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THE,

AJHERICAN
NATION

VOL. i.

THE

AMERICAN
NATION

ITS EXECUTIVE, LEGISLATIVE, POLITICAL,
FINANCIAL, JUDICIAL AND INDUSTRIAL HIS
TORY: EMBRACJNG SKETCHES OF THE LIVES
OF ITS CHIEF MAGISTRATES, ITS EMINENT
STATESMEN, FINANCIERS, SOLDIERS AND
JURISTS, WITH MONOGRAPHS ON SUBJECTS
OF PECULIAR HISTORICAL INTEREST. BY
BENSON J. LOSSING, LL.D., J. K. UPTON, HON. A.
G. RIDDLE, HON. THOMAS M. COOLEY, HON. J.
V7. CAMPBELL, COL. CHARLES WHITTLESEY,
RT. REV. C. F. ROBERTSON, I). D. AND MANY
OTHER DISTINGUISHED WRITERS. EDITED BY
I. H. KENNEDY.

CI EVHLAXD

ttbc TSIUlliams pubhsbtno Company

IOAN STACK

PREFACE.

IN offering to the American people this story of the beginnings and
growth of a Nation that, by the direct and broad highway of
equal rights for all, has attained the highest rank among the peoples
of the earth, no apology need be made for its appearance, whik
extended explanation of its purpose is unnecessary.

Shall argument be made to show that a knowledge of this story is,
by obligation of citizenship, the duty of all ?

No citizen, old or young, native or foreign born, can be fully
prepared to do his duty to the country whose protection he enjoys,
and the future of which to some extent lies in his hands, unless he
understands the difficulties through which it has gone to reach its
present greatness, and the many conflicts by which the bless
ings of to-day have been won and made secure. No matter what
lines of knowledge or culture ma}- be closed to the voter, or to him
who is to become one by added years of naturalization, he cannot
safely remain in ignorance as to the history of America, or the past of
that government through which his will and purpose are made
known. Each question of public policy that develops itself in the
forward advance of events, depends for its solution upon something
ichat has gone before, and no citizen can do the duty of the future
without a knowledge of the past.

The history of our Nation has been related in these pages as never
before — with completeness, exactness of statement, detail of descrip
tion, liberality of judgment and breadth of purpose that no previous
attempt has reached. Beginning with the days that connect out

688

"i PREFACE.

earliest American .history with tradition and romance, all the lines of
development and growth have been followed fully and carefully to the
present. No salient point can be discovered that has not been touched
upon; no question or measure of importance that has not been
described with reference to its causes or effects; no era that has not
been fully considered ; and no statesman or warrior of note who has
been forgotten or omitted. It would be a task not necessary in this
connection to enumerate even a tithe of the great events that find
record herein, and that make up the most wonderful story of National
development to be found in the annals of the world.

Among the great events chronicled herein, the following may be
specially mentioned : That grand record of American bravery that,
commencing with the French and Indian wars, carries us on to
Lexington and New Orleans, by Buena Vista and Palo Alto to
Gettysburgh and Chickamauga ; the struggle made by slavery to hold
its own, from the Missouri Compromise to the adoption of the
Fifteenth amendment; all the questions that grew out of the
Revolution and the War of 1812; the United States bank contro
versy ; the growth of our protective tariff; nullification and states
rights; the war for the Union, and all the questions preceding and
following it; the creation of the National bank system; recon
struction and specie resumption. In the history of each National
administration, all the questions that were in the fore-front of the
day find full relation. In the histories of our politics, finances,
industries, commerce, judiciary— with many special papers by eminent
writers— may be found a mass of well-arranged information that
makes of this work what it purports to be— a complete history of
our Nation from the settlement of America to the present dav. In
addition, the biographies of the great men of the past and present
are fully given -our chief magistrates, statesmen, judges, soldiers,
financiers and philanthropists.

The work done herein is that of men who have made a deep stud}'
of American history, and have candidly set down the truth as it could
be ascertained. No sectional or political bias has stood in the way
of that truth. No coloring has been used to give this one fame, or

PREFACE. ill

to cast a shadow upon another. i\o expense has been spared by the
publishers to make the work complete and perfect in every form.
The number, quality and character of the illustrations give to that
department an excellence that cannot be challenged. The result
of the long labor and great expense which have attended the
preparation of the book, is a gratification to the editor and pub
lishers, who cannot but feel that the public, for whose good the work
has been issued, will join with them in the belief that it has a mission
in the world that no other has been able to accomplish.

CONTENTS,

VOLUME i.
THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD.

PAGE

Discovery of the American Continent — The Descent of the Norsemen upon Wcst-
ern Shores — The Dream and Deeds of Columbus — Other Bold Sailors Explore
Unknown Seas — The New Western Empire of Spain — Conquest and Settlement
—Mexico, Peru and Florida Placed Under the Spanish Yoke r

France and England Advance and Maintain their Claims — Seeking a Northwest
Passage that No Man can Find — Cartier and his Followers on the St. Law
rence—Drake and his Voyage Around the World — The Attempts of Sir Walter
Raleigh — The Settlement of Jamestown — The Puritans and Mayflower— En
gland Gains a Permanent Foothold at Last xi

The Planting of the Thirteen Colonies — New England's Resistance to the Aggres
sions of the King — A Republic in Fact but Not in Name — The Growth of the
Spirit of Independence — The Condition of the Colonies in Detail, and their
Adoption of New England Ideas — Preparation for the Revolution through
Years of Silent Growth xxrv

THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD.

George Washington and his Preparation for his Great \York — Genealogy of the
Washingtons — The Location in America 3

Childhood and Education S

The Causes of the French War 1(1

The Expedition to French Creek 22

Washington's First Cam paign 30

CONTENTS.

PAGE

.. 39

The Braddock Expedition

To the Fall of Fort Duquesne - 46

Washington's Marriage and Home Life 53

The Ripening of the Revolution ^1

Concord, Lexington and the Siege of Boston 67

The First Canadian Campaign— Evacuation of Boston 77

The Occupation if New York 91

The Battle and Evacv.ation of Long Island 97

The New Jersey Campaign— Battles of Trenton and Princeton 116

The Battle of Brandywine and Loss of Philadelphia 126

Battle of Germantown— Close of the Campaign 135

The Burgoyne Campaign 1*2

The Winter at Valley Forge— Conway's Cabal 154

The Peace Commission— Attempt Against LaFayette— The French Alliance 168

Battle of Monmouth— Court-Martial of Lee 173

Arrival of a French Fleet— Attempt Against Newport— Stony Point 178

Siege and Fall of Charleston— Tarleton's Butchery 189

Battle of King's Mountain— Gates Relieved by Greene 195

Arrival of Rochambeau — Treason of Arnold 199

Mission of Laurens — Revolt in the Army — The War in the South 212

The Closing Campaign of the War 220

From the Fall of Yorktown to the Peace 227

Washington's Home Life and Private Interests 235

ADMINISTRATION OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.

The First Presidency — Inauguration and the Difficulties Encountered — Setting the
Wheels of the New Government in Motion — A Term Purely of Organization 242

PAGE

The Second Term— The Danger from France and His Neutrality- Proclamation—
The Commercial Treaty with England — Retirement from Office and Farewell
Address 248

Appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Armies — Retirement of Mt. Vernon Life — The
Final Days of the Great Hero and His Peaceful Death 259

ADMINISTRATION OF JOHN ADAMS.

Adams' Academic, Collegiate and Professional Education 265

Early Law Practice— The Seeds of Rebellion 275

The Stamp Act and Its Effect— The Baintree Resolutions 281

Anti-Stamp Arguments and Measures — The Boston Massacre 288

Defense of the Soldiers — Elected to the Assembly — Controvers\- with Bowdoin 295

Reply to the Governor — Appointed Delegate to the First Congress 302

Service in Congress 310

The Two Missions to France 324

The Negotiation of the Peace 333

Further Foreign Service — The Vice-Presidency 338

Inaugurated President — The Differences with France — The Alien and Sedition Laws
— Opposition to the Administration — Retirement from Office and Death 34-a

ADMINISTRATION OF THOMAS JEFFERSON.

Early Life — Serves in the Continental Congress 355

The Declaration of IndeiXMidence — Service in State Legislature 366

Elected Governor — Again in Congress — Accepts a Foreign Mission 37H

Service in the Cabinet of President Washington 38£

Elected Vice- Presi den t 397

Sxicceeds John Adams as President — Controversy as to Federal Appointments — The
Punishment of the Barbary States — The Army and Navy — The Purchase of
Louisiana... ....403

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Jefferson's Second Term— Conspiracy of Aaron Burr— New Troubles with England
—The Embargo— Retirement from the Presidency 4-10

Marriage — Family — Home at Monticello 41 8

Views on Slavery— Pecuniary Troubles— Illness and Death 422

ADMINISTRATION OF JAMES MADISON.

Birth and Early Life 435

Chosen Delegate in Virginia Convention — Elected to Congress 443

A Second Term in the Legislature 449

Member of Congress and of the Constitutional Convention 453

Reflected to Congress 463

Further Congressional Service— Marriage 473

In President Jefferson's Cabinet— Elected President— Foreign Troubles, Ending in a
Declaration of War with England 479

Madison's Second Term— The War of 1812— The Sacking of Washington— Jackson's
Victory at New Orleans— The Treaty of Ghent— Retirement and Death 486

ADMINISTRATION OF JAMES MONROE.

Revolutionary Service — Elected to Congress ....495

Elected to State Legislature— Opposition to Federal Constitution— Appointed Min
ister to France 50^

Elected Governor of Virginia— Special Envoy to France— In Madison's Cabinet 508

Elected President— Popularity of His Administration— Strengthening the Govern
ment- Trouble with Spain— A Great Financial Depression 515

Monroe's Second Administration —The " Monroe Doctrine"— Internal Improve
ments—The End of His Life 524

ADMINISTRATION OF JOHN QIJINCY ADAMS.

Early Life— Entrance Upon a Public Career 533

Elected Senator— Accepts a Foreign Mission— In Monroe's Cabinet 538

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Chosen President — Real Civil Service Adopted — Difficulties of Administration —
Reelection Defeated 540

Again a Member of Congress 556

His Course on the Slaver}' Question 560

Last Years of Congressional Service— Stricken with Death While at His Post 570

ADMINISTRATION OF ANDREW JACKSON.

Birth, Education and Earl}' Political Service 579

To the Battle of New Orleans 590

Jackson in Florida — His Presidential Campaign and Election 601

His First Administration — A Marked Epoch in American Politics — Foreign Com
mercial Relations— Internal Improvements— Nullification— The Tariff. 617

The Second Administration — The Great United States Bank Controversy — The
Removal of the Deposits — Diplomatic Relations with France — The Increased
Agitation of the Slavery Question— Jackson's Death 633

ILLUSTRATIONS.

VOLUME I.

The White House Frontispiece. PAGE

Washington on a Surveying Tour facing 18

Redoubt at Pittsburgh, Built in 1764 21

Braddock's Battlefield as it Appears To-day 29

George Washington as a Soldier facing 42

Martha Washington " 50

The Wythe House " 58

Patrick Henry " 66

Israel Putnam " 82

John Sullivan 98

Benjamin Franklin 106

George Clinton 114

The Roger Morris House 122

Washington's Headquarters at Morristown, New Jersey 130

General Burgoyne 138

Philip Schuyler 146

Burgoyne's Surrender 154

Horatio Gates 162

Marquis de Lafayette " 170

Anthony Wayne 17S

Nathanael Greene 194

Benedict Arnold " 202

Major Andre 203

The Nelson House 218

Washington Taking Leave of His Army 227

Mount Vernon 235

Arthur St. Clair 242

John Jay •« 250

George Washington " 258

Martha Washington 259

John Adams " 265

ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

Samuel Adams facing 290

John Hancock " 306

Group of Franklin, Jay and others 337

Residence o f J ohn Ad ams 345

Thomas Jefferson 355

Edmund Randolph •« 368

Alexander Hamilton 392

Aaron Burr 400

Elbridge Gerry 4-08

Benjamin Lincoln 4-16

Monticello— The Home of Thomas Jefferson 425

James Madison 435

Montpelier— The Home of James Madison 473

James Monroe 495

Residence of James Monroe 528

John Quincy Adams 533

James Duane 544

Residence of J. Q. Adams 568

Andrew Jackson 579

Residence of Andrew Jackson 624

William Wirt... " 633

[The following portraits in the above table of Illustrations are used by permission of the publishers of the
MAGAZINK OF AMERICAN HISTORY, vir : Patrick Henry, George Clinton, General Burgoyne, John Jay, Samuel
Adams, John Hancock, Edmund Randolph, Elbridge Gerry, Alexander Hamilton, James Duane, William Wirt.]

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD OF
AMERICAN HISTORY.

THE world was content for a time to date European knowledge
of the American continent back only to the day when Columbus
and his adventurous companions discerned the new shore-line in
the distant west, and so far as actual historical proof is concerned,
no definite step can be taken beyond that point. But fearless investi
gation and the opening of new sources of information have
revealed a more than possible past for America, that has broader
foundations than the theories of the lost Atlantis, the migration of
the American Indian from the west of Asia, or the visit of that
Chinese explorer, Ilwui Shin, to the far-off Fu-sang kingdom, which
some say was Japan and some America. Evidence not altogether
circumstantial has been advanced to show that the bold and hardv
Norsemen, pushing westward with hearts that knew no fear, and
restless cravings for motion that onlv the rocking of the dragon-
headed boat upon the cold, white seas of the north, as it dashed on
ward into unknown regions, could satisfy, were the advance-guard
of old-world discoverers, and planted foot upon the eastern shore of
the far hemisphere long ere Columbus dreamed of a new road to
India, or Catholic Spain had a thought of the proud possessions she
should gain beyond the seas.

This reputed descent of the Northmen upon the American coast is
by some relegated altogether to romance and speculation, while many
historians of discernment and judgment have weighed all the
evidence and given their decision in support of its truth. There is

YI THE AMERICAN NATION.

much in favor of the theory they advance, for the men who discovered
Iceland and Greenland and added them to the trophies of the Scan
dinavian race, might well cross over the narrow channel that lay
between their last outpost of exploration and the main land,
and touch a continent that to their vision should seem, perhaps,
only another island locked in polar seas. This we do know,
that, in 860, one Naddoddr, a Norse pirate, was blown out
of his course, and found himself upon the shores of Iceland ; that
sixteen years later another sailor, driven westward by adverse winds,
saw in the distance a land which he did not touch, but which Eric the
Red, in 981, went in search of and found, and which from the verdure
upon it he called "Greenland," that people of his nation might be led
to make it their home.

Beyond these we must look to those grand old sagas, or written
records of Iceland, for evidence that the Norse was here before the
Genoan or the Spaniard— a source of information open to doubt, and
yet true to much that is already surely known. In these we are told
that subsequent to the descent of Eric upon the Greenland coast, the
vikings had sailed away to the south, where one Bjarni, in 985, dis
covered a fair country, to which the name of "Vinland" was given.
The story, as told in the saga, is full of action and motion, Homeric
in the greatness of the theme, and yet circumstantial and detailed in
narration. The best obtainable translation — that by Arthur James
Weise — is fragrant with the breath of romance, and as brave and
sharp as the north wind in its sense of motion and adventure. "They
intrusted themselves to the ocean and made sail three days, until
the land passed out of their sight from the water. But then the
bearing breezes ceased to blow, and northern breezes and a fog suc
ceeded. Then they were drifted about for many days and nights, not
knowing whither they tended. After this the light of the sun was
seen, and they were able to survey the regions of the sky. Now they
carried sail, and steered this day before they beheld land." . . They
"soon saw that the country was not mountainous, but covered with
trees and diversified with little hills. . . Then they sailed two days
before thev saw another land. . . They then approached it and

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. VII

saw that it was level and covered with trees. Then, the favorable
wind having ceased blowing, the sailors said that it seemed to them
that it would be well to land there, but Bjarni was unwilling to do
so. . . He bade them make sail, which was done. They turned the
prow from the land and sailed out into the open sea, where for three
days they had a favorable south-southwest wind. They saw a third
land, but it was high and mountainous and covered with glaciers.
They did not lower sail, but holding their course along the shore,
they found it to be an island. Again they turned the stern against the
land and made sail for the high sea, having the same wind, which
gradually increasing, Bjarni ordered the sails to be shortened, for
bidding the use of more canvas than the ship and her outfit could con
veniently bear. Thus they sailed for four davs, when they saw a
fourth land" — which proved to be the Greenland of which they were
in search. The next visit to this new-found region was made near the
year 1000 by Leif, the son of Eric the Red. The first point upon
which he touched was "a land of icv mountains," which he named
Helluland, and afterwards a "level countrv covered with trees," which
he called Markland. Again the hardy adventurers set sail toward the
vast unknown before them, and after days of travel "went ashore at
a place where a river flowed out from a lake," where thev "erected
large buildings" and resolved to remain during the winter. In the
spring they discovered "wine-berries," and because of that the place
was named Vinland. Leif then sailed back to Greenland. In the
spring of 1007 an expedition of three ships departed in search of the
new land. Touching Helluland and then Markland they "sailed
southward along the coast," and found not only lands to the south,
but wheat and people, "swart and ugly," with "coarse hair, large
eyes and broad cheeks," with whom they fought and for fear of whom
they "determined to depart and return to their own land." Many
later visits to Vinland were made by the Norsemen, the record in
the sagas carrving us up to the fourteenth century. The exact loca
tion of the described region is not definitely known, and probably
never will be, but that it was upon the coast of America there can be
little doubt. Some say that it was no farther south than south Green-

VIII THE AMERICAN NATION.

land or perhaps Labrador, while evidence is at hand to show that it
may have been Rhode Island.

Beyond the region of guess-work lies our knowledge of the expedi
tion that set sail from the port of Palos on the third of August, 1492.
Columbus stands forth upon the page of human history with a dis
tinctness that casts Bjarni and even Eric the Red into the shadow,
and the prize he won for Europe has made his name one of the few
that all peoples will remember through all time. Spanish hesitation
as to the profitableness of the venture kept his hope for a long time
in the balance, but at last he found himself in command of three
small vessels, far from fit for a voyage across the great seas, and car
rying one hundred and twenty persons in all. "On losing sight of
this last trace of land," says Washington Irving, in noting his depart
ure from Ferro, the last of the Canary islands, "the hearts of the
crews failed them. They seemed literally to have taken leave of the
wrorld." Yet the brave spirit and the well-meant promises of the
leader prevailed, and on and on they sailed. "It was on Friday
morning, the twelfth of October," continues Irving, "that Columbus
first beheld the new world. As the day dawned, he saw before him a
level island, several leagues in extent, covered with trees like a con
tinual orchard. Though apparently uncultivated, it was populous,
for the inhabitants \vere seen issuing from all parts of the woods and
running to the shore." Yet Columbus never dreamed that he had
added two great continents to the possessions of the superior civiliza
tion of the old world. He believed that he had already partly circum
navigated the world, and that India had been reached. In his own
quaint language, in a letter to the treasurer of Ferdinand and Isa
bella, written on shipboard, March 14, 1493, he says:

"Thirty-three days after my departure from Cadiz, I reached the
Indian sea, where I discovered many islands, thickly peopled, of
which I took possession, without resistance, in the name of our most
illustrious monarch, by public proclamation and with unfurled ban
ners. To the -first of these islands, which is called by the Indians
Guanahani, I gave the name of Blessed Saviour (San Salvador), rely
ing upon whose protection I had reached this as well as the other isl-

THE PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY PERIOD. IX

ands. To each of these I also gave a name, ordering that one should
be called Santa Maria de la Conception; another Fernandina; the
third, Isabella; the fourth, Juana; and so on with all the rest respec
tively. As soon as we arrived at that which, as I have said, was
named Juana [now Cuba], I proceeded along its coast a short dis
tance westward, and found it to be so large and apparently without
termination that I could not suppose it to be an island, but the con
tinental province of Cathay [or Tartary] . . . Thus it has happened to
me in the present instance, who have accomplished a task to which
the powers of mortal man have never hitherto attained ; for, if there
have been those who have anywhere written or spoken of these isl
ands, they have done so with doubts and conjectures ; and no one
has ever asserted that he has seen them, on which account their writ
ings have been looked upon as little else than fables. Therefore let the
king and queen, our princes and their most happy kingdoms, and all
the other provinces of Christendom render thanks to our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ, who has granted us so great a victory and such
prosperity. Let processions be made and sacred feasts be held and
the temples be adorned with festive boughs. Let Christ rejoice on
earth, as he rejoices in heaven, in the prospect of the salvation of the
souls of so many nations hitherto lost. Let us also rejoice, as well
on account of the exaltation of our faith as on account of the in
crease of our temporal prosperity, of which not only Spain but all
Christendom will be partakers. Such are the events which I have
briefly described. Farewell.

