting the animosities of the past, united in paying their common trib ute of reverence to the magnificent fame of Adams and Jefferson. In the words of Webster, their great eulogist, "TIIEIK NAME LIVETH EVERMORE!" XXXII. THE "GREAT DEBATE" BETWEEN WEBSTER AND IIAYNE, 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 ot American Oratory. Unprecedented 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. Havre 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 Kange 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 abl gt *neehc<i of the RTPntt lirinj oratom on both Miles of the water, but I must confess I never heard anything which o completely realized my conception of what Demosthenes wua when he delivered the Orutiou for the Crown." EUWAKD i.VEKKTT OS WEBSTER S SI EECH. I 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 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, THE VICTOR S WREATH. 298 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. the memorials of the occasion furnished by Mr. March, and, subsequently, by Mr. Laiumui, 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. Haync 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. llayne made his attack sudden, unexpected, and certainly unexampled, on Mr. W 7 ebster 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 which he was a leading counsel. For this reason, lie 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 for 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 Avar of 1812, and, indeed, prior and subsequent to that period, were accumulated upon him. Thus it was, that Mr. Haync 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. Ilayne 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 299 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 cit} r , an occasion of so much excitement. To witness this great intellectual contest, multitudes of strangers had for two or ROBERT T. 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 back. The floor of the senate was so 300 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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, and 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 on 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 301 be able to form some conjecture where we now are. I ask for tlie 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, every 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 DANIEL WEBSTER. 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 opponents were fully satisfied of their error before he had proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon took another direction. AVhen 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 lie 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 forth 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, 302 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. and 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 his 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 felt 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 liair; it was as dark as the raven s plumage, surmounting his massive brow in ample lolds. 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 303 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 FOR EVER, 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 304 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. WEBSTER S REPLY TO HAYXE. breath, with which the overcharged heart seeks 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, GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 305 " 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. 20 XXXIII. 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 First 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 niece of scripture Tell thpin.-that God bids us do P <KK| for eril. And thus I clothe my naked villninv With old odd ende, tol n forth of Holy "Writ, And seem a saint, when most I play the devil." F 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 llobert Southey, the great English poet and historian, in 1829, and which ran as follows : t( The next Aaron Burr who seeks to carve a kingdom for himself out of the overgrown territories of . 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 307 Joseph Smith, the Mohammed of the West, founder of the sect called Mor mons, or Latter-Day Saints, was horn 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, dishonesty, and other immoralities. Joseph was especially obnoxious in these respects ; and, having never received any education, he could scarcely 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), which 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 308 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Anthou, 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 in 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 ot the ten tribes ; that Zion will be estab- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 309 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, N. Y. 310 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 the} 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 311 missionary tour toward the east. Young was so devoted a disciple of Mormonism, that he 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 OH 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- \veen 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 1842-34, 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 312 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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! 1 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 Itigdon, who claimed the office, hut who was forthwith cut off, and delivered over to the bufferings 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 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 to 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 Fillmore, 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, " I am, and will be, -governor, and no power on earth can hinder it, until the Lord Almighty says, Brig haw, you need not lie 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 and 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,. GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 313 SALT LAKE CITY, THE JIOKMON ZIOX. 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 starchless 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. XXXIV. 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 His Ill-Starred Life. ** Lending a pirate * crew. O er the dark tea I flew. Wild was the life we led. Many the souls that sped. Many the hearts that bled, By Our uteri) orders." APPKAL OF A OIRL TO GIBBS TO SPARE HER LIKK. OTWITHSTANDING 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 315 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 Vineyard 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 Browii- 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, Wansley, 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. 316 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, tit ere was revealed the bloody annals of Gibbs s ill-starred career. PIUATE 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 of 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 317 to Havana, which was taken and carried to Cape Antonio. The crew were imme diately destroyed ; those ivho resisted were hacked to pieces ; those who offered no resistance were reserved to be shot and thrown overboard. The maxim to which they scrupulously adhered, was, that dead men tell no tales." 1 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 few 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 ! Ou 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 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, ivho, 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- 318 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. GIBBS BUTCHERING 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 in 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 319 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 Avith 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 Ay res. 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. XXXV. NULLIFICATION OUTBREAK IN SOUTH CAROLINA, UNDER THE LEAD OF CALHOUN, M.cDUFFIE, HAYNE, AND OTHERS. 1832. State Sovereignty, Instead of the Federal Government, Claimed by them to be Supreme. The Wrath of President Jackson Aroused. His Stern and Heroic Will Upholds the National Authority and Saves the Union from Anarchy and from the Perils of Dismemberment. Momentous Nature of this Contest. The Tariff a Rock of Offense. Action in the " Palmetto " State. Anti-National and Defiant. Pacific Proposals Scouted. A Political Dinner in Washington. Jackson s and Cal- houn s Toasts. Plan of the Conspirators. A Bomb-shell in Their Camp. Convention of Agitators in Columbia. Nullification Ordinance Passed. " Old Hickory " Bold and Resolute. His Peremp tory Proclamation. South Carolina s Counter-Blast. United States Troops Sent to Charleston. Presidential Idea of Compromising. Clay s Conciliation Scheme. The Leading Nullifiers in Danger. Jackson Threatens to Hang Them. They are Roused from Bed at Midnight. Two Alternatives Presented. Swallowing a Bitter Pill. " Thou too, tail on, O ship of State,- Bail on, O UNION. Ktronc and great; Humanity, with all its fears. With all its hope* of future yean, Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! " ITTER and momentous was the political contest which shook the Union to its very center in 1832, the year in which culminated, in all its violence, the South Carolina doctrine of State Rights and Nullifi cation. In a general, preliminary way, the nature or origin of this great sectional conflict presents itself thus : A powerful party in South Carolina, led on by able and ambitious politicians, contended that con gress had jio power to impose taxes for protecting home industry or manufactures, but solely for pur poses of revenue, sufficient to defray the expenses of the government; that each state had a right to judge whether congress, in its legislation, exceeded its powers, and in that case to disobey it, treat it as of no binding They therefore declared the tariff which passed into operation at the close of the session of 1832, to be null and void ; making it unlawful for any of the constituted authorities to enforce it; and disallowing all appeal to the supreme court. Any act which might be passed by congress to coerce them into obedience, they would consider as dissolving them from the obligation to maintain the Union, and they would proceed to organize a separate government. These views were supported by their legislature, and vehemently advocated by Calhoun and McDuffie at Washington, two of the most celebrated leaders in public affairs, who have ever appeared in American history. Their scheme, however, of defying the national government, on GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 321 the assumption of the sovereignty of the states as principals, and the subordination of the federal government as a mere agency, found a mortal enemy in Andrew Jackson, who, at the very time chosen by the sectionalists, or milliners, to put their doctrine into practice, was chief magistrate of the nation. But, though the climax of these anti- national proceedings was not reached until this period, the great leaders had for years been sowing the seeds of contempt for federal authority and the constitution and Union from which that authority was de rived, and, in doing this, even went so far as to claim that the fathers of the republic, especially Mr. Jefferson, held and taught the same principle. Of these tactics, Mr. Benton gives a notable example, in his account of the anniversary of Mr. Jeffer son s birthday, April thirteenth, 1830, celebrated by a numerous company, that year, in the city of Washington ; Mr. Benton s account agreeing, in every ma terial point, with that furnished by other pens, as follows : It was the birthday of Thomas Jeffer son, and those who attended the party did so avowedly for the purpose of honoring the memory of the author of the Declar ation of Independence. Such at least was the tenor of the invitation. Andrew Jack son, the president of the United States, was there. So was John C. Calhoun, the vice-president. Three of the cabinet min isters, namely, Van Buren, Eaton, and Branch, were there ; and members of con gress and citizens not a few. It soon became manifest to the more sagacious ones, that this dinner party and the day were to be made the occasion for inaugurating the new doctrine of nullifi cation, and to fix the paternity of it on Mr. Jefferson, the great apostle of democ racy in America. Many gentlemen pres ent, perceiving the drift of the whole per formance, withdrew in disgust before sum moned to the table ; but the sturdy old president, perfectly informed, remained. When the dinner was over and the cloth removed, a call was made for the regular 21 toasts. These were twenty-four in num ber, eighteen of which, it is alleged, were written by Mr. Calhoun. These, in multi farious forms, shadowed forth, now dimly, now clearly, the new doctrine. They were all received and honored in various degrees, when volunteer toasts were an nounced as in order. The president of the United States was of course first called upon for a sentiment. His tall form rose majestically, and with that sternness appropriate to the peculiar occasion, he cast that apalling bomb-shell of words into the camp of the conspira tors, which will forever be a theme for the commendation of the patriot and the historian "THE FEDERAL UNIOX: IT MUST BE PKESEUVED ! " He was fol lowed by the vice-president, Mr. Calhoun, who gave as his sentiment " The Union : next to our Liberty the most dear ; may we all remember that it can only be pre served by respecting the rights of the States, and distributing equally the benefit and burden of the Union ! " Those who before doubted the intentions of Calhoun and his southern friends, and were at a loss to understand the exact meaning of the dinner party, were r.c longer embar rassed by ignorance. In that toast was presented the issue liberty before union supreme state sovereignty false com plaints of inequality of benefits and bur dens our rights as we choose to define them, or disunion. From that hour, there fore, the vigilant old president watched the South Carolina conspirator, his lieutenant, with the searching eyes of unslumbering suspicion. But the opposition of South Carolina to a protective tariff dated farther back than this. In 1820, and again in 1825, the legislature of that state protested against all such congressional measures, and in 1827 instructed her representatives at AVashington to maintain these views, to the fullest extent, on the floor of con gress. The next year, she entered a for mal protest and resolutions against any right of congress to impose protective duties on imported goods. More resolu- 322 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187G. tions, addressed to other states, followed in December, 1828, and in 1830 the state legislature most forcibly reaffirmed the doctrines to which it had previously given such emphatic expression. In fact, the people had been worked by their leaders into a temporar}* frenzy. In an exhaustive, as well as most vivid and truthful review of the events per taining to this exciting period in national affairs, a writer in the New Monthly Magazine has contributed one of the most thrilling chapters to be found in American history. From that source the following abridged narrative is derived for the most part : A prominent issue in the presidential election of 1832 was that of the protective tariff, otherwise known as the American System. South Carolina had virtually threatened to secede from the Union unless appointed. She refused to take an honest part in the presidential election, giving her votes for citizens who were not candi dates. She had resolved or rather the conspirators had resolved for her not to be pacified with anything less than federal dismemberment ! Jackson, the chosen standard-bearer of the democratic party, and to which organ ization the conspirators professedly be longed, was re-elected ; yet the malcon tents continued to defy the government, and exhibited the falsity of their profes sions of attachment to that party by im mediately, when the result of the election was known, calling a convention of the delegates of the people of South Carolina, at Columbia, their state capital, for a rebellious purpose. In that convention, composed of poli ticians, the professed representatives of OLD STATE HOUSE AT COLUMBIA. the policy of that system should be aban doned by the government. A nervous apprehension of some dire impending ca lamity appears to have taken possession of the public mind, and the congressional elections resulted unfavorably to the sys tem. Those who loved peace in the national household fondly expected now to see the smile of satisfaction on the face of South Carolina. But they were dis- the people took into their own hands violent instrumentalities for the redress of alleged grievances, which the chief con spirators had prescribed. Just a fortnight after the election, November 24, 1832, which really decided the fate of the Ameri can System, they sent forth from that convention an Ordinance of Nullification against it, its title being, " An ordinance to nullify certain acts of the Congress of GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 323 the United States, purporting to be laws laying duties and imposts on the im portation of foreign commodities." Mr. Hayne, recently senator in congress, was president of that convention, and chair man of the committee of twenty-one who reported the ordinance of nullification. A fortnight after this labor was per formed, the legislature of South Carolina, made up chiefly of Calhoun s and McDuf- fie s disciples, evinced their sympathy with Hayne s course by electing him governor of that commonwealth. The ordinance of nullification forbade all constituted authorities, state or na tional, within the boundaries of South Carolina, to enforce the payment of duties imposed by the tariff laws, and disallowed any appeal, by residents of the state, to the United States supreme court. It was also ordained that all public officers should take an oath to obey that ordinance on penalty of forfeiture of office. A military spirit everywhere prevailed. The blue cockade with the Palmetto button, was almost universally worn. Having thus bound the people of the state hand and foot, the c. inspirators de fiantly declared that they would not sub mit to coercion by the United States, and that they should consider the passage by congress of any act declaring the ports of that state abolished or closed, or in any way interfering with their commerce as " inconsistent with the longer continuance of South Carolina in the Union;" and that the people of the state would hence forth " hold themselves absolved from all further obligation to maintain or preperve their political connection with the people of the other states," and would proceed forth with to "organize a separate government, and do all other acts and things which sov ereign and independent states may of right do." The ordinance was to take effect on the first day of February ensuing after its passage. It was signed by more than one hundred leading citizens of South Carolina, and thus officially communicated to the president of the United States. The state of affairs threatened a fatal crisis. Fortunately for the country, there was a man at the head of the government whose patriotism and courage had never been found wanting. It was equal to this emergency ! South Carolina, through her unscrupu lous politicians, had been placed in the attitude of open, forcible resistance to the laws of the United States, which the president had solemnly sworn to execute. Andrew Jackson was not a man to be trifled with He quickly perceived his duty, and as quickly hastened to the per formance of it. The ordinance of nulli fication reached him on the 1st of De cember. On the tenth of the same month he issued a proclamation, kind but firm, persuasive but admonitory, in which he denounced the pernicious doctrine of state supremacy, and warned the people of South Carolina that they had been de ceived by demagogues. " Eloquent appeals to your passions, to your state pride, to your native courage, to your sense of real injury," he said, " were used to prepare you for the period when the mask, which concealed the hidden features of disunion, should be taken off. It fell, and you were made to look with complacency on objects which, not long since, you would have re garded with horror." Thus, perfectly self-poised and unterrified, he reasoned fraternally with them. In patriotic language he also appealed to the misguided people to snatch from the archives of their state the disorganizing edict of its convention; "bid its members to reassemble, and promulgate the de cided expression of your will to remain in the path which alone can conduct you to safety, prosperity, and honor. Tell them that, compared with disunion, all other evils are light, because that brings with it an accumulation of all. Declare that you will never take the field unless the star- spangled banner of }-our country shall float over you; that you will not be stig matized, when dead, and dishonored and scorned while you live, as the authors of the first attack on the constitution of your country. Its destroyers you cannot be. 324 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. You may disturb its peace ; you may in terrupt the course of its prosperity ; } ou may cloud its reputation for stability ; but its tranquillity will be restored, its pros perity will return, and the stains upon its national character will be transferred and remain an eternal blot on the memory of those who caused the disorder." No presidential document ever caused so pro found a sensation, not even that concern ing the transfer of the government de posits from the old United States bunk to various local banks, under Secretary Taney, the successor of Duane, an act which nothing less than Jackson s im mense personal popularity could survive. Meanwhile, Governor llayne had called the South Carolina legislature together, to take measures for enforcing the ordinance of nullification. They authorized the gov ernor to call out the militia of the state for the purpose, and ordered the purchase of ten thousand stand of arms, and a requisite quantity of equipments and muni tions of war. The feelings of the poli ticians of other states were consulted. Those of Virginia, Georgia, and Ala bama approved of the action of the " Pal metto State." and gave assurance that, in the event of secession, those states would join her in forming a southern confederacy. Hut North Carolina refused her assent to any such scheme. Governor Hayne, how ever, issued his counter-proclamation, de nouncing the attitude of the general government towards the state of South Carolina, and threatening to resist to the last extremity. Hayne was of the same political stripe, in his day, as Floyd, Jacob Thompson, General Quitman, and the host of lesser marplots in congress, of a later era. The time for action had now arrived, and Calhoun resigned the vice-presidency and took his seat in the senate of the United States, where he might do battle for disunion more potently. The presi dent had resolved to arrest him on his arrival at Washington, have him tried for high treason, and hung if found guilty. But the great southern chieftain walked in, slowly and deliberately, to the crowded senate, and, with reverential manner, and in a serious, solemn, and audible voice, took the oath to support the Constitution of the United States. Perhaps, at this moment, the prediction of Dr. Timothy Dwight that he, Calhoun, would one day be president of the nation, flashed across the mind of the ambitious southron. This contemplated arrest, in the then condition of public feeling in the southern states, might have been, if carried out, a most pernicious step ; one that would have kindled the flames of civil war instantly. AVebster and others persuaded Jackson not to adopt that extreme measure, but to endeavor to win back the deluded people. The proclamation already men tioned, followed; and, on the assembling of congress, President Jackson, in his annual message, called attention to the attitude of South Carolina, and asked for co-operation in suppressing the rising rebellion. He had already taken pre cautionary measures. Quite a large body of troops, under General Scott, were stealthily thrown into Fort Moultrie in Charleston harbor, and a sloop of war was sent to the same waters to protect the national officers of customs, if necessary, in the performance of their duties. Before the inhabitants of Charleston were aware that the president would re- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 325 sort to force in the maintenance of the laws, the national troops were before their faces, and the guns of Fort Moultrie were silently but admonishingly telling them to be careful not to interfere with the busi ness of the United States custom-house ! The president had declared, in substance, in his message, that his policy would be a peaceful one towards the rebellious state, so long as peaceful measures promised to be effectual ; but in the event of per sistent contumacy, he was prepared to force South Carolina into submission. This determination of the government, the presence of General Scott with a competent force, and the sloop-of-war in the harbor, caused a material abatement of rebellious zeal in the metropolis of the turbulent state, and it became evident to the leaders there that South Carolina would not be permitted to sever the bond that bound her to the Union. Her famous ordinance was not enforced; the revenues were regularly collected ; and the national laws continued to be executed without interruption. Such being the case, the conspirators in the convention, illy conceal ing their mortification after such a dis play of arrogance, resolved to postpone their intended forcible resistance until the first of February. On the very first day of the session of congress, bills for the reduction of the tariff were introduced. One reported \>y Mr. Verplanck, from the committee of ways and means, was very favorably re ceived, especially by those who wished to conciliate the radical opponents of the tariff, of the South Carolina school. But long debates followed, and February, as well as the session of congress, was draw ing to a close, when, to the astonishment of everybody, Mr. Letcher, a representa tive from Kentucky, and an ardent friend of Mr. Clay, rose in his place and moved to strike out every word of the bill except the enacting clause, and insert in lieu of it a bill introduced in the senate by Mr. Clay, which has since been called the compromise bill. It was a formal aban donment of the American system, and confessedly a measure to heal disaffection and save the Union. It proposed a gradual reduction of the tariff in the course of ten years, in such a way that all interests would be unharmed. This com promise bill ultimately passed, and the weapons of disunion were for a time foiled, as well as Calhoun s mad ambition. Of the secret history of this remarkable measure, in the passage of which Clay and Calhoun appeared to be in coalition, Mr. Benton has given a most interesting explanation, substantially as follows : The relative position of the national government and South Carolina, and of the president of the United States and Mr. Calhoun, in the winter of 1833, placed the latter in great personal peril, which his friends perceived and tried to avert. Among others consulted on the subject by them, was Letcher, of Ken tucky, Clay s warm personal friend. He knew that South Carolina must yield, on some terms, to the authority and power of the national government, and he conceived the idea of a compromise by which, in so yielding, she might preserve her dignitj*. He proposed it to Mr. Clay, who, sincerely desiring reconciliation, entertained the idea, and submitted it to Webster. The amazing intellectual plummet of the latter had fathomed the turbid waters of nullifi cation far deeper than had the brilliant Kentuckian. and he instantly answered "No! It will be yielding great prin ciples to faction. The time has come to test the strength of the constitution and the f/overnment." Mr. Webster had heartily supported the force bill reported by Mr. Wilkins from the judiciary committee. Although opposed, politically, to Jackson s administration, he had said that he believed an unlawful com bination was threatening the integrity of the Union, and that he should give the administration a frank and hearty sup port, in all just measures for dealing firmly with the crisis. He was utterly opposed to compromising and temporizing measures with a rebellious faction, and told Mr. Clay so ; and from that time he 326 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. was not approached by those who were willing to shield conspirators from the sword of justice. Mr. Clay drew up a compromise bill and sent it to Mr. Calhoun by Mr. Letrher. Calhoun objected to parts of the bill most emphatically, and remarked that if Clay knew the nature of his objections, lie would at least modify those portions of the bill. Letcher made arrangements for a personal interview between these eminent Letcher now flew to McD uffie, Calhoun s ardent friend and chief coadjutor, and alarmed him with a startling picture of the president s wrath. That night, after he had retired to bed, Letcher was aroused by a Louisiana senator, Josiah S. John son, who informed him that Jackson would not allow any more delay, and that Cal houn s arrest might take place any hour. He begged Letcher to warn Calhoun of his danger. He did so. He found the senators, who had not been on speaking terms for some time. The imperious Clay demanded that it should be at his own room. The imperiled Calhoun consented to go there. The meeting was civil, but icy. The business was immediately en tered upon. The principals were unyield ing, and the conference ended without results. Letcher now hastened to the president, and sounded him on compro mising. " Compromise ! " said the stern old man, " I will make no compromise with traitors. 