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS,
Admiral of the Fleet of the Ocean.
Lisbon, the 14th of March."

There never was, in the history of man, and there never can be
again, -so important a geographical event as this discovery of the
American continent; and could the story of its discovery, conquest
and settlement be told with such fullness as the detailed incidents in
each of the avenues of approach could furnish, nothing more marvel
ous in romance, or more thrilling in the wars and conquests ot the

X THE AMERICAN NATION.

dark ages, could be found and written to the edification and instruc
tion of mankind . Columbus merely touched the outer shore, and sailed
back to Spain to find that Diaz, the Portuguese mariner, had found
the Cape of Good Hope. These were great events, that grew no less
great when the monarchs of Spain and Portugal proceeded to coolly
divide between themselves "all the unknown land and seas to the east
and the west of a meridian line, which should be drawn from pole
to pole, one hundred and seventy leagues west of the Azores" — a
partition which received the sanction of the greatest power on earth,
when Pope Alexander VI. confirmed it by special decree.

With DeSoto in Florida and upon the broad Mississippi, Cortez in
Mexico and Pizarro in Peru, Spain had indeed made a secure and
profitable foothold in the new world. But the prize was not to be
made secure without the advancement of claims from rival nations.
America was too great to fall peacefully into the possession of one
nation, even though she might be as powerful as was Spain four cen
turies ago ; and France and England were soon sending their adven
turous sons in the wake of Columbus, across the seas. Yet the influ
ence of the Spaniards was felt at every point. Within twenty years
after the first voyage of Columbus, they had planted colonies upon
four of the largest West Indian islands, while more than a century
passed before any other European nation had performed a like feat,
with the exception of small settlements made by the Portuguese in
Brazil. While Mexico and Peru were falling an easy prey to Spain,
and the Florida regions were laid under claims, the other European
nations contented themselves with expeditions of discovery along the
various coasts.

Not long after Columbus had told his triumphant story, the sailors
of France— no less skillful and brave than their neighbors to the
south— turned the prows of their small ships westward, and entered
also upon the perils of the unknown seas. John Denys, as early as
1506, explored the St. Lawrence gulf; and in 1524 Verrazano, an
Italian sailor, was sent out by Francis I. of France, reached the
American coast near the point now known as Cape Fear, and cruising
northward visited the bay of New York and Narragansett bay.

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XI

He, also, was searching for a westward passage to India, but was
soon convinced that the land before him was the part of a great con
tinent before unknown. Returning to France, his report to that effect
met such credence that in 1534 Jacques Cartier was sent to America in
command of two ships, to explore the country and perhaps found a
French colony. He cruised about the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which he
named ; entered a bay which he called the Bay of Chaleur ; landed, and
raising the cross and the banner of France over the new land, took
possession of it in the name of his king. The next vear he was sent
forth with a still larger following. Pushing cautiously up the St.
Lawrence, he reached the present site of Montreal, spent the winter
on the St. Lawrence, and carried his party back to France in the
following spring. From these movements and others of like charac
ter, the French laid claim to that portion of the new world into which
the St. Lawrence furnished a pathway, and New France took its
place upon the rectified geographies of the day. The feeling with
which the Frenchman looked upon the assumption by Spain of an
ownership to it all, was well voiced in the imperious utterance of
Francis I.: "What! Shall the kings of Spain and Portugal divide all
America between them, without suffering me to take a share as their
brother? I would fain see the article in Adam's will that bequeaths
that vast inheritance to them."

Nor was England idle while these stirring scenes were being enacted
by her continental neighbors. Her people were a race of sailors,
and Canada, Australia and India to-day speak something
the British idea of acquired domain. With the English mariner the
belief of a northwest passage to India was an inherited faith. The
endeavor to seek it became, as Samuel Adams Drake has well stated
it, "a field for the brave and adventurous of this nation, who, from
year to year, spreading their tattered sails to the frozen blasts of
the Polar seas, grimly fought their way on from cape to headland,
in desperate venture, lured by the vain hope of finding the open
waters of their dreams lying just beyond them. It is a story of
daring and peril unsurpassed. Many a noble ship and gallant crew
have gone down while attempting to solve those mysteries which

XH THE AMERICAN NATION.

the hand of God would seem forever to have sealed up from the
knowledge of man." It was this dazzling dream that led Henry
Hudson, in 1610, to sail into the great bay that bears his name,
where his crew wickedly abandoned him and left him to his fate.
Yet that bay was still entered by the English navigators, who were
sure that it must lead to an open polar sea. "In view of the suffer
ing to which all were alike subject," continues Drake, " these frost
biting voyages might be said to show more heroism than sound,
practical wisdom; yet with the riches of the Indies spead out before
their fancy, and all England to applaud their deeds, the best of
England's sailors were always ready to peril life and limb for the
prize. All who came back told the same tale— of seas sheeted in
ice, suns that never set, lands where nothing grew, cold so extreme
that all nature seemed but a mockery of the all-wise design of the
Creator himself." So much for the spirit with which England turned
her attention toward the new found American coast.

Going back, now, to the year 1497, we see Henry VII. of England
authorizing John Cabot to seek not only for new lands that would
add to the possessions of the English crown, but also for this
northwest passage to Asia. On the twenty-sixth of June he discov
ered land which was probably the island of Newfoundland. On
July 3 he reached the coast "of Labrador, which made him the first
of modern navigators to discover the continent of America, as
Columbus did not reach it until some thirteen months afterwards.
He followed the coast line southward some nine hundred miles, and
then returned to England. The next year his son Sebastian made
a voyage to the same region, also with instructions to seek the north
western road to India, which, it is needless to say, he did not find.
The real discoveries that the Cabots did make won little heed in
England, which overlooked the benefits near at hand for those not
possible to obtain. But England could not be long in these west
Atlantic waters without coming into collision with her foe to the
south, and although the road to Asia was not discovered, many of
the voyages of English merchants and captains were made profitable
by attacks upon Spanish ships and Spanish settlements. In 1577 Sir

THE PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY PERIOD. XIII

Francis Drake set sail from England with five vessels; three years
later he sailed back into Plymouth harbor with only one. He had
visited the coast of our present California, and, crossing the Pacific
ocean, had rounded the Cape of Good Hope, and thus sailed around
the globe. With the destruction of the Armada in the English channel
in 1588, the power of Spain began to decline, and English and French
influences became dominant ere long upon the American side of the
sea.

While the Frenchmen at the north, and the Spaniards and Portuguese
to the south, were making their way into the wilderness, it is with
the English advance that a record of colonial America has prin
cipally to deal; for it was not by St. Augustine or the St. Lawrence
that came those influences which gave us the Declaration of Indepen
dence and the Constitution of 1789, but from Plymouth and James
town.

The Elizabethan age of England was the witness, with all its
glories of literature, discovery and arms, of much suffering and want
among the lower classes ; and for the needy and unemployed the plan
of emigration to the fertile lands across the sea was proposed. By
gift of the queen, Sir Humphrey Gilbert was given a patent by which
he was empowered to inhabit and fortifv all land in America not
then in the occupation of Christian nations. Gathering a company
of the unemployed about him, he set sail with live vessels, and in due
season reached Newfoundland, where he halted to make repairs.
Taking possession in the name of his queen, he again set sail for
a more hospitable coast; but a great storm overtook him, and
four of the five vessels went down. Only one was left to make its
way back to England as best it could, and tell the terrible story
of disaster. Sir Walter Raleigh, a half-brother of Gilbert, who had
been a member of the expedition and escaped the fate of his leader,
was not discouraged bv these ill fortunes. A patent was obtained
constituting him lord proprietor, with powers almost unlimited,
of "all land which he might discover between the thirty-third and
fortieth degrees of north latitude." Under these ample powers he
dispatched two vessels westward, under command of Philip Ainidas

XIV THE AMERICAN NATION.

and Arthur Barlow. In July, 1584, they reached the coast of North
America, where they landed, gave thanks to God for their safe
passage, and performed the customary ceremony of taking possession
in the name of the virgin queen. They had landed upon the island of
Wocoken. "The forests formed themselves into wonderfully beautiful
bowers, frequented by multitudes of birds. It was like a Garden
of Eden, and the gentle, friendly inhabitants appeared in unison with
the scene. On the island of Roanoke they were received by the wife
of the king, and entertained with Arcadian hospitality." The word
that came back to England warmed an already glowing enthusiasm
into new life, and many were ready to follow the fortunes of their
immigrant friends. Raleigh, obtaining the royal assent for such high
honor, conferred the name of Virginia, after the virgin queen, upon all
that country between the French possessions on the north and the
Spanish on the south, and extending westward as far as future
exploration should show the land to reach — a distance that no man
then living could \vell appreciate or understand.

On the ninth of April, 1585, Sir Richard Grenville, with seven
vessels and one hundred colonists, left England and safely reached
Roanoke island, where they needlessly and arrogantly made enemies
of the peaceful Indians, by destroying a village and setting fire to the
standing corn, because a silver cup was missing, which it was sup
posed the Indians had stolen. Ralph Lane was made governor of
the colony, and left in charge when the ships made sail once more for
home. Lane made brief explorations of the country about him, writ
ing home: "It is the goodliest soil under the cope of heaven; the
most pleasing territory in the world; the continent is of huge and
unknown greatness, and very well peopled and towned, though sav
agely. The climate is so wholesome that we have none sick. If Vir
ginia had but horses and kine and were inhabited by English, no
realm in Christendom were comparable with it." This venture that
promised so much came to naught. The cruel punishment that had
turned the friendly tribes about them into enemies, brought direful
consequences upon the heads of those by whom it had been adminis
tered ; for no sooner were the ships away than the Indians grew hos-

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XV

tile, and threatened destruction to the little colony. And when the
ships of Sir Francis Drake, who had been carrj-ing fire and the sword
to a goodly number of Spanish vessels, appeared upon the coast, he
was hailed as a deliverer, and carried the homesick Englishmen back
to Europe in one of his ships. Hardly had they gone before a vessel
of relief, sent by Raleigh, made its appearance, but finding no one to
succor, it soon spread wings also and away to England. It wr.s not
well beyond sight of the coast line before three other vessels, under
command of Sir Richard Grenville, made their appearance. A vain
search was made for the little colony, who had left no notice of their
return to England. Grenville then returned also to England, leaving
fifteen men on Roanoke island to hold possession for the whites.
Raleigh soon fitted out another expedition, connected with which were
many farmers and women and children, with nianv implements of
husbandry. Nothing was found of the fifteen left in charge except their
bones, amid the ruins of their little fort. The events that rapidlv fol
lowed — in which ma}' be read in brief terms one of the romantic mvs-
teries of American history— have been thus described as follows by
Mary Howitt: "When White reached England (on his return for sup-
plies and reinforcements) he found the whole nation absorbed by the
threats of the Spanish invasion. Raleigh, (irenville and Lane, Fro-
bisher, Drake and Hawkins, all were employed in devising measures
of resistance. It was twelve months before Raleigh, who had to de
pend almost entirely upon his own means, was able to dispatch White
with supplies; this he did in two vessels. White, who wished to
profit by his vovage, instead of at once returning without loss of
time to his colony, went in chase of Spanish prizes, until at length one
of his ships was overpowered, boarded and rifled, and both compelled
to return to England. This delay was fatal. The great events of the
Spanish Armada took place, after which Sir Walter Raleigh found
himself embarrassed with such a fearful amount of debt that it was
no longer in his power to attempt the colonization of Virginia; nor
was it till the following year that White was able to return, and then,
also through the noble efforts of Sir Walter Raleigh, to the unhappy
colony Roanoke. Again the island was a desert. An inscription on

XVI THE AMERICAN NATION.

the bark of a tree indicated ' Croatan ; ' but the season of the year
and the danger of storms furnished an excuse to White for not going
thither. What was the fate of the colony never was known. It has
been conjectured that through friendship of Manteo (an Indian chief)
they had probably escaped to Croatan ; perhaps had been, when thus
cruelly neglected by their countrymen, received into a friendly tribe of
Indians, and became a portion of the children of the forests. The
Indians had, at a later day, a tradition of this kind, and it has been
thought that the physical character of the Hatteras Indians bore out
the tradition. The kind-hearted and noble Raleigh did not soon give
up all hopes of his little colony. Five different times he sent out at
his own expense to seek for them, but in vain. The mysterv which
veils the fate of the colonists of Roanoke will never be solved in this
world." Raleigh deserved, himself, a better fate than awaited him.
Troubles thickened about him at home, and he had such need of
thought for himself that he could give little to Virginia, which he de
clared he should yet "live to see an English nation." He did not see
the prophecy fulfilled. James I. became king of England, and Raleigh's
head went to the block.

The spirit of discovery and adventure which the stirring times had
aroused in England, led Bartholomew Gosnold to sail direct from
England to America without touching the Canaries and the West
Indies, as had been the custom heretofore. He made the venture in
a small vessel, in 1602, and in seven weeks safely reached the coast of
Massachusetts. Finding no good harbor he continued his course
southward, and landing upon a promontory, called it Cape Cod—
which name it has retained to this day. He discovered the islands of
Elizabeth and Martha's Vineyard. The ship was laden with furs and
sassafras, bartered from the Indians, and made preparations to leave
a colony and return home ; but when the hour of departure arrived,
those who had agreed to remain repented themselves of their decision,
and all returned home. The reports brought by the party— with the
shortness of time required for the direct voyage — excited new move
ments, and in the year following, a company of merchants of Bristol
dispatched two small vessels, under command of Martin Pring, for

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XVII

the purpose of trade with the natives. The result was the discovery
of some of the principal rivers of Maine and an examination of the
coast of Massachusetts. In 1614 Captain John Smith, of Virginian
fame, also visited the Massachusetts coast, sailed into Massachusetts
bay "till he came up into the river between Mishawam, afterwards
called Charlestown, and Shawmutt, afterwards called Boston, and,
having made discovery of the land, rivers, coves and creeks in the
said bay, and also taken some observation of the manners, dis
positions and sundry customs of the numerous Indians, or nations
inhabiting the same, he returned to England." Emulating the
example of the Frenchmen who had founded a New France to the
north, he named all this country New England — an appellation it still
retains

The commercial instinct that lies back of the greater part of
English colonization was not lacking here. The return of Gosnold
and the reports he carried led to the formation of a companv for
the purpose of planting colonies upon the new shores. The name
of "The Virginia Compan}"" was given to this organization, and
received from the crown the right to hold all the land from the St.
Croix river to Cape Fear. It was divided into two divisions, the
one, the London company, to have control of the southern portion
of this territory, and the other, the Plymouth company, to control
the northern. The London company had the honor of founding the
first English colon v in America. Three vessels, commanded bv Cap
tain Christopher Newport and manned by one hundred men, were
sent out with instructions to land on Roanoke island. A stress
of weather drove them into Chesapeake bay, and such were
the attractions of the place that they determined to make it their
place of settlement. Sailing up a beautiful river, which they
named the James in honor of their king, they chose the site of
their colon}', and called it Jamestown, in pursuance of the loyal
homage above indicated. This landing was made upon May 13,
1607.

In a work so largelv given to the administrative and political
history of America, it cannot but be of interest to note the form

XVIII THK AMERICAN NATION.

of government that had been arranged for this, the first English
colony to gain a foot-hold upon American shores. King James was
ambitious for the increase of his power, and was already striving
to make the crown more independent of the people. In the patent
conferred upon the Virginia company, he had carefully provided
for such government for the new colonies as should keep them under
his direct control. The instructions for the line of civil policy that
was to be pursued, had been placed in a sealed box, that was not
opened until the landing at Jamestown. It was then discovered
that seven men had been appointed a governing council, among
whom were Gosnolcl, Newport and Captain John Smith, who was
also a member of the expedition.

The fortunes of the little colony were by no means as brilliant
and secure as had been anticipated, while inherent evils of organ
ization and purpose were responsible for much of the ill fortune
that followed. The successful search for gold that the Spaniards
had pursued in Mexico and Peru had inflamed the desires of the
English, who did not know that a like search in the region of the
James would not produce like brilliant results. Many of the gen
try who had come with the colonists had no other purpose in view
than this, and agriculture and the arts were sadly neglected. The
position chosen proved unhealthful, and much sickness ensued. One-
half the colom^ was swept away by pestilence, and the remainder
were only saved by the friendly aid of the Indians. Warfare of an
internal character added its discouragements. Captain Smith was
not allowed to take his place in the council, by the action of enemies,
and was finally arrested upon charges afterwards shown to be
false. After several months of struggling for his rights, he so boldly
and successfully proved his innocence and demanded his rights that
he was given his proper place in the council. It was a timely aid
that he brought, as the president found himself unable to cope with
the dangers and difficulties of the situation, and gradually allowed
the direction of events to fall into the hands of Smith. ''At the
approach of winter," wrote Charles Campbell, in his ' History of the
Colony and Ancient Dominion in Virginia,' "the rivers of Virginia

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XIX

abounded in wild fowl, and the English now were well supplied with
bread, peas, persimmons, fish and game. But this plenty did not
last long, for what Smith carefully provided, the colonists carelessly
wasted. The idlers at Jamestown, including some of the council,
now began to mutter complaints against Smith for not having
discovered the source of the Chickahominy, it being supposed that the
South sea or Pacific ocean lay not far distant, and that a commu
nication with it would be found by some river running from the north
west. The Chickahominy flowed in that direction, and hence the
solicitude of these Jamestown cosmographers to trace the river to
its head. To allay this dissatisfaction of the council, Smith made
another voyage up that river, and proceeded until it became neces
sary, in order to pass, to cut away a large tree which had fallen
across the stream." Thus ended another of the efforts by which
Asia was to be reached by a short cut westward. The main result
of this expedition was a fight with the Indians, the capture of Smith,
and his story of Pocahontas' brave interposition to save his life — a
narration that is not considered by historians as grounded upon any
deep foundation of fact. When Smith was released by the kindness of
the Indian king, he returned to Jamestown to find the little colony
reduced to forty. A gleam of light in their darkening fortunes
came soon after, when Newport arrived with a supply of stores
and some additional settlers. But the gleam of sunshine did not
long continue. The town was almost burned to the ground by an
accident. The stock of provisions ran low, and the colonists were
soon reduced to a diet of meal and water. Want and the exposure
to cold had their legitimate effects, and the already dwindling
number was reduced one-half. Newport set sail for England, leaving
Ratcliffe, the president, in full power, able to manage affairs as he
pleased. ''The spring now approaching," Campbell continues,
" Smith and Scrivener undertook to rebuild Jamestown, repair the
palisades, fell trees, prepare the fields, plant, and erect another church.
While thus engaged, thev were joyfully surprised by the arrival of
the Phoenix, commanded by Captain Nelson, who had left England
with Newport about the end of the year 1607, and, after coming in

XX THE AMERICAN NATION.

sight of Cape Henry, had been driven off to the West Indies. He
brought \vith him the remainder of the first supply, which comprised
one hundred and twenty settlers. Having found provisions in the
West Indies, and having economically husbanded his own, he im
parted them generously to the colony, so that now there was
accumulated a store sufficient for half a year."

In September, 1608, Smith accepted the office of president, which he
had formerly declined. Among the people who had arrived in the
Phoenix were thirty-three "gentlemen," whom the colony did not
want, and a number of laborers, tailors, jewelers, a gunsmith, a
cooper, etc., who might be made of some avail. Smith set himself to
work to make such use of this conglomerate material as the circum
stances would allow. It is recorded that he "now set the colonists to
work— some to make glass, others to prepare tar, pitch and soap-
ashes; while he, in person, conducted thirty of them five miles below
the fort to cut down trees and saw plank. Two of this lumber party
happened to be young gentlemen who had arrived in the last supply.
Smith sharing labor and hardship in common with the rest, these
\voodmen at first became apparently reconciled to the novel task, and
seemed to listen with pleasure to the crashing thunder of the falling
trees, but when the axes began to blister their unaccustomed hands,
they grew profane, and their frequent loud oaths echoed in the woods.
Smith taking measures to have the oaths of each one numbered, in
the evening, for each offense poured a can of water down the of
fender's sleeve. And this curious discipline, or wrater cure, was so
effectual that after it was administered an oath would scarcely be
heard for a week."

Want, Indian outbreaks and internal dissensions make up the his
tory of Jamestown during the following year, and in 1609 Smith
gave up such remnant of authority as he yet retained over a town
full of factions, and sailed to England, never to return. No sooner
was he away than all order and subordination were at an end. The
colonists, who were already famished and liable at any moment to be
destroyed utterly by the Indians, were only waiting a chance to aban
don the enterprise altogether, when the opportune arrival of Lord

THE PRE-REVOLUTIOXARY PERIOD.

Delaware put a new face upon affairs. He brought not only a fleet
filled with colonists and supplies, but authority and a purpose to
make such use of it as the occasion demanded. The next few years, in
the neighborhood of Jamestown, witnessed energetic and decisive
measures in several directions. Lord Delaware, and those who suc
ceeded him as the governors of Virginia, ruled with almost kingly
power, passing and enforcing severe laws, building forts in various
quarters and waging merciless war upon the Indians. One ol the
number, Sir Thomas Dale, receiving information that the French were
settling in the north, in territory claimed by the English, sent an ex
pedition against them, which laid waste to a fishing village on the
coast of Maine. On the way back, a visit was paid to the Dutch
located at Fort Orange and Manhattan island (New York), who
were ordered to pull down the Dutch flag — a command that was
obeyed onlv as long as the English remained in sight.

The English settlements along the James and from thence down to
the sea, began to thrive; tobacco was cultivated and sent across the
seas, and the greatness and development witnessed in the near future
began to be foreshadowed. Meanwhile, a change that had much to do
with the independent spirit of later years made itself apparent in
England. The Virginia company gradually passed into the control of
men opposed to the king and an extension of his powers, and who
favored an extension of the liberties of the people. This change was
made apparent by the appointment of Governor Yeardley to control of
affairs in Virginia, who was sent forth with directions to call a meet
ing of planters and land-holders "who were to consult together and
make laws for the government of the colony."

Thus, in 1011), the first Virginia assembly, or house of burgesses,
was held, and thus began in America the government bv the people.
And it may be added, as an opposing shadow to this brightening
picture, that it was in this same year of 1619 that a Dutch trader
sailed his ship up the James river and sold to the planters of Virginia
twenty negroes who had been captured in Africa.

Going back to the year of 1607, we may find in the secret migration
of a few families from the northeast of England to Holland, the begin-

THE AMERICAN NATION.

ning of a movement and the definite expression of a force that had
much to do with the America of to-day. Forsaking, as they had, the
Church of England because, to their consciences, it was no nearer the
truth than the Church of Rome, they turned direct to the Scriptures for
their rule of action, and left their homes because they could not and
would not render the obedience the state church demanded. In Hol
land they could have a shelter but no home ; remaining there, their
children must become a part of that Teutonic land, and no longer
Englishmen.

Many men and many classes had already found a refuge in the
new lands over ocean, and toward that land their eyes and thoughts
were turned. Jamestown offered no advantage over England itself,
for the Church of England was the recognized ecclesiastical authority
there. The New Netherlands was proposed and rejected because they
would become the subjects of a trading company. The result was
the formation, among the friends in England, of a company that
should send them to the northern portion of the territory under
control of the Virginia company. A portion of their number were
sent ahead to prepare the way. Embarking in the ship Speedwell,
they sailed from the port of Delft-Haven in Holland, to Southampton
in England, where they were joined by the Mayflower. But when
the long voyage was entered upon it wras found that the Speedwell
was not safe, and the whole company were compelled to trust them
selves to the little Mayflower. "And when the ship," we find it
written in the ' Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers of the Colony
of Plymouth,' "was ready to carry us away, the brethren that staid,
having again solemnly sought the Lord with us and for us, and we
further engaging ourselves mutually as before— they, I say, that staid
at Leyden, feasted us that were to go, at our pastor's house, being
large, where we refreshed ourselves, after tears, with singing of
psalms, making joyful melody in our hearts, as well as with the voice,
there being many of the congregation very expert in music; and
indeed it was the sweetest melody that ever mine ears heard. After
this they accompanied us to Delph's Haven, where we were to
embark, and there feasted us again. And after prayer performed

THE PRE-REYOLUTIOXARY PERIOD. XXIII

by our pastor, where a flood of tears was poured out, they accom
panied us to the ship, but were not able to speak one to another
for the abundance of sorrow to part. But we only going aboard —
the ship lying to the quay and ready to set sail, the wind being fair —
we gave them a volley of small shot and three pieces of ordnance;
and so, lifting up our hands to each other, and our hearts for each
other to the Lord bur God, we departed, and found his presence with
us in the midst of our manifold straits he carried us through."

The Mayflower — one of the few ships that have become immortal
ized in historv — was a vessel of one hundred and eighty tons, whose
condition was such that an end was nearly put to the whole expedi
tion. The people aboard were so crowded for room that even the
shallop on the deck " was damaged by being used for a sleeping- place."
The voyage was stormy and full of peril and discomforts, seas sweep
ing over them so that they were "wet continuously," while their
provisions were well-nigh spoiled. They had been full sixty days
away from their last English port when land was sighted— not within
the limits of territory assigned to the Virginia company, but among
the shoals of Cape Cod. An attempt was made to sail to the south, but
they were unable to find their way through the shoals. Land of any
kind was a blessing, especially to the sick and homesick women ; and
the "clamors to be put ashore were irresistible." Thus the anchor of
the Ma\-flo\vcr was dropped in the harbor of Cape Cod, and the cold
and desolate Plymouth Rock received the first impress of Puritanism
in America, rather than the fertile fields that had been sought to the
further south.

It was soon discovered that no settlement could be formed upon the
spot where they had landed, as there was no good water to be had.
Parties of exploration were sent out along the coast, and their report
was such that all the company returned to the M;iyflo\vcr and sailed
along the inside of the bay to a sheltered nook, where they cast
anchor. Here was not only a brook of clear water, but fields which
had been cleared by the Indians for planting. The point had been
marked Plymouth by Captain John Smith in his map of the New
England coast, and from that fact, and from Plymouth having been

XXIV THE AMERICAN NATION.

the last place which they had touched in England, the name was
bestowed upon the little settlement which they set themselves to
form .

The historic compact, which was made by those aboard the
Mayfio\vcr before going ashore to found their settlement, was in its
essential purpose a measure of self-protection and mutual help — each
agreeing to stand by the other, to obey the laws that the majority
might make, and to decide all questions by vote in public meetings.
John Carver was elected governor.

The first measure taken upon landing was one of defense. A plat
form was built upon the hill, upon which several guns were mounted.
A house, twenty feet square, was erected, in which their goods were
stored, and where they themselves might find shelter. A town was
laid out and house lots assigned to each family. The village was en
closed with palings and gates set at proper places. The fields to be
cultivated lay outside, and all the families were to have a right in
common to woodland and pasture-land. All their earnings were to
,go into a common stock, to be paid to the company of merchants
who had furnished means for their passage across the sea.

Dark and doleful times lay before the little company, who had
escaped the peril of the sea only to face the many terrors and
troubles of life in the bleak land that was to become their home. The
men had hardh- set themselves to work for the rearing of needed
habitations, when sickness from exposure and bad food set in. In
four months nearly one-half their number were dead ; and at one time
during the winter their fortunes were at so low an ebb that only half
a dozen had strength sufficient to nurse the sick and bury the dead.
"Destitute of every provision which the weakness and the daintiness
of the invalid requires," writes Palfrey, "the sick lay crowded in the
unwholesome vessel, or in half built cabins heaped around with snow
drifts. The rude sailors refused them even a share of those coarse
sea-stores which would have given a little variety to their diet, till
disease spread among the crew, and the kind ministrations of those
whom they had neglected and affronted brought them to a better
temper. The dead were interred in a bluff bv the water-side, the

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XXV

marks of burial being carefully effaced, lest the natives should dis
cover how the colony had been weakened. The imagination fairly
tasks itself to comprehend the horrors of that fearful winter. The
only mitigations were that the cold was of less severity than is usual
in the place, and that there was not an entire want of food and shel
ter. Meantime, courage and fidelity never gave out. The well car
ried out the dead through the cold and snow, and then hastened back
from the burial to wait on the sick; and, as the sick began to recover,
they took the places of those whose strength had been exhausted.
There was no time and there was no inclination to despond. The les
son rehearsed at Leyden was not forgotten — 'that all great and hon
orable actions arc accompanied with great difficulties, and must be
both enterprised and overcome with answerable courage.' The dead
had died in a good service, and the lit way for survivors to honor and
lament them was to be true to one another and to work together
bravely for the cause to which dead and living had alike been conse
crated. The devastation increased the necessity tor preparations for
defense; audit was at the time when the companv was diminishing
at the rate of one on every second day, that a military organization
was formed, with Standish for captain, and the humble fortification
on the hill overlooking the dwellings was mounted with five guns.
'Warm and fair weather' came at length, and the 'birds sang in the
woods most pleasantly.' Never was spring more welcome than
when it opened on this afflicted company."

With internal affairs thus made brighter, the dangers from without
grew no less. The friendship at first shown bv the Indians soon gave
way to enmity and open threats of war. The action of the English
men was prompt, and eventually proved effective. In 1G22 there
came to the little colonv from the Xarragansetts, a bundle of arrows
tied with a snake's skin, which conveyed a declaration of war. Brad
ford, then governor, filled the snake-skin with powder and ball and
returned it — a message that was so well understood that the Indians
for the time desisted from their purpose. The vear following, a con
spiracy to murder all the whites was discovered ; but Miles Standish

XXVI THE AMERICAN NATION.

promptly disposed of all the ring-leaders therein, and thus enforced a
peace that lasted for some years.

A certain measure of prosperity followed the founding of the col
ony ; and such was the hopeful and determined spirit of the Puritans
that when the Ma y flower returned to England in the April following
the winter above described, not a man of them went with her. As
time went by, new accessions came, and after a time it was found
necessary to give up the plan by which all the property was owned by
the trading company. Each man wras therefore allotted a part of the
common land, to own and cultivate as best he could.

Meanwhile, events upon the English side of the sea w^ere shaping
themselves rapidly and unconsciously for the future creation of a
great republic upon the American shores. King James I. was still in
sisting that he, and not the people, was the owner of all the soil in the
great little island which had suffered so much for such portion of
liberty as it vet possessed, and was urging relentless war upon the
Puritans, who had vainly hoped much from the Presbyterianism, in
which James, as King of Scotland, had been reared. The troubles be
tween king and parliament were increasing, and many who loved
England much, but liberty more, were debating whether the hard
ships of the New England coast were not to be preferred to the tyran
nies at home. In this condition of affairs, a Puritan minister of
Dorchester, John White, planned a settlement at Cape Ann, in Massa
chusetts bay. His idea was endorsed and put in operation by various
merchants of London, who formed the corporation of "The Governor
and Company of the Massachusetts Bay, in New England." In 1629
they secured from Charles I., who sat upon the throne from which
death had called his father, a charter that gave power to the members
of the company to choose annually from their own number a gov
ernor, deputy governor and eighteen councilors. They could make
laws for the government of the territory they owned, which laws,
however, must agree with those of England. The portion of the
country allotted to them was described as extending from the At
lantic to the Western ocean, and from the Merrimac river to the
Charles. The difficulties that had arisen newly in England between

THE PRE-REVOLUT1OXARY PERIOD. XXVII

Charles and the bishops on one side, and the people on the other,
aided emigration under the auspices of this company, many gentle
men of rank and fortune selling their possessions and becoming mem
bers. The final result was a bold step that meant much for that
present and had a deep impression upon the events of the future.
The company determined to move itself bodily across the ocean, carry
the charter along, and manage its American affairs in the land in
which they were located. In the spring of 1630 nearly a thousand
persons left England for the shores of Massachusetts bay. Boston
was founded and other settlements sprung up about it. As new
towns were created, a representation from each was decided upon to
administer the general affairs for them all, and as a result the general
court assembled in Boston, and made laws and settled such disputes
as might arise. Within the next ten years twenty thousand persons
crossed the Atlantic and made their home in New England.

Thus the future great nation was unconsciously but surely building
itself in different directions, each colony being prepared by its
experiences and trials to depend upon itself and to seek a needed
alliance with its neighbors. The stirring events that followed through
the next century can only be briefly touched upon in this connection.
The New England colonies from Maine to Rhode Island came into
existence one bv one, New Amsterdam became New York and
belonged to England rather than Holland. William IVnn and the
Quakers, also moved bv intolerant persecutions at home, made their
memorable settlement in Pennsylvania; Virginia grew rapidly; Lord
Baltimore planted his colony in Maryland; the French and Indian
wars caused all to make a common cause against the common enemy,
and the French power in America disappeared; the thirteen colonies
became distinct parts of the grand nation that time and mutual need
was evolving slowly but with the certainty of fate.

The plan of self-government, it may be remarked in passing, was not
anexperiment left for the untried experience of 1776, but had found its
beginning on American shores in 1620. As it proved its results by the
experience of New England, those to the south and west were not
unmindful spectators, but learned much that was of use in after days.

XXVIII THE AMERICAN NATION.

In the compact of the Mayflower, the Puritans simply transferred to
political affairs the democratic method that held in their church— they
simply chose their governor by general voice, as they had already
selected the pastor of their church. '4 For eighteen years all laws were
enacted in a general assembly of all the colonists. The governor,
chosen annually, was but president of a council in which he had a
double vote. It consisted first of one, then of five, and finally of seven
members called assistants." While the colony of Massachusetts bay
was organized under a charter from the king, in its real manage
ment, it was of the same nature as that of Plymouth. In 1630, when
the charter and government were transferred from England to Massa
chusetts as above related, John Winthrop was chosen governor, and
the first general court, or legislative assembly, was held at Boston on
the nineteenth of October of the same year. From that time onward to
1686 the people of New England governed themselves under their
system of general election, all power being in the people, and their
form of government purely republican — the only restriction imposed
in the matter of franchise being that all citizens must be members of
some church within the limits of the colony. It was in 1634 that the
expansion of their limits and the increase of their numbers made it
inconvenient for each to exercise his political rights in person, and so
the system of representation was adopted.

As the other New England colonies were created, the}' formed them
selves upon the Massachusetts model. When the Connecticut settle
ments formulated their constitution in 1639, there was nothing in it
to show that a mother country was in existence. WThen Rhode Island
was chartered by parliament in 1644 and organized its government
three years later, it adopted a democracy similar to that to the
north, except that, out of the Puritan persecution of Roger Williams,
there had grown a clause that there should be no restriction because
of religion, and that "all men might walk as their consciences
persuaded them, without molestation, everyone in the name of his
God.' While New Hampshire and Maine were proprietary govern
ments, under royal grants, they soon fell under the influence of their
neighbors, and in 1641 New Hampshire openlj denied the rights of

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XXIX

the proprietor, and placed itself under the protection of Massachu
setts.

All these advance movements toward a political independence of
England, a material independence having already been achieved, were
unmistakable, although little thought of future trouble seemed to
have been held on the English side of the sea. A still bolder step was
taken in 1643, when, as a measure of protection against the Indians
and other threatened dangers, the colonies of Massachusetts, Connec
ticut, New Haven and Plymouth united themselves into a Confed
eracy under the title of the United Colonies of New England. Rhode
Island was not a party to this compact, as she refused all intercourse
with Plymouth, while New Hampshire was at that time a part of the
Massachusetts colony. The governing body of this Confederacy
consisted of an annual assembly, composed of two deputies from each
colon v, which had charge of all matters relating to the common
interests, while local affairs were controlled by local governments as
before.

In speaking at length of these great events so brieflv described,
the historian, Charles Morris, declares that we see in them "a remark
able progress towards a Federal republic of the same type as that
now existing in the United States of America, and constituting a
noble school for the teaching of those principles of self-government
which have become so deeply instilled into the minds of the American
people. It may seem strange that England so quietly permitted
this colonial republic to be formed, but the governing powers of
England had work enough for themselves at home. Originally the
colonies were too insignificant for their acts to call for much atten
tion, and when the home government did show some disposition
to interfere with them, the colonists, with much shrewdness and
show of respect, yet with great tenacity, held on to the rights they
had acquired, and baffled by a policy of delay and negation every
effort to interfere with their privileges. Ere long the English royal
ists became engaged with a death struggle with democracy at
home, during which they had little leisure to attend to affairs abroad;
and the subsequent overthrow of the government and the establish-

XXX THE AMERICAN NATION.

ment of a military democracy in England were circumstances highly
favorable to the gro\\th of republicanism in America. During this
period the self-governing principle made progress in all the colonies,
though largely through the example and influence of New En
gland."

In '1644 another step toward our present form of government
was taken. When the representatives of the people were first
selected they sat in the same room as the governor and council, but
in the year named it wras ordained that the two bodies should meet
in separate chambers, which constituted the first American legis
lature of two houses, the councilors being chosen by the whole body
of the people and the representatives by the settlements as such.
"The early prejudices in favor of rank and title quickly disappeared,
perfect equality was arrived at, and even such titles as those of
Esquire and Air. were applied to but few persons, Goodman and
Goodwife being the ordinary appellations. Aristocratic connec
tions in time became a bar to public favor."

No restrictions of any sort had as yet been placed upon the colonies
beyond those of a commercial character, which were removed dur
ing the Commonwealth and again imposed after the Restoration.
No vessels but those of England were permitted to trade with the
colonies, and no article of American manufacture for wrhich there
was a demand in England could be shipped to any port but hers.
Free trade between the colonies was restricted ; and at last the}^ were
forbidden "to manufacture, for use at home or abroad, any article
that would compete with English manufactures." Naturally there
was complaint at these high-handed measures, and to settle these
and others that had arisen, the crown sent commissioners to Boston
in 1664, with power to "act upon all causes of colonial disturbance."

The Americanized Englishmen were not one whit behind their
Puritan brethren of the late Commonwealth in sturdy independence
and a determination to hold hard upon all the rights so far secured,
and the coming of these royal messengers was viewed with distrust
and fear, as the beginning of measures by which their freedom might
be abridged. They were resisted secretly or openly in all the col-

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XXXI

onies, with the exception of Rhode Island, that seemed to tolerate
their presence with a certain degree of respect. Massachusetts laid
deep stress upon her loyalty to the king, but asserted her chartered
rights and denied any authority of control from England that was
not declared and defined in that instrument. The result was the
recall of the commissioners and the utter failure of their mission.
Quiet reigned until 1681, when Massachusetts again put herself in
opposition to the crown, by the signal defiance and defeat of a cus
tom-house officer who had been sent across seas for the collection
of dues under the burdensome commercial restrictions.

An early collision was inevitable. The purpose long held by the
king of taking affairs into his own hands and becoming a ruler in
fact as in name, saw an excuse for realization in this act of rebellion.
It was declared by judges of the English courts that Massachusetts
had forfeited har charter, through disobedience to the laws of En
gland. The death of the king before active measures could be taken
made no change in the situation, as his successor, James II., proceeded
vigorously along the same line of policy. In 1GS6 a royal rather
than a charter government was forced upon Massachusetts, and
Joseph Dudley was placed by the king in charge. An effort was made
to secure a return of the charter, which was refused, but in 1692 a
new one was granted, which vested the appointment of the governor
in the king. Beyond the exercise of this right, "there was little inter
ference with colonial liberty, but the representatives of the people for
manv years kept up a violent controversy with the roval governors.
The latter demanded a fixed and permanent salary. With this de
mand the assembly refused to comply, claiming the right to vary the
salary each year at their pleasure, and so manipulating this right
that the amount of the governor's salary was made to depend upon
the character of his administration. The people had learned their
lesson well, and held firmly in hand this useful method of enforcing a
government in accordance with their ideas of justice and utility. The
controversy finally ended in a compromise, in which the claim of the
assembly was admitted, while it was agreed that a fixed sum should
be voted annually."

XXXII THE AMERICAN NATION.

While the other colonies were not so sure in their faith in democ
racy, or so determined in its assertions, they were still all traveling
slowly but surely along the road in which New England had made
such sturdy advance. In the first Virginian charter, that colony was
placed under the absolute control of a council residing in England
and appointed by the king, who likewise appointed a council of mem
bers of the colony for its local administration, leaving no right of
self-government whatever in the people most directly concerned. In
1609 the company were given a new charter, which allowed the En
glish councilors to fill vacancies by their own Azotes and to appoint
a governor whose power was despotic. The first steps in the
direction of popular rights were taken in 1619, when martial law,
which had before prevailed, was abolished and a colonial assembh-
convened, although the measures it might pass could have no legal
force until ratified by the company in England. In ,1621 another ad
vance step was taken when a written constitution was granted, and
with it came a pledge that no orders of the company in England
should have force in the colony until ratified by the assembly. Trial
by jury was established, and courts after the form of those held in En
gland. As the spirit of independence became more manifest among
the Virginians, the king decided to take the control of affairs into his
own hands, and by a judicial decision against the company, that or
ganization was dissolved and the colony changed into a government
under direct control of the crown. No attempt was made to destroy
the assembly, which still continued in the exercise of its powers, and
administered affairs in connection with a governor and ten councilors
appointed by the king.