1 will have no negotiations. I will execute the laws. Calhoun shall be tried for treason, and hanged if found guilty, if he does not instantly cease his rebellious course." South Carolinian in bed. He told him of the temper and intentions of the president, and the conspirator was much alarmed. Meanwhile, Mr. Clay and J. M. Claj r - ton of Delaware had been in frequent consultations on the subject. Clayton had said to Clay, while his bill was linger ing in the house, "These South Caro linians act very badly, but they are good fellows, and it is a pity to let Jackson hang them ; " and advised him to get his bill referred to a new committee, and so modify it as to make it acceptable to a majority. Clay did so, and Clayton ex erted all his influence to avert the ca lamity which hung over Calhoun and his friends. He assembled the manufacturers who had hurried to the capital when they GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 327 had heard of the compromise bill, to see whether they would not yield something, for the sake of conciliation and the Union. At a sacrifice of their interests, these loyal men did yield, and agreed to with draw all opposition to the bill, and let it pass the senate, providing all the milliners should vote for certain amendments made by the lower house, as well as the bill itself. The nullifiers in committee would not yield. The crisis had arrived. The gallows was placed before Calhoun s eyes. Clayton earnestly remonstrated with him. He pointed out the danger, the folly, the wickedness of his course ; and notified him that unless the amendments were adopted, and that by the votes of himself and political friends, the bill should not pass ; that he, Clayton, would move to lay it on the table when it should be reported to the senate, and he had strength enough there pledged to do it. " The president will then," he said, "be left free to ex ecute the laws in full rigor." His object, he told them plainly, was to put them squarely on the record ; to make all the nullifiers vote for the amendments and the bill, and thus cut them off from the plea of " unconstitutionally," which they would raise if the bill and amendments did not receive their votes. Unless they were so bound, he knew that the present pacifica tion would be only a hollow truce, and that they would make this very measure, probably, a pretense for renewing their resistance to what they were pleased to call " unconstitutional measures " of the national government, and for resuming their march toward secession and inde pendence. He was peremptory with both Clay and Calhoun, and warned them that this was the last chance for compromise. Mr. Clayton was inexorable. Clay and Calhoun agreed to the amendments. These with the bill were reported to the senate. All the nullifiers voted for the amendments in order, until they came to the last, that of home valuation, which was so revolting to the great leader of the conspirators. When that came up, Calhoun and his friends met it with the most violent op position. It was the last day but one of the session, and a late hour in the day. Finding the nullifiers persistent in their opposition, Clayton, to their great con sternation, suddenly executed his threat. He moved to lay the bill on the table, and declared it should continue to lie there. Mr. Clay begged him to withdraw his motion. Others entreated him to give a little more time. He was inflexible. There was fluttering in the bevy of nulli fiers. Calhoun and his friends retired behind the colonnade back of the presi ding officer s chair, and there held a brief consultation. It was very brief, for time and opportunity were precious. Sena tor Bibb came from the trembling con clave and asked Clayton to give a little more time. This was a token of yielding, and he complied. He withdrew his motion, but with the declaration that unless the measure, in full, was voted for by all the nullifiers, he should renew it. Instantly one of their friends moved an adjournment, and it was carried. A little time brought them to the conclusion to vote as Mr. Claj ton demanded, but begged that gentleman to spare Mr. Calhoun the mortification of appearing on the record in favor of a measure against which, at that very time, and at his instance, troops were being raised in South Carolina, and because of which the politicians of that state were preparing to declare her seces sion from the Union ! Mr. Clayton would not yield a jot. Calhoun was the chief of sinners in this matter, and he, of all others, must give the world public and recorded evidence of penitence, whatever his "mental reservations" might be. "Nothing would be secured," Mr. Clayton said, " unless his vote appears in favor of the measure." The senate met ; the bill was taken up ; and the nullifiers and their friends, one after another, yielded their objections on various pretenses. At length, when all had voted but Mr. Calhoun, he arose, pale and haggard, for he had had a most ter rible struggle. He declared that he had then to determine which way he should 328 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. vote, and at the termination of his brief remarks he gave his voice in the affirma tive with the rest. It was a bitter pill for that proud man to swallow. The alterna tive presented to him was absolute humilia tion or the gallows. He chose the former. With that act fell the great conspiracy to break up the government of the United States in 1832. The violent clamors raised in South Carolina and the Gulf States on the appearance of Jackson s proclamation soon ceased, and the ordi nance of nullification was repealed. To Jackson s heroic will and unfaltering purpose was the result due. Thus, when the nullification frenzy was at its height, the Uuiou men in Charleston sent a deputation to Washington, to inform the president that they were daily threatened with an outbreak, and did not consider their lives safe. Scarcely waiting to hear the words uttered, the general sprung to his feet, and with a voice and a look of almost superhuman energy, exclaimed "The lives of Union men not safe, while Andrew Jackson is president! Go back to Charleston, and tell the nullifiers that if a hair on the head of a Union man is harmed, that moment I order General Coffee to march on Carolina with fifty thousand Tennessee volunteers, and if that does not settle the business, tell them by the Eternal! that I will take the field myself, with fifty thousand more ! " XXXVI. 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-Bails. 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 the Earth. Half a Continent in Presumed Jeopardy. " the unnznini- flood Rolled a broad ulnughter O er the pliiina of heaven. And nature s self did net in to toiler on the brink of time." F*^ XTKXSTVE 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- METEOKIC SHOWER AT BOSTON. 330 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177<>-1876. 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 heaveu 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 fort// 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 fieri/ torrents over the dark and roarincj 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 331 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 velocit3 r , 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 inches JIKTKOR1C SlIOWKlt AS KKEX AT XIAUAKA 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. The} 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 332 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. light. At Charleston, S. C., a meteor of extraordinary size was seen to course the heavens lor 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 imaginary. A remarkable change of weather, from warm to cold, accompanied the meteoric shower, or immediate!} 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 tlie 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 earth, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 333 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 difficult to say precisely ho\v 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 nebu^us 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 is 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. 334 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 the earth, because it remained so long stationary with respect to the earth at least two hours, a period suffi cient to have carried it nearly round the earth in a circular orbit. Nor can it be supposed that the earth, in its annual progress, came into the vicin ity of a nebula, which was either station ary, or wandering lawless through spare. 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 its GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 335 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 be 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 theoiy, 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 lattqr 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" might, 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, 336 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 tho e already mentioned, three hundred and thirteen. This number, however, was not one-fifth of that which really fell, as 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 cf 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, 3 - et 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 thirt3 -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 ! XXXVII. 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 ia Restrained from Executing Summary Vengeance only by His Friends. Political Hostility Supposed, at First, to Have Instigated the Act. Lawrence Proves to he 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. Is with Difficulty Kept Back. Lawrence Stunned and Secured. His Perfect Calmness Through All. The Crowd Wish to Kill Him. Fine Appearance of the Assassin Krank Avowal of His Motives. Insane Idea Possessing Him. Claims to be a King. Is Confined in a Madhouse. " Let me ero. centlemen I I am not afraid they CAN T kill me I can protect myself ! "JACKSON S EXCLAMATION WREN Rusmxo Upon TUB ASSASSIN. 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 country, 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 the day above-named, while President Jackson was in the capitol, in attendance on the funeral of the Hon. Warren R. 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 of 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 22 338 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 tired. On the instant, the assassin dropped the pistol from his right hand, and taking another read} 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, I am not afraid they can t kill me / 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 among 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 stny 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 339 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 ! ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JACKSON. 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, It was ascertained that, some time pre vious, Lawrence had formed an attachment to a young lad} r , 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 340 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 fonr 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." GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 341 " 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 e} r es 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 hi-s 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 attorne} , 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, as I have, the sword ." He was again stopped. His counsel once more, but still without success, appealed to the bench, RICHARD LAWREXCE. 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 342 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. 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 tr} ing 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 343 " What I have 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 of 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; ne 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 in 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 np 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, ol 344 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, ril 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 JSewell, 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 guilt} , 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, where he remained an inmate thirty or forty years. XXXVIII. 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, Mesiowed Upon Him by Crowned Heads Casual Origin of the 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 Transtnissive. 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 up the Wires to Baltimore. First Message Through. "Thatiteed called Lightning (ay the Fate*) Is owned in the United States: Twos Franklin s hand that caupht the horte; Twa harneued by Protestor Alone." INGS and courts, presidents and cabinets, 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 g .;? _/* jgf> study and ingenious experiment, a practical application of the great /~yi 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 gen tie- 346 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. man on board had been describing some experiments made in Paris with the electro-magnet, 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 ke} r , 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 347 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, the} 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 348 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 time 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 moct 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 theor} , 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. This being merely a resolution of inquiry, it passed without opposition, and, out 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 349 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 it, 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 found crowded with representatives and strangers. Governor Wallace requested permission to put a question to the " mad man " (Morse) at the other end of the wire. 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 question, 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 350 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 lady 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. " 1 have come to congratulate yon," 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, ile 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, 18-44, 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 WKOUGHT ! " 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 net-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 GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 351 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 and 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 ernperor 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 less, 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 352 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. young man to 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 yone 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 direction. Not long after, however, the dial was again agitated, and then "s dam" was added; making the very quiet piece of news, " The King of Prussia has gone to Pots 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. XXXIX. TREMENDOUS FIRE IN NEW YORK CITY. 1835. Its Destructiveness Unparalleled, up to this Period, in the Western World. Resistless Devastation for Sixteen Hours in Midwinter. A Pall of Ruin and Desolation Over the Richest Business Locality in America. Nearly Seven Hundred Warehouses, Filled with Costly Merchandise, and the Com merce of Every Clime, Laid in Ashes. Loss Upwards of Eighteen Millions. Peculiar Seat of this Fire. The Money Center of America. Breaking Out in the Evening Fury of the North Wind The Flames Spread Violently. Bitter and Intense Cold. Freezing of the Engine- Water. All the Elements Hostile. Human Endeavors Powerless Acres on Fire at Midnight. Sweeps from Point to Point. Mingled Horror and Sublimity. Efforts to Save the Exchange. Fate of that Splendid Pile. Fall of its Magnificent Dome. Numberless Reverses of Fortune Rich Men Made Penni less. A Singular Exception. Swarms of Bold Robbers. Military Protection Required. Discovery of a Diabolical Crime. Supposed Cause of the Fire. " Only the horron of the ert fire of London in 1COB. and of Moscow in 1812, can be laid to riral those of the night of December 16. 1*33, in the commercial metropolis of Americ*." llisrour or titw YORK. [ODERN history affords but few instances of more awful desolation by fire, than that which so suddenly visited the city of New York, on the sixteenth and seventeenth of December, 1835. Indeed, there are not many examples of any calamities affecting property and business interests, showing greater destruction or involving consequences more distressing. The consuming of nearly seven hundred spacious storehouses of the first class, filled with the most valuable goods of all kinds and from all countries, covering about twenty acres of land, and giving emplo}uiient in various connections to several thousand persons, was an unprecedented event, in the roll of national disasters. It was not, however, upon the individuals directly employed, nor upon the owners or occupants of the buildings consumed, nor even upon the merchants, that the chief burden of this appalling calamity fell ; but it was the thousands of widows and orphans who were dependent upon the dividends of their little stock in the insur ance companies for their daily bread, who were most afflicted by this unpitying devas tation ; and next to them, the artisan and manufacturer, in almost every district of the United States, however remote, was irretrievably involved. Indeed, every species of business and every ramification of trade, throughout the Union, was seriously affected. It was the fountain-head that had been so dreadfully ravaged, and the whole nation felt the shock. Other fires there have been, most disastrous in their extent, at Savannah, San Francisco, Sacramento, Pittsburg, Portland, Albany, St. Louis, Charleston, etc., but this is conceded to have been, up to that time, the most fearfully memorable, of the century, and, therefore, appropriately narrated in this volume. For terrible 23 354 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. destruction of life, also, numbering some seventy victims, including Hon. George W. Smith, governor of the state, the burning of the theater in Richmond, Va., December 24, 1811, will forever be remem bered. At nine o clock, on the night of Wednes day, December sixteenth, smoke and flames were seen to issue from a five-story build ing in Merchant street, formerly Hanover street, in the vicinity of the Merchants Exchange, and in precisely that locality of the metropolis which was crowded with the most costly treasures of foreign and domestic production. The weather had been unusually severe for several days ; but on the night in question, the cold had increased to an intensity almost without precedent, the thermometer standing be low zero, with fierce north winds, amount ing nearly to a gale. It was an awful night for New York and the country. The flames soon leaped forth in fury through every aperture, and seized on the adjoining buildings for their im mediate prey, and, spreading from this point, the raging element in a short time obtained a tremendous advantage in the most compactly and loftily built portion of the city, filled with silks, cloths, liquors, oils, chemicals, and other combustibles, and intersected only by narrow streets which could interpose no barrier to the progress of the flames. Owing to the unparalleled severity of the weather, and to the fact that there had been so many alarms within the week, requiring so large an amount of harassing service of the fire department, the latter did not rally with its accustomed alacrity. It was soon found, too, that the effort put forth to check the power of the conflagra tion in that quarter to which the wind was so vehemently urging it, was utterly una vailing. The water so plenteously thrown upon it by hydrants and engines, was blown back in the faces, and fell con gealed at the feet of the brave firemen, or seemed only to add to the fury and force of the destroyer, which rapidly embraced the great range of houses on the opposite side, until the whole triangular block, formed by Wall, William, and iVarl streets, became one lofty altar of waving fires. From this point, taking the direc tion of Wall street below Pearl, on the one hand, and Pearl street below Wall, on the other, the flames rolled on, mocking all human endeavors to restrain them. Advancing thus in two grand divisions, the conflagration, as contrasted with the red masses of buildings which they alter nately illuminated with glaring brightness and wrapped in huge volumes of smoke, conveyed to the beholder the idea of some fabulous monster of destruction, waving its wings over its helpless and devoted prey. The extraordinary strength of the Wall street buildings many of them resisting firmly the assaults of the destroyer, and none of the walls crumbling and falling into the street, as is so generally the case did more for the security of those north of the street, than anything within the power of human effort. Onward, how ever, still onward, continued the resistless sweep of destruction, involving some of the most massive blocks of warehouses in the world, crammed with the costliest of goods from every section and clime. After consuming the Phcenix buildings on Wall street, the fire pursued its way to Water street, Front street, and at length, as the morning dawned, to South street, adjoining the East river. But progressing at the same time, through Pearl street, on both sides, towards Hanover square, it crossed and speedily devoured Governeur lane, Jones s lane, and the whole of Front and Water streets that lay between Wall street and Franklin market. In the meantime, it was furiously extending through Exchange street and Exchange place to William street, and to all the buildings in the rear of the Merchants Exchange. This magnificent and beautiful edifice, which, for the elegant grandeur of its ar chitecture, was the pride not only of New York but of the whole country, it was hoped would continue to rear its dome GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 355 VIEW OF "WALL STREET DURING THE FIKE. in the sky, tliough all around it should become a scene of desolation for, there being no flames between it and the course of the wind, it seemed fortunately secure from any imminent danger. And so much confidence was reposed in this presumption, that the building was selected as the grand depot for the most precious kinds of mer chandise that could be rescued from the adjacent streets, and with which its great hall was completely piled. Every pre caution, too, was taken to preserve it, by conveying hose to its roof, and by spread ing wet blankets along those parts of the windows and cornices most exposed to the heat. But all proved vain ! At about one o clock in the morning the splendid edifice took fire, and although the flames preyed upon it but slowly for some time, they at length burst forth from its roof and dome, and weaved a pall of ruin over its vast and beautiful form. For full half an hour, the flames arose in pyramidal columns, from its dome, up to an immense height in the troubled sky, and rendered it a most sub lime though fearful object. But before the unhappy persons who had made it a refuge for their property from the terrible enemy that was abroad, could again rescue scarcely an article, the dome fell in with a portentous crash, burying beneath its ruined arches the new and beautiful statue of the illustrious Hamilton. A gallant effort was made to save this statue, by a young officer from the navy yard, with a party of four or five sailors; they had actually succeeded in removing it from the pedestal, when the danger from the approaching fall of the roof, watched with breathless anxiety by the terror-stricken multitude compelled them to seek safety in flight. At this time, the fire on Pearl street had reached Hanover square, which large space of ground was covered with goods. A desperate struggle was made to save them, but so rapidly did the fire spread on both sides of the square, that, in a short time, everything was reduced to cinders. Of the South Dutch church, which had also been stored with valuables, nothing -was left but the bare walls. The post-office shared the same desolation. 