Turning now to the colony of Maryland we find it commencing
its career under a charter of great liberality, which made its members
equal in a political sense and gave them the right to worship God
after the dictates of their own conscience. All laws of the province
were to be subject to the approval of a majority of the freemen or
of their representatives. The first assembly was held in 1635, to
which the members of the colony came direct, but in 1639 a repre
sentative government was adopted. In the Carolinas, the charter

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XXXIII

of 1653 gave to the people religious freedom and a voice in legisla
tion, while the main balance of power was lodged in the proprietary
corporation. One attempt was made to establish a despotic form
of government, but the people resisted and it ended in failure. "They
established a republican government of their own," says Morris,
"elected delegates to a popular assembly, drove out tyrannical
governors and replaced them by men of their own choice, and in
all displayed an aptness for and a tendency to self-government equal
to those of any other of the colonies."

In the colony of New York there was a growing discontent at
the severitv of the Dutch rulers, and when the power passed to the
English, it was welcomed bv manv as offering a chance for increased
freedom. But there was no change for the better until in 1683, when
the duke of York directed the governor to call -an assembly of rep
resentatives of the people. This gathering passed a "charter of
liberties" which placed the legislative power in the governor, council
and people then in assembly, "gave to every freeman full right to
vote for representatives; established trial bv jury; required that no
tax whatever should be assessed without the assent of the assembly,
and that no professing Christian should be questioned concerning
his religion." All these demands were not granted, but the power
gained bv the people as a part of the law-making power was never
afterwards surrendered.

The progressive and republican spirit of William Pcnn had been
closelv reflected in the colonv to which his name had been given.
The charter he had received from Charles II. was quite liberal in
its provisions, yet hardly not sufficient to meet the views of Penn,
who had promised those who had followed him across the sea that
they should be ruled by laws of their own making. In 1682 he
prepared and made public his celebrated "frame of government,"
which was amended by the second assembly of the province, and
led to the granting of charters which made of Pennsylvania ver}'
nearly a representative democracy. "The right of appointment
of judicial and executive officers, which was reserved by the pro
prietors of the other colonies, was surrendered by William Penn to

XXXIV THE AMERICAN NATION.

the people, and the government consisted of the proprietor and the
assembly, with no intermediate council, as in Maryland and else
where. Yet, liberal as this constitution was, the people soon de
manded further concessions and privileges, and Penn, in his last visit
to his province, granted a new charter, still more liberal and con
ferring greater powers upon the people, who from this time forward
possessed a very full measure of political liberty."

From the»above it will be seen that at the dawning of the eighteenth
century the people of the American colonies were measurably free in a
political sense, and in -some respects were even less under arbitrary
rule than England itself. In New England the rights of a republic
were practically granted, while Pennsylvania was not far behind in
that regard, and their examples were before the yet less favored
colonies in illustration of what time and shrewd management might
bring to all. The hundred years that lay between 1676 and 1776 was
an admirable school of self-reliance and practical self-rule; and the
republic that came in the wake of the Revolution \vas, in one sense, no
new and untried experiment. In the first town meeting of New
England that experiment was first tried, and the American Republic
was but the fruit of long growth and slow ripening.

Had England been content to leave her colonies free in other ways, as
she did in politics, she might, so far as one can tell, be yet in possession
of a great and loyal empire on the west side of the sea. But the
hardy and productive people who had made the wilderness a garden,
were looked upon by the rulers and merchants of the mother country
as a source of constant supply, and it was out of financial and
economic oppressions that Lexington and Yorktown were at last
evolved. The oppressive commercial and manufacturing regulations —
treated of elsewhere in this book— that were imposed upon the infant
industries of the colonies, with undue taxation without representa
tion, led to discontent, and finally so widened the breach that there
could be no peace. "In their earlier and weaker days," as one histo
rian has well said, "these evils were of secondary importance,
but with every step of growth and population and of devel
opment of America, the right to trade with whom they pleased

THE PRE-REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. XXXV

and to manufacture what they pleased became of greater impor
tance to the colonists, until finally the restrictions in these respects
grew insupportable. In regard to the question of taxation, the people
of Massachusetts at an early date strongly disputed the right of taxa
tion without representation. As time went on, this sentiment spread
to the other colonies, and had become vigorously implanted in the
minds of all Americans by the era immediately preceding the Revolu
tion. That principle which had been long fought for and eventually
gained in the home country, that the people, through their representa
tives, alone had the power to lay taxes, was naturally claimed in
America as an essential requisite of a representative government; and
it was mainly to the effort of the English authorities to deprive the
colonists of this right that the American Revolution was due."

The stirring events that were enacted during the half ccnturv that
preceded 1776 have been fully described in their proper place in
this work, and need not be dwelt upon here. The Revolution was,
indeed, no spasmodic protest against a specific oppression, but rather
the logical outcome of all that had gone before. It might have been
averted ; but in that case the preventativc must have been applied long
years before even the keenest-evcd of English statesmen could have
seen and understood the danger of the future.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER I.

GENEALOGY.

IN writing the life of George Washington, the first President, as he was
by military leadership almost the creator, of the greatest Repub
lic in history, the author meets the necessity of tracing back to the
remotest possible limit, the history of the family to which he belonged.
The word necessity is used advisedly, for it may well be held, that a man
of Washington's most distinguished and illustrious character and accom
plishments" is not properly to be judged by the immediate circumstances of
his birth, the environment of his youth, or the influences that tended to
mold and define his character during the flexible age intervening between
boyhood and full maturity. If there be any reliability in the doctrine of
heredity, the antecedents of a great man should be as relevant to his life as
is a. statement of the elements mingled in the test tube of the chemist to
the reaction that results.

In the case of Washington are to be found particular reasons for credit
ing the belief that the character and intellect of the father, like his sins, are
indeed visited upon the children, unto the third, fourth, and remaining gen
erations; and did we lack another explanation of his ability, force, and integ
rity, his unwavering bravery and patriotic devotion, that trite and much
abused phrase, nob/cssc oblige, would suggest one quite sufficient.

Paradoxical as it may appear, Washington owed his name, though not
his blood, to an accident. Probably the family from which he sprang ante
dated in position and wealth the Norman conquest. That it held place and
power in the century immediately succeeding that important event is beyond
cavil. 3

4 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

When William the Conqueror had mastered the immediate perils of his
invasion, he found himself faced and menaced by countless dangers, arising
within the territories which, by the unquestionable right of the strongest, he
called his own. Among the most important uprisings that called for his
attention, was that of the independent and warlike Northumbrian race.
Having subjected these formidable insurgents, and, after the fashion of his
time, moved for their conciliation by despoiling their leaders of lands, cas
tles, titles, and wealth, the king looked about for a means by which, in
wisely distributing these confiscated estates, he might win to himself a
strong and undoubted personal loyalty, and confront the constant forays of
the half savage Scots with an array of feudatories which should forever bar
their southward progress. Of the allegiance of the hereditary nobility Wil
liam was none too sure, and hence he turned to the ecclesiastical power-
ever ready, as it has been,

"To bend the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fawning."

To this end he established Episcopal sees all along the frontier line, and
advanced his trustiest Norman and other foreign followers to the dignities
appertaining thereto. One of the wealthiest and most important of these
religious establishments was that of Durham, to which were transferred

the sacred bones of St. Cuthbert, esteemed a saint especially opposed to the
Scots. Not contented with the mere conferring of the ecclesiastical dignity,
the king erected the see of Durham into a palatinate, making its bishop a
count palatine, with a temporal jurisdiction second, within the diocese, only
to the crown, and imposed upon the prelate all the military obligations
known to the feudal system. The vast estate thus transferred to the bishop
of Durham was by him re-allotted among his followers, all of whom, it is
almost needless to say, were of Norman blood, or of the same political
persuasion as their immediate lord and his lord, the king. From these vas
sals of the see was exacted not alone the money tribute necessary to fill the
coffers and sustain the state of the soldier bishops, but many and arduous
warlike duties, and the. elevation of the holy banner of St. Cuthbert was a
signal to arms that none in all the vicinage might ignore.

The bishops, from the first, lived in state little less than royal. The
great castle that was at once the episcopal palace and the fortress of the
count palatine was the centre of a court scarcely less brilliant than that of
King William, and the gay processions that moved out from its portals, to
the battle or the hunt, suffered small loss by comparison with any in the
land.

Among the knights who accepted estates and service from the bishop
of Durham, during the Twelfth century, was William de Hertburn, the ear
liest ancestor of Washington, of whom history gives us any trace. He was
evidently a Norman by blood, and his family long continued to bear Nor-

GENEALOGY. 5

man names of baptism. The surname, De Hertburn, was taken from the
village of Hertburn — now^Hartburn — situated upon the river Tees, and
included in his estate. In the "Bolden Book," a record of all the lands
possessed by the diocese of Durham in 1183, is found the first mention
of De Hertburn, it being there recorded, in barbarous Latin, that the
knight had exchanged the village of Hertburn for the manor and village of
Wessyngton, also included in the diocese.

With the exchange of estates, Sir William de Hertburn became Sir
William de Wessyngton, still a vassal of the bishop ; still an attendant at
his feasts and pageants ; his companion in the hunt; his follower in the graver
game of war. The last named obligation was no light one, as the gallant
Sir William, and many a long-haired, bravely armed, and proudly mounted
cavalier of the De Wessyngtons after him found. When the Scots were
not engaged in some bloody foray over the border, the king and bishops
were often armed, mounted, and pushing northward in retaliation, and the
times were neither few nor far between, when came the call to assist in
the punishment of a presumptuous noble or baron, within the shadow of the
throne. So the De Wessyngtons remained among the preux chevaliers of
the crown, residing at Wessyngton, being born, marrying, giving in marriage,
dying; — fighting, hawking, carousing, gaming, — no doubt conspiring, after the
manner of their kind, — for more than two hundred years. Then one called,
as the free and liberal spellers of the day have it, Sir William de Wesching-
ton, procured the abrogation of the strict entail of the estate, and, having
fought at Ottcrbourne against the Scotch under Sir William Douglas, came
home to his castle and died, and, no doubt, having received absolution from
a fat chaplain, joined his ancestors beyond the jurisdiction of living king
or bishop. He left behind him no son, and, his daughters marrying, not
Wessyngtons, but Temples and Blaykestones, dwelt at the old castle, and
sat in the councils of the palatinate.

Fortunately, however, there were collateral branches of the family, and
we find them prominent in matters of church and state, and widely scat
tered through the kingdom, until, before the middle of the sixteenth cen
tury, Laurence Washington, head of that branch of the family from which
came the American offshoot, was born, to find himself heir to the name,
deprived by custom of the prefix dc, and evolved, by the agency of genera
tions of bad spellers, to its present form. This Laurence Washington, of
Warton, in Lancashire, was for a time mayor of Northampton, and, in
1538, received from Henry VIII. the grant of the manor of Sulgrave, in
Northamptonshire, with an extensive estate adjacent. The Washingtons
seemed to profit by confiscation, for this grant, like that of nearly five
centuries before, came to them by such an exercise of the royal prerogative.
In this instance the sufferer was the monastery of St. Andrew's, which
shared the fate of dissolution with all other priories of the kingdom. This

5 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

estate was the property of the Washington family up to 1620. Directly
descended from Laurence Washington was Sir William Washington, of
Packington, in the county of Kent, who married a sister of George Vil-
liers, Duke of Buckingham. This marriage is an important event in the
history of the family, as it is more than likely that it determined the Wash-
ingtons in their allegiance to Charles I. and the royalist party, thus prov
ing, indirectly, the cause of the later emigration to America.

Lieutenant-colonel James Washington fell, while fighting in the cause of
Charles I., at the siege of Pontefract castle, and still another, Sir Henry, son
and heir of Sir William, distinguished himself by a stubborn defense of the
city of Worcester, against the army of the Protector, continued long after
the king, giving up his cause as hopeless, had fled to the parliamentary
camp.

During the rule of Cromwell, England was neither a safe nor a comfort
able residence for those who had adhered to the Stuart cause, and it may
have been fear of suffering by the severe treatment which befell all sus
pected of complicity in the insurrection of 1655, that led John and Andrew
Washington to emigrate in the year 1657 to Virginia, the favorite refuge of
exiled cavaliers. The two were brothers, great-grandsons of Laurence
Washington, the original grantee of Sulgrave, and the former was the great
grandfather of George Washington. The brothers purchased lands in Vir
ginia upon the "Northern neck," between the Potomac and Rappahannock
rivers. They were possessed of liberal means, and their purchases were
proportionately large. Both were men of education and refinement, and
were at once recognized as such by their neighbors, their homes being
among the gathering-places of the expatriated cavaliers who were land
owners in the vicinity.

This sketch has only to do with John Washington and his descendants.
He shortly married Miss Anne Pope, residing in the vicinity, and, building
him a home, near the confluence of Bridge creek and the Potomac, became
in turn, an extensive planter, a magistrate, and a member of the State
House of Burgesses. He was also, with the rank of colonel, a leader of the
Virginia militia, against the Seneca Indians, who were then upon one of
their periodical warlike expeditions against the whites. As an indication
of the honor in which he was held, his parish was called, and still bears the
name of Washington, anticipating, by more than a century, the impress that
his great-grandson was destined to make upon the nomenclature of
the country. In 1696 his grandson, Augustine, father of the future Presi
dent, was born upon the estate, which had greatly appreciated in value.
When but nineteen years of age, he married Jane, daughter of Caleb Butler,
a leading planter of Westmoreland, county, April 10, 1715. By this mar
riage he became the father of four children, of whom but two, Lawrence
and Augustine, grew to manhood. The mother died November 24, 1728.

GENEALOGY. 7

The grief of the father cannot justly be judged by the period during
which he remained single, which continued until March 6, 1730. He
then married Mary, daughter of Colonel Ball. This lady was a person
of exceptional beauty, wit, and culture, and has been described as "the
belle of the Northern neck." Be that as it may, her blood and breeding
were doubtless of the best, and it would be difficult to define, as it is
to overestimate, her hereditary and personal influence in forming and mold
ing her first-born child — George Washington, — hence her proximate influ
ence over the destinies of the North American colonies of Great Britain,
and the great Republic of which they were the basis. Conjecture is lost in
considering the possible results had she borne a child less splendid in
natural powers, less fine in his appreciation of the distinctions between
right and wrong, less disinterested and in every way less noble.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER II.

CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION.

EORGE WASHINGTON was born at the old homestead on the 22d
of February, 1732, the eldest of seven children who were the fruit
of this second marriage. The others were, in the order of their ages,
Samuel, John, Augustine, Charles, Elizabeth, and Mildred. All trace of
this old house and the little paradise about it has long since passed away,
but Irving says that the spot was, many years after, marked as the birthplace
of Washington, by an inscribed stone, placed upon the site of the dwelling
by George W. P. Custis.

A rather extended statement of Washington's family antecedents has
been made, but not without definite reason. While it is well reasoned
that, other things being equal, ability, virtue, and honesty, may rather be
looked for from that man who is the descendant of generations of honest,
virtuous, and able men, than from one who comes from an inferior and
vicious ancestry, it is also true that such a training and such a lineage as
Washington's, tend to bring forth men cautious and conventional rather
than otherwise. Such are more likely to stand with established authority
than to oppose it; to uphold a throne, as did the earlier Washingtons that
of Charles Stuart, than to assail it ; to be the conservators rather than the
revolutionists of the world.

The simple fact that Washington needed to go but two generations
back to find his ancestor an exile, if not a fugitive, by reason of loyalty to
the throne, must have had great weight in forming his mind. The further
reflection that for six centuries no Washington had ever proved disloyal to
his king — who can measure its force when presented, as it doubtless often
was, to the mind of a thoughtful, if not imaginative boy? If ever a child
had the antecedents to secure him from the possibility of being either a Jac
obin or a demagogue, it was George Washington.

So much for blood. So far as training and association are concerned,

CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION. g

they were scarcely more promising for the production of a rebel or, as
euphemists will have it, a revolutionist. As has been said, Virginia was a
favorite refuge and home of the royalists, who fled from the revenge or dis
pleasure of the Protector. It was, so far as the sentiments of its more refined
citizens were concerned, a community of cavaliers, hating Cromwell and, for
a century after him, the principles of religion and government which he
represented, or was supposed to have represented ; hating the roundhead as
a personal enemy, and regarding the principle of democracy as a cover for
anarchy, and for the worst of tyranny.

Washington's father and half-brothers were rich men, and the wealthy
planter of Virginia kept no mean state in those days. In the mode of life of
the Washington family, and that of their neighbors, as, for example, the
Fairfaxes, many coming from noble, nearly all from aristocratic, families in
England, there was everything to foster, in the mind of the child and young
man, a respect — nay, a veneration, — for so-called divinely instituted authority,
to discourage the belief that he would ever be the champion of a weak people
in a struggle with its established rulers — a struggle which the world should
call rebellion.

As this biography continues, it will be observed that Washington
was only gradually, — indeed very gradually, — educated to the point of
regarding with patience even that measure of popular freedom that colonial
Virginia knew; he was an aristocrat by tradition, birth, education, and
association. Had the possibility of his being a leader in a revolt against
the king been whispered to him, when he first espoused the royal service,
he would have spurned the suggestion as an insult and an impossibility. So
much the more wonderful the event.

Soon after the birth of George, his father removed to a point in Stafford
county, opposite Fredericksburg, where he built him a second house,
similar to the one in which he had first settled, and which, like its prede
cessor, has completely passed away. This was the home of George in all
his early youth ; about it were gathered those associations that in after life
came up to him, as some arise before every man, when the word childhood is
mentioned. His early education was in no way distinguished from that of
other boys about him; he attended the schools of the neighborhood — formal
in method and dull in detail, as rural schools are wont to be. He did not
learn with especial readiness, but rather with especial accuracy. \Vhat he
had once mastered never escaped him, and everything that he acquired in
these early days was at his command for instant use, in any emergency,
during a busy and eventful life. Day by day, however slow his progress
in formal learning, his character was developing, under the formative care
of that best of teachers — a good mother. Possessed naturally of a dispo
sition especially sensitive to good influences, her training made his sense of
honor, truth, and justice, in boyhood as in later life, acute almost to the

IO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

point of morbidness. Thus, in a childhood, singular for the paucity of the
details which have survived, and for its general uneventfulness, we find
standing out and constantly quoted, the threadbare story of the cherry
tree and the hatchet, which has, in our irreverent day, ceased to become a
moral illustration for youth, by reason of the ridicule that its constant rep
etition has affixed to it. It was no great triumph of veracity; probably
few boys would have possessed such enterprise in mischief as to destroy
the tree; probably most boys in his place, upon being taxed with the
deed, would not have admitted it. To repeat, it is not a very remarkable
story, but for one quoted while Benjamin Franklin was still in his prime, it
is a very good indication of an undoubted fact, that, in youth as in man
hood, Washington would not tell a lie.

It was customary among the more wealthy planters of Virginia at that
early day, to send their children to England to be educated, and, while
Washington was yet a young child, his brother Lawrence left his home for
this purpose, being then a boy of fifteen. When George was not far from
seven or eight years of age, this brother returned from abroad, not only a
well educated, but a very polished and elegant young gentleman of twenty-
one years. He had been so fortunate as to acquire the cultivation, while
he avoided the vices of English life, and, from the moment of his home-com
ing, he became an object of admiration, almost approaching worship, to his
younger half-brother. George modeled his manners and habits after those
of Lawrence, and the latter was doubtless largely influential in forming his
opinions as well. He could have found no better model at that time, and
the warm sympathy and friendship that survived this youthful veneration,
and existed between the two for many years, were of great value to each.

The Washington family had the martial spirit, by undoubted right of
inheritance. Very soon after the return of Lawrence to Virginia, war was
declared between England and Spain, as a result of naval outrages commit
ted by the latter nation upon the British merchant marine, and Lawrence
Washington became a captain in a regiment, raised in the colonies to
cooperate with the British army and fleet in the West Indies. With the
history of the campaign that followed, this biography is not concerned ; it is
sufficient to say that Lawrence gained praise and distinction, and returned
to his home, intending, after a brief visit, to go to England and cast his
fortunes with his army.

The result of Lawrence's military service was to fire George with martial
enthusiasm ; he drilled his school-fellows in a doubtless very original
manual of arms ; led them in parades, reviews and mimic battles, and fully
determined, as has many a boy of his age, that only the trade of war could
satisfy his ambition.

Lawrence did not go to England ; he met love and death, two unex
pected adversaries that most men sooner or later encounter — which com-

CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION. I I

pelled him to change of plan, and made him a planter and a Virginian for
life. Meeting Anna, eldest daughter of Hon. William Fairfax, of Fairfax
county, he paid his addresses to her, and, being favorably received, an
engagement followed. The marriage was, however, delayed by the sudden
death of his father, which occurred April 12, 1743. George was then eleven
years of age, and was, with the other children of the second marriage, left
under the safe guardianship of his mother. The ample property was dis
posed of by will, the Potomac estate falling to the share of Lawrence ;
that on Bridge's creek to Augustine ; the house and lands upon the Rap-
pahannock being reserved for George when he should reach his majority.

George had, by this time, exhausted the possibilities of the elementary
school, which he had before attended, and was taken into the family of his
brother Lawrence, that he might have the benefit of a better one that
existed in that neighborhood. The remainder of his school life may be
dismissed in few words. It seems to have been intended that he should
attain a thorough and practical business education — such as should fit him
for all the duties of an extensive colonial land owner and planter. Perhaps
the possibility of his becoming a magistrate or burgess was also present, as
the place that awaited him in the society of Virginia was such as to warrant
so modest an ambition. There are now in existence several of his school
books, into one of which are copied, with infinite pains, forms for contracts,
land conveyances, leases, mortgages, etc. In another are preserved the
field notes and calculations of surveys, which he made as a matter of prac
tice — kept and proved with the same exactness that would have been
expected had the result been intended to form the basis of practical transac
tions. The study of the classics and belles-lettres he never essayed.
Throughout these school days Washington pursued his labor with a per
sistence, dignity, and gravity out of keeping with his years — and which
almost justified a remark similar to that made of Louis Philippe by Lamar-
tine, that he had no youth. He had been for some years the companion,
on terms of quasi-intellectual equality, of older men than himself, and we
look in vain, among all the scattering mementos of his youth, for a sparkle
of the gayety or thoughtlessness of the child.

Still he was not, as such boys are so likely to be, a prig, or simply a
book-worm. He cultivated his body, with the same quiet assiduity that he
gave to his studies, and made such progress in muscular power, and in skill,
that he was the master of his fellows in athletic sports, as well as in the
exercises of the school-room. Many were, no doubt, more brilliant than
he, at that time, as was his friend and protege, Alexander Hamilton, in
later years, but none were more sure of their ground, or more certain
at the goal.

Not the least advantage of Washington's sojourn with his brother,
was the fact that it introduced him, at once, into the highest and, at the

12 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

same time, the best society of the colony. Lawrence had become one of
the most honored and prominent men in Virginia. His wealth, his social
position and that of the Fairfax family, his sterling character, and unques
tioned ability, had united to advance him, and he was a member of the
House of Burgesses, as well as adjutant-general of his district, with the
rank and pay of a major.

But a few miles below Mount Vernon, as Lawrence Washington had
called his estate, and upon the same wooded ridge that bordered the Poto
mac, was Belvoir, the seat of the Fairfax family. Occupying the ample and
elegantly appointed house, was the Hon. William Fairfax, father-in-law of
Lawrence Washington — a gentleman who had attained social, political, and
military prominence in England, and in the East and West Indies. He had
come to Virginia to take charge of the enormous estate of his cousin,
Lord Fairfax, which, according to the original grant from the crown, was
"for all the lands between the Rappahannock and Potomac rivers." This
grant had been very liberally construed to include a large part of the land
drained by affluents of these streams, embracing a considerable portion of
the Shenandoah valley. In the midst of this princely domain, the Fairfaxes
lived in the style of English gentry. Their house was always open to guests
of the right class, and to no others. The monotony of life was occasionally
broken by the arrival in the Potomac of an English war vessel, when its
officers were certain to be found at the Fairfax and Washington tables,
telling their stories of service in distant seas, of battle, travel, and all the
various experiences that a naval life involves.

George was made a sharer, on terms nearly approaching equality, in
much of this social intercourse ; he felt the refining and broadening influ
ence of contact with accomplished and experienced men of the world, and,
not least important, he heard the tales and jests of the seafaring visitors,
and hearing, was enthralled. At the age of fourteen he became infatuated
with the idea of entering the British navy ; his age was suitable, the profes
sion was an excellent one for a young gentleman desiring to push his for
tunes, a frigate at that time lay in the river, Lawrence Washington and
Mr. Fairfax approved, and nothing seemed necessary to carrying the
plan into effect but the _ consent of the lad's mother. Even this diffi
culty yielded to argument. George's clothes were packed, and he was
ready to go aboard, when the mother's heart failed her, and she withdrew
her consent, thus saving Washington to his country. It is more likely,
considering his training and disposition, that, had the boy sailed upon that
cruise, he would have directed a vessel or fleet against the revolting colo
nies; called them rebels, not patriots; served the king, not the people.

Back to school he went, no doubt chagrined and crestfallen, and
remained for nearly two years. At the end of that time his teacher dis
charged him as finished, as, no doubt, he was, so far as the capacity of that

CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION. 13

master was concerned. These two years were passed in the study of the
higher mathematics, his intention being to fit himself for any business or
professional emergency, civil or military.

After leaving school, Washington was much more frequently at Belvoir
than before. Lord Fairfax, the owner of the estate, was now an inmate of
the house, having come to inspect his possessions, and determined to make
Virginia his home. He was much impressed by the fertility and beauty of
the country, and also, gossip had it, having never recovered from a wound
to his heart and pride, inflicted in his youth by a fickle beauty, who pre
ferred a ducal coronet to his more modest rank after the wedding dress was
made, was glad to escape from England to the freedom and retirement of
Virginia. Lord Fairfax was not far from sixty years of age, tall, erect, and
vigorous in figure ; kind-hearted, generous but eccentric, and not a man to
take every comer into his friendship and confidence. He at once showed
a marked liking for the tall, handsome, reserved and dignified young man,
whom he so often met at Belvoir. No one longer regarded Washington as
a boy, though he was but fifteen years of age. Lord Fairfax was a devoted
sportsman, and set up his hunters and hounds at Belvoir, as he had been
accustomed in England. Had anything been necessary to confirm his friend
ship for Washington, it was only to find, as his lordship did, that the latter
was as hard and intrepid a rider as he, and would follow a fox over the
dangerous and difficult hunting grounds of Virginia with as little faltering
or fatigue.

So this oddly assorted couple became close friends and constant com
panions, in the hunt and elsewhere. The old nobleman, litterateur, and man
of the world, treated the sturdy young man as a social and intellectual equal,
and, from the fullness of experience, unconsciously added, day by day, to
his slender knowledge of the world ; while the latter, probably quite as
unconsciously, in a measure repaid the debt, as his knowledge of the coun
try and of colonial life enabled him to do. One important effect of his
intimacy was that it resulted in securing to Washington his first oppor
tunity for testing his new-found freedom, by undertaking an independent
enterprise. This happened incidentally, yet was the starting-point of the
young man's fortunes.

As has been said, Lord Fairfax's estate in Virginia extended beyond
the Blue Ridge, and to a considerable distance up the eastern slope of the
Alleghanies. West of the former range no survey had ever been made,
and reports had come that the country was filling up with lawless squatters,
who invariably selected the best lands for settlement, and were in danger of
gaining such a foothold that, to oust them, would be a matter of no little
difficulty. Lord Fairfax desired a survey of this wild and uncivilized terri
tory to be made. It was a service requiring not only skill as a surveyor,
but ability to endure great fatigue, courage to face danger, determination

14 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

and ingenuity to meet and overcome difficulties — yet all these qualities he
deemed combined in Washington, who had barely reached the age of six
teen years. The committing of so important a trust to one so young,
seems almost inconceivable, and this fact is one of the best indications of
what the youth must have been, not only in bone and muscle, but in brain,
self-reliance, and maturity, at an age when most boys are thinking more of
their balls and kites than of the serious duties of life.

Washington eagerly accepted the proposal of Lord Fairfax, and imme
diately set about his preparations for departure, which occupied but a few
days. In company with George William Fairfax, a young man of twenty-
two years, son of William Fairfax, he set out in the saddle, during the
month of March, 1748. Mr. John S. C. Abbott, in his Life of Washing
ton, describes the experience of the young men in a manner character
istically picturesque. He says:

"The crests of the mountains were still whitened with ice and snow.
Chilling blasts swept the plains. The streams were swollen into torrents by
the spring rains. The Indians, however, whose hunting parties ranged
these forests, were at that time friendly. Still there were vagrant bands

wandering here and there, ever ready to kill and plunder

Though these wilds may be called pathless, still there were, here and there,
narrow trails which the moccasined foot of the savage had trodden for
uncounted centuries. They led, in a narrow track, scarcely two feet in
breadth, through dense thickets, over craggy hills, and along the banks of

placid streams or foaming torrents It was generally necessary

to camp at night wherever darkness might overtake them. With their axes
a rude cabin was easily constructed, roofed with bark, which afforded a com
fortable shelter from wind and rain. The forest presented an ample sup
ply of game. Delicious brook trout were easily taken from the streams.
Exercise and fresh air gave appetite. With a roaring fire crackling before
the camp, illumining the forest far and wide, the adventurers cooked their
supper and ate it with a relish such as the pampered guests in lordly ban
queting halls have seldom experienced. Their sleep was probably more
sweet than was ever found on beds of down. Occasionally they would find
shelter for the night in the wigwam of the friendly Indian."

In amusing contrast to this rose-colored view of life in the woods, are
the terse and evidently feeling words, from the pen of Washington him
self, recorded in his journal under date of March 15, 1748: "Worked hard
till night and then returned. After supper we were lighted into a room, and
I, being not so good a woodman as the rest, stripped myself very orderly
and went into the bed, as they call it, when, to my surprise, I found it to
be nothing but a little straw matted together, without sheet or anything else,
but only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was
glad to get up and put on my clothes and lie as my companions did. Had

^^•^v^ll V

>Vr'"^^y

CHILDHOOD AND EDUCATION. Ij

we not been very tired, I am sure we should not have slept much that night.
I made a promise to sleep no more in a bed, choosing rather to sleep in the
open air before a fire." Again, after being much longer away from home,
Washington says in a letter to a friend: "Yours gave me the more pleas
ure as I received it among barbarians and an uncouth set of people. Since
you received my letter of October last, I have not slept above three or four
nights in a bed. But after walking a good deal all the day, I have lain down
before the fire on a little hay, straw, fodder, or bear skin, whichever was
to be had, with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats, and happy is he
who gets nearest the fire. I have never had my clothes off, but have lain
and slept in them, except the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg. "

With these and similar experiences, Washington and his companion, with
their little party, consisting of an Indian guide and a few white attendants,
continued through the weary weeks and months occupied in the fulfillment
of their mission. This work was well and thoroughly done ; the surveys
made were afterwards proved to be careful and accurate. The party finally
returned to civilization on the I2th day of April, 1749, more than a year
after they set out. The report made to Lord Fairfax proved a source of
immediate profit to Washington, who, though but a little more than seven
teen years of age, was soon after made one of the official surveyors of the
colony of Virginia. His late employer soon removed to a point in the
newly surveyed territory, beyond the Blue Ridge, where he set aside ten
thousand acres of land, to constitute his home estate, and projected a
grand manor and house, after the Knglish style. The proposed site of
this dwelling, which, though Abbott describes it in glowing terms, was
never built, is about twelve miles from the present village of Winchester.

Washington pursued his labors with the additional sanction given by
his office, which entitled his surveys to become a matter of official record.
As will be readily understood, the demand for such services in a new coun
try was great, and, as the number of competent men was small, his labors
commanded a correspondingly large remuneration. So for three years he
continued, patiently working; his ability and industry commanding respect
and gaining a daily wider recognition. He was so accurate in all
his processes that no considerable error was ever charged against him,
and a title, finding its basis in one of his surveys, was rarely disputed.
The minute acquaintance with the soil, timber, and other natural advan
tages of the region, thus obtained, proved of great practical value to him in
after years, when his increased wealth needed investment; much of the
finest land which he surveyed passed into his hands, and was later owned by
members of the Washington family. He held his office of colonial sur
veyor for three years, when he resigned it to accept more important trusts.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER III.

THE CAUSES OF THE FRENCH WAR.

WHILE it is the intention to restrict this work, so far as possible,
to the simple record of Washington's life, it is impossible that
such a biography should be adequately written or fairly understood,
unless collateral matters are to a degree explained. Washington had,
at the age of nineteen years, reached the time when it was fated that he
should put aside his own interests, turn his back upon home and friends
and, in the service of the colony and the crown, take his first hard object-
lessons in diplomacy and war. That the circumstances may be under
stood, and just conclusions attained, it is necessary to give a cursory view
of the circumstances that led to the complications of the time, and to the
ensuing war between France and England, for supremacy in America.

The fundamental differences arose thus : John Cabot, in 1497, crossed
the Atlantic, and discovered the coast of Labrador. This result was enough
to satisfy his immediate ambition, and he went back to England, leaving it for
his son, Sebastian, who had been his companion, to return, during the
ensuing year, and pursue the exploration. Sebastian sailed the same
course, and, reaching Labrador, turned southward and skirted the continent,
keeping the coast always in sight, as far as the latitude of Hatteras, when,
provisions falling short, he, in turn, sailed back to England. By virtue of
this cruise, England claimed the entire unknown breadth of the North
American continent, between the parallels of latitude bounding Cabot's
coastwise exploration. Many colonial and personal grants of territory were
made upon this basis — that of Virginia, for example, being defined north
and south by its coast line, and east and west limited only by the extent of
the land. As an instance of combined ignorance and prodigality, it is also
interesting to note that King Charles I., in the fifth year of his reign,
granted to "his loyal servant, Sir Charles Heath," all that part of North
America bounded by the thirty-first and thirty-sixth degrees of north lati

THE CAUSES OF THE FRENCH WAR. \J

tude, and extending the entire width of the continent. Truly a very liberal
gift!

The French, on the other hand, discovered the mouth of the St. Law
rence in 1508 ; in 1525 took formal possession of the country, and, between
that time and 1671, pushed their explorations and claims of discovery
through the entire chain of lakes, building forts, establishing trading posts,
and founding missions as far as Lake Superior. In 1673 Pere Marquette
and his companions discovered the Mississippi ; in 1680 Pere Hennepin fol
lowed the great river to its source, and in 1681 La Salle made his wonderful
canoe voyage down the river to its mouth. De Soto, the Spanish adven
turer, in 1541, discovered the Mississippi, near its mouth, but did not
extend his exploration. By right of these various discoveries the French
claimed the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, together with the entire
region drained by either of the great rivers. The immense extent of the
territory involved in this claim will at once be appreciated. It includes
the great central basin of the United States, extending from the Rocky
mountains to the Alleghanics, and from the lakes to the head waters of
the gulf rivers, the entire Mississippi valley, the northern slope of the
watershed of New York and New England, as well as the southern slope of
the vast territory north of the St. Lawrence and the lakes.

The first clash directly arising from this conflict of domain was when,
in 1699, D'Iberville entered the mouth of the Mississippi, with two French
war vessels, and encountered an English exploring ship. The latter was
.ordered to depart forthwith and, compelled by the superior force of the
French, its captain withdrew, having first entered a formal protest.

The claims of England and France remained in abeyance so long as the
colonies of each were in their infancy. Circumstances had led to the establish
ment of the English settlements upon the eastern sea coast, from Massa
chusetts to South Carolina, in territory indisputably English by right. The
French colonies extended from Quebec to Superior, along the lakes. They
were not immediately in the way of England's ambition, and she was too
busy in assuring the doubtful fortunes of her own settlements, and with the
critical condition of affairs at home, to notice encroachments upon Lake
Champlain, and at other points, within the territory more nearly in her
path. There was so vast a territory, and so great opportunity for trade,
in proportion to the scattered population, that, until well toward the middle
of the eighteenth century, the disputed claims were of little immediate
moment. So the French continued to exchange cheap guns and knives for
fine furs, in the North and Northwest — the English to receive fine furs for
cheap knives and guns in the East ; the English to build their comfortable,
wide-doored houses in Virginia — the French to teach the Lake Superior
Indians to pray to, and, it is to be feared, to swear by, every saint in the
calendar.

1 8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

By the year 1750, however, there were well towards three millions of
English upon the coast, while the French, though weaker in numbers, were
pushing their enterprises far to the southward. There is no question that
the French showed a shrewdness far greater than that of the English.
Wherever their traders went, permanent trading posts were established, and
every post, despite its harmless name, was, in fact, a fort, surrounded by
palisades, pierced with loop-holes and impregnable to an ordinary attack.
Cannon frowned from the walls of many, and thus, under the specious pre
text of protection against the Indians, the French had guarded and secured
every step in advance, even to the valley of La Belle Riviere, as they had
re-christened the Ohio.

The traders of the French and English colonies were beginning to
meet upon the debatable ground west of the Alleghanies, and as they were,
for the most part, rude and lawless men, feeling ran high between them,
and personal encounters were not infrequent. It became the desire of the
Virginia colony to gain a foothold in this fertile territory, and, using the
settlements as a base of operations, to win control of the trade which they
deemed to be theirs as a matter of right. Hence, some of the foremost
men of the region, among whom were Lawrence and Augustine Washing
ton, organized, in the year 1749, a colonization company, and obtained for
it a charter in the name of the Ohio company, and a grant from the crown
of five hundred thousand acres of land, west of the Alleghany mountains,
and between the Monongahela and Kanawha rivers, with the right, if
deemed wise, to take up a portion of the land north of the Ohio. The
only conditions attached to the grant were that the company should set
apart two-fifths of its land, settle one hundred families upon it within seven
years, and build, equip, garrison, and maintain a fort, at its own expense,
"for defense against the Indians." This explanatory clause is a little amus
ing, when it is considered that the ease with which the valuable grant and
franchise were obtained, was accounted for by the fact that the Government
was glad to substantially encourage any movement which might check the
serious encroachments of the French.

In the course of the same year the Governor of Canada, doubtless
apprised of the plan of the Virginians, sent Celeron de Bienville, with a
force of three hundred men, on a mission, having, for its alleged object, the
making of peace among the warring Indian tribes upon the Ohio. Perhaps
the industrious and effective talking which he did with the chiefs, in the
effort to prevail upon them to cease trading with the English, and his liberal
distribution of gifts, were only incidental, but the fact that the envoy nailed
to trees and buried in the earth metallic plates, bearing inscribed upon them
a statement of the French claim to the Ohio valley, gives the affair an
appearance of deliberation, and lays the noble Governor open to the charge
of a disingenuousness, such as neither party hesitated to profit by.

THE CAUSES OF THE FRENCH WAR. 1^

The Ohio company had already imported goods suitable for its antici
pated trade, prepared for sending out a colony, and offered liberal rewards
to the discoverer of the best and safest road over the mountains, when came
word of the visit of De Bienville and his open claim of French sovereignty.
By this time Lawrence Washington was at the head of the Ohio company,
and he at once determined upon taking prompt and decisive steps. The
unwelcome news from the Ohio was tempered, to a degree, by the statement
that DC Bienville had overreached himself in posting his warning to tres
passers. The Indians had become suspicious of an intention, on the part of
the French, to seize their lands, and sent a messenger assuring the English
of their unchanged friendship, accompanying the same with three strings of
wampum as tokens of amity.

These movements on the part of the French were sufficient to arouse
the colony of Virginia to the highest pitch of excitement and activity.
The Governor dispatched a messenger, in the person of Christopher Gist,
a hardy pioneer, to explore the lands of the Ohio company, with a view to
ascertaining the fitness of various sections for cultivation ; also to recon
noitre with a view to discovering the points be suited for the establish
ment of trading posts and forts ; to conciliate the Indians by means of gifts,
so that their assistance or neutrality might be relied upon, and to return with
all speed with his report. After crossing the mountains, Gist fell in with
George Croghan, bound upon a somewhat similar embassy from the Governor
of Pennsylvania, and the two proceeded together, penetrating as far as the
Indian village of Piqua, upon the site of the present town of that name.
Their mission was, in the main, successful. They gained the ear of the
Miami Indians, just before the arrival of a deputation of Ottawas, who
came bearing overtures from the French. These were repulsed, their gifts
of brandy and tobacco — dear to the Indian heart — refused, and their
wampum speech belts returned. The latter act is symbolical of breaking
off friendly relations, and finds its equivalent, in civilized diplomacy, in the
recall of ministers. The chiefs of most of the tribes agreed to attend a
council with Pennsylvania, at Logtown, an important Indian village on
the Ohio, and Gist made the arduous and perilous journey homeward,
arriving upon the outskirts of the settlements in May, 1750, having been
engaged for more than six months. In the meantime the discomfited
Ottawas' had returned from Piqua to Fort Sandusky, and the French,
desiring at all hazards to prevent or render ineffective the Logtown council,
sent one Captain Joncaire, a veteran in Indian diplomacy, to attend.
This Joncaire did, but all his eloquence and gifts failed to move the Indians,
and he returned to those who sent him with a most unsatisfactory report.