35G OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. To check the augmenting avalanche of fire, when water could not be thrown upon it or seemed of no avail if it was, gun powder was at last resorted to; but none, in sufficient quantities was to be procured in the city, it not being allowed as an article of merchandise. An application ut the fort on Governor s Island was unsuc cessful; but a supply was ultimately pro cured, after daylight, from the Brooklyn navy yard, with a corps of marines, and the demolition of some prominent build ings by this means, contributed materially to the subjugation of the flames, which was finally effected at Coenties slip, about noon of Thursday, after an awful and uninterrupted devastation of sixteen hours. Thus, seventeen of the most valuable blocks in the money and business part of the city were totally destroyed, and three others nearly so. The total loss, as given in the New American Cyclopedia, was more than eiy/tteen million dollars ! Six hundred and seventy buildings were burnt, principally occupied as importing and wholesale warehouses, the seat, in deed, of the greatest monetary and com mercial transactions on the American con tinent. It is not likely that the destruc tion of any given section of any other city in the world, of equal extent, would have involved a greater loss of capital, or ruined the fortunes of a larger number of men. The south side of Wall street was half destroyed. William, Pearl, Water, Front and South streets, from Wall street to Coenties slip, were in ruins. Exchange place, Hanover street, Merchant street, and Hanover square, were entirely de stroyed ; Stone street, from Pearl to Broail street, nearly so. Some of the buildings on Broad street suffered ; but throughout the night this noble avenue was univer sally regarded as the only efficient barrier against the entire destruction of the first ward, involving results almost incalculable, to property of every description. Before the gunpowder was used in blow ing up the buildings, there were constantly heard loud reports caused by explosions of casks of spirits, chemicals, and other substances. During the entire night, the scene was one of awful terror and inde scribable grandeur. The drought of the season had contributed to the combusti bility of the materials, and the rapidity with which house after house, range after range of buildings, was wrapped in flames, was frightful to the beholder. The gale being strong, large flakes of fire were borne whirling aloft, through the dark vault of heaven, with fearful splendor. Among the noticeable matters of curi osity, observed during the progress of the conflagration, was the resistance offered so long and staunchly to the flames, by the South Dutch church, Rev. Dr. Mat- thews s, but which finally yielded to the all-conquering foe. The bright gold ball and star surmounting the structure crowning the highest point of the spire gleamed brilliantly ; and thus, while the two were shining, in the deep blue con cave, with an intensity of brightness which attracted general remark, they sud denly gave one surge, and fell, in all their glory, into the chaotic heap beneath. Similar was the fate of the Hamilton statue, which, towering brightly amidst the sea of flames that dashed against its crackling base, cast a mournful glance on the terrific scene, and then fell with stately motion, perishing under the crush of the edifice of which it had been, as it were, the tutelary genius. A fine old syca more, near the corner of Beaver and Wil liam streets, on the premises formerly occupied by Cadwallader D. Colden, vig orously resisted the foe, standing un harmed amid the ruins. At the head of one of the slips, a novel spectacle occurred. A large quantity of turpentine, piled up in barrels, caught the flames and burnt with great fury, on ac count of its peculiarly inflammable charac ter. It ran clown in a stream, like burn ing lava, into the dock, upon the surface of the water, and, being lighter than the latter, spread out until it had covered a vast extent, giving the river the appear ance of one rolling mass of liquid fire, startling but beautiful to behold. GKEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. Peculiarly exciting was the doom which overtook Hanover square, where every body thought the goods deposited would be perfectly safe. In this great area, there was accumulated from the stock of all the French stores, a mass of silks, satins, laces, dresses in pattern, capes, Cashmere shawls, and the richest kinds of fancy articles, forming an enormous pile sixty feet wide by twenty-five feet in height, or nearly one hundred feet square. Suddenly, and to the apalling consterna tion of the anxious throng, a gust of flame, like a streak of lightning, came from the north-east corner building, and shooting and happy, were the next day bankrupts, utterly ruined. Stephen Whitney s loss, in stores, stock, and goods, was estimated at nearly half a million dollars. In one of the stores consumed, were eight hun dred thousand pounds of lead ; after the fire was over, and the rubbish removed, it was found that the lead had melted into prodigious masses, so that the owner had to quarry it out. The great dry goods firm of which Arthur Tappan, the renowned abolition leader, was at the head, escaped, peculiarly, the absolute ruin in which so many of the other great firms were involved. Their THE GREAT COXFLAGRATIOX AS VIEWED FROM COEXTIES SLIP. wildly across the square, blown by the strong wind, set fire to the entire mass. No human effort could for a moment suc cessfully interpose, and in a few moments the whole was but a heap of cinders and ashes. Some of the individual losses were, of course, immense ; as an example, one mer chant had in silks alone, three hundred thousand dollars, which were destroyed; another, two hundred thousand dollars in teas and brandies. Many who went home to their families that evening, prosperous store being of stone, and having window- shutters of thick boiler iron put on after the mobs of the previous year, Avithstood the flames for nearly an hour, while all was in a blaze around it, so that there was thus afforded time to carry out the books and papers, and a very large amount of goods, estimated at one hundred thousand dollars in value, placing them, after two removes, beyond the spread of the fire. The energy and daring with which the colored people pressed forward, in the face of every obstacle, to save Mr. Tappan s 358 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-lS7f>. property, greatly impressed the bystanders. It was with difficulty they were restrained from rushing in, after the flames had burst out at the door. In addition to the value of what they thus saved, was a con siderable insurance. As usual, those miscreants who always avail themselves of such public opportuni ties to exercise their skill in plundering, did not neglect the present most fruitful and tempting occasion. The extent of their depredations, and the number of rob bers who committed them, were commen surate with the extent and character of the conflagration. More than ninety rob bers were taken in the act of carrying away property during the night of the fire ; and the ensuing day, some two hun dred more were arrested for having in their possession property which was stolen from the fire. The scenes at the police office, growing out of these criminal prac tices, were of a kind that beggared de scription, the squalid misery of the greater part of those who were arrested with their ill-gotten spoils, the lies and prevarications to which they resorted to induce the magistrates not to commit them to prison, their objurgations and wailings when the} found they must re linquish the splendid prizes they had seized during the raging of the fire and the accompanying excitement. The num bers in which these persons were brought up for examination, by the police and mil itary, exceeded anything of a similar kind on record. For three days and nights, every place capable of affording detention was crammed with these unhappy culprits sometimes as many as one hundred being in confinement at the same moment. Hundreds were discharged without any other proceedings than merely taking from them their plunder; and, indeed, but very few of the whole number, even those who had pillaged to a very large amount, could be convicted in a court of justice, in consequence of the impossibility of identifying, by the neces sary legal proof in such cases, the prop erty stolen. But thus it was the night of terror was made a carnival of lawless ness and crime ! On the second night after the conflagra tion, a couple of gentlemen observed a stout Irishwoman walking up Pearl street, near the corner of Wall street, with what was evidently a ponderous bundle under her cloak. When she saw the gentlemen observing her, she immediately commenced singing, with the usual maternal tone and accent, Hush-a-by, bab} , etc. The gentlemen thinking that the poor baby was quite worrisome, offered their aid to quiet its infant restlessness. Oh, bless your honors, she s asleep now, was the response. The gentlemen still persisted in having a peep at the blooming little cherub. She resisted but manly tender ness could not be overcome thus. On opening the cloak, they found that the dear little creature, in the terror of the moment, had actually changed into an armful of the richest silk and satin goods, slightly burnt at the ends. The affection ate mother was immediately secured and put beyond the reach of any similar maternal trials. It is supposed that a thousand baskets of champagne were broken and destroyed, the tops being unceremoniously knocked off, and the contents drank up by the crowds surrounding the iire or working. An immense quantity of baskets of cham pagne were to be seen floating in the docks, and cheese and provisions were pro fusely scattered about. Had it not been for the civic patrols formed in several of the wards, property to a much greater amount would have been pillaged. The United States marines, too, in a large body, under official command, formed a complete chain of sentinels, all along South street, from the Fulton ferry to Wall street, and up Wall to the Exchange ; they kept their post, with bayonets fixed, all night, and proved a terror to the hordes of thieves hovering around. Nevertheless, in addition to the inevitable robberies after the ordinary methods, vast quanti ties of merchandise were carried off in boats, during the long nights, and GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 359 secreted on the Long Island and Jersey shores. One of the most remarkable develop ments of crime, in the midst of these scenes of terror and disaster, was the case of the man caught in the act of setting fire to the house at the corner of Stone and Broad streets. It is scarcely possible to conceive, that there could exist such a fiend as this in human shape, without sup posing him to be either a maniac, or drunk with liquor. It would seem, however, to have been done with design and that of the most diabolical nature, when it is considered that the fearful apprehensions of the whole of that part of the city were directed to this point, lest the fire would cross it and reach the Battery. On the determination, finally arrived at, to check the onward march of the fire by blowing up the buildings with gunpowder, the fate of the city was believed to hang. The material with which to carry out this plan was, as already observed, obtained with difficulty, but it was used effectually when once secured. Nothing could be more characteristic than the entire sang froid with which the sailors of Captain Mix s party carried about, wrapped up in a blanket, or a pea-jacket, as it might hap pen, kegs and barrels of gunpowder, amid a constant shower of fire, as they cour ageously followed their officers to the various buildings indicated for destruction. Stung with the cold, the hardy fellows never for a moment quailed in the per formance of their duty. So inclement, indeed, did the weather continue, that many of the firemen were compelled to take the fine blankets saved from the flames, and, cutting a hole through them, convert them into temporary cloaks ; in this attire they were seen the ensuing day, dragging home their engines, man}* of the poor fellows being so exhausted b\ r fatigue and bitten by the cold, that they were well nigh asleep as they walked. One entire company, thus accoutered, thinking the best way of dealing with their troubles was to make light of them, had artificial wreaths and bunches of artificial flowers, of the richest kind, in their caps, picked up from the wreck of matter scattered beneath their feet ; in this garb, they left the scene of their protracted toil, pre senting a very singular contrast with their begrimmed faces and jaded appear ance. The striking advantage of railroads (then in their infancy in the United States), especially at a season when every thing is locked up in ice, was never more emphatically demonstrated, than in the prompt arrival of fire engines from New ark, N. J., nine miles distant. The same locomotive that early on Thursday morn ing carried out the news of the great fire, brought these engines on their platform within an hour afterwards to the city. Their services were eminently useful. The noble conduct, too, of the Philadelphia firemen, Avon for them deserved praise. Immediately on the receipt of the intelli gence from New York, four hundred of them organized themselves and started to go on. Unfortunately, by the breaking down of one of the cars on the railroad, a large number of them were obliged to go back, but some arrived early on Saturday morning, and the remainder followed with as little delay as possible. They reported themselves immediately on arrival, and having stations assigned them amid the ruins, went to work with great spirit and effect. The appearance of things on the day after the fire, was such as to impress itself, ineffaceably, upon the memory. It re quired but a slight stretch of the imagi nation, for the beholder to feel as though he were in the vicinity of Pompeii, with Vesuvius sending up its lurid glare close at hand, throwing a melancholy light over the deserted ruins. Just here arose a large and ragged pile, where the corners of four stately buildings still stood up by mutual support ; there towered grandly a solitary chimney; yonder stood the frown, ing fragment of a vast wall ; a little far ther, was the front of a half block, the windows gone, reminding one, in the dim distance, of the vacancy and desola- 360 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 17T6-1876. RUINS OF THE MERCHANTS T.XCHAN tion of a castle ; in the midst, there loomed up half a dozen cold-visaged granite pillars, standing as though they were grim and solitary sentinels, stationed there to frighten the plunderer from his ill-sought booty. But here is the grandest ruin of all the Exchange ! with its huge pillars rent and torn from top to bottom, and the massy architraves, like the antiquated temples of Carthage and Palmyra, still tottering upon their capitals ! So vast was the barren waste, that an uninter rupted view was afforded from Wall street to the East river, and thence to Coenties slip ; a prospect of awful grandeur, as far as the eye could reach. As has already been stated, the Exchange was the architectural pride, not only of New York, but of the nation. It was three magnificent stories in height, with corresponding basement and attic. The south-west front, one hundred and fourteen feet front, and the main front on Wall street, was of Westchester marble. The first and second stories were of the Ionic order, from the temple of Minerva Polias, at Prigne, in Ionia. A recessed elliptical portico, of forty feet width, introduced in front. A screen of four columns and two antae, each thirty feet high, and three feet four inches in diameter above the base, composed of a single block of marble, ex tended across the front of the portico, sup porting an elegant entablature of six feet in height, on which rested the third story, making a height of sixty feet from the ground, and the cupola which crowned the structure was also sixt} r feet high. The principal entrance to the rotunda and exchange room was by a flight of marble steps, with a pedestal at each end. The vestibule was of the Ionic order, from the little Ionic temple of Illyssus. The exchange room, which was the rotunda, measured seventy-five feet long, fifty feet wide, and forty-two feet high. In the center of this splendid rotunda was erected, by the liberality of the New York merchants, the statue of Alexander Ham ilton, sculptured by Ball Hughes. This fine work of art was about fifteen feet high, including the base on which it was elevated, and chiseled from the whitest marble. After a long and critical official investi gation, as to the origin of this fire, the GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 361 conclusion arrived at by the citizens com mittee, was, that a report like an explo sion of a gas-pipe was heard in the store No. 25 Merchant street, to proceed from No. 28, and soon after the flames seemed to have been enkindled on the first floor, and shot up with the rapidity of light ning through the scuttles in the several floors to the upper story and through the roof. The fire, therefore, must have been produced by the bursting of a gas-pipe, and the distribution of the gas, until it came in contact with the coal in the stove or grate, by which it was ignited. XL. 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 Unquailing Courage. A Spectacle Unwitnessed Before in the Halls of Legislation Triumph ol His Muster Mind The Right and Petition a 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 S aves. 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 agfi. he wa o Iron of limb, Mont- of the youth could cope with him! And the ! - whom he Kingly kept it bay, Outnumbered ln hoin of white and gray." Vivi - Iferv ^ENERABLE in years, and laden with political S^// 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 18.31. 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 the freedom of speech and of the press, it became evident 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, MONSTER PETITION TO CONGRESS. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 3G3 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, he declared, than whom there was no more respectable and worthy 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 slaver} 7 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, he 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 any 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 ivas the casting of the die. Well was it called the "Gag Rub." 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 virtually 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 364 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 separate petition. His position in these scenes, advocating, amidst scorn and derision, and threats of expulsion and assassination, the inalienable J. 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 uj> 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 of 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 "\Vey- mouth, in the state of Massachusetts, "impressed with the sinfulness of slavery, and keenly aggrieved by its existence in a purt 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 him 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 365 erto invariable practice was to be reversed, let the decision stand upon record, and let it appear ho\v 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 petition, 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 /" "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, 366 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, from members of slave-holding states, were submitted, but none proved satisfactory even to themselves. The idea of bringing the venerabje 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 lie, "as they all concur in naming mo, 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 have 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 Avas 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 nil, 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. When 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 367 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 punish 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 done 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} r 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 368 OUR FiftST CENTURY. 1776-1876. JOITN QUINCY ADAMS DEFENDING THE BIGHT OF PETITION IN CONGRESS. 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 369 seek no friends, and but a few among those immediately around him. Unexcited, lie raised his voice, high-keyed, as was usual with him, hut clear, untremulous, and firm. In a moment his infirmities disap peared, although his shaking hand could not hut he noticed ; trembling not with fear, but with age. At iirst there was nothing of indignation in his tone, manner, or words. Surprise and cold contempt were all. The thread of his great discourse Avas 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 iiis 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 Marshal], the venerated and immaculate Virginian, through a long career of judi cial honor and usefulness. With a Hash 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. Read 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 24 of reform, revolution, and resistance to oppression, the grand old man thundered out " Rend that again!" Looking proudly around on the listen^ ing audience, he heard his triumphant A indication sounded forth in the glorious sentences of the nation s Magna Charta, written by Mr. Jefferson, a Virginian. The sympathetic revulsion of feeling Avas intense, though A oiceless ; 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, judges, and other high officials, inmunera- ble. A strong exhibition of the facts in the case, mostly in cold, calm, logical, measured sentences, concluded Mr. Adams a effort, and he sat down, vindicated, A ictc- rious. Intemperate debates, Avith violence undi- minished, succeeded, in Avhich all the topics of party censure, from the adoption of the constitution, Avere 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 Avith assassination ; among other kindly hints, of this sort, sent through the post-office, being a colored lithograph portrait of him self, Avith the picturesque annotation of a rifle-ball on the forehead, and a promise that such, a remedy Avould "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 Avilling to forego it all, provided it could be done without sacrificing his rights, the rights of his constituents, and those of the peti- 370 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187G. 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 bv 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 call the roll of the members, according to custom. "NYhen 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 lifth 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 anarchy, had main tained a profound silence. He appeared to be engaged most of the time in writing. To a common observer he 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 lie 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 edge 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 any 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 GEEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 371 present ! We degrade and disgrace our selves ; we degrade and disgrace our con stituents and our country. 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, the func tions of 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 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 capitol 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 immediate!} 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 iw," 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 Qnincy 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" 372 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1770-1876. 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, J)r. 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. XLI. 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. Benton s 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 so help me God ! shall control the key to the Nation s funds, but the United States Government itself." PRESI DENT JACKSON. 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 his message to congress, President Jackson expressed an opinion against renewing the SAFE PLACE FOB THE KEY TO THE PUBLIC FUNDS. 374 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. charter of the United States bank, which would expire in 1836. The bank had not yet formally applied for such renewal, but, being thus pressed upon the attention of congress, it was referred to the committee on linance in both houses for examina tion; and on the thirtieth of April, 1830, Mr. MeDufiie, 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 hank, 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. Kiddle 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 other, as an act pregnant with fearful and appalling woes. Such, too, was the political complexion of congress, at this period, tluut 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 it.-- 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 otr/i, 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 Roger B. Taney, who at once GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 375 executed the presidential order. The president emphatically declared : "No power on earth so JieJp 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 JIarch, 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 by order of the senate, this day of , 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 376 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. this scene, as described, mainly. by Mr. Benton himself, was as follows : Saturday, the fourteenth of January, the democratic senators agreed to have a meeting, and to take their linal 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 Boulanger, 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 np, 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 " AV- pniifjed 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 siu-h 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, Niles 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 vis bly 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, the} had not considered the expunging movement a serious pro ceeding; as it advanced, they still ex pected it to miscarry on some point ; now, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 377 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 :#3 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 FAC-SIMILE 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 thus 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- arj r 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. 378 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S76. The passage of the resolution was an nounced from the chair. .Mr. J!enton rose, and said that nothing now remained hut to execute the order of the senate, which lie 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, IS. U, 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 : "Exi UXGED I .V ORDER OF THK SEN"- ATE, THIS IGril DAY OF M.\K< H, 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 the secretary of the senate began to per form the expunging process. Instantly a storm of hisses, groans, and vociferations arose from the left wing of the gallerv, over the head of Mr. lientou. Anticipat ing the possibility of violence, some of the senator s friends had gone out and brought units info f/ia /Kill. No use, however, was made of them, the mob being intimidated by one of the ringleaders being sei/.ed 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, lie 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. XLII. MAGNIFICENT AURORA BOREALIS ENCOMPASSING THE WHOLE FIRMAMENT TO ITS FARTHEST BOUNDS. 