The war spirit was now thoroughly aroused on each side. The French
built and armed a large vessel of war, for service on Lake Ontario, fell to
strengthening their posts upon the frontier, and to building new defenses in

2O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the Ohio valley. On the part of the colonies the preparations were not so
radical, nor so wisely directed, but they were sufficiently active. They
lacked the system and unity that was easy for the French to attain, but
almost an impossibility with isolated, independent, and not entirely har
monious settlements. In Virginia activity was at its height, and the colony
was divided into districts, each having an adjutant-general, with the rank and
pay of a major, whose duty it was to superintend the recruiting, equip
ment, and drill of troops. To one of these places Washington, though but
nineteen years of age, was appointed, at the solicitation of his brother
Lawrence. He at once entered upon the discharge of his duties with the
energy and determination that marked him in every enterprise. Two of
Lawrence's companions in his Spanish campaign, Adjutant Muse and Ja
cob VanBraam, were employed as his instructors — the former in the
manual of arms and tactics ; the latter in fencing and general sword exer
cise. Thus the quiet country house at Mt. Vernon, became a salle <£
armes and rang with noisy exercise from morning until night, as one or
other of the professors of the art of war coached his pupil for the expected
service.

Washington's study and service were soon sadly interrupted by the ill
ness of his favorite brother, who was advised to spend the approaching
winter in a warmer climate, as the only possibility of saving his life. Con
sequently the two went together to Barbadoes whence, after remaining some
time, Lawrence determined to remove and spend the remainder of the winter
and the spring at Bermuda, and George returned to Virginia to escort the
sick man's wife to his side. The determination that Mrs. Washington
should attempt the journey was, however, altered. Lawrence remained at
Bermuda until summer, when he returned to Mt. Vernon, only to die on the
26th day of July, 1752. He left a very large estate to an infant daughter,
with the provision that, if she should die without issue, it was to belong to
his widow for life and then pass to George. The latter was made one of the
executors, and from that time, the charge of his brother's estate was added
to his responsibilities. Heavy as was this olow to Washington, matters of
grave importance forbade that he should indulge his grief. He was soon
re-appointed adjutant-general and assigned to the northern and most impor
tant district of the colony. The duties of the place engrossed him, until still
graver responsibilities were placed upon his shoulders.

A great council between the mixed tribes, that had emigrated from the
northeast and settled in the Ohio valley, and the representatives of Vir
ginia, had concluded an alliance between the people of that colony and the
majority of the Indians of the region. Of the important chiefs, only the
sachem of the Six Nations was absent. The principal chief of the mixed
tribes, Tanacharisson, generally termed the Half King by reason of his sub
ordination to the Iroquois confederacy, was, as he had been from the first and

THE CAUSES OF THE FRENCH WAR

always continued, faithful to the English. The Indians were very indignant
at the advances made by the French in their territory, and the English, on
their side, were filled with apprehension for the safety of their settlements,
which had been made under the inducements held out by the Ohio company.
The French had given notice that all English found trading west of the
Alleghanies would be made prisoners, and their goods confiscated ; and
these threats had been carried into effect in several instances. Hence the
Half King went to the post at Sandusky and made a personal protest
against the advances of the French, and a demand for the removal of their
troops and posts from his territories. His protest and he himself were
received with the utmost contempt, and he was dismissed to his home, very
angry and much humiliated, carrying with him the wampum speech belt
which had been the symbol of his amity with the French. The English had
now apparently no recourse but force. The French were evidently making
an effort to connect the gulf and the lakes by a chain of posts, to set up
defenses at all strategic points in the valley, and thus, while so much time
was being wasted in idle diplomacy, to establish themselves beyond the dan
ger of being ousted.

KEDOl'UT AT PITTSWUKG1I, BUILT IN 1764.

22 GEORGE WASHINGTON

CHAPTER IV.

THE EXPEDITION TO FRENCH CREEK.

YET one more effort was made to come to a pacific settlement. A mes
senger, Captain Trent, was sent to the French commander in the val
ley, to demand the withdrawal of his forces and traders from the terri
tory of the king of England. Trent proved a coward and, finding that the
French had already begun active operations, by an attack upon the friendly
Indians at Piqua, returned to Virginia without having even made an attempt
to fulfill his mission. This placed the Governor and the Ohio company in a
quandary. For a long time no one could be found, willing to undertake the
hazardous task of fulfilling Trent's abandoned mission. At last Washing
ton volunteered and his services were eagerly accepted. He received
his credentials on the 3Oth day of October, 1753, and set off on the same
day upon his toilsome and dangerous expedition. According to his instruc
tions he was to proceed first to Logtown, confer with the Half King and
other friendly chiefs, then push his way with all despatch, accompanied by
such escort of Indians as he could obtain, to the headquarters of the French
commandant, deliver his written communication, receive an answer, if one
were furnished within a week, then make the best of his way homeward.
He was also charged to make every observation and inquiry possible with
out exciting suspicion, directed to ascertaining the force of the French, the
number and situation of their posts, and the facilities which they might
possess for a movement, by land or water, upon the English frontiers.
This was no light charge for a man experienced in affairs of the kind ;
for one of but twenty-two years, and utterly without such experience, it
seems almost absurd.

Washington proceeded at once to Logtown ; the chiefs expressed
themselves as devoted to the cause of their " English brothers," said they
would accompany him and return all speech belts to the French, and give
him all the assistance in their power. He was, after the fashion of

THE EXPEDITION TO FRENCH CREEK. 23

young men, impatient to take them at their word and proceed at once,
but he soon found that he was in danger of offending the ideas of the most
dignified and punctilious diplomatists in the world. Hence, chafing with
inward impatience, he was fain to bide his time during the three days con
sumed by his allies, in discussing the expedition, collecting their important
belts, and making preparation. At last, much to his relief, they announced
their readiness to proceed, but also said they had decided that but
three of their number and a hunter should accompany him, as a greater
escort would be likely to excite suspicion. There was probably more reason
for this temporizing than the mere desire to conduct affairs of state in a
decent and orderly manner. The situation of the Indian tribes of the Ohio
valley was critical in the extreme, and they were the first to recognize the
fact. They were hemmed in on either side by civilizations foreign to
their traditions, and which they could but recognize as superior to their
own rude devices of war. These two alien forces were in antagonism with
each other, and for what? Even an Indian could discern that the wooded
hills, the rich plains and the broad streams of the central valley, formed the
object of the strife. It is not improbable that the wisest of them recog
nized the uselcssness of armed struggle against the white invader. At all
events they felt the danger which threatened their race; they saw impend
ing a struggle, of which their possessions were to be the scene, into which
they must almost inevitably be drawn, and which was likely to result in the
expulsion of one or the other contestant from the land.

It did not require the perspicuity of a Talleyrand, to see that, under such
circumstances, the question of alliance was a very important one; if made
with the victors, it promised the Indians, for the time being at least, security
in their homes and lands; if, on the other hand, they should range themselves
with the losing side, there seemed nothing before them but spoliation, exile
and death. What did they care for French or English? One was the upper,
the other the nether millstone ; their people, like grains of wheat, were fall
ing between the two, to be mercilessly crushed and destroyed. What were
their treaties worth, that they should be kept? These people, one and all,
were invaders of a continent, theirs from time immemorial; already the whole
sea coast had been wrested from them, and now there was to be a war, to
determine which of their despoilers was to possess other lands to which only
they had claim.

There is little doubt that the Half King and his colleagues thought well
before they took the step that should irrevocably commit them to antago
nism with the French. They knew that, should they go to the lake forts,
and offer their friendship and alliance, they would still be received with open
arms, loaded with gifts and protected, so far as the French power could pro
tect them. The French had been much more active than the English; they
were already strongly placed in the valley, and had the advantage of being

24 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

able to move a large force by water into its very heart, while the English,
before they could gain the same ground, must make the weary and difficult
march over the mountains, subjected at every step to ambuscades. All
these considerations were doubtless weighed, during those three days.
What turned the balance in favor of the English will never be known, but
turned it was and very fortunately, for the service of the Half King and
his warriors was of inestimable value in the war that followed.

Before setting out from Logtown, Washington obtained some interest
ing and important information. From an. Indian trader named Frazier, who
had recently been driven by the French from the Indian village of
Venango, where he had a trading store and gun shop, was acquired a very
just idea of the force of the French, and the further information that their
commander had recently died, and that they were now in winter quarters.
Three French soldiers, who had set out from New Orleans for the upper
river posts, with a convoy of provisions, having deserted, passed through
Logtown and gave him a very full statement of the number, position, and
strength of the Mississippi defenses. From the Half King he learned that
the French were concentrating their forces at the headwaters of the Alle
gheny, preparatory to descending the river in force, in the spring, by means
of bateaux and canoes. "They have built," said Tanacharisson, "two
forts, one on French creek, and the other at its mouth, fifteen miles distant,
and connected the two by a wagon road." The direct way to these forts,
at one of which the commander would be found, was impassable, by reason
of recent rains, and it would be necessary to go by way of Venango, which
would so prolong the journey as to require six days for its accomplishment.

On the 3Oth day of November the little party set out upon its march,
over roads in the worst possible condition — so bad, indeed, that Venango,
though but seventy miles distant, was not reached until the 4th day of the
following month. There they found the French flag flying, and, as officer
in command, the same Joncaire upon whom the French had relied to break
up the grand council at Logtown. Joncaire was at first evidently willing to
be regarded as in command of the Ohio, but, finding the mission to be one
of real importance, referred them to his superior officer at the next fort.
He received the party with the greatest politeness, and invited Washington
and his interpreter, Van Braam (the quondam master of fence), to dine with
himself and his brother officers that evening. At the appointed time all sat
down to a very jovial meal ; the bottle passed freely ; Washington having
the good sense to drink no more than courtesy demanded, for the most part
leaving Van Braam to represent him in that particular, an office for which
the taste and capacity of the old Dutchman amply qualified him The
Frenchmen were not so discreet, and, after the meal had advanced to a
certain point, became very communicative regarding the plans and inten
tions of their superiors. They avowed their determination to take posses-

THE EXPEDITION TO FRENCH CREEK. 2$

sion of the Ohio, to drive out all settlers and traders, and to establish the
supremacy which they claimed as belonging to France by virtue of the dis
coveries of La Salle.

Washington had wisely, and, thus far, successfully, endeavored to pre
vent his Indian companions from falling into Joncaire's company. In the
morning, probably through Van Braam's indiscretion, Joncaire found that
the Half King was one of Washington's escort. He expressed the greatest
surprise that the sachem should come to Venango without visiting him, and
insisted that he and the two chiefs that were his companions, should at
once be brought to his quarters to share in a feast. The three came, and
Joncaire, understanding as he did every phase of the Indian character,
plied them alternately with gifts and liquor until Tanacharisson was, meta
phorically speaking, under the table, his confreres in a state not much to be
preferred, and all loud in maudlin praise of French liberality and friendli
ness. From all this Washington escaped at last, richer by much informa
tion, poorer by the dubious condition and loyalty of his red allies.

Upon the following day the Half King came to him very much ashamed
of his exploit, and full of protestations of good faith. At this point an
immediate movement seemed easy, but, a heavy rain storm coming up, it
was necessarily delayed, and the Indians of the party subjected still farther
to influences that Washington could not but know were very dangerous.
Tanacharisson declared that he intended to make his speech, relinquish
ing the friendship of the French and returning the speech belts, to the sub
ordinate, Joncaire, rather than to the general officer, and persisted, in spite
of Washington's objections, in at once so doing. Joncaire very cleverly
managed to evade acceptance of the belts, and referred the chief to the com
mandant on French creek. During the whole of that day and the next,
the party was detained at Venango, by solicitations of Joncaire, directed at
the Indians, and when, on the morning of December 7th, they set out, it
was only to find themselves accompanied by a French officer, named La
Force, and three soldiers, who pleaded some excuse for the journey, but
evidently went as a foil to Washington's influence with the chiefs.

Four days more were occupied in reaching the fort, which was found to
be guarded by strong palisades and armed with artillery. A new command
ant — the Chevalier Legardeur de St. Pierre, — was found in charge. He
received Washington with all the ceremony usual to such an occasion, and
thus gave the young man his first view of civilized diplomacy. The cheva
lier declined to receive or examine the papers presented, until the arrival of
the officer whom he had lately relieved. This occurred within a few
hours, when the communication of the Governor was received by the
two, who retired to a private room and read it, by the assistance of their
translator. After this was over Washington and Van Braam were called
in and the translation compared and corrected. The purport of

26 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the letter was, as has been indicated, a simple demand for the with
drawal of French forces, and the relinquishment of French occupancy of
"the western portion of the colony of Virginia, so notoriously known
to be the property of the crown of Great Britain/' The letter closed
as follows : "I persuade myself you will receive and entertain Major
Washington with the candor and politeness natural to your nation, and it
will give me the greatest satisfaction if you can return him with an answer
suitable to my wishes for a long and lasting peace between us." It
must be said, in justice to the Chevalier de St. Pierre, that he did
receive and treat Washington with the most distinguished courtesy.
The two days following were consumed in council by the French officers,
while Washington made notes regarding the strength of the fortifications,
and the number of canoes already prepared and those building, for use in
conveying an army down the river in the spring. His men were also
instructed to be observant, and it is safe to say that there was little of detail
or floating information that did not come into their possession.

On the evening of the I4th Washington received a sealed letter in
answer to the message of Governor Dinwiddie. In the meantime (and this
was probably the secret of the detention, for the letter was not such as to
have required so much consideration) every effort had been made to seduce
the Indian escort from their faith with the English. Washington, discover
ing this fact, urged the Half King to make an immediate return of his
wampum speech belts and so cut loose from French influence. He at last
succeeded in arranging a private audience between the chiefs and the com
mander, and Tanacharisson tendered the belts in a speech very similar in
import to that made at Fort Sandusky, and to the one delivered to Joncaire.
The chevalier, by the most consummate finesse, evaded accepting the belts,
and gave, instead, many protestations of friendship and the promise to send
a large quantity of valuable presents to Logtown, when the chiefs should
return. The efforts of the French were successful in detaining the party
until the I5th, when they at last departed, Washington's canoes liberally
stored with liquors and provisions, the Indians loaded with presents and a
large amount of gifts, in addition, packed in canoes and under charge of
French soldiers, to be distributed to the tribe at Logtown. It was
not until the 22d that the canoes reached Venango, where the pack-
horses were in waiting. There Washington, sorely against his will,
was obliged to leave the chiefs in the doubtful society of Joncaire, one of
them, White Thunder by name, having met with an accident that incapaci
tated him for travel. The Half King assured him, however, that he knew
the French too well to be misled by anything they might do or say, and
that there need be no fears of his loyalty, and these protestations, unlike
many made by the Indians, proved to be sincere.

Washington pushed on with his little train, but his pack-horses, over-

THE EXPEDITION TO FRENCH CREEK. 2?

laden and obliged to plunge through snow and mud, soon began to show
signs of failing. He gave up his own saddle-horse for the service, and
marched on foot to a point on the southeast fork of Beaver creek. At this
place, becoming impatient of the slow progress made, he donned an Indian
dress, strapped a pack upon his back, and, accompanied by the woodsman
Gist, heretofore mentioned, who was one of his party, struck through the
woods on foot, in a line as nearly as possible directly toward the settle
ments.

Soon after thus leaving his little escort Washington and his companion
fell in, at a place bearing the unpromising name of Murdering Town, with a
number of Indians who, while expressing the utmost friendliness, betrayed
by their questions that they were already possessed of information that
could only have come from the French. Hence it was with much regret
that he acknowledged the necessity of engaging one of them as a guide, for
the journey through the trackless and unknown wilderness that lay before
him. He was, however, compelled to make such acknowledgment and to
trust his safety to such doubtful leadership. Pushing on, through the thick
woods, the Indian in advance, Washington soon became satisfied that the
direction taken was not the right one. He tasked the guide with treachery,
but received only surly and unsatisfactory answers. For some time the
march was continued in the same direction, when, being lame with much
walking, Washington suggested going into camp. The Indian objected, on
the ground that the light of their fires would be likely to attract some wan
dering band of hostiles, and said that if they would but continue a little
farther they would reach his own lodge, where they could sleep safely. So
they pushed on. Night began to gather and soon, in the shade of the dense
woods, it was almost impossible to sec their way. Fmerging at last into a
clearing, or natural opening, the young leader peremptorily ordered a camp
to be arranged, saying that he would go no farther. In the opening, the
stars shining upon the snow rendered objects at some distance distinctly
visible. The Indian walked a few paces in advance of his companions
and, turning, suddenly presented his rifle and fired. Washington, find
ing himself safe and ascertaining that Gist had also escaped, pur
sued the treacherous savage, and, joined by Gist, the two captured
the fugitive when in the act of reloading his gun. Gist, with the instinct
of a veteran backwoodsman, was for shooting the captive at once,
but Washington forbade his doing so, and the man was deprived of
his rifle, compelled to build a fire and assist in cooking a supper, then,
after being taken some distance in a new direction, — that in which
Washington believed their true course to lie, was dismissed, probably very
much puzzled at the clemency of his captors. Gist insisted that, as they
had been so unwise as to liberate the man, they must needs push on during
the night, so that they might be out of the neighborhood before he could

28 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

obtain assistance and return. Hence, though Washington was partially dis
abled and both were terribly fatigued, they tramped on in the darkness,
with nothing better than a guess of their direction, until, just at daybreak,
they reached the bank of the Allegheny. Much to their disappointment
they found that, in spite of the intense cold, the stream was not frozen,
except for a short distance on either hand — these margins skirting the
swollen and turbid current, which carried with it great blocks arid masses
of ice. In spite of a day and night of incessant marching, which had
nearly prostrated both with fatigue, Washington and Gist fell to work with
their only tools, — a small hatchet and their hunting knives, — to make a raft.
Logs were cut, shaped, and fastened with grape tendrils, but so slow
was the progress made, that darkness found the work but just completed,
and it was necessary to wait for morning before the raft could be launched.
At daybreak this difficult work was accomplished, and the perilous opera
tion of propelling the frail affair across the river with poles was begun. In
mid-stream the raft, striking a great cake of ice, gave way, the logs sepa
rated and the two passengers fell into the bitterly cold water. Fortunately
each seized a log and, as if in the especial care of Providence, the logs and
men were floated upon an island lying in mid-stream, a short distance below
where the accident occurred. Their guns, powder, and blankets, too, were
saved, and they succeeded in erecting, a bark shelter and building a fire
upon the island, where they were at least safe from the Indians. Gist's
hands and feet were frozen, but Washington suffered no ill effects from his
bath and exposure. Upon awaking in the morning, they discovered that
the stream was frozen quite across, and were able to walk to shore without
difficulty. Before night they reached the house of Frazier, the Indian
trader on the Monongahela, at the mouth of Turtle creek. There Washing
ton was detained for three days before he could buy a horse, which, having
obtained, he pushed on across the mountains, stopped one day with the
Fairfax family at Belvoir, then hastened on to Williamsburg and delivered
to the hands of Governor Dinwiddie the papers obtained from the French
commandant. The reply of the Chevalier de St. Pierre was the only one a
military officer acting under instructions could make — polite, politic,
evasive. After saying that he would transmit the communication of Gov
ernor Dinwiddie to the Governor of Canada, in whom, rather than in him,
it would be becoming to speak for the king, concerning the merits of a
matter so important, he wrote, referring to his personal action :

"As to the summons you send me to retire, T do not think myself
obliged to obey it. Whatever may be your instructions, I am here by
virtue of the orders of my general ; and I entreat you, sir, not to doubt
one rnoment that I am determined to conform myself to them with all the
exactness and resolution that can be expected of the best officer."

The publication of this letter and of the journal kept by Washington

THE EXPEDITION TO FRENCH CREEK.

during his journey, created the greatest excitement, both in the colonies
and in England. War was now inevitable, and the mother country was for
the first time awakened to the necessity for speedy and decisive action as
the only means of preserving her imperilled American possessions.

BRADDOCK'S BATTLEFIELD AS IT APPEARS TO-DAY.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER V.

WASHINGTON'S FIRST CAMPAIGN.

WASHINGTON awoke to find himself a marked man ; everywhere
in Virginia he was looked upon as the leader of the rising genera
tion in the colony, while in England his name was heard in every club and
drawing-room, and was prominent in the deliberations of grave cabinet
councils.