183T. A Vast Canopy of Gorgeous Crimson Flames Encircles the Earth. Arches of Eesplenclent Auroral Glories Span the Hemisphere Innumerable Scarlet Columns of Dazzling Beauty Kise 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 Kemarkable Duration and Aspects. 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. Accounts from Different Points. Europe s Share in the Display. " Depth, height, breadth. Are lost in their extremes; and where to count The thick-sown glories in these fields of fire, Perhaps a seraph s computation fails." SINGULAR FORM OF AURORAL ARCH. 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 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, Redfield, 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 even 580 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Olm stead, 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 i;. tense 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 ivas diffused like the light of an astral lamp, covered with a red shade <jf 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 lire, 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 eveiy portion of the firmament, but without any apparent cause. In the city of New Y ork, 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. But at 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 381 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 higb in the north-west. Innumer able bright arches shot up from the whole northern 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 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187G. 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 iirst 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 merrv 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 383 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 lie 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 S^t. Louis, Mo., and was particularly brilliant between the hours of twelve and one, when the moon was near its zenith. Time in St. Louis 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 the heavens with a brilliant glory, of indescrib able beauty and magnificence, hanging, as it were, suspended from the blue vault 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 384 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. VIEW OF THE AURORA BOREALIS IN ITS EAHI.Y 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, at 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 t In- 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 fine 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 earl} 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 or 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 385 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, 1859, 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. 25 XLIII. EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE SOUTH POLE, UNDER COMMAND OF CAPTAIN CHARLES WILKES, UNITED STATES NAVY. 1838. First Naval Enterprise of the Kind Ever Undertaken by the American Navy. The Squadron Sails Ninety Thousand Miles in Four Years. Extent and Importance of the Investigations. Discovery of the Great Antarctic Continent Other Geographical, Nautical, and Scientific Results. Selection of Officers and Vessels. A Scientific Corps Organized. Route Prescribed : Seas and Lands. Enthusiastic Departure Arrival at Terra del Fucgo. Observations at Cape Horn. Excursion to the Cordilleras. Ascent of a Lofty Peak. Desolation and Silence. New Islands Discovered. An Observatory Established. TUe Samoan Group Examined. Descent into an Extinct Volcano. New South Wales Visited. Extreme Southward Cruise. View of the Ice-bound Continent. A Landing Effected. Account of this Achievement. Experiences at Feejee. On the Summit of Mauna-Loa. Home\vanl Bound Tracks. Safe Arrival. " The primary object of the Expedition U to promote the frreat interests of Commerce and Nnopntion ; yet you ore to take all orcaciomi not Incompatible with the treat purpotm of the undertaking, to Extend the ilouuds of Science and fioinote the Acquisition of Knowledge." OFFICIAL llfiTKUCTlOKt TO THE E.XI-LUKKHS. UiETLY raising the flag of his gallant little squadron, in the harbor of Norfolk, Va., on the eighteenth of August, 1838, the intrepid Wilkes, as commander of the first maritime exploring expedition ever undertaken by the United States government, set sail on that voyage of discovery to the far southern ocean and the mysterious south pole, which, occupying four years, sailed ninety thousand miles, nearly t\vo thousand of which were along the coast of a great Antarctic Continent never before seen by civilized man, and which was first discovered by Wilkes from the one hundred and fifty-eighth degree of east longi tude ; one of the numerous splendid scientific results of this grand national expedition The enterprise received its official programme from Hon. James K. Paulding, secretary of the navy under President Van Buren ; and, though it was at first organized under Commodore Thomas Ap Catesby Jones, he subsequently resigned. This expedition will always be memorable in the history of the nation, from its being the first fitted out by the United States for scientific objects; for, although its primary design was the promotion of the great interests of commerce and navigation, yet its conductors were explicitly directed to take all occasions, not incompatible with the great purpose of their undertaking, to extend the bounds of science, and promote the acquisition of knowledge. Some of the specific matters to which the attention of the expedition was par ticularly called, in the official instructions, were as follows : The hydrography and GREAT AND MEMOEABLE EVENTS. 387 geography of the various seas and coun tries visited on the prescribed route, and all the researches connected with them, as well as with astronomy, terrestrial mag netism, and meteorology, were confided exclusively to the officers of the navy, the government expecting such results from this arrangement, as would enable future navigators to pass over the track traversed by the expedition, without fear and without danger. The leading members of the scientific corps were Mr. Hale, philologist ; Mr. Pickering, and Mr. Peale, naturalists ; Mr. Couthuoy, conchologist ; Mr. Dana, miner alogist ; Mr. Rich, botanist ; Mr. Drayton, and Mr. Agate, draughtsmen ; Mr. Brack enridge, horticulturist. Much enthusiasm and anxiety naturally prevailed, 011 the signal being given for the squadron to sail. The vessels compos ing the squadron, were the sloop of war Yincennes, the flag-ship of the comman der of the expedition ; the sloop of war Peacock, Lieutenant William L. Hudson ; the brig Porpoise, Lieutenant Cad\valader Ringgold ; the store-ship Relief, Lieu tenant A. K. Long ; and the tenders Sea- Gull and Flying Fish. Every confidence was reposed in Commander Wilkes, who had served so creditably under Commodores McDonough and Stewart. Keeping the direction of the Gulf stream, the course of the expedition was towards Madeira; having touched there, they stood to the southward, and, on the twenty-third of November, stood for the magnificent harbor of Rio Janeiro. The whole squadron then sailed by the way of Rio Negro to Orange harbor in Terra del Fuego. The natives of the former, with whom the explorers came in contact, had good figures and pleasant looking coun tenances, low foreheads and high cheek bones, with broad faces, the lower parts projecting; their hair was coarse and cut short on the crown, leaving a narrow bor der of hair hanging down; over this they wore a kind of cap or band of skin or woolen yarn. The front teeth of all of them were very much worn, more appar ent, however, in the old than in the young. On one foot they wore a rude skin sandal. Many of the inhabitants of Terra del Fuego had their faces painted in red and black stripes, with clay, soot, and ashes. Their whole appearance, together with their inflamed and sore eyes, was filthy and disgusting. The Petcherai Indians were found to go entirely naked, with the exception of a small piece of seal-skin, only sufficient to cover one shoulder, and which was gen erally worn on the side from which the wind blew, affording them some little shelter from its piercing influence. They are not more than five feet high, of a light copper color, which is much con cealed by smut and dirt, particularly on their faces, which they mark vertically with charcoal. They have short faces, narrow foreheads, high cheek-bones, small and very black e} r es, the upper eyelids in the inner corner overlapping the under one, strongly resembling the Chinese. Their nose is broad and flat, with wide spread nostrils, mouth large, teeth white and regular. The whole face is com pressed. It is impossible to fancy any thing in human nature more filthy. They are an ill-shapen, ugly race. On its cruise to the south, the squadron experienced the usual reception at Cape Horn rough and stormy weather. In regard to the best mode of proceeding, in making the passage round the cape, Cap tain Wilkes expresses his belief that as much depends upon the vessel, and the manner in which she is navigated, as the route pursued, whether the cape is passed close to, or given a wide berth the ob ject of all being to pass it as quickly as possible. Arriving at Valparaiso, the explorers established an observatory. An excursion to the Cordilleras, by the scientific corps, was to be expected ; but, unfortunately, they were not provided with the requisite instruments for ascertaining elevations. They ascended a ridge belonging to the main body of the Cordilleras, and at the height of about ten thousand feet, they 388 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. reached the summit. Here they had an extensive view of all the line of the snowy peaks. That of Tupongati appeared the most conspicuous, although at a distance of eighty miles. Indeed, the guide him self asserted that he could see smoke issuing from its volcano in a faint streak, but it was beyond the vision of the rest of the party. The peak itself from this view of it was quite sharp-pointed. The scene immediately around the explorers was one of grandeur and desolation, mountain after mountain, separated by immense chasms, to the depth of thousands of feet, and the sides broken in the most fantastic forms imaginable. Nor could anything be more striking or impressive than the complete silence that reigned everywhere ; not a living thing appeared to their view. From Callao the squadron passed through the Paumotu group to Tahiti, visiting islands not before known, the ships steer ing for the island of Minerva, or Cler- mont de Tonnerre, one of the most eastern of that Cloud of Islands, as the name implies. Visits were made to other islets also, and their inhabitants, such as Wy- toohee, Otooho, Raraka, Aratica, and the Arutua or Rurick Islands ; but the ac count of this archipelago is, of course, imperfect, the whole number of coral islands being sixty-five. Remark is made r however, that the landing on a coral island effectually does away with all precon ceived notions of its beauty, and any pre vious ideas formed in its favor are imme diately put to flight. The verdure con sists of mere patches of wiry grass, no fruit nor flowers, and most of the trees are of stunted size. Record is made of the discovery of new islands namely, King s island, so denominated after the man at the mast head who first discovered it ; Tai-a-ra, situated to the northward and west ward and nigh to Raraka, which was not laid down on any charts ; and Kawahe. Arriving at Tahiti, the explorers lost no time in commencing operations. An observatory, furnished with both as tronomic and magnetic instruments, was at once established, and parties sent out for the survey of the princi pal harbors and the intervening chan nels. A large body of officers and naturalists were also sent across the islands to visit Orohena, one of the highest peaks, and Lake Waiherea. They could not, however, reach the de sired spot, but some days afterwards Cap tain Hudson, with his officers, succeeded in measuring the elevation of Aorai, the peak which is next in height to Orohena. This was found to be about seven thousand feet ; Orohena appeared to be some fifteen hundred feet higher. From these two- peaks, ridges descend to all parts of the coast ; they are precipitous and narrow \ their summit being often a mere edge. Reaching the harbor of Papieti, the commander invited the great chiefs on board, the ship being dressed for the oc casion, and every mark of respect being shown them. Luncheon was prepared, and, when the guests were all seated at it, such a collection of corpulent persons was rarely if ever before seen. Previous to eating, one of the chiefs said grace. They seemed heartily to enjoy the food GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 389 and the occasion, and conducted them selves with a propriety that surprised all on board. It having been determined to make a thorough examination of the group of the Samoan islands, Tutulia, as the most cen tral, was selected for the station. The men of Tutulia are a remarkably tall, fine- looking set, with intelligent and pleasing countenances. In comparison with the Tahitians, they would be called sedate. The women are far from good-looking, with the exception of some of the younger ones. They are remarkably domestic and virtuous, exhibiting a strange contrast to those of Tahiti. Messrs. Dana and Couthuoy visited a lake called Lauto, which is remarkable for the existence of an extinct volcano, or crater. The edge of the crater was found to be two thousand five hundred and seventy feet above the sea, and the de scent thence to the water of the lake is one hundred and twenty feet. These gen tlemen succeeded in obtaining a line of soundings across the lake, by cutting down trees, and forming a raft of them. They found the depth, in the middle, nine and a half fathoms, decreasing thence gradually in all directions to the shore. The form of the lake is nearly circular, and it has a subterranean outlet. The hill in which this crater is situated is coni cal, and there is a low knoll at some dis tance to the south of it, which is the only other elevation in the neighborhood, above the general height of the ridge. The bor der of the crater is clothed with the usual forest foliage of these islands, which, how ever, exhibits here more than usual beauty, being decorated with finely-worked fronds of the arborescent ferns, in widely-spread stars, and the graceful mountain-palm plumes. In the different jaunts across the island, man} of the Devil s, or unconverted, towns were visited. At the town of Siusinga, the chief who entertained the party was a priest of the Gimblet religion, a new faith, of singular origin, its founder having been a native of Savaii, by name Seeovedi, who, having been taken from that island by a whaler, received, while on board, the nickname of Joe Gimblet. Embracing, in course of time, the Roman Catholic faith, and possessing withal much shrewdness, he planned to found a sect of his own, and pretended to work miracles. He gained many proselytes ; and tlie sect, in case of sickness, confess their sins to one another, and have a number of fast- days, which are rigidly kept. Their Sab bath occurs only once a month, and is cel ebrated by the firing of guns, and the puerile mummery in which their worship consists. After having surveyed and explored the Samoan group, the expedition proceeded to New South Wales. The natives of this country are described as a proud, high- tempered race, each man being independ ent of his neighbor, owning no superior, and exacting no deference ; they have not in their language any word signifying a chief or superior, nor to command or serve. Each individual is the source of his own comforts, and the artificer of his own household implements and weapons; and but for the love of companionship, he might live with his family apart and isolated from the rest, without sacrificing any advantages whatever. They have an air of haughtiness and insolence arising from this independence, and nothing will induce them to acknowledge any human being as their superior, or to show any marks of respect. They also appear to have a consciousness of independence, which causes them, on all occasions, to treat even the highest with equality. Their skin is a chocolate color ; their noses are not flat, nor are their lips thick ; their teeth white and even. Leaving Sidney, the last of December, 1839, the vessels proceeded separately to the southward, when all reached the icy barrier, and three of them were rewarded ivith a sight of the hitherto unknown antarctic continent, a discovery which was subsequently confirmed by both French and English authorities. According to the narrative of the explor- 300 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1870. ers, it was at two o clock on the morning of February thirteenth, 1840, that they made sail to the south-west, in order to close with the barrier, which they found icebergs of tabular form. In the afternoon, the) r saw land ahead, and stood in for it, with a light breeze until half-past six, when it was judged to be ten or twelve retreated in that direction, and gave them every prospect of getting nearer to it. The course, for the most part, was through miles distant. It was very distinct, and extended from west-south-west to south- south-east. The longitude was one huu- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 391 dred and six degrees, forty minutes, east; latitude, sixty-five degrees, fifty-seven minutes, south. The water was very green ; and, though sounded to three hun dred fathoms, no bottom was found. The weather having an unsettled appearance, the expedition stood off to seek a clearer space for the night. The land left was high, rounded, and covered with snow, resembling that first discovered, and had the appearance of being bound by perpen dicular icy cliffs. At daylight, the next morning, sail was again made for the land, the vessels beat ing in for it for several hours, when any further progress was found quite impossi ble. The day was remarkably clear, and the land very distinct, judged to be seven or eight miles distant. By measurement, the extent of the coast of the Antarctic Continent then in sight, was made to be seventy-five miles, and, by ap proximate measurement, three thousand feet high. It was entirely covered with snow. On running in, they passed several icebergs greatly discolored with earth, and there being no nearer approach to the shore possible, it was determined to land on the largest ice-island access ible, to make dip, intensity, and variation observations. On coming up to the island, about a mile and a half from where the barrier had previously been encountered, the ship was hove to, the boats lowered, and a land ing fortunately effected. There were found imbedded in the island, in places, boulders, stones, gravel, sand, and mud or clay. The larger specimens were of red sandstone and basalt. No signs of strati fication were to be seen in it, but it was in places formed of icy conglomerate, com posed of large pieces of rocks, as it were frozen together, and the ice was extremely hard and flint-like. The largest boulder imbedded in it was about five or six feet in diameter, but could not be reached, being situated under the shelf of the ice berg. Many specimens were obtained, the eagerness and desire of all hands to pos sess themselves of a piece of the Antarctic Continent being very great. These pieces were in great demand during the remainder of the cruise. In the center of this iceberg was found a pond of most delicious water, over which was a surface of ice about ten inches thick. The pond was three feet deep, extending over an area of an acre, and contained sufficient water for half a dozen ships. The temperature of the water was thirty- one degrees. This island had, undoubt edly, been turned partly over, and had precisely the same appearance that the icy barrier would have exhibited if it had been turned bottom up and subsequently much worn by storms. There was no- doubt that it had been detached from the land, which was about eight miles distant- The icebergs found along the coast afloat were from a quarter of a mile to five miles in length ; their separation from the land may be effected by severe frost rending them asunder, after which the violent and frequent storms may be considered a suffi cient cause to overcome the attraction which holds them to the parent mass. In their next stage they exhibit the process of decay, being found fifty or sixty miles from the land, and for the most part with their surfaces inclined at a considerable angle to the horizon. This is caused by a change in the position of the center of gravity, arising from the abrading action of the waves. Proceeding to New Zealand, the expedi tion went thence to the Feejee islands, exploring the same very thoroughly. Most of the harbors in the Feejee group are described as mere indentations in the coast outline, protected by the encircling reefs of coral. Probably the best of them all is that of Levuka, on the east side of Ovolau, which is safe and easy of access for vessels of the largest class. The town is located in the midst of a grove of bread fruits and cocoas, whose feathery canopies afford a most delightful shade; its site is a beautiful valley, through which courses a fine stream of fresh water, opening to the ocean, flanked on either side by ver dant hills, and rising by a gradual ascent 392 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. to the lofty peaks of basalt that bound the view to the west. The entire Feejee group comprises one hundred and fifty-four islands, and they are covered with a luxuriant foliage to WILKES S PARTY DEALING WITH THE SAVAGES. their very summits, giving them a singu larly pleasing and picturesque aspect. The climate is very fine, the soil rich, and vegetation exceedingly rapid. The natives are a barbarous and savage race, and to their cruelty it was that Lieutenant Un derwood and Midshipman Henry, two of the most promising officers of the expedi tion, fell mortal victims, while on shore to obtain provisions. For these murders, prompt vengeance was inflicted by Captain Wilkes. Captain Wilkes next visited the Ha waiian islands, and, in the course of his scientific operations, ascended personally to the summit of Mauna-Loa, and there performed the difficult and important feat of measuring the pendulum. This moun tain is nearly fourteen thousand feet high, with a smooth dome, crowned by an immense crater, upwards of two miles in diameter. The other places visited by the expedi tion, were the north-west coast of America, and the Columbia and Sacramento rivers ; they then explored portions of California, and, leaving San Francisco in the month of Novem ber, 1841, went on a cruise to Manila, Sooloo, Borneo, Singapore, and the Cape of Good Hope, re turning home, by way of St. He lena, in June, 1842, after an ab sence of about four years. The number of sketches of the different places visited, made by the artists on board, was about five hundred, I together with some two hundred portraits. Thousands of speci mens of birds, animals, fishes, rep tiles, insects, shells, minerals, etc., were also collected and brought home. The results of the expedi tion were, in a word, such as reflected the highest honor upon the national government, under whose auspices it was organized, and upon the gallant officers and men to whom it was intrusted. >: XLIT. 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 for 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. "I shall not close this letter without exhorting you to refrain from spirituous liquors; they will prove your ruin if you do not. Consider how little a drunken man differs from a beast; the latter Is not endowed with reason, the former deprives himself of it." GI.N ER.U. WASH- ( 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 Rush, 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 penalt} 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. 394 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. But the clay of small beginnings, in a humane cause, is never to be despised, and, in a few years, the reform hud 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 one 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 1820, 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, Wai worth, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 395 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 ourselves 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 396 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. ad ventures. 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 d d 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 L consequently known as Washlngtonians. \ 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 f habitually used liquor J or wine himself, and J provided it for his 1 guests and laborers. J The following curious jj document is in point: " Articles of Agree- J ment made this tweluh 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 Hater, Gardener, on the other. Witness, that the said Philip Pater, 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 lie will faithfully and 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 Philip Bater, the said George Washington doth agree to allow him (the said Philip) the same kind and quantity of provisions as lie 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 SIGNING THE PLEDGE. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 397 many pair of shoes as are actually neces sary for him ; four dollars at Christmas, with ivhich 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 drunken 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 waut. 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 : .n 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 of 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- 398 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. cerity 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 he related some ludicrous story, those tearful eyes glistened with delight, sighs changed to hearty shouts, and long faces we Be 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., lilled 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, Bun gay, 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 countn r , 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 Gal way, 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 who 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 Hull ; and at Boston, the doors of Faneuil Hall GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 399 DISTINGUISHED TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES. 400 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 mouths, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 401 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 w i tn a hole i* 1 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 can hardly be overestimated. 26 FREMONT S HEROIC EXPEDITION OF DISCOVERY TO THE UNTRACKED REGION OF THE NORTH-WEST, OREGON, CALIFORNIA, ETC. 1842. His Exploration of the Sierra Nevada, anil of tliat Wonderful Gateway in the Rocky Mountains, the South Pass Plants the American Flag on the Highest Peak of that Lofty Range He Enriches Every Brand) of Natural Science, and Illustrates a Remote and Boundless Country Before Entirely Unknown. Fremont, a Pioneer of Empire. National Objects of 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 Soutli ] ass . Kit Carson," the Intrepid Guide. At the Topmost Peak, 14,000 Feet Startling Boldness of the View. Over powering Quiet and Solitude. Evidences of Awtul 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 detervln? of <iiMinri lieil recognition li the icrvloe rendered to eoirraphical iciem-e by the American explorer, r remunt " Kmu t KIDMIO WILLIAM IV., or FKUSIIA, TO BAKOH HUHUOLDT. VERY American reader is enchanted with the narrative of EXPLORING THK NOHTH-WE8T. tliosc intrepid and lieroic 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 403 planned, with the approval of Secretary Poinsett. The great object of this expe dition was to examine and report upon the rivers and country hetween 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 S nith 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 point 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 years, 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 pass 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 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. to which that term is commonly applied nothing of the gorge-like character and winding ascents of the Allegbany passes in America, nor of the great St. Bernard and Simplon passes in Europe. Approach ing from the month 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. PLANTtNO AMERICAN FLAO ON THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, BV FKEMONT. 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 flay ivaved 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 Rocky 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 (jreat mountain runr/fi, 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 405 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 May, 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. During 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 } r et 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 Rock}- 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 suppty 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 ; and often saw the mountains at their heads, white with snow, which divided the waters of the desert frcm 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 the Rio Virgen, the party crossed only small streams making their wa}* 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 406 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 horses, 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 Rocky Mountains, go off east and west towards the rising and the setting sun, all these, and other strange features of a new region, more Asiatic than American, 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 govern 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 FKEMONT ON HI8 CHEAT EXPLORING TOUR TO THE FAR WEST AND ROCKY MOfNTAI.NS. light and revealed to public view in the results of this exploration. But the great pathfinder was to win laurels in still another field. of Americans declared their independence of Mexico at Sonoma, a small town near San Francisco, and, not long after, they joined Commodore Sloat, who had recently GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 407 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. XLVI. REBELLION IN RHODE ISLAND, UNDER THOMAS W. DORR. 1842. Dissatisfaction with the Old Restricted Charter Granted by King Charles. Popular Suffrage and Equal Political Privileges Demanded Resistance of the Party in Power to these Movements. The Con testants Arm and Take the Field. Defeat of the Agitators and Flight of Dorr. Ultimate Prevalence of their Principles A Charter Two Hundred Years Old Its Monarchical Provisions. SuffrHge for Property Holders. Denied to alt Others. An Exclusive Legislature. Reformed Measures Demanded. A People s Convention Called. They Form a Constitution. Proclaimed the Supreme Law. Legislature Chosen under It. Thomas W. Dorr Elected Governor. Is Treated as a Traitor. Claims to be the People s Man Governor King s Military Activity Dorr Heads a Large Force Tries to Seize the Reins of Power. Is Routed : Quits the State. Returns Again to the Conflict. Entrenches at Chepachet : Retreats. Tried for Treason and Imprisoned. Pardoned and Restored. Something about " Barn-burning," or the Anti-Rent Insurrection in New York. " All political government ihould be inttituted for the good of the whole In general, and of every individual in particular." ESSATS ow OOTIH.XMENT. X^HARTER rights, granted by a king, constituted the charter of the political institutions of Rhode Island, for nearly two hundred years. This charter, received from Charles the Second, in 1663, was the fundamental law, and, down to the year 1841, no person had been allowed to vote for town or state officers, unless possessed of a certain amount of real estate. Under a subsequent statute of the legislature, based upon the spirit of the charter, no person could be admitted a freeman of any town, with full political privileges, unless he "CHARTER" VI. "CONSTITUTION." J r 1 i i r i r 111 owned a ireehold estate of the value of one hundred and thirty-four dollars, or was the eldest son of such a freeholder; and thus, only about one- third of all the citizens of the state were legal voters. At the January session of the legislature in 1841, a petition, signed by five or six hundred male inhabitants, praying for an extension of the right of suffrage, was pre sented. Influenced by that petition, as well as by other considerations, the legislature requested the qualified voters, or freemen, as they were called, to choose delegates at the August town-meetings, for a convention, to be held the ensuing November, to frame a written constitution. This convention was duly held, and the result of its labors, completed in 1842, was the instrument commonly known as the Landholders Consti tution, and which was formally submitted to the people. The friends of the constitution thus framed, in their statement of affairs to the chief magistrate of the nation, state that, in May, 1841, after said legal convention GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 409 had been provided for by the legislature, and before the time appointed for the choice of delegates by the qualified voters, a mass meeting was held by the friends of the extension of suffrage, at Newport, at which meeting a committee was appointed, called the state committee, who were authorized by said mass meeting, to take measures for calling a convention to frame a constitution. This committee, thus authorized, issued the request for a meet ing of the male citizens in the several towns, to appoint delegates to the proposed convention. Thus called together, the convention assembled in Providence, in October, 1841, and the instrument called the Peoples Constitution was the result of their delib erations. At subsequent meetings of por tions of the people, in December, 1841, by the authority of this convention, all males over twenty-one years of age were admitted to vote for the adoption of the people s constitution; these meetings not being according to the view held by the land holders party, under presiding officers whose legal duty or legal right it was to interpose any check or restraint as to age, residence, property, or color. By the provisions of the people s consti tution, it was ordained that said instru ment should be submitted to the people, for adoption or rejection, on the twenty- seventh of December, and on the two suc ceeding days. And it was also provided, that every person entitled to vote as afore said, who, from sickness, or other causes, may be unable to attend and vote in the town or ward meetings assembled for vot ing upon said constitution, on the days aforesaid, is requested to write his name on a ticket, and to obtain the signature upon the back of the same of a person who has given in his vote, as a witness thereto. And the moderator or clerk of any town or ward meeting, convened for the pur pose aforesaid, shall receive such vote on either of the three days next succeeding the three days before named for voting for said constitution. During the first three days, about nine thousand votes were received from the hands of the voters in the open town-meetings; and, by the privilege thus granted to every and all the friends of the constitution, of bringing into their meetings the names of voters during the three following days, five thou sand more votes were obtained, making an aggregate of about fourteen thousand votes. This constitution, thus originating and thus formed, was subsequently declared by the convention to be the supreme law of the land ; and, by its provisions, a govern ment was to be organized under it, by the choice of a governor, lieutenant-governor, senators and representatives, on the Mon day preceding the third Wednesday in April, 1842. By the provisions of the landholders constitution, as it was called, every white male native citizen, possessing the free hold qualification, and over twenty-one years of age, could vote, upon a residence of one year; or, without any freehold, could vote, upon a residence of two years, except in the case of votes for town-taxes, in which case the voter was required to possess the freehold qualification, or be taxed for other property of the value of one hundred and fifty dollars. By the people s constitution, every white male citizen of the United States, of the age of twenty-one years, who had resided in the state for one year, and in the town where he votes for six months, should be permitted to vote, with the same excep tion in regard to voting for town-taxes, as that contained in the other constitution. On the twenty-first, twenty-second, and twenty-third of March, the landholders constitution was, by an act of the legisla ture, submitted to all the persons who, by its provisions, would be entitled to vote under it, after its adoption, for their ratifi cation. It was rejected by a majority of six hundred and seventy-six; the whole number of votes polled, during these three exciting days, was over sixteen thousand. The people s constitution, on being sub mitted to the people for ratification, received fourteen thousand votes, the 410 OUR FIRST CENT URY. 1776-1876. returns being counted and the result declared in January, 1842 ; and, the hind- holders constitution having been defeated, there was now presented the single issue of the old charter of 1663 on the one hand, and the suffrage constitution, just adopted, as claimed, by the popular vote, on the other. Great enthusiasm was manifested by the triumph which they and their cause had achieved, and meetings and proces sions, with music, badges, bonfires, etc., everywhere proclaimed the event. Chief among the leaders in this remark able revolution, as it was termed, wag Thomas Wilson Dorr, of Providence, a graduate of Harvard College, and who, after pursuing his legal studies in the office of Chancellor Kent, of New York, com menced his professional practice in Provi dence. Though for years a federalist in his political principles, he in time identi fied himself with the victorious party whose leaders were Jackson and Van Buren. Of decided ability, Mr. Dorr was, for several consecutive terms, elected a member of the state legislature, and, in this capacity, he repeatedly proposed measures for extending the privilege of suffrage and other rights of citizenship. Failing in this, and possessing great activity and adroitness as a politician, he appealed to the masses, and was soon the cherished leader of a large and enthusiastic party. Governor King issued his proclamation, pronouncing the movement of the suffrage party treasonable, and warning all of the consequences which a continuance in such acts would bring upon them. Undismayed, however, by these threats, the suffrage party, presuming on its strength and popularity, went into an election of state officers, April eighteenth, 1842, resulting in the elevation of Mr. Dorr to the governorship, together with the other officers constituting the government of the state. The seal of the state was copied, and a fac simile engraving pro cured. Orders, in the form of requests, were issued to the military in Providence and elsewhere, which adhered to the new order of things, to appear in the city on the fourth of May, to perform escort duty on the occasion of organizing the new government. On the day appointed, the officers of the state, elect, under the people s constitu tion, assembled in Providence, for the pur pose of inauguration. The state-house having been refused them, they met in an unfinished building, which was designed as a foundry, and which had been obtained for their use. On this eventful morning, the people began at an early hour to come together, and a large gathering was soon on hand. A procession was formed, and proceeded to the place of meeting, accom panied by a considerable military body. The new legislature was organized in ac cordance with the customary form, and immediately commenced the transaction of business. In proceeding to the place of meeting, the portion of the procession consisting of Dorr and the other members of the government elect, was flanked, on the right and left, by a military guard ; and the guard, as well as all the other mil itary in the procession, were supposed to march with loaded muskets, and furnished with ball cartridges. During the da} , no popular disturbance occurred, and, at night, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 411 all was quiet. A military guard was kept at the place of meeting, during business hours, and at Dorr s quarters. A message was delivered by Governor Dorr, to the people s legislature, in which he gave a history of past events and marked out the course of policy to be pur sued. The message was regarded as bold, firm, and decided in its tone, and dignified in its character. The first legislative act performed, was, the passage of a resolution to inform the president and congress, and the governors of the several states, of the establishment of the new government. A proposition was made by Governor Dorr to take possession of the state-house in Provi dence, and other state property, but this was not adopted, but commissioners were appointed to demand possession of the public records, funds, and other property. Little was done in the way of organizing the various departments of government; but the Algerine Law, as it was called, passed by the charter legislature, and de signed to prevent citizens from engaging in the suffrage party movement, or taking office of any kind in connection with the same, under certain pains and penalties, was solemnly repealed. The courts of law, however, were left unmolested, though all of them were opposed to the new party, and Chief Justice Durfeo was its especial enemy. After a session of three days, the body adjourned to July fourth, at Provi dence. Arriving at Providence, Governor Dorr was received by a large mass of citizens, of whom two or three hundred were armed ; ia an undress uniform, and a sword at his side, the hero of the day was conducted through the principal streets of the city, in an elegant barouche drawn by four white horses. In this triumphal stj le, he proceeded to the house of Burrington Anthony, where he took up his quarters, protected by a military guard, and two small pieces of artillery. Governor Dorr soon issued a proclamation, in which, after stat ing that the president had intimated an intention of resorting to the forces of the United States to check the movements of the people of Rhode Island in support of their republican constitution recently adopted, he, Dorr, declared that, so soon as a soldier of the United States should be set in motion for any such purpose, he should oppose said force by that aid which, he was authorized to say, would be imme diately forthcoming from the city of New York and elsewhere. The military were | enjoined to see that no more arrests were made under the Algerine law, and the militia were directed to hold themselves in readiness for immediate service. Thus, it became evident that the adher ents to the charter and the adherents to the constitution were soon to be brought face to face, force being opposed to force. It was ordered by King and his council that Dorr should be taken, if possible, before the day closed. With this view, expresses were dispatched into all parts of the state, and a steam-boat sent to touch at Newport, Bristol, and Warren, to bring help in behalf of the charter government ; the boat, arriving in the morning, brought a large body of men, who were at once joined to King s forces, and prepared for the field of battle. Some aid also came to Dorr, and the prospect was that a bloody fight would occur. At an early hour, King, with a body of his men, marched into the very midst of the suffrage throng, without molestation, and surrounded Mr. Anthony s house, Dorr s quarters. A detachment then went into the house, but, on searching, Dorr could nowhere be found. He had, it was reported, left town. A portion of the cadets volunteered to go in pursuit of him. They instantly mounted, determined to take him wherever he could be found, but were misinformed as to his route, and returned after having gone in the direction of the Norwich and Worcester railroad, a distance of twenty miles. He felt keenly the result of the arsenal affair, and the ; failure of his forces to come up to the mark. The leaders, on the part of the suffrage party, had dismissed their men, and ad vised them to retire peaceably from the OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1770-1876. ground. A large body left the scene, in compliance with this request. Others were on the ground to a large number, and around the cannons, on the arrival of the body of citizens under King. Many in the suffrage ranks cried out "fire" but there was no attempt in reality to obstruct the passage of King s men in surrounding the house and taking possession of the ground. The landholders, under the di rection of the United States marshal, at the instance of the national authorities, took the guns and arms from the suffrage men as they passed through the streets on their way home. It being pretty generally understood that Dorr had gone to Connecticut, a requisition was made by King upon Gov ernor Cleveland, of that state, for his ren dition, but unsuccessfully. A reward was also offered for the capture of Dorr and his delivery to the charter authorities, for trial on charges of treason. But all this was ineffectual. Indeed, the fugitive rap idly became illustrious out of his own state, to a degree far beyond his experience at home. Meetings of sympathy for him and his cause were held in several of the large cities; and the legislature of Maine, act ing at the suggestion of Governor Fair- field, passed resolutions of a similar spirit. But, notwithstanding the defeat and dis persion of the suffrage forces on the eight eenth of Ma} , and the disappearance of Dorr, no means or efforts were being spared by the latter to rally his friends around him in sufficient numbers to insure a safe return to the state and a reasser- tion of the supremacy of the people s con stitution. In a few weeks, the suffrage friends had entrenched themselves at Alcot s hill, Chepachet, a village in the town of Gloucester, and here, by proclamation from Dorr, the legislature was sum moned to meet on the fourth of July. The expectation was now general, throughout the state, that matters were hourly coming to a final test. In anticipation of this, martial law was declared by King, and every available soldier was at once put into the ranks, soon numbering several thousand. Business was suspended, and the alarming state of things ab sorbed all thought and action. Ma jor General William Gibbs McNeill was in command of the landholders army. Dorr arrived at the encamp ment of his followers, at two oYlo< k in the morning, his forco, however, numbering scarcely one-fourth that of his opponents, though he was well supplied with field-pieces, arms, and ammunition; there were four large mar quees, and some of the men were quartered in a barn. The encampment occupied a fine location, the hill being eighty feet high and commanding the Providence turnpike, for the whole range of cannon. At about half-past four o clock the next morning, General McNeill caused a body of five hundred men, under Colonel W. AY. Brown, to proceed from Greenville to Che pachet, a distance of about eight miles. A scout party of the infantry, of about a dozen men, led by Lieutenant Pitman, kept in advance a half a mile to two miles. They took and sent to the rear, thirty per- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 413 sons, in the coarse of the march, all fugitives from the Che- pachet camp. Upon arriving near the fortification, it was evident that the force had materially decreased; so much so, that the scout party, without waiting for the advance of the main body, determined on entering the forti fication alone. No resistance was made ! The men fled in confusion, and the scout party took possession with out firing a gun. The fortifi cation proved to be quite inade quate for any hostile military operations. The main body immediately arrived, and, the village being now entirely in their power, escape was impos sible, and a large num ber of prisoners were taken, and a FI.NAL WSPEKSIO* OF GOV. UUKK AJSD HIS FOKCKS. considerable quantity of arms. Dorr fled to Connecticut, accompa nied by a few of his soldiers. Governor King offered, again, a large reward for Gov ernor Dorr s capture, but he found safe quar ters in Connecticut and New Hampshire, until he voluntarily re turned. The authorities of the state at once took him into custody, and an indictment for high treason hav ing been found against him, he was tried, and a verdict of guilty being ren dered, lie was sentenced to be impris oned for life. In 1847, however, Hon. Byron Dinman being then governor of the state, Mr. Dorr was pardoned ; and in 1853, during the administration of Governor Allen, the legislature restored 414 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. him to full citizenship, and his friends also caused the official record of his sentence to be expunged. His death occurred the next year, but not until the measures he had espoused were, in good part, engrafted upon the political system of his state, and the party with which he was identified administering its public affairs. Similar, in some of its features, to the rebellion in Rhode Island, was the anti- rent insurrection in the state of New York, the origin and character of which, as set forth by Willard, the historian, will sufficiently appear in the following brief statement : Under the early Dutch government of that state, certain settlers received patents of considerable tracts of land, that of Van Rensselaer being the most extensive, comprising, as it did, the greater portion of Albany and Rensselaer counties These lands were divided into farms of from one hundred to one hundred and sixty acres, and leased in perpetuity on condition that the tenant pay annually, to the landlord or patroon, a quantity of wheat, from twenty-two and a half bushels to ten, with four fat fowls, and a day s service with wagon and horses. If the tenant sold his lease, the landlord was entitled to one quarter of the purchase money. The land lord was also entitled to certain privileges on all water power, and a right to all mines. The summer of 1844 witnessed the most violent disturbances by the anti-rent party in the eastern towns of Rensselaer, and the Livingston Manor in Columbia county. The anti-renters formed themselves into as sociations to resist the law, and armed and trained bands, disguised as Indians, scoured the country, crying "Down with the Rent ! " and, in various ways, intimidating those who favored the execution of the law. In 1840, Silas Wright was chosen governor of the state, and by his wisdom and firmness public order was restored. By proclamation, he declared the locality in which these disorders prevailed, to be in a a state of insurrection ; resolute men were made sheriffs, military force was brought into requisition, and the leading anti-rent ers arraigned for trial. Some of these, convicted of murder, were condemned to death, but their punishment commuted to imprisonment for life. Throughout the whole of this exciting period, there were multitudes who S3 r m path i zed with those who opposed the collection of the rents, but who withheld all countenance from those measures of lawless resistance, to which the more violent resorted. XLVII. MUTINY ON BOARD THE UNITED STATES BRIG-OF-WAR SOMERS, CAPTAIN A. S. MACKENZIE. 1842. Deep-Laid Plot to Seize tlie Vessel, Commit Wholesale Murder of Her Men, Raise the Black Flap, r.nd 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 Ship Raising the Banner of the Cross. "I am leagued to get possession of the vessel, murder the commander and officers, choose from among the crew who are willing to join me such at will be useful, murder the rest, and commence pirating; to attu-k no vessels that I am not sure to capture; to destroy every vestige of the captured vessels; and to select such of the female pawcn- RITS us are suitable, and, after using them sufficiently, to dispose of them." MPEMCID S DECLARATION. fe>*- THE BLACK FLAG. EENLY was the heart of the universal American 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, was no less a person than Midshipman Philip Spen cer, son of the distinguished statesman, Hon. John C. Spencer, of New York, secretary- of-war 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 \)y 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 informed 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 416 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 yon 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, lie 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 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 mone^y, as 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 417 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 lie 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 forecastle. 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 cSf{joj<yf&+~\*^- " I learn, Mr. Spencer, that you aspire to the command of the Somers." "Oh no, sir," replied Spencer, with a deferential, but unmoved and gently smil ing expression. " Did you not tell Mr. Wales, sir, that 27 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 bod} , 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- 418 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. tunately happened that Midshipman Rod- gers was also acquainted with Greek, and, on his converting the characters into En glish, they exhibited well-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 the 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, Captain 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 me, 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 enjoined upon all the officers ; henceforward all were perpetually armed ; ajid 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 of 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 vessel, and an insolent and menacing air assumed by many. Some of the petty officers had been sounded by the 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 the security of the vessel. On receipt of this letter, all the officers assembled in the wardroom and commenced the examination of witnesses. The witnesses were duly 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 419 the officers continued in their occupation a whole day, and the unanimous result of their deliberations was, that Spencer, Cronnvell, 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 my 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 011 and ready for hoisting, Captain Mackenzie put on his full uniform, and proceeded to execute the most painful 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 to 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 unmanned, 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 sult the petty officers; he was condemned, 420 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. I 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 consulted 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-well. Spencer and Cromwell met exactly on GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 421 either 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 ;ip Cromwell now passed on, almost touching Spencer. When Mr. Wales came up, Spencer ex tended his hand to him and said, "Mr. Wales, I 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," exclai med Spencer; and Mr. Wales, weeping, and causing others HANGING OF IUJJGLEADE KS FROM" THE^YAiu>-AnM. to weep, responded "Farewell/" 422 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 that 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 word 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. Captain Mackenzie asked if the} were firing with the lock and wafer, which had always proved quick and sure, but was told that they had a tube and priming, and were prepared to fire with u match. Some delay would have ensued, to open the arm chest and get out a wafer. The captain ordered a supply 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 place ! 