Immediately upon the receipt of his report, it was determined that
active steps be taken to forcibly oppose the further advance of the French,
and, to this end, the same Captain Trent, who had proven himself so cow
ardly and incompetent upon a former expedition, was dispatched to the
frontier, to raise a company of one hundred men, with orders to proceed to
the point near the junction of the Allegheny and the Monongahela,
where the Ohio company was engaged in erecting a fort; Washington
was commissioned to raise a like force at Alexandria, and, forming a
junction with Trent, to assume command of the entire body. An appli
cation was made to the sister colonies for aid in the movement, but the
same lack of unity and harmony that had frustrated other efforts of
the kind, proved equally efficacious in this case, and no substantial result
was obtained. Governor Dinwiddie met with great difficulty in persuading
the Virginia House of Burgesses to vote funds for the military chest, and it
was only with infinite pains that an appropriation of the beggarly sum of
ten thousand pounds was grudgingly made, "for the purpose of protecting
settlers on the waters of the Mississippi." Upon securing these funds, Din
widdie concluded to increase the levy of men to three hundred, and the
command of all was again offered to Washington, but he modestly declined
it, preferring to retain his original commission, raise a company and then
to act under orders. Colonel Joshua Fry was consequently placed in charge
of the anticipated expedition, and Washington was made second in com
mand, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. As the event proved, the

WASHINGTON'S FIRST EXPEDITION. 31

younger officer was destined, in spite of his preferences, to assume the
practical command of the force, and to bear the brunt of much unjust
criticism.

Preparations for the march were not rapidly advanced until Governor
Dinwiddie adopted, for the first time, an expedient that has often since served
the American people in their times of need. He made a proclamation set
ting aside two hundred thousand acres of land on the Ohio river, to be
divided as bounty among the soldiers volunteering for this service against
the French. As a consequence of this measure, Washington was enabled to
march from Alexandria for the new fort, on the 2nd day of April, 1754, with
one hundred and fifty men of his regiment, leaving the advance of the
remainder in the hands of his superior officer. The instructions given the
leaders of the force, arc thus formulated by the somewhat imaginative
Abbott: "March rapidly across the mountains; disperse, capture, or kill all
persons, not subjects of the king of Great Britain, who are attempting to take
possession of the territory of his majesty on the banks of the Ohio river
or any of its tributaries." This was a serious undertaking, and was no
doubt so regarded by the young officer, who led his undisciplined and ill
equipped little band across the steep and rugged way that lay between the
home of the rather pragmatical and pompous Governor and the objective
point of the march. It now seems ridiculous that so inefficient and slender a
force should have been sent out for the execution of such sounding orders,
but so it was, and perhaps even Washington, counting upon a shelter in the
new fort, may have been sanguine of success. It is impossible to recount
at length the history of this expedition ; vexed, hampered, and crippled by
the economy of the Burgesses, the insufficiency of every manner of equip
ment and the imbecility of his fellow-officers, Washington's lot was hard
indeed. At Winchester he was obliged to impress teams and wagons for
transportation, and even on those terms could obtain but few. Pushing on
to Wills creek, cutting a road as he went, that the wagons and artillery to
follow with the main body might pass, he arrived at that trading post of the
Ohio company, only to find that Captain Trent had given another evidence
of his incapacity by entirely failing to provide pack-horses for the arm}', as
he had undertaken to do. Before reaching Wills creek a report had come to
Washington, that Captain Trent and his entire force had been surprised and
captured by the French, and that the partially completed fort was in the
hands of the enemy. Upon arriving at the trading-post Trent was found;
the story of the capture he said had reached him as well, but he could
not say as to its truth, as he had left the camp several days before, and
the men were then safe and working busily at the fort. This cool dismissal
of the matter left Washington in much anxiety, for the time, but all doubt
was soon dispelled by the arrival at Wills creek of the fifty men from the
fort, bearing their working tools, and under command of an ensign. The

32 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

story of their experience was short, but it pointedly illustrated the stupidity
of the English, and the superior sagacity of the French. While working
upon the fort — not yet half finished — they had been surprised one morning
by the arrival of about one thousand French soldiers, under command of
Captain Contrecceur. This force was drawn up before the fort, its artillery
planted, and a summons sent in for the surrender of the works within one
hour, with the added statement that if surrender were not so made, fire
would be at once opened. Captain Frazier, the second in command, had
imitated his superior officer and gone to his home, ten miles distant, leaving
the command in the hands of the young subaltern referred to. When the
demand for surrender came, the latter sought the French commander and
endeavored to gain time by pleading insufficiency of rank. Captain Con
trecceur was, however, inflexible, and the young officer was perforce
obliged to accept the best terms he could — freedom for .himself and men to
retire with their tools.

Washington now determined to push forward to the company's advance
storehouse, at the mouth of Redstone creek, fortify himself, and await rein
forcements. He sent an urgent message to the Governor of Virginia, recit
ing the condition of affairs, and dwelling upon the immediate necessity for
men, stores, artillery, and ammunition, if he were to cope with the superior
and better disciplined force of the enemy. He also sent messages to the
Governors of Maryland and Pennsylvania, soliciting aid, and runners to the
friendly Indian tribes with the same mission. He then pushed on, cutting
his road as he went, and moving, of necessity, so slowly that, setting out
on the 29th of April, he had, on the 7th of May, only reached the prairie
called Little Meadows, twenty miles from his starting point. Thence
he advanced in the same laborious manner, until he reached the banks of
the Youghiogheny river, where the necessity of building a bridge caused
a long delay. Pending the completion of the work, Lieutenant-colonel
Washington again wrote to Governor Dinwiddie, beseeching him to send
the assistance so necessary to success, representing that the enemy was
holding his position in force, having received large reinforcements of French
and Indians, that more Indians were moving to join him, and that he
was throwing all his energies into the erection of a fort at the junction of
the Allegheny and Monongahela, which, if completed and equipped, would
be practically impregnable, save to artillery.

During the building of the bridge, and on the 23d of May, came word
that half of the French force at Fort Duquesne had been detached for some
active service ; then followed a message from the Half King that this
detachment was made with the purpose of attacking the American force, and,
on the heels of this second message, a report that the French were crossing
the river in force, at a point but eighteen miles distant. Washington at
once retired to Great Meadows, threw up intrenchments, sent out a

reconnoitering party, and prepared for the expected attack. Nothing of
moment occurred on that night, or during the following day, save that news
came that La Force, with a body of French numbering fifty men, had
been seen prowling in the neighborhood. At night came another message
from the Half King, who was encamped, with some of his people, not far
from the Virginian force, that he had discovered the tracks of two French
men, leading in the direction of the French fort. These Washington
caused to be traced backward, by Indians, with the result of discovering the
camp of a French detachment, in a retired bottom, a few miles from the
Virginian position. He held a council with the Half King, and decided to
make an effort to surprise the enemy at daylight — the colonial and Indian
forces so approaching as to arrive from different directions at nearly the
same time, and thus, cutting off retreat at both sides, cither to insure a
victory by arms, or. to compel a surrender. The men consequently set off
through the thick darkness of the forest, the rain falling in torrents, and the
moaning wind effectually drowning the noise of their stealthy march.
Washington and his Virginians were first on the ground, and first discovered
by the French. As to what next occurred, accounts disagree, some his
torians maintaining that, as soon as the French recovered from their sur
prise, they seized their guns and opened fire upon the approaching force;
others holding that the English fired the opening volley, which was the first
of the bloody war between France and England, for supremacy upon Amer
ican soil. The firing continued very briskly, upon both sides, for some
twenty minutes, when the French, being outnumbered, broke and ran, and
all were killed, wounded or captured, save one, who escaped unharmed, to
bear the tidings to the fort. Jumonville, the French commander, and a
very gallant young officer, was killed at the first fire. Among the prisoners
were two officers, named Drouillon and La Force, the latter esteemed to be
one of the most mischievous of the many men employed by the French, as
go-betweens, in dealing with the Indians, and as scouts ami spies upon the
movements of the English. All these prisoners were dispatched to Vir
ginia, under guard, with a letter to the Governor, requesting that they be
treated as prisoners of war — Drouillon and La Force being especially
recommended to the consideration which their rank and position deserved.
At the same time, Washington thought it necessary to inform the Gov
ernor, by a private messenger, of the peculiarly artful and dangerous char
acter of La Force.

As if to increase the difficulties of his situation, news came of the death
of Colonel Fry, commander of the expedition, and, though the Governor
wrote that a successor had been appointed in the person of Colonel Junes,
Washington saw little prospect of being relieved from the responsibilities of
his position, and it indeed proved to be the case that neither Colonel Junes
nor the force which accompanied him ever saw service in the campaign.

34 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

The arrival of the men who had been under Fry's immediate command,
increased the force at Great Meadows to three hundred, and also added the
few light swivels that had ocen so toilsomely dragged over the mountains.
A letter to Washington from the Governor announced that an inde
pendent company of one hundred South Carolina troops, under the com
mand of Captain Mackay, would soon join him. With their arrival, which
occurred soon after, began the series of unfortunate misunderstandings as to
the matter of precedence between royal and colonial officers, that so greatly
impaired the efficiency of the English service during the war that followed.
Captain Mackay held a royal commission, and soon made it evident that he
did not intend to recognize Washington's rank under the commission of
the Governor of Virginia. Kis men shared the feeling, declined to submit
to the discipline of the camp, or to assist in the arduous labors of fort-build
ing and road-making, in whicn the Virginians were engaged ; they encamped
apart, maintained their own organization and routine, and, though blessed
with most excellent appetites, were never, throughout the campaign, other
than an incumbrance. As if ail these vexations were not enough, pro
visions fell short, and the young commander saw that but two courses were
open to him — a bold advance, which might result in victory, or a retreat,
which could not fail to demoralize the army, alienate the Indian allies, and
gravely imperil the ultimate chances for the maintenance of the English title
to the Ohio valley. Having completed his stockade at Great Meadows,
afterwards known as "Fort Necessity," and, leaving the South Carolina
men as its garrison, he therefore pushed forward with the Virginia force,
hoping to make Fort Duquesne by forced marches, and strike an effec
tive blow before the fort could be reinforced or completed.

He had advanced but thirteen miles when news was brought, by
friendly Indians, that a large additional body of French had arrived at Du
quesne, and that a considerable detachment, with Indian allies "as numer
ous as pigeons in the woods/' was advancing to attack him. His situation
was truly perilous; Fort Necessity could be reached from Fort Duquesne
by two roads, which united at the former point ; there was reason to fear, —
and the event justified the idea, — that the French would move by the second
road, place a strong force in his rear, and, hemming him into the narrow
and precipitous way, along which his line extended, cut his little force off
from all possibility of escape. Hence a forced retreat was at once com
menced, with the hope of reaching Wills creek. The South Carolina
troops were sent for, and, by the combined aid of the exhausted horses and
the Virginians (the South Carolinians refusing to assist) the guns and
baggage were transported as far as Fort Necessity, where the little band
arrived on the 1st of July. The men fairly refused to drag the guns
another step, and there was no alternative but to make a stand at the fort.
The work of digging a ditch about the palisade was at once commenced,

WASHINGTON'S FIRST EXPEDITION. 35

word of the peril of the force and the pressing need of reinforcements was
sent to Wills creek, and every possible preparation made for a vigorous
defense.

Before the ditch was completed, Washington's Indian allies deserted
him, being terrified at the idea of risking their lives and those of their wives
and children in so desperate a contest. On the following morning — that of
the 3d — Captain de Villiers, brother-in-law of De Jumonville, who had com
manded and fallen at the former skirmish, appeared before the fort with a
force of about five hundred French, and an Indian contingent of one thou
sand men, and at once began a furious attack. Washington drew his men
up outside the fort to receive the enemy, and sometimes in that order,
sometimes in the ditch, and sometimes in the fort, his men stood the terrible
fire of a force which five times outnumbered them, until nightfall ended the
fight. Then came a flag from De Villiers demanding a parley, and propos
ing terms of capitulation. Unfortunately the only officer of Washington's
fort who was thoroughly master of French was wounded, and Van Braam,
who had before served in that capacity, acted as interpreter. The first pro
posal and the second were rejected as being ignominious; the third was
submitted, translated, carefully considered, and at last accepted. It pro
vided that the fort should be surrendered, that its garrison should be allowed
the honors of war — to retain their small arms and baggage, and be per-
mitted to march out of the fort with colors flying and drums beating.
Their cannon were to be destroyed — indeed, as all the horses were killed
they could not be removed ; and the French, on their part, guaranteed that
the evacuating force should be allowed to return, without molestation, to
the inhabited portion of Virginia.

These were surely honorable terms ; it was upon one ciause that a vast
amount of most unjust abuse of Washington was, years afterward, based,
all, however, with a deliberate desire to injure him, for the benefit of his
political enemies. As has been said, the articles of capitulation were in
French. In one portion the death of Jumonville, already related, was
referred to as ' ' f assassinat du Sicur dc Jumowville" This sentence, liter
ally rendered, of course branded Washington as guilty of the munlcr of
Monsieur de Jumonville, but Van Braam, a Dutchman, understanding the
full force of neither French nor Fnglish, rendered it simply "the dcatJi of
Monsieur de Jumonville." Under the misapprehension thus arising, Wash
ington agreed to the terms of surrender. In accordance with these the
shattered band of colonial soldiers marched out of Fort Necessity on the
following morning, and, bearing their wounded, moved slowly and wearily
toward Wills creek. The killed and wounded of the Virginian force num
bered fifty-eight, of a total of three hundred ; what were the losses of the
independent company and the French force has never been stated.

It is unnecessary to farther follow the history of the campaign. The

36 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

force reached Winchester, after great hardships, and was ordered to remain
there and recruit. Washington, after making his report, hastened to Mount
Vernon to attend to his business, which had been sadly neglected. The
intrinsic importance of this unfortunate and abortive expedition was perhaps
not such as, in itself, to warrant the somewhat minute account here given,
but in other respects — in its effect in molding the mind of the young com
mander, in the experience which it gave him in managing men, in meeting
and overcoming difficulties, and in the addition to the hardening process
already well begun in the course of his earlier frontier life, its value was
incalculable. The expedition was an admirable preparation for the experi
ences through which Washington was destined to pass during the war of
Independence; then, as later, he led a small force against one vastly greater
in number ; a body of raw recruits against an army having every advantage
of discipline; an ill equipped, poorly armed, hungry, tattered body of men,
against one in every such particular the reverse of his own. He had,
too, much the same obstacles arising from incompetency among his fellow
officers, jealousy and questions of precedence cropping out at moments of
supreme peril ; imbecility and lack of encouragement on the part of
governors and legislators — the same weary and disheartening catalogue of
troubles and dangers to face, and in the midst of it all, then as twenty years
later, he was firm, self-contained, brave, modest, self-denying, and God
fearing, and, considering the stake, the smallness of the forces engaged
and the limited opportunities for distinction, the boy of twenty-two, who
brought his handful of men in safety from the perils that menaced it at
Fort Necessity, was deserving of no less honor than he who cheered, sus
tained, and kept coherent the freezing and starving army at Valley Forge.

Another and historically more important view of the expedition, arises
from the attacks then at intervals, and for years afterward, made upon
the character and discretion of Washington, by reason of the affair in which
Captain De Jumonville lost his life. The fact that La Force, the French
emissary, had upon his person, when captured, letters demanding the with
drawal of the English force from the territory to the west of the Allegha-
nies, was at the time urged by the prisoner, and has since been distorted
by enemies of Washington, to indicate that De Jumonville and his party
were bound upon a peaceful mission to Washington, and that the attack
upon them was a breach of military rules, and precipitated a bloody war.

Let us glance at the circumstances. But a few days before, a party of
Virginians, working in the construction of the fort near the confluence of
the Allegheny and Monongahcla, had been compelled, under threat of
armed attack, to retire from the fort and from the neighborhood. This was
an act of war, and began the struggle as definitely as if it had been preceded
by a formal declaration, and had resulted in the loss of a hundred lives.
Then, when the force commanded by De Jumonville, bearing the letter

WASHINGTON'S FIRST EXPEDITION. 37

referred to, advanced from the French camp, it did not move directly to
Washington's position, approach under cover of a flag of truce, deliver its
message, as it could and would have done had its ostensible mission been
its real one; on the contrary, De Jumonville kept his men in the vicinity,
but, as he supposed, concealed from the English commander. He bore
with him instructions to observe the position, force, and armament of the
English, and return tidings to his superior, and this he did, as the trail
of the two couriers, which finally betrayed him, clearly shows. There can
be no question that he came first on an errand of observation — that he was
a spy ; second, the evidence indicates that, had circumstances promised suc
cess, he was prepared to attack the main body of Washington's force, or
any portion of it that fell in his way ; third, that the letter demanding the
withdrawal of the English force was intended for the very purpose it was
made to serve, — as a shield in case of capture. The matter of the mistrans
lated phrase in the capitulation, has already been explained; on the face of
it, it is not likely that Washington, opposed by a vastly superior force, with
defeat and annihilation staring him in the face, would have twice sent back
a messenger, bearing terms of capitulation which he refused to accept, by
reason of some matter of detail or military etiquette, only to knowingly
accede to the terms of a third that branded him as a murderer. Upon
Washington's return from the campaign he received a vote of commenda
tion and thanks from the Virginia House of Burgesses, which body had all
the facts in the case before it ; this fact alone clearly indicates the con
temporary opinion of his action, as expressed by a body which had shown
anything but a warlike spirit. Washington himself gave an answer clear,
pointed, and decisive, to the imputation placed upon him, before the stigma
had had time to attach. In a letter to a friend he reviewed the occurrences
of the expedition, and so thoroughly cleared himself from all blame that
even his enemies were for the time silenced, and did not venture to revive
the charges, until the lapse of years had, as they supposed, caused the facts
to be forgotten. What was said, or thought, of Washington, by such o(
his contemporaries as could not endure his success, is of little consequence
— the misfortune is that Fmich, and some later English, historians have
perpetuated what was originally but a calumny, invented by political
enemies, and that, among American historians, some have been found ready
to become the apologists of what they assume to have been Washington's
"youthful indiscretion," rather than his champions — when the act which is
made the foundation of this adverse criticism, was clearly justified by the
circumstances.

During the winter that followed the return of the little force from the
Duquesne campaign, a serious affront was ofTered to the officers of the
colonial troops by an order "settling the rank of officers of his majesty's
forces, when serving with the provincials of North America." The salient

J8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

point of this order was conveyed in the following provisions: "That all
officers commissioned by the king or by his general in North America,
should take rank of all officers commissioned by the governors of the
respective provinces ; and, further, that the general and field officers of the
provincial troops should have no rank when serving with the general and
field officers commissioned by the crown ; but that all captains and other
inferior officers of the royal troops should take rank over provincial officers
of the same grade having royal commissions." This alone was sufficient
insult, but Governor Dinwiddie, with the foresight of a bat and the sagacity
of a hare, conceived a brilliant plan for preventing any further question of
precedence between Virginian and other colonial officers, by reducing the
entire force of his own province to a series of independent companies,
which action left no military office higher than that of captain to be filled.
Hence Washington had the alternative of accepting a captain's commission,
which placed him under the command of the rawest captain of the regular
service who chanced to cross his way or of resigning from the army. He
chose the latter course, and retired to Mount Vernon, expecting to devote
himself entirely to his private affairs. Another cause of his displeasure was
the discovery that the French officers captured during the campaign, and
whom he had particularly recommended to the courtesy of the Governor,
had been treated with shameful indignity, confined in prison like common
criminals, and that La Force, who had escaped and been recaptured, was,
upon his return, fettered and chained to the floor of his cell. According to
the terms of the capitulation at Fort Necessity, Washington had pledged
the immediate release of these prisoners, their safe return to the fort,
and had left two of his officers with De Villiers as hostages. In
spite of all these facts, and the clear obligation resting in honor upon Vir
ginia, Dinwiddie, with an obstinacy and disregard of all military rule that
frequently marked his conduct, refused to carry out the pledge of his
officer. Washington was sought out at Mount Vernon by many friends
and public men, who hoped to devise some plan by which his services
might be preserved to the province without loss of dignity on his part.
The Governor of Maryland, appointed by the king commander in chief of
his majesty's forces engaged against the French in America, offered him a
colonel's commission with the pay and duties of a major. All these over,
tures and offers were, however, rejected with simple dignity, and, for the
time, his retirement from military life seemed likely to be permanent.

THE BRADDOCK EXPEDITION.

CHAPTER VI.

THE BRADDOCK EXPEDITION.