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 423 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 crew were 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 which Mackenzie s course was condemned ; but the popular opinion was greatly in his favor. XLVIII. 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 pathlei comet, The menace of the universe; Still rolling on with innate force. Without a uphere, without a course." USUALLY, 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- - | mi. " = 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 corruscations, 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 orer 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 425 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 63^6, 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. Some observers compared it to a small cloud strongly illuminated by the sun. The train was of a paler light r 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 426 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 ivas visible near the sun at mid-day with the naked eye! 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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 427 a narrow streak of cloud, seen through the tree-tops beyond the Potomac. The tail had appeared of gi eat 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 sun 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. At 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 OMET WHEN NEAREST THE EAKTH. 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 428 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 429 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 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 the 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 430 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. ami 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. XLIX. 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-yardi 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. " I confess my error, and acknowledge my disappointment; yet I still believe that the day of the Lord is near, eren at the door." MIL LIE S FINAL WOEDS TO HIS FOLLOWERS. EW men have 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 was familiarly called, founder of the sect called by 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 the extraordinary scenes which characterized that exciting period, participated in THE GREAT DAY PROPHESIED BY THE SECOND ADVENTISTS. 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 432 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 iu the United States army until the declaration of peace, taking a courageous part in the action at Plattsburg, 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 sucli 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 433 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, a company of men standing near him were conversing respecting the wonderful improvements of the day. One of them remarked, that it SYMBOLICAL ILLUSTRATIONS 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 siibmitted ; 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, 28 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 434 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 ninth 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, a 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 435 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 on>, 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 xu. 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 p ress, 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 436 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. was manifested by the promul gators 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 he 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-five days, I shall feel twice the disappointment I did in the spring." AVith 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 mis-statements, 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- la way, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 437 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 his ory. In reviewing these facts and results of 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 438 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, and tasseled, 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 Patmos 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." L. 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 tha 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 tonzne would fail me to express, and my pen to portray, the agonizing heart -throes the mingled wa lings and frenzy of that awful hour." PHK si DENT TYLKR. AKELY 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 fifteeen 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 that most stupendous and beautiful ship ever beheld on the waters of the Potomac. STOCKTON S GREAT GUN, "THE PEACEMAKER." 440 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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 Cooper, 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 Hags 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 neaml 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-witness 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 spot GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 441 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 all around. The lower part of the gun, from the trunnions to the breech, 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 tary 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 readied 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 ! 44l> OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Reed, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 443 EXPLOSION OF THE GREAT GUN 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 l>e worked, to show the ease and precision with which her direc tion could he changed, and then pointed down the river to make the fire himself and the gunners standing near the hreech 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 444 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Hash and the tire 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 his 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 1113- 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 convej ed to my beloved and devoted wife the assurance that she GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 445 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. Before the bodies were removed from the executive mansion, religious services were performed by Rev. 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 coffins 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 446 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, Rodman, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 447 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 be 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. LI. TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF FREE POPULAR EDUCATION.- 1844. 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 (.liven to the Work. Prog ress and Results. 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 Vicing with 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 (Irants in Aid of the Cause. Government Bureau at Washington. (irand Aim and Seope. Standard of Eernale Instruction liaised.- 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 in the U. S. Some 8,000,000 Common School Pupils. " No nition can expect to prosper if the education of the people be neglected." GEOKOK WASHIKOTOX. HE present year may be said to complete the period and exhibit the re sults 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, h no comprehensive system of national education, under national /v~ A //cf-v..~ 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 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- I III HCHIMI K AS IT WAC certain places for the laity also. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 449 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 an 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 schoolmaster 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 1 " to y e 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 e VALE COLLEGE IX 17*4. OLD KIXt years ayo 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, 29 = -_ ; - FIRST HARVARD COLLEGE. parents or masters of such children, or by y e 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 450 OUR FIRST CENTURY 177G-1876. oppressed by paying much more y n they can liave y ra 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 put in operation by legislative ordinance. NORT H-W K8TE11N UNI V EKSIT V. 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. Rhode 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 wore 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 has GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 451 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 da3 s, 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 ; FOR THE TRAINING OF TEACHERS. school-house of " y e 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 man, 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 choo e 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 452 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-187G. 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 lie 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, lie 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 Te>tament, 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 n- wspapcr 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 453 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 same, 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 IX YALE COLLEGE OUOUXDS. appl} , 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 contributions 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 up in barbarism, ignorance and vagrancy, and the exercise of the elective franchise, or of any public officer, to be conditioned on the ability of the applicant to read under- standingly the Constitution and laws. Of free public education for females, it may he 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 454 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. been established, under legislative auspices, in a large number of the status, 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, Yule, and Columbia (or King s) colleges are the most ancient and cele brated in America, and ma} 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 IGoO. 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- VIEW IX HARVARD COLLEGE GROrNDS. 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 thousind, 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- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. cent scale upon which all enterpr ses 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, part} , or de nomination, the various Christian bodies of almost every name, in fact, being repre sented Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Congregationalist, Roman Catholic, Cliris- tian, Universalist, Unitarian, Episcopalian, Lu heran, &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 for.-ver 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 profes>ions 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. LII. DISCOVERY OF THE INHALATION OF ETHER AS A PRE VENTIVE OF PAIN. 1846. Performance of Surgical Operations Involving the Intensest Torture, During the Happy Unconscious 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 Case* "Thoeht the Deil had a Grip o her!" Odd Talk of an Innocent Damsel. Old Folks Wanting to Dance Awards to the Discoverers. The fierce entremltf of suffering has been steeped In the waters of forgetlulness, and the deepest furrow In the knotted brow of agony has been smoothed forever." PHOT. O. W. UoLMBt. 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- RELIEVIJfO PAT* BY TITE USE OF ETHER. leSS, wllO, ill tl)6 Opening of llis 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 that this growth should be removed. The man that never feared death in its most ghastly 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 457 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 was 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 was 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 nlle- 458 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 amesthetic 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. Ho RACE WE us THE THREE CLAIMANTS OF THE DISCOVERY OF PAINLESS SURGERY, BY ETHER. hazardous to the patient. And an emi nent physiologist expressed the doubt whether there were a true advantage in suppressing pain. " It is a trivial mat ter," aaid 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 459 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- iny the knife over the delicate skin of the face might produce a sensation of un mixed delight! that the turning and ticisting of instruments in the most sensi tive bladder might be accompanied l)>j 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 excmcia- 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 urifrequently 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 shor.k 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. Ha3 r ward. In his own narration of the circum stances of this deeply interesting and most important occasion, Dr. Hay ward 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 460 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 openings 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. Hay ward 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. Hay ward 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 mouth-piece 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 flap. 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 was 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 " tliodit the deil had a gripo* 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 461 off as the din of ordnance. Sometimes, in youth, the dream has 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 w r alks, 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 lixed, 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 doivn." 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 says 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 4G2 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 be drew" 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 ETHER. minute. Upon opening her eyes, she exclaimed, "I have seen all my friends; they were en gaged in spinning and don t I hear their wheels now, sure?" She said it appeared to her as though she had been absent many munths. She recol lected that she went home in a steam vewel, 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, littie effect was produced, but after some min utes, the patient fell backwards, as in a swoon. The operator w r as then about to proceed; but the man immediately ob- GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 463 jected, saying 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." lt 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 very 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- drums 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. LIII. INVENTION OF THAT WONDROUS PIECE OF MECHANISM, THE SEWING-MACHINE. 1346. 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 Kfforts 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 oil admired. Ami each Imw he to bt the inventor misted. Bo plain it neemrd oni-e found which yet un-found. Moat would Imvt thought impossible." 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 THB INVENTOR TOILING IN HIS GARUET. modern scwi iig-machi ne, consists in the use of two threads, one being fed by a needle, and the other GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 465 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 under 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, witb 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. This machine worked upon cloth as many as sixty similar figures or flowers at the same time ; the whole 30 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 his 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 466 OUK FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S76. " 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 upon 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 months 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 was legally and irreversibly established, the judge deciding that there was no evidence 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 Ellis, shows a man of marked personal appearance and striking natural endowments. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 467 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 vibrat 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, Walter 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 perfect!} . 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 \>y 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 end of which passes through the cloth; the 468 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1770-1876. THE OLD AND NEW: SEWING BY HAND AND MACHINE. noodle 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 469 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, trying 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 Singer s mind that lie 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 New York, taking immediate steps to secure a patent. It brought him, in a feiv 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 Finkle 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 tire 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 the 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 tired of playing at sewing, she 470 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. could change her foot to the other pedal, open the nu-lodeon 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 \veek ; 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-live 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 471 same ratio to the estimated amount of this branch of business in the United States, the total would reach the sum of sevent}^- five million dollars. All 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. LIT. SPIRITUAL KNOCKINGS AND TABLE-TIPPINGS. 1847. 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 Mappings in Ilydesville, 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. Knoukings 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 diapose of another man s facts, nor allow him to dispose of mine." EMERSOW. OCHESTER, N. Y., one of the most beautiful and thriving of Ameri can inland cities, lias long borne the celebrity which attaches to what are now known, the world over, as " spiritual manifesta- fj^y^,,... , tions," knot-kings, rappings, ta- -. ble-movings, spirit communica- HOUSE IX WHICH SPIRITUAL RAPPIXGS ORIGINATED. tioilS, aild till! like. But ill 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 physico-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, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 473 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 searcli 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 I). 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 tico 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 ivas the spirit of a peddle) who had 474 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1876. 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, his 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 w r as 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 475 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 3 T oung 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 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 maybe 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, Rev. 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, 476 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 177G-1S76. 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. Suftice 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. Ballon 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 man} 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 477 away with the Bible, to overthrow Chris- tianitj , 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 on 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. V. HATCH. A. J. DAVIS. JUDGE 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 Ballon, 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 Swedenborg 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 by 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 478 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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. LV. VOYAGE OF THE UNITED STATES SHIP JAMESTOWN, WITH A CARGO OF FOOD FOR THE STARVING IN IRELAND. 1847. Famine, Pestilence, Woe and Death Sweep Frightfully Over That Land. Appeal to the Sympathy of Nations. The Tale of Horror Borne Across the Atlantic. Spontaneous Generosity of America. A Ship-of-War Converted Into a Ship of Peace, and Laden with Free Gifts for the Suffering. Total Failure of the Potato Crop. A Universal Scourge. Disease Added to Destitution. Ghastly Scenes on every Side. Multitudes Perish in the Streets. Parliament Grants $50,000,000. The Message of Humanity. America s Read} Bounties. Use of the Jamestown Granted. Food Substituted for Guns. Interesting Bill of Lading. Departure from Boston. Enthusiastically Cheered Only Fif teen Days Passage. Going up the Harbor of Cork. Throngs of Famished Spectators. Tumultu ous Greetings on Arrival. Public Welcomes and Honors. A Tour of Inspection. Indescribable Horrors. Distribution of the Cargo. The Mission a Great Success. " And thou, mighty ship, built by man to destroy, Thou, the flrt of thy race, bear *! an errand of joy." WING to the failure of the potato crop in Ireland, in the year 1846, a great famine fell upon that unfortunate land, and, during that and the succeeding year, thousands perished with hunger. Notwithstanding the successive grants of relief made by parliament, amounting in the aggregate to fifty millions of dollars, together with the munificence of the wealthy, desti tution, famine, and disease pervaded almost the entire population. Such, indeed, was the fearful mortality in some of the towns ? that one-third of the inhabitants fell victims, their corpses being found, in frequent instances, lying in the streets, uncoffined and unknown. As illustrating the frightful character and circumstances distinguishing this scourge, one of the official visitors to these scenes of woe states that on entering one of the famine hovels in Kennare, he found five or six of the inmates lying in fever, huddled together on the damp and cold ground, with scarce a wisp of straw under them ; in another cabin, four or five unfor tunate beings, just risen from fever, crouched over a small pot of sea-weed boiling on the fire, that one of them had crawled to the shore to collect for their dinner. An equally ghastly case was that of a poor fellow, whose mother lay beside him dead two days; he was burning with rage to think she should have come to such an end, as to die of starv ation. But a more distressing object still, was SCENE OF MisEiiY DuiuNo THE FAMINE. that of a. sick mother, beside whom lay a child 480 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. dead, for the twenty-four hours previous ; two others lay close by, just expiring, and, to add to the horrors of the sight, a fam ished cat got upon the bed, and was only prevented by timely intervention from gnawing the corpse of the deceased infant. Perhaps the spread and extent of this calamity can be best comprehended by the manner in which it affected the Cork dis trict. In the year 1840, under the law for the relief of the poor, a work-house was provided in Cork, sufficient to meet the wants of some two thousand persons, and, until the year 1845, such accommodation was abundant. In 1846, however, things began to alter, when the destruction of the potato crop began to be experienced. Soon, the work-house filled to overflowing. Additional buildings were erected they too were filled. Accommodation was then provided for twelve, and subsequently for eighteen hundred people, in the neighbor hood of the work-house. Every incli of space was occupied, so soon as it was avail able ; and yet the applicants for admission crowded pantingly at the doors. They were not repelled until more than five thousand and three hundred human beings were crowded into a space originally meant to receive two thousand. As a necessary consequence, a pestilence was generated, which destroyed life to an extent unheard of and still the admissions went on! The vacancies created by death or other wise, were immediately filled, by eager applicants, who, in their turn, and speed ily, fell beneath the stroke of death. And this pestilence, though of course raging fiercest within the work-house, was not confined to its precincts and beneficiaries; the guardians, chaplains, and physicians, all shared in the visitation of the destroyer, and the attendant frightful mortality. It was a matter of inevitable necessity, to crowd the fever patients together so thickly, that they were forced to lie three and four in one bed ; and frequently it was necessary to administer the last consola tions to the dying, in the very bed in which lay a corpse. When it was thus in a public institution supported and regulated by law, imagination can readily picture the scenes in those dreary cabins of the poor that cover the land. But the picturings of the imagination merely, may well be spared, in view of the gaunt array of awful facts which make up this tragedy of human woe. Having placed the miseries of Cork in the foreground of this brief narrative, some reference is like wise due to the condition of those districts which, being mountainous and largely populated, were exposed to a peculiar intensity of privation, and of consequent suffering. Among these districts and it furnishes simply a type of all the others which might be cited, did space permit, was that of Kilworth, which comprises that very extensive range of upland, known as the Kilworth mountains, and the small extent of low hind attached to it. Out of a total population of nine thousand and eight hundred souls, there were at one time over seven thousand in the greatest state of misery and distress, and, of these, five thousand had not, unless given them, a single meal with which to satisfy their hunger. This arose, as in the other dis tricts, from the total failure of the potato, upon which the people solely relied, to gether with the additional misfortune of an unproductive oat crop. Some were found dead in the fields, others dropped down dead by the side of the roads, and multi tudes expired in their miserable cabins from cold, hunger, and nakedness. Only now and then was any coroner called, the deaths being too numerous to admit of formal investigation into each. At one of the inquests, however, it appeared that a poor man named James Carthy, in the last stage of weakness and exhaustion, having been given a small quantity of meal took it home, where his unfortunate wife was confined to her bed of straw by want and fever. Having made a fire, he attempted to cook some stir-about, but his strength failed him; he grew giddy, and fell with his face into the fire. The poor wife perceiving that he could not extricate himself, in vain attempted to leave her bed to assist him. She had not GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 481 the strength to move. She heard the crackling of the fire, and she saw her hus band writhe and expire. The effect upon her mind and body was too much for her .to bear, and, in just an hour afterwards, she also was a corpse. Such instances as this, of terrible individual suffering, were not at all peculiar or rare. Every day furnished its sad tales, and the living heard, and endeavored to drive from their minds, as soon as they could, the horrify ing particulars that were related. And now it was, that, in the midst of her four-fold horrors of destitution, pesti lence, famine, and death, the cry of poor Ireland, appealing to the charity of nations and of individuals, winged itself across the Atlantic, and enlisted the generous sympa thies of fair Columbia. On the twenty- second of February, 1847, certain Boston merchants petitioned congress to lend one of the national ships-of-war, for the pur pose of carrying to Ireland a cargo of pro visions ; and on the third day of March, the last stormy day of the session, when the attention of every mind in congress was taken up in the discussion of momen tous questions pertaining to finance and war, the people of the United States, be it said to their honor, voted through their representatives, the loan of the frigate Macedonian to Captain George C. DeKay, of New Jersey, and the loan of the sloop- of-war Jamestown to Captain Robert Ben nett Forbes ; and by a joint resolution of both houses of congress, the president and the secretary of the navy were authorized to send these vessels at the expense of the United States, or to put them into the hands of the gentlemen named, for the purpose indicated. The secretary of the navy, Hon. John Y. Mason, in view of the demand for all the resources of the gov ernment to carry on operations against Mexico, chose the latter alternative. Much credit was due to the efforts of Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, in congress, for this favorable result. In view of the splendid success which, from first to last, attended this grand national charity, in connection especially 31 with the voyage of the Jamestown under the gallant and honored Forbes, this sketch will detail the circumstances attending the career of that noble pioneer ship and her distinguished commander, deviating as little as possible from the official narrative. Five days after the passage of the resolu tion of congress, the secretary of the navy ordered Commodore Parker, of the Charles- town navy yard, to prepare the Jamestown by the removal of her armament, and deliver her to Captain Forbes. This order came to hand on the eleventh of March, and on the seventeenth, being St. Patrick s day, the Laborers Aid Society," of Bos ton, composed principally, if not entirely, of poor Irishmen, put their hands and minds to the holy work, and in the course of that day, one-seventh part of the cargo was stowed away ; and by the twenty- seventh, notwithstanding the interruption by bad weather, the ship was full, drawing nearly twenty feet, and having, with her stores, about eight thousand barrels bulk, of provisions, grain, meal, etc., on board, the voluntary, free and hearty contribu tions, from all classes and sects, to the suffering people of Ireland, all intrusted to the care of one of the truest men and most skillful nautical commanders in all America. The cargo thus in readiness, was in voiced as "provisions, breadstuffs, and clothing, shipped by the Boston relief committee, on board the United States Skip of Peace, Jamestown, R. B. Forbes commander, and to him consigned." As such a bill of lading, purely in the inter ests of international charity, was probably never before identified with the history of a government naval vessel, the record of its contents may well have a place in these pages, to gratify the laudable curiosity of the humane. But even this constitutes but a portion the first shipment only of the gifts of the citizens of New England and the United States, namely : four hun dred barrels pork; one hundred tierces hams; six hundred and fifty-five barrels corn meal ; two thousand five hundred and one bags ditto, of one-half barrel each ; 482 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. four hundred aud seventy-five bags ditto, of sixty pounds each; two hundred and sixty bags ditto, of one-quarter barrel each ; one thousand four hundred and fifty-two bags ditto, of one-eighth barrel each ; one thousand four hundred and ninety-six bags northern corn, one thousand three hundred and seventy-five barrels of bread, three hundred and fifty-three barrels beans, eighty-four barrels peas, eight hundred empty bags. The items thus enumerated pertain to the Boston contributions sent by the Jamestown ; the remaining schedule of articles embraces gifts from other towns in New England, namely : five hundred COKJJ FOR THE LAND OK WANT AND WOK. and thirty-three barrels of corn, one-half barrel of pork, eighteen barrels corn meal, one-half barrel oatmeal, ten barrels oat meal, eighty-four barrels potatoes, one bag ditto, five hundred and forty-seven bags corn, one barrel flour, one barrel rye, ten bags rye, one box rye, one barrel oats, one box oats, three bags wheat, one tierce dried apples, three tierces beans, one bag beans, six boxes fish ; two hundred bags meal, one-eighth barrel each; one-half barrel meal, sixteen barrels clothing, one- half-barrel ditto, nine boxes ditto, two bundles ditto; fifty barrels flour, one-half barrel ditto, one hundred ditto rice, fifty barrels corn meal, two barrels bread, sixty barrels beans, one-half barrel ditto, four barrels peas, four boxes clothing. This was the bill of lading which cov ered the freight of the Jamestown, that ark of charity, commissioned, by a nation possessed at the time of but few ships of war, and at that very moment engaged in a contest requiring all her disposable naval force, to proceed to the city of Cork. The last time the Avar-flag of America floated in the British seas was in 1812. England and the United States were then in hostile collision. But in every encoun ter of the latter power, in the guardianship of her rights and the defense of her honor, she showed that irrepressible character which belongs to an energetic nation once fairly roused; and, notwithstanding all the unfavorable circumstances of a hurried organization, defective vessels, wretched equipment, and want -of arsenals, docks, system, combination, trained officers, and naval discipline, England had never be fore met with an enemy so destructive to her trade as America proved. During tin- first two years of privateering that fol lowed the declaration of war, many hun dred sail of British merchantmen were captured. But now, all this is changed and reversed. An American war vessel is sent to cruise up the Irish channel, but it is on a cruise of mercy; though a "vessel of wrath," fitted for the work of destruc tion, she has been disarmed, and converted into a ministering messenger of succor to the famished. She bears no secret and spying orders, but her mission is open as day. Her caliber can be estimated from the weight she bears of corn not can non ; her discharges are not to be of " iron rain," but to descend in peaceful manna. In a word, she goes laden with food to those who are ready to perish ; and, having consummated her great work, and having achieved a nobler triumph than ever yet crowned the most successful ship of prey and blood, she will return with no red- dyed pennon flaunting from her mast-head, but, rather, with the grateful esteem and affectionate attachment of one of the most GEEAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 483 warm-hearted people on the face of the globe, and with the gracious smile and blessing of heaven. On the twenty-seventh of March, Cap tain Forbes gave a receipt for the ship and her apparel, etc., the officers of the navy yard having rigged her while the cargo was being received. The outfit was very complete, and on Sunday, March twenty-eighth, at half-past eight o clock in the morning, the ship cast off, amid the hearty cheers and fervent prayers of the assembled crowd, and made sail on her course. At three o clock, the noble ship had passed the Highlands of Cape Cod, and was fairly launched on the broad Atlantic, on a voyage full of hope and pleasure. Forbes, the large-hearted, brave and skillful commander whose time and services for the expedition were a free-will offering to the cause of humanit}^ said that it was to him a day full of mingled emotions of satisfaction, unalloyed by any unhappy feeling, save that momentary and easily forgiven weakness that comes over a man when parting from his family ! Grand, noble-hearted Forbes ! Thus auspiciously under way, the ship of peace, though three feet or more deeper than her usual man-of-war trim, sailed and worked admirably, and although her crew proved very light and not altogether effi cient, she sped on successfully, crossed the Banks in forty-three and one-half degrees, against the will of her navigators, with south, south-east, and southerly winds, and a dense fog, the thermometer varying several degrees in the air and water, indi cating the proximity of ice, and after a succession of rainy, dirty weather, and variable winds, the good bark cast anchor in Cork, outer harbor, on the twelfth of April, exactly fifteen days and three hours from the navy yard at Charles town, with out having lost a rope yarn. The Jamestown was very soon visited by Lieutenant Commanding Protheroe, of her majesty s flag-ship, the Crocodile, under Rear Admiral Sir Hugh Pigot, who came to say that everything would be done, within the admiral s power, to expe dite the delivery of the cargo, and for the dispatch of the ship on her return to the United States. Intimation was accord ingly given, that the timely aid of a steamer would be very acceptable, to take the ship to the government warehouses at Haulbowline. Unfortunately, no steamer, belonging to the public service, was just then at Cork or Cove, and it was therefore necessary to wait patiently until Tuesday afternoon, when the steam sloop Geyser was expected to arrive ; but just after the Jamestown had weighed anchors, in prep aration, and no steamer coming, the Sabrina, Captain Parker, came along, she being a packet running, and then bound, to Bristol. Captain Parker shaved the ship s stern so close as to take off her spanker- boom, and hailing, asked the commander if he wished to be towed up ; a hearty affirmative was the response. The Sabrina forthwith towed her honored consort up to the government stores at Haulbowline, opposite the town of Cove, and seven or eight miles below the city of Cork, forming a truly beautiful harbor. Meanwhile, the tidings of the approach of the good ship, with her rich and weighty freight of food for the perishing, was spread far and wide, and many were they who watched anxiously from the shore, the form of that noble craft as she passed along, and which was now their only hope. Even before the anchor had fairly bitten the soil, a deputation of the citizens of Cove, consisting of all parties in politics and all creeds of religion, waited on Cap tain Forbes, with an address of welcome, to which he promptly and handsomely responded. The Cove Temperance Band came and remained on board all day, dis coursing sweet music, Yankee Doodle and Lucy Long being performed with especial frequency and vim. A plenty of men came from the Crocodile to assist in weighing the ship s anchors, and at night the town of Cove was illuminated. As the Jamestown passed up the harbor in tow of the packet, she received the cheers of thou sands who lined the hills and quay, and innumerable ladies waved their handker- 484 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. v\ ARRIVAL OF THE JAMESTOWN AT CORK. chiefs in token of delight. When parting with Captain Parker and his very service able packet, the crew and passengers of the latter joined in a rousing salute to the American visitors, which was answered heartily and lustily from the Jamestown as well as from the assembled throng. On Wednesday, the fourteenth, the work of discharging the cargo into the government warehouses commenced, with out any form of entry or detention other wise. Captain Forbes called on the United States consul, noted his protest, and then went to Cork in company with that good and great man, Theobald Mathew, and his brother ; was by him introduced to the collector, and to other gentlemen of note, and had a very warm reception from all. On Thursday, the fifteenth of April, the citizens of Cove invited Captain Forbes to a banquet. The brilliant company assem bled at six o clock, and, after the usual regular toasts, The Queen, and Prince Albert and the Royal Family, the chair man, Hon. Mr. Power, introduced the health of the guest, with some flattering encomiums on the generosity of the people of New England ; these courtesies were acknowledged by Captain Forbes, in a speech which elicited unbounded applause. Great harmony and enthusiasm prevailed, all classes in politics and religion in the town uniting to do honor to the occasion and the guest, for the name of FORBES had everywhere become a household word of honor and admiration, such as any prince of the kingdom might envy. An invitation having been extended to Captain Forbes to meet the Temperance Institute at Cork, on the nineteenth, the institute of which Father Mathew was both parent and president, Captain Forbes accepted the same. The occasion was one specially made for an expression of gratitude to the people of America. In consequence of the distress out of doors, the regular soirees had been omitted ; but at this time the hall was beautifully orna mented with the flags of England, Ire land, and the United States, and an accomplished choir discoursed Yankee Doodle, Lucy Long, Jim Crow, Hail Columbia, and sundry national Irish mel odies. The chairman and others presented eloquent addresses, the ladies clapped their gentle hands, and their kerchiefs waved welcome and gratitude to America. Captain Forbes made a brief reply, in which he told the ladies, that, having vis ited Blarney Castle and kissed the stone, he had a great deal to say, but found his feelings too much excited to admit of his saying much. Father Mathew, after having had his health proposed, made a short and feeling address, appropriately conveying to the people of America, the expressions of deep and heartfelt thankfulness, " more for the sentiment of remembrance than for the intrinsic value of the gifts." The GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 485 ladies having been presented to Captain Forbes, that gallant sailor was ever after wards ready to vouch for the fact, that the ladies of Cork do shake hands like men / no formal touching of the ends of the fin gers, chilling the heart, but a regular grip of feeling. It was at this assembly also, that the commander of the James town was presented by some of the city artists with a finely executed likeness of that ship, representing her as she ap peared just after the Sabrina had cast off the tow ropes, and a few moments before the anchor was dropped at the government dock-yard. From the ladies, too, Captain Forbes was the recipient of numerous poetical effusions laudatory of the James town s humane mission, and they presented him with some choice specimens of their handywork, to carry as souvenirs to his home. On Wednesday, the twenty-first of April, twenty-four days after leaving Boston, the cargo was out and the ship ready for sea. On that day, Captain Forbes was " at home " to the ladies and gentlemen of Cork and Cove, by special invitation, from twelve to three. The company assembled, in large numbers, and an entertainment, sui generis, was pro vided by the host. Knowing that it would be impossible for him to give such a multitude a feast, and, indeed, not de siring to do so in a time of famine, Cap tain Forbes nevertheless determined to give them something appropriate, and accordingly displayed on the table a barrel of best American bread, in the cask, flanked on each side by a huge piece of Fresh Pond ice, which latter the host declared was manufactured expressly for the occa sion on the twenty-fifth of March. These principal ingredients were helped out with a plenty of ice water, iced lemonade, with a little sprinkling of champagne and bread (baked on board but rivaling the best), to say nothing of a box of Boston gingerbread, which the ladies partook of sparingly, but carried away with them in dainty bits, to show at home what could be done in Yankee land. The temperance band played some of their choicest airs, and, previous to breaking up, the ladies, with their red-coated and blue-coated part ners, sported the light fantastic toe, on the spotless decks of the noble ship. Among the deputations from the dif ferent municipalities received by Captain Forbes, was a special one from the citizens of Cork, who delivered to him a banner for presentation to the city of Boston. This was accompanied by an address couched in the most appropriate language of personal and public gratitude. Indeed, the praises of free, happy, generous America, were sounded by every tongue. The arrangements made by Captain Forbes for the distribution of the cargo were with a committee of gentlemen of the very highest character and represent ing all shades of politics and all creeds in religion, thus guaranteeing that the seed would be sown to good account both in the hearts and stomachs of the poor Irish, as well as in the remembrance of the better- off classes. That the necessities of Ire land at this time were not at all exagger ated by the cry and wassail that went forth from her bosom, into the ears of the civilized world, Captain Forbes fully affirms from his personal routine of ob servation. He states that, in company with Father Mathew, he went, on a cer tain day, only a few steps out of one of the principal streets of Cork, into a lane ; it was more than the valley of the shadow of death, it was the valley of death and pestilence itself. Enough was to be seen in five minutes to appall the stoutest heart hovels crowded with the sick and dying, without floors, without furniture, and with beds of dirty straw covered with still more filthy shreds and patches of humanity ; some called for water to Father Mathew, and others for a dying blessing. From this very small sample of the pre vailing destitution, the visitors proceeded to a public soup kitchen, under a shed, guarded by police officers ; here a large boiler containing rice, meal, and so forth, was at work, while hundreds of specters stood without, begging for some of this soup, which Captain Forbes did not hesi- 486 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. tate afterwards to declare would be refused by well-bred pigs in his own country ! With reference to the last observation, however, it may be remarked that it was made with not the least disrespect to the benevolent who provided the means and who ordered the ingredients. Indeed, the demand for immediate relief was so great, that, if the starving could be kept alive, it was all that could be expected. The energies of the poor had become so cramped and deadened by want and suf fering of every type, that they cared only for sustenance, and they were unable to earn it ; crowds flocked in from the coun try to the city, and the hospitals and jails and poor-houses were full to overflowing, the numbers that died daily simply mak ing room for those who were soon also to die. Every corner of the streets was filled with pale, care-worn creatures, the weak leading and supporting the weaker, women assailing the passer-by at every turn, with famished babes, imploring alms and woe to the man who gave to them ! Captain Forbes himself tried it ! He gave six pences, with which to the extent of a pound sterling he had provided himself ; occa sionally, as pursued with Father Mathew in company, he cast a sixpence back to the crowd, and like the traveler who was pur sued by hungry wolves, and who threw out a little something to distract their attention, the captain passed on at a quicker pace until protection could be found from the heart-rending appeals of the poor creatures, by going into a store and finally escaping by the back door; they, however, finding the man who thus had silver to give, unearthed, renewed the pursuit, and he finally took shelter on board a steamer. At half-past three, of the afternoon of April twenty-second, the Jamestown started from Cork, in tow of her majesty s steamer Zephyr, on her return voyage, which she accomplished by the fifteenth of May, after an absence of seven weeks and one hour from the navy yard, during which time there were resting upon her the best wishes and prayers of millions, and it seemed as if heaven particularly smiled upon the noble vessel, in her speedy passage out and her safe return. The mission must always be regarded as one of the grandest events in the history of nations, one of the noblest charities on record. In token of their gratitude and esteem, the people of Cork and its vicinity presented to Captain Forbes a large and massy salver of solid silver, measuring thirty inches in length by twenty in breadth, a rich and most beauti ful piece of workmanship, valued at nearly one thousand dollars, and inscribed as follows : Presented to Robert Bennett Forbes, Esq., of Boston, United States, by the Inhabitants of the County and City of Cork, Ireland, in acknowledgment of his philanthropic mission to their country, and successful exertions for the relief of their suffering fellow country men during the fearful famine of 1846-7, when, mainly through the instrumen tality of Captain Forbes, large supplies of food, the voluntary contributions of the inhabitants of the United States, more particularly of New England, were carried to Ireland in the United States ships-of-war Jamestown and Macedonian (the former granted to him personally by the American Government, although en gaged in a Mexican war), the Reliance and Tartar, and distributed amongst a starving and grateful people. Accom panying this magnificent piece of plate, was a Memorial Address, inclosed in a splendidly ornamental frame, representing the Irish Harp, and surmounted by the American Eagle, the Irish and American Flags, and a figure of the Jamestown, all appropriately grouped. LVI. OENERAL 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 thii army, after many glorious victories, haa hoisted the flag of our country in the Capital of Mex- ico, and on the Palace of its Government." GKNKKAL SCOTT TO HIS AUJIV, SEPTEMBER 14th. PjHIEFLY, 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 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, iresh troubles soon succeeded, arising from the disputed question of y boundary. Mexico claimed to the Neuces, and the United States ^ to the Rio Grande del Norte. Santa Anna, then at the head of Mexican affairs, insisted on the vigorous assertion of Mexico s .V. 488 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 the siege of Fort Brown, the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Pal ma, the fall of Monterey, the battle of Muena Vista, Doniphan s expedition to Chihuahua and inarch of five thousand mil.-s, the reduction of Vera Cruz, the bat tles of Cerro Gordo, Contreras, and Chu- rubusro, the storming of Chapultepec, and the entrance of Scott into the halls of the Montexiinias, as the conqueror of the enemy s chief rity, the first instance of a foreign < ,y,;/,,/ being entered by the army <>f the United States. The latter event, and tin- battln of Buena Vista, formed the ni"-t 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 wa equally a matter of indifference the terms of adjustment must be ar ranged by gunpoivder. 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 i notice it, and General Wool was deputed GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 489 to meet the representative of Santa Anna, and to say to him that v hat was " wanted " was peace. Before the interview could be had, the Mexicans treacherously re-opened their fires. The flag, however, had accom 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 hiirled 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 490 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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, Resaca de la Pal ma, 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 Molino 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 were GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 491 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 out 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 4<>L ) OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 493 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 ivith 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 immensely 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. LYII. 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 Fate of Former Explorers. Temperature of This Sea. Submerged Plains at Its Bottom. Sheeted with Phosphorescent Foam. Topography, Width and Depth. " Apples of Sodom " Described. The Pillar of Salt, Lot s Wife. " But here, above, around, below, In mountain or in glen. Nor tree, nor shrub, nor flower. Nor aught of vegetative power, The wearied eye may ken ; But all its rocke at random thrown, Black waves, bare crags, and heaps of iton*." ELDING 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, K. Aulick ; herbarist, Francis E. Lynch ; master s mate, J. C. Thomas ; navigators, Messrs. Overstock, Williams, Homer, Read, Robinson, 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 495 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 he 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, under Mount Carrnel, 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 voluntarily 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 scour the region. The waters of 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 496 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 i>hui<ls from the sea, with the billows heaving at their bases. The rough peaks caught the slanting sunlight, while sharp Mark 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 by a pule 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 497 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 VALLEY 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 says 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 Arnmon, on the eastern shore of the sea. 32 the danger increased, they kept away for the northern shore, in the hope of being yet able to reach it, their arms, clothes 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 498 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 can venture upon this sea and live, and the sad 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. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 499 writers, are peculiar to this locality. The plant is a perennial, specimens of which have been found froir 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 other 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. LVIII. 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. Sutler 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 Stabiliiy Reached. Population in 1867, 600,000. Gold in Ten Years, 600,000,000. * Gold to fttch. nd gold to crnd, Oold to borruw. and gnh\ to lend. Gold to kwp. nnd (told to epnd. And abundance of fold inj ITHOUT any exaggeration, it 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, on 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 Republic. This discovery occurred at Slitter 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 <>r I:K. vnoxs IN CALIFORNIA. discovery just mentioned. The GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 501 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 in 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, 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 in 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. 502 OUK FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 live 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 are 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 countrv, as a whole, is fertile ; producing readily grains, vegetables, and fruits, with tine timber, whilst immense pasture grounds afford nourishment to the flocks and herds that once formed the principal wealth of Cali fornia. Up to the year 1847, so comparatively small were the gatherings of gold, in various sections of the globe, that in BtTTTHR S MILL, WHKBK OOLD WAS F1BST DISOOYKBKD, IN 1848. GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 503 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 jjractical 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, lie 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, Jul} r 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 colon} 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 504 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 lie had a thousand acres sown in wheat, and owned eight thousand neat cattle, two 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 Slitter 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. Jfoir big with events was tliis 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 lirst 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 icas made! The account given above agrees sub stantially with Captain Slitter s own narrative of the event, namely : That M;irshall 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, ho gathered some of the sparkling objects; GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 505 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, he 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 he 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 Sutters 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 the 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 506 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. 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 Calif ornian 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-live thousand arrived in the nine thousand wagons that traversed the over land route, and four thousand on mule- back, while the remainder came rin 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 GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 507 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 ! LIX. ASTOR PLACE OPERA-HOUSE RIOTS, NEW YORK. 1849. Terrible Culmination of the Feud Between Macready, the English Star Actor, and Forrest, the Great American Tragedian. Macready Commences to Perform, but is Violently Driven from the Stage. A Mob of Twenty Thousand Men Surrounds the Theater, and Thunders at its Doors. Attempt to Fire and Destroy the House Charge of the Military. Lamentable Loss of Life. Fame of these Great Actors. Their Former Mutual Friendship. Macready s Tour in this Country. Forrest Performs in Europe. Professional Jealousies Aroused. Open Rupture at Last. Macready Again in America. Engages to Play in New York. Opposition to Him There. Appears on the Stage, May 8th. Fierce Tumult in the House. Groans, Hisses, Insults. He Stands Undismayed. Flight of the Audience. Re-appearance, May 10th. The House Filled to the Dome. Riotous Yells and Cries. " Down with the British Hog ! " Heroic Demeanor on the Stage. Threats of the Raging Mob. Its Bloody Dispersion. Macready Leaves the Country. " It often fall* In course of common life. That right lout? lirnc U overborne of wronff ; But justice, tho her doom Rite doth prolong, Yet. at the Itut, nhe will her own cause right" ROFESSIONAL rivalry, based principally upon circumstances arising from different nationality, had gradually produced feelings of deep personal antagonism between Mr. Edwin Forrest, con fessedly the greatest of American tragedians, and Mr. W. C. Macready, the most brilliant and powerful actor upon the English stage; and this alienation was shared in a still greater degree of intensity by the numerous friends and partisans of the respective individuals, finally culminating in a tragedy of blood and de<th that shook New York to its center and engrossed the attention of America and Europe alike. Mr. Forrest and his friends complained chiefly of Mr. Macready s conduct in his own country, in relation to Mr. Forrest, during the visit of the latter to England, in 1844, his inhospitality, his crushing influence, his vindictive opposition, and his steadfast determination to ruin the pros pects of Mr. Forrest in Europe. Mr. Macready had previ- FORREST, AS spARTActis. ously been in America, and, accompanied by Miss Cushman, played engagements in all the large cities, realizing therefrom fame and fortune. But instead of returning this kindness, he acted openly towards Mr. Forrest as his deter mined foe. In Paris, the two tragedians met. Mr. Forrest was anxious to appear on the French boards, but Macready threw obstacles in the way ; this was the first time GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 509 that the parties were enemies, they had in by-gone years been friends. Forrest s subsequent success in London aroused Macready s bitter hostility, and he deter mined to put him down. It was said at the time that he or his friends actually hired men to visit the theater and hiss Forrest off the stage, and Forrest was con sequently received with a shower of hisses before he was heard. This conduct was followed up by the press, by which both Forrest and his country were assailed. Forrest and Mac ready next met in Edin burgh, and from this city were sent forth bitter charges against Forrest, the chief of which was, that he had hissed Macready for dancing and throwing up his handker chief across the stage, in one of the parts which he was then enacting. Criminations and recriminations were thus indulged in, without measure, each party claiming to be the one aggrieved, and the quarrel enlisted the warm and active interest of the public, on both sides of the Atlantic. In 1848, Mr. Macready again made a professional visit to the United States, and, after performing in various parts of the country, commenced a farewell engagement at the Astor Place Opera-House, New York, in May, 1849, in the character of Macbeth, under the auspices of Messrs. Hackett and Niblo. Here the anti-Macready party deter mined to silence him by mob violence. The seventh of May was the time appointed for him to commence this engagement, with what result, the accounts given by the press of that city will show, as follows : As soon as the doors were opened, a very large number of persons, of the male sex, entered the theater, and took their seats in different parts of the house. They were followed by many others, among whom were probably fifty or sixty ladies. Long before the curtain rose, the house was well filled, the gallery and parquette being quite crowded. It now began to be whispered about, that the reception of Mr. Macready would not be favorable on the part of a portion of the auditory; and the appearance of Mr. Matsell, the chief-of-police, and a very strong body of the force under his orders, seemed to strengthen the rumors which were prevalent. The house was, however, perfectly quiet until the curtain rose upon the first scene, when the appearance of Mr. Clarke, who personated the character of Malcolm, elicited three loud and en thusiastic cheers from the parquette and gallery. From this moment, the cheer ing, hissing, whistling, and other ex pressions of feeling began, and not a syllable was heard during the remain der of the scene, and the succeeding, till the entrance of Macbeth, passing in dumb show. When Macbeth and Banquo en tered in the third scene, the uproar was deafening. A perfect torrent of groans and hisses assailed Mr. Macready, and a deluge of assafoetida was discharged upon him from the gallery, filling the whole house with its pungent and offensive odor. A rotten egg was projected against him, but missing the face of the eminent trage dian, bespattered the stage at his feet. The friends of Mr. Macready, who ap peared rather to outnumber those opposed to him, now manifested their feelings by cries of "shame!" "shame!" cheers, and waving of handkerchiefs, provoking a re sponse in the form of renewed groans, hisses, and half a dozen rotten potatoes, on the part of the others. " Three cheers for Edwin Forrest ! " were called for by some one in the pit, and were given with great enthusiasm by those unfriendly to Mr. Macready. Then came the cry of " Three cheers for Macready ! " which was responded to with equal enthusiasm by the opposite side of the house. The scene which followed beggars de scription. Hisses, groans, cheers, yells, screams, all sorts of noises, in the midst of which Mr. Macready still maintained his position in the center of the stage. " Off! " " off! " shouted one party. " Go on ! " "go on ! " screamed the other. Mr. Macready approached the lights. He was greeted by roars of ironical laughter, and reiterated hisses and groans. A banner was at this moment exhibited in front of 510 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1770-1876. the amphitheater, bearing on its side, " No apologies it is too lute ! and on the other, " You have ever proved yourself a liar ! " The appearance of this banner was the signal for a perfect tornado of uproarious applause, laughter, cheers, and groans, in the midst of which an old shoe and a cent piece were hurled at Mr. Mac ready, who picked up the copper coin, and, with a kingly air. put it in his bosom, bowing, at the same time, with mock humility, to the quarter of the gallery from which the visitation had descended. Lady Macbeth, who was represented on this occasion by Mrs. Coleman Pope a very beautiful and queenly-looking woman fared little better than her lord. Not a syllable of her part was audible. With great calmness, and without the least wavering, however, this lady made a show of going through her part. All on the stage fared alike. It was evident that there was a fixed and settled determina tion on the part of that portion of the auditory which occupied nearly one-third of the parquette, and the greater portion of the gallery, between whom a communi cation was kept up throughout the even- ig> by means of signals and exclamations, not to permit the performance to proceed. Several of Mr. Mac ready s friends now became much excited, and shouted to him to " go on," and " not to give up the ship," which elicited tremendous groans, hisses, and cries of " Three groans for tin 1 codfish aristocracy," which were responded to with marked enthusiasm. Cries of " Down with the Enylish hoy ! " " Take off the Devon shire bull!" "Remember how Edwin Forrest was used in London!" and sim ilar exclamations, were loud and frequent. Thus passed the whole of the first and second acts, the uproar not ceas ing for a moment. When the curtain fell, in t In- second act, the tumult was fiercer than ever, and it was qufte ap parent that something still more serious was approaching. Yet the greater portion of the audi tory opposed to Mr. Mac-ready seemed in excellent humor. They chanted snatches of the witches choruses, and amused themselves by asking repeated ly, " Where * Macready ? " - " Where s Eliza Brown ? "and other interrogations of that char acter. One gentleman in the parquette, amongst those who were hostile to Mr. Macready, ogled the house through a stu pendous eye-glass, large enough for a horse collar; and others threw themselves into a variety of atti tudes more peculiar than becoming. " Three cheers for Macready, Xiyyer Douglass and Pete Williams, were now called for, and given with vehemence. At length the curtain rose on the third act ; and, in dumb show, Banquo, advanc ing to the lights, commenced, but not a syllable was audible. Then Macbeth reappeared, and the uproar was greater than ever. Smash came a chair from the gallery, nearly grazing the head of a member of the orchestra, and strewing the stage with its fragments, within a few feet of Mr. Macready. He bowed and smiled. Another chair fell at his feet, GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 511 with a crash which resounded all over the house. Some of the ladies started from their seats, and grew quite pale. The shouts, and groans, and hisses, were redoubled. Mr. Macready stood quite unmoved not the slightest tremor visible not the least bravado, either, in his manner. Another chair was hurled on the stage, and the curtain suddenly fell. The ladies hurried from the boxes all but a few, who betrayed not the slightest alarm. Still the uproar continued, and there was loud talking in the lobbies. A great crowd outside thundered at the doors, and threatened to break into the theater. Mr. Matsell and a strong party of his policemen barricaded the entrances. The ladies were hurried out by one of the doors that open in Eighth street, and in a few minutes afterwards, Mr. Macready, in a close car riage, was driven rapidly and safely away. No person on the stage was injured by any of the missiles thrown during the evening, but almost all of the actors received a copi ous allowance of the fetid liquid which was discharged from the gallery. Some of the ladies expressed their feelings in favor of Mr. Macready by waving their handkerchiefs ; and many of the male audience who were most enthusiastic in favor of Mr. Macready, were Americans. During the pantomime upon the stage, the American actors playing with Macready were frequently warned by the people in the gallery to " go off the stage/ or expect similar treatment hereafter. In conse quence of these warnings, after the play was suspended, Mr. C. W. Clarke appeared in front of the curtain, as an apologist ; he remarked that his family was depend ent on his exertions for a maintenance, and he pleaded this fact in justification of himself for having consented to play with Mr. Macready. Mr. Clarke s explanation was cordially received ; and when it was found that the performance had been effectually interrupted, and that Mr. Macready had abandoned the effort to proceed with the play, the vast and excited crowd, within and without, began to dis perse, and, about twenty minutes past ten o clock, the whole scene was perfectly quiet. But the end was not yet. Another cur tain was to rise, and a tragedy not in pantomime, but in dread reality was to be enacted to the bloody end. Regretting the abandonment of his engagement by Mr. Macready, and especially deprecating the violence which led to that determina tion on his part, a large number of the leading gentlemen of New York, headed by Washington Irving, addressed a note to Mr. Macready, urging the fulfillment of his original plan, and assuring him that the good sense and respect for order character izing the community would sustain him. This request was acceded to, and the evening of May tenth appointed for the performance. Unfortunately, the publica tion of this correspondence was regarded as an open challenge to the other party ; placards were circulated that the crew of the Cunard (English) steamer America were resolved to sustain their countrymen with arms ; and the calling out of the mil itary by the mayor on Thursday afternoon, as a measure of precaution for the evening, added fuel to the flame. It became evi dent throughout the day that there would be a serious collision between the rioters and the military, in the event of the former attempting to execute their threats against Mr. Macready. As early as half-past six o clock, persons 512 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. began to assemble around the theater; and, at about seven, crowds were seen wending their way to the theater from all parts of the city. By half-past seven, there was a multitude in the streets, in front of the opera-house, and the rush to get admittance was tremendous. Tickets for a sufficient number to fill the house were soon sold, and the announcement made on a placard that no more would be sold. Meantime, the crowd outside was tremendous, and increasing every minute. Every avenue to the theater soon became densely crowded. Astor Place was occu pied by an immense assemblage, almost all of whom had apparently been attracted by curiosity. The portion of the Bowery adjoining the theater was also crowded, and, in Broadway, which had at that point been opened for the purpose of construct ing a sewer, hundreds of persons were seen crowded together on the top of the mound of earth thrown up from the center of the street. The house itself was filled to the dome. A great portion of the assemblage in the theater consisted of policemen, who had been distributed all over the house in de tached parties. There was not any appear ance of an organized party of rioters in the house. When the curtain rose, there was an outburst of hisses, groans, cheers, and miscellaneous sounds. The opening scenes, however, were got through with after a fashion, several persons who hissed and hooted having been seized by the police, and immediately conveyed to an apartment underneath the boxes, where they were placed in confinement. Mac- ready s appearance was the signal for a great explosion of feeling. Hisses, groans, -shouts of derision, assailed him, intermin gled with loud cries of " Out with him!" " Out with him, ! " Large numbers of the auditory started to their feet, and called on the police to eject the individuals who had expressed their disapprobation, and several arrests were made in the manner already described, each arrest being fol lowed by loud cheers and applause all over the house. Thus the play proceeded through the first two acts. There had been a great deal of trepidation behind the scenes, but the heroism with which the actors and actresses sustained themselves on the stage, elicited much praise. The manner of Mrs. Pope, the Lady Macbeth of this melancholy night, was especially com mended. It was, indeed, a trying scene. Mr. Macready repeatedly expressed to Mr. Hackett, his wish to desist, and his desire to avoid any further collision with those who were opposed to his appearance ; but, amid the shouts, groans, hisses, and arrests by the police, the play went on, much of it in dumb show, but portions of it without material interruption. It was supposed, at this moment, that the tumult would be effectually quelled, for the dis turbance in the house became less and less, and even some passages of Mr. Macready s part wore heard with a tolera ble degree of order. The first persons arrested in the par- quette were four young men, who were locked up in the temporary prison under the boxes. In this apartment was a gas light burning, and the prisoners, pulling up some shavings and pieces of wood, set fire to them. When the policemen opened the door, the place was full of smoke, but the officers speedily extinguished the fire. The prisoners who had attempted this atrocious crime were immediately put in irons. At this moment a shower of stones assailed the windows of the theater; and news soon came in from the street, that a man named Judson was heading the mob outside, and calling upon them to stone the building. The chief-of-police at once ordered his arrest, which was promptly effected. In the meantime, the assault upon the doors and windows was continued, volley after volley of large paving stones being discharged against them. The glass was, of course, in a few moments, broken to atoms ; but, having been barri caded, the windows resisted the attack for some minutes. Yielding at last, however, the fragments of glass, and blinds, and barricades, being driven with violence into GREAT AND MEMORABLE EVENTS. 513 the both of the house, great alarm began to pervade the audience. Rumors of all kinds that the house was to be fired, that it was to be blown up, and so on, were circulated. The ladies, seven in number, who were present, and who, with a heroism creditable to their sex, had till this moment preserved their equanimity, now became alarmed, and shifted their seats to the least exposed positions. And now, the scene being enacted was most exciting. In front and rear, the fierce assaults of the mob, as they thundered at the doors, resounded all over the theater, whilst the shouts and veils of the assail- utes afterwards, two troops of cavalry, of the first division of the state militia, and a battalion of the national guards, were seen approaching the place of the riot. A troop of horse now turned from Broadway into Astor Place, and rode through the crowd to the Bowery, receiv ing showers of stones and other missiles, on their way. The horses became unman ageable, and the troop did not again make its appearance on the ground. In a few minutes afterwards, the national guard, one of the independent volunteer compa nies of the city, made their appearance on the ground, and attempted to force a pas- *i ^f-^g^- ?stijm^S&3 j^$^iM^^K& ASTOR PLACE Ol ilKA-HOC SE RIOTS. ants were terrific. Inside, however, all was comparatively quiet. The police arrested summarily the leading rioters in the house, and, making sorties among the crowd outside, secured many of the ring leaders of the mob. As the mob increased in magnitude and in the ferocity with which they assailed the building, the cry arose, " Where are the military?" " Can nothing be done to disperse the rioters ? " " Where s the mayor?" Several dispatches were sent to the City hall, where the military were stationed. At length, about nine o clock, the sound of a troop of cavalry coming up Broadway was heard ; and in a few min- 33 sage through the crowd to the theater. The mob hissed and hooted at them, and finally attacked them with stones, which were at hand in consequence of the build ing of the sewer in the vicinity. The com pany were at this period thrown into dis order by the attack made upon them, and retired to Broadway, where they rallied, and made another attempt to reach the theater. They were hissed and pelted as before, with stones, but the} succeeded in gaining the desired point. They then endeavored to form in line on the sidewalk, and while doing so, five or six of them, including the captain of the compatiy, were felled to the ground by paving stones, and 514 OUR FIRST CENTURY. 1776-1876. taken insensible into the theater. The next officer in command then said to the sheriff, who was on the ground, that if orders did not come to fire, he and his men would abandon the streets. Accord ingly, the officer directed the company to fire around over the heads of the people, which was done, but without effect. The multitude continued to pelt them with paving stones, as before. An order was then given to the company to fire at the crowd, and it was done, two men falling, one shot in the arm, and the other through the right cheek. The first was sent to the hospital, but the other was found to be dead. After the volley, the mob re treated a short distance, but rallied and renewed the attack with greater vigor than before. Paving stones and other missiles were discharged at them in great quanti ties; and while the mob was going on, another volley was fired by the military, killing and wounding several more. After this volley, the crowd retreated again, and the military and the police took advantage of it to form a line across the street at both ends of Astor Place, so as to prevent any connection between Broadway and the Bowery. General Sandford then issued an order for more troops and two brass pieces loaded with grape to be brought to the scene immediately, as it was rumored that the crowd intended to arm themselves and renew the attack. Before the volleys were discharged, Gen eral Sandford several times called out to the crowd, that they must hold back, or the troops would fire ; and, on the sheriff at last giving the order, General Hall exclaimed, " Fire over their heads." The order to fire was repeated by General Sandford and Colonel Duryea, and the men fired over the heads of the mob, against the walls of a house. A shout was then made by the mob, " They have only Hank cartridges give it to them again!" and another volley of stones followed instantly. The troops were then ordered by General Sandford and Colonel Duryea, to fire again, General Hall saying, "Fire low" and then, for the first time, the mob began to give way. The troops thereupon moved forward and crossed the street, driving the crowd before them, until the troops got near to the corner of Lafayette Place. The mob rallied at the corner of Lafayette Place on one side, and at the corner of the theater and broken ground at the opposite side, and advanced again with fresh showers of stones on the troops. Several of the military were hurt severely by this second attack, and orders were given to the troops to fire, one-half obliquely to the right, and one-half ob liquely to the left, on those two bodies. This was done, and the crowd fell back to Lafayette Place, and beyond the broken ground behind the theater. There was no firing after this by the troops, but the mob kept up constant attacks. The number of lives lost in this terrible occurrence was twenty-two, and a large number were wounded. The whole number of military engaged in the conflict was about two hundred and ten, one-half in the line of Broadway, and the other in the line towards the Bowery. The mob was estimated by some as high as twenty thou sand ; but, on account of the street lights having been put out, it was exceedingly dark, and nothing could be seen but a dense mass of people, swaying and surg ing like a troubled sea, while hoarse shouts and wild cheers and curses rent the air. The element of personal animosity between these two distinguished histrionic characters, had, beyond all question, ob tained deep root, and, in addition to this, appeal was made by their friends, respec tively, to the prejudices of nationality, and thus the reception accorded Mr. Macready differed widely from that which greeted him on his previous visit to America. Mr. Macready, soon after this tragedy, left for England. LOAN DEPT -50wi-2, 64 General Library . Uf u?efty of California Berkeley