T^HE report of Washington's campaign had aroused the English cabinet
to an appreciation of the dangers that threatened British interests in
America. Measures were taken to equip and dispatch a force sufficient to
settle at once and forever the controversy in favor of England. The
plan of operations in America had a four- fold object, being directed to
the expulsion of the French from Nova Scotia; from their position on
Lake Champlain ; from Fort Niagara, and from the Ohio valley. Major-
general Edwin Braddock was appointed commander in chief of all forces in
America, and elected to take personal charge of the expedition to the
borders of Pennsylvania and Virginia, primarily directed at Fort Duquesne.
For this service two English regiments, of five hundred men each, were
landed at Alexandria, and with them came a large train of artillery and a
superfluity of stores and baggage. Each of these regiments was to be
increased by the addition of two hundred Virginia recruits, and the whole
supplemented by as large and efficient an Indian contingent as could be
obtained.

Soon after his arrival in America, General Braddock, having heard
much of the competency and experience of Washington, sent an invitation
to the young provincial to become a member of his staff. Although the
place offered neither pay nor command to Washington, he could not resist
accepting it, as it promised so rich an opportunity for studying the art of
war, as practiced by those with whom war was a trade. Then, too, the
spirit which animated the old DC Wessyngtons, in their border service,
seemed revived in him. Gunpowder and arms allured him with the fascina
tion that the drawing room and dancing hall have for other men.

It is not the purpose of this narrative to follow either the preparation
or prosecution of the Braddock campaign, but simply to give such details
as may have a direct bearing upon the life and reputation of Washington.

40 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Yet a few words as to General Braddock's personal peculiarities may not be
amiss, for to them, more than to any other reasons, may be ascribed the dis
astrous result of what might otherwise have been a brilliantly successful
expedition. General Braddock was, by nature and training, a martinet;
his especial standing in the English army was due to his reputation as a dis
ciplinarian ; he believed, — as did many others, until the American revolution
proved their mistake, — that, against provincial levies and Indian auxiliaries,
alike, the British regular was invincible. He believed that a mountain cam
paign in America would succeed, if conducted on the principles applied in
holiday manoeuvres in Hyde Park. The contempt which he felt for pro
vincials and Indians could not be limited to his enemies; provincials and
Indians were a portion of his own force. This undervaluation of American
auxiliaries led him to reject offers of service from white scouts, and to
ignore the counsels of Indian allies, thus offending both, and losing an
effective defensive arm, that would have protected his force from disastrous
surprise, and perhaps have allowed him to dictate the terms of battle with
the French at Duquesne, as he might have done at Versailles, had his service
led him thither. It was to such a general that Washington, the practical
and experienced, but unscientific young officer, was attached.

From the first, the young Virginian, undazzled by the magnificent mili
tary display and perfect drill of the regulars, was appalled at the plan of
operations adopted. In spite of the fact that a practicable military road
had been made, during the previous year, extending from the eastern base
of the Alleghanies almost to Fort Duquesne, Braddock insisted upon pro
ceeding by a different route, and making a road as he went. Although his
march must necessarily extend, a slender line, four miles in length, through
a densely wooded, steep, and difficult country — though he was advised by
those fitter to judge than he that he would be constantly dogged and
menaced by bands of Indians, and that his line was, at any time, liable to
be attacked and cut from an ambuscade, he insisted upon proceeding as if
he were conducting an expedition in the heart of civilized Europe; rejected
the advice of Benjamin Franklin, Washington, and others ; refused to effect
the curtailment of his line by ordering his officers to diminish their baggage
to the actual essentials of the campaign, and rejected — almost repulsed —
the offers of assistance from whites and Indians, who would, as has been
said, if invited to serve, have protected his flanks and allowed him to form
his troops before the French fort, with all the formality dear to his heart.

Braddock marched from Alexandria on the 2Oth of April ; reaching Fort
Cumberland, he remained until the 2Oth of June, awaiting transportation for
his baggage and equipage— then he set out, dragging along at a snail's pace,
his four thousand men finding it impossible to make much headway against
the difficulties of mountain road making. Before long the general was com
pelled to swallow his pride and appeal to Washington for advice. This

THE BRADDOCK EXPEDITION. 41

Washington modestly gave. The garrison of the fort was known to be
weak, and French reinforcements were supposed to be coming. *He urged
that twelve hundred men be detached, stripped of all impedimenta, and
advanced by forced marches, to strike an effective blow at the fort before
its defense could be strengthened. The remainder of the force, guarding
the baggage and supplies, could follow, and be on the ground in time to
resist any retaliatory attack.

On the i pth of June, the advance expedition set out; but, in equipment
and spirit, it was little calculated to succeed ; the officers could not be
induced to greatly diminish the amount of their baggage, and it was, conse
quently, not much less cumbrous than that of the united force had been.
Washington wrote of the affair, after it was over: "I found that, instead of
pushing with vigor, without regarding a little rough road, they were halting
to level every molehill, and to build bridges over every brook, by which
means we were four days in getting twelve miles." General Braddock
commanded this advance in person, and it was with great regret that
Washington, who had been ill for nearly a week, and compelled by
weakness to leave his horse and ride in a wagon, succumbed to the hard
ship of these arduous twelve miles, and dropped out of the line to await
the arrival of the rear guard, and to obtain the medical treatment and
the rest that he felt to be essential to his recovery. A guard and a physician
were left with him, and he obtained a promise from Braddock that he should
be brought up with the advance, in time to participate in any attack that
might be made upon Fort Duquesne.

The illness of Washington continued, and it was not until the 3d
day of July that he was deemed sufficiently mended to set out in an army
wagon with the advance force of the rear guard, which had just come up.
Even this long delay did not, however, prevent his reaching Braddock's
immediate force before its snail-like march was quite ended. The detachment
had been a month on the march, and had traveled but little more than a hun
dred miles, when Washington rejoined his general on the 8th of July, at his
camp on the east bank of the Monongahela, and fifteen miles from Fort
Duquesne. It had already been determined to attack the fort as soon as the
troops could be sent forward for the purpose, and the morning of the follow
ing day — the 9th — was set for the advance. Thus Washington was just in
time to participate in the expected attack, and, though weak from long
illness and his trying wagon trip, he was early in the saddle, and reported
for duty. The plan of Braddock was to move his men by a ford near the
camp, to the west bank of the river, march some five miles down the stream
and recross by a second ford. The advance was ordered forward before
daylight to cover the second ford while the main body should cross. The
men moved off, as if for a parade, marching in a long and entirely
unguarded line — their colors flying and band playing. Washington could

42 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

not conceive that the wily French would allow a superior force to approach
and attack them in order, when there existed so good an opportunity for
crippling or destroying it as was presented by this line of advance.
Hence he urged — almost implored — Braddock in some manner to protect his
flanks ; to at least throw out scouts and to guard against surprise. All was,
however, in vain. Braddock could not bend his pride to accept so much as
a suggestion, in the face of a battle, from a young provincial officer ; hence
the line moved gaily forward, as confident of success, as fearless of danger,
as any body of men that ever advanced to battle. The crossing of the
army consumed the entire morning. About I o'clock in the afternoon it
was completed, and the advance toward Duquesne began. The British
force was divided into three sections, first, the working party and advance
guard, protected by four small flanking parties; then, some distance behind,
the main body of regulars, commanded by Braddock in person ; last, the
Virginians and other provincials. The march was but just begun, when the
advance guard, while passing along a portion of the road bordered on
one side by the river, on the other skirted by a heavily wooded hill,
was startled, first by a succession of yells, then by a most deadly fire,
coming from unseen enemies, among the woods on the right. Washington's
fears of an ambuscade had been justified. The English at first held their
ground well ; a file of French and Indians advancing in order gave
them encouragement ; they were ready enough to fight an enemy whom
they could see and measure. They fired upon the advancing line, and the
young officer commanding it fell at the first volley. Meantime the fire
from the hidden Indians in the woods, and the terrible uproar that accom
panied it, grew worse and worse. Gage, commanding the advance, formed
his men on the road and ordered a charge to dislodge the Indians, if such
were possible ; the soldiers, brave as they were at warfare of their own
kind, would not advance a step to meet what seemed to them the certainty
of death. The order of battle gave the Indian sharpshooters every advan
tage, and it seemed that scarcely a shot failed of effect. A body of men
was sent on to reinforce the advance guard, of which nearly every officer
and the majority of the men were killed or wounded. While this effort to
form the reinforcements was making, the advance guard broke and fled in
the wildest confusion, falling back upon the other force and throwing them
out of all order and beyond the possibility of control.

At this point Braddock came up, and, under his orders, a renewed
effort was made to rally and form the men, and make an advance upon the
enemy, but it failed in turn. The soldiers were hopelessly panic-stricken,
and huddled together to be shot down by the score. The Virginia troops,
nearly all experienced in Indian warfare, dispersed behind trees and rocks,
to meet the enemy after their own fashion, thus serving as the only protec
tion to the miserable regulars. Within a short time alter the battle began,

THE BRADDOCK EXPEDITION. 43

only Washington of all Braddock's aides remained alive and unwounded.
He was everywhere, carrying orders, encouraging, directing. He strove
to induce Braddock to order the men to imitate the Virginians and fight
from cover, but even in the midst of the awful scene about him, the
commander's ideas of discipline revolted at the thought, and he refused to
accede, driving back with his own sword those about him who attempted
such expedient independently. Washington showed the greatest coolness.
Moving, as he did, on horseback, he was a marked man for the sharp
shooters; two horses were killed under him, his hat and coat were pierced
by bullets, and not another mounted officer escaped death or wounding,
yet he was untouched. Dr. Craik says of him, in his diary of the cam
paign: "I expected at every moment to see him fall. His duty and situ
ation exposed him to every danger. Nothing but the superintending care
of Providence could have saved him from the fate of all about him."

Braddock made the last and only atonement in his power, for the obsti
nacy and folly that had brought the disgrace and disaster of the day upon
the English arms. He fought like a hero; from his place, at the central
point of danger, he put forward every effort within his power to rally the
men and save the day. All was in vain, and he must have seen the hope
lessness of his efforts before — having previously lost three horses in the
fight — he fell, mortally shot through the lungs. Let Irving tell what fol
lowed: "The rout now became complete; baggage, stores, artillery, every
thing was abandoned. The wagoners took each a horse out of his team and
fled. The officers were swept off with the men in this headlong flight. It
was rendered more precipitate by the shouts and yells of the savages, num
bers of whom rushed forth from their coverts, and pursued the fugitives to
the river side, killing several, as they dashed across in tumultous confu
sion. Fortunately for the latter, the victors gave up the pursuit in their
eagerness to collect the spoil."

Beyond the river a little body of men, more reasonable than their fellows,
were halted about the dying general and his wounded aides-de-camp.
An attempt was made to form a camp at that point, throw up entrench
ments and await reinforcement by the rear guard, which, with the heavier
baggage and artillery, had not yet come up. No sooner, however, were the
men posted and an attempt at restoring discipline made, than one by one
they deserted, until the few faithful ones were obliged to join the retreat,
bearing the wounded with them.

The force engaged in the battle on the side of the British was eighty-six
officers and about twelve hundred men. Of these, twenty-six officers were
killed and thirty-six wounded, and of the rank and file about seven hundred
were killed or wounded. Washington being among the few unwounded
officers, and knowing very thoroughly the country over which the army
nad recently passed, was directed to hasten to Captain Dunbar's camp,

44 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

forty miles distant, obtain men, wagons, and supplies, and return with
all haste. He found the camp in confusion, the news of the disaster
having been conveyed by the flying wagoners. Order being restored, his
directions were carried into effect, and he set out at early morning of the fol
lowing day, and met the escort at a point but thirteen miles from the camp.
Turning about, the sad cavalcade moved to Great Meadows where, on the
1 3th, Braddock died.

No campaign was ever so recklessly conducted ; few more crushing and
irreparable defeats of a disciplined force, by one much less in number, are
recorded ; there is no question that Braddock, had he been content to
accept advice, and make the necessary departure from formal military rule,
might have averted it all, and raised the British flag over Fort Duquesne,
with little loss, instead of resting in an unmarked grave, hastily hollowed and
filled by the flying soldiers. Yet the fault was by no means all his own.
Much of the responsibility should rest upon the ignorance and obstinacy of
the English cabinet ; ingnorance in the war office of what the smallest reflec
tion should have made evident, that the methods of a campaign in the wilds
of America must be adapted to the conditions of the country and the man
ner of warfare which the enemy might adopt. Braddock received the com
mand because he was deemed a fine disciplinarian and a master of the
theory of European warfare ; he died a defeated and broken-hearted man,
because he was too good a disciplinarian and too accomplished a theorist to
fight with savages, who knew no discipline, and confounded his theory.
Another potent agent in compassing his defeat was the contempt in which,
in common with all regulars fresh in the American service, he held alike
the assistance and enmity of provincials and Indians. He shared the
belief which generations of ballads and after dinner speeches had made
almost a part of the religion of his people — that the British sailor on the sea,
and the British soldier on the land, were invincible. This belief, then so
rudely assailed, was destined to meet with many a shock within the follow
ing sixty years, yet after a century it had not ceased to be in a manner a
portion of the national creed, as exhibited in the campaigns in Afghanistan
and Zululand.

After the death of Braddock, the command of the force devolved
upon Colonel Dunbar and he, collecting the mangled and disorganized rem
nants of the regular regiments, marched them at midsummer to Philadel
phia where they went into "winter quarters." The Virginians, or such oi
them as survived the disaster, returned to Fort Cumberland, and thence to
Winchester.

Washington had imbibed a sovereign contempt for the English officers,
during their march across the mountains ; he could not conceive how such
Jevotion to personal appearance and comfort ; such levity and vanity as
they showed, could be consistent with bravery and efficiency in the field.

THE BRADDOCK EXPEDITION. 45

This opinion he entirely changed, after witnessing the heroic demeanor of
these very dandies and bon vivants, upon the Monongahela. Of the rank
and file he could not, however, afterwards speak with patience, and with
his words concerning their behavior at the battle, this chapter and the
history of the campaign may appropriately close: "They were struck with
such an inconceivable panic, " he wrote Governor Dinwiddie, "that noth
ing but confusion and disobedience of orders prevailed among them. The
officers, in general, behaved with incomparable bravery, for which they
greatly suffered, there being upwards of sixty killed and wounded — a large
proportion out of what we had. The Virginia companies behaved like men
and died like soldiers, for, I believe, out of three companies on the ground
that day, scarce thirty men were left alive. Captain Peronny and all his
officers, down to a corporal, were killed. Captain Poulson had almost as
hard a fate, for only one of his escaped. In short, the dastardly behavior
of the regular troops (so-called) exposed those who were inclined to
do their duty to almost certain death ; and, at length, in spite of every
effort to the contrary, they broke and ran as sheep before the hounds, leav
ing the artillery, ammunition, provisions, baggage, and, in short, everything,
a prey to the enemy; and, when we endeavored to rally them, in hopes of
regaining the ground, and what we had left upon it, it was with as
little success as if we had attempted to have stopped the wild beasts of
the mountains, or the rivulets, with our feet; for they would break by in
spite of every effort to prevent it."

46 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER VII.

TO THE FALL OF FORT DUQUESNE.

WASHINGTON, returning to his home, was received with every
mark of confidence and honor by the House of Burgesses and the
people. He had before been regarded as the foremost soldier of Virginia,
and the bravery and discretion displayed by him, during the Braddock cam
paign, had convinced the people that, had his counsel been accepted, the
result would have been far different, and thus he was confirmed in their
esteem. It was evident that steps must be immediately taken to protect
the frontier, exposed, as it was, by this second defeat, to the depredations of
both French and Indians, and the House of Burgesses, now thoroughly
aroused, made provision for the raising of a force of one thousand six hun
dred men. Washington was made commander in chief of all the military
force of the Province of Virginia, with the unusual and especially conceded
privilege of naming his own field officers. Making arrangements for an
efficient recruiting service, he at once proceeded to the frontier, to mature a
plan by which, with the slender force at his command, he might protect the
settlers and repel the invading enemy, along the nearly four hundred
miles of wild and exposed border. He was none too soon. Before he
had reached the seat of government, on his return from this inspection,
he was overtaken by a messenger who bore news that a band of Indians had
crossed the mountains and was burning, robbing, murdering, and scalping,
throughout the newly populated regions beyond the Blue Ridge. Dis
patching word to his recruiting officers to send on their men with all
haste to Winchester, Washington himself hastened to that place, which he
found given over to panic and confusion. But few troops were in the dis
trict, and they, too weak to proceed against the enemy, were blockaded in
their <-»Wn forts. No effort could induce the militia to rendezvous and obtain
safety by a united defense ; each thought only of himself or his family, and
hastened to join the terror-stricken stampede to the eastward. A most

TO THE FALL OF FORT DUQUESNE. 47

pressing request to the militia commanders on the east of the Blue Ridge,
that they should send their men to protect the settlements on the frontier,
was so tardily answered that, before a blow could be struck, the marauders
had recrossed the mountains laden with scalps and plunder, and leaving the
valley behind them almost totally desolate. It is not the purpose of this
biography to follow minutely the history of Washington's connection with
the Virginia forces, as commander in chief. Dinwiddie had been com
pelled, by public opinion, to appoint him to the place, when he would have
preferred to name a personal friend of his own. For this or some other
reason, the administration of the province was always slow in supporting
him. The words of his own letter to a friend give the best possible idea of
his situation. In speaking of this misunderstanding he says : "Whence it
arises, or why, I am truly ignorant, but my strongest representations of
matters relative to the peace of the frontiers are disregarded as idle and
frivolous ; my propositions and measures, as partial and selfish ; all my sin-
cerest endeavors for the service of my country, perverted to the worst pur
poses. My orders arc dark, doubtful, and uncertain ; to-day approved,
to-morrow condemned ; left to act and proceed at hazard ; accountable for
the consequences, and blamed without the benefit of a defence.

However, I am determined to bear up under all these embarrass
ments some time longer, in the hope of better regulations, under Lord Lon
don, to whom I look for the future fate of Virginia."

Washington's theory as to the most promising method of defending
the frontier against the incursions of the Indians, to-day seems so unques
tionably the only practicable one, that we wonder how even jealousy could
have failed of stamping it with instant approval. The original force pro
posed to be raised, previous to his assumption of the command, was one
thousand six hundred troops ; in fact, the effective troops nev<jr exceeded
one thousand two hundred in number, and often fell as low as seven hun
dred. With this handful of men, the Governor insisted upon maintaining a
defensive warfare along a frontier three hundred and sixty miles long.
Washington maintained that success, under such circumstances, was not
even to be hoped for. Fort Duquesne, at that time the centre of the French
force, and consequently of Indian disaffection in the Ohio valley, was but
slenderly garrisoned. The French were too seriously menaced in Canada
and Nova Scotia to render its reinforcement likely ; their vessels, bearing
provisions and ammunition, were constantly cut off by British men-of-war and
privateers, and everything seemed to promise success to a sharp, active, and
determined movement against it. Duquesne once cut off, there would be
no point south of Lake Erie from which the French could offensively oper
ate, or could move to retain their influence with the Indians. Across the
Alleghanies, Braddock's military road was still in good condition, and a
movement could be made which would, in three days, place a force of one

48 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

thousand five hundred men before the fort, with eighty-six days' provisions,
opposed to only about half that number, including French and Indians, and
they poorly equipped and short of supplies. A movement of such a force
across the mountains could scarcely fail of the destruction of the French
power on the Ohio, but even if it did not so result, it would absolutely neces
sitate the recall of the Indians who were ravaging the borders of Pennsyl
vania and Virginia, and would thus, by one concentrated expedition, result
in accomplishing what was contemplated in the raising of the Virginian
army, while promising still more important advantages. This was Wash
ington's view. Dinwiddie, however, insisted upon maintaining his policy of
defensive action. The commander in chief then begged for two thousand
men, saying that, with them he could build and maintain a chain of twenty-
two forts across the frontier, manning each with about eighty men, and
could, in a measure at least, prevent the inroads of the savages. With seven
hundred or one thousand two hundred men he declared that but one result
could be looked for — that, the driving of all English settlements eastward,
the destruction of houses and villages, the murder of settlers, until the
Blue Ridge should be once more the western frontier of English settle
ment. Washington's predictions proved to be correct; incursion followed
incursion ; the valleys between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies were
again and again ravaged, until the settlers, despairing of succor from Vir
ginia, whence they had reason to expect it, were glad to give up everything
but life, and fly to the safety of the more populous East. At Winchester
a few of the bolder settlers remained ; there were troops in the scattered
garrisons, and Lord Fairfax continued, like a feudal noble of the middle
ages, to maintain his establishment by arming his servants ; aside from these
exceptions the whole region was desolate.

The coming of Lord Loudoun, who was at once Governor of Virginia
and commander in chief of all military forces in the colonies, did not, as
Washington had hoped, improve the condition of affairs. The new Governor
had determined to concentrate all his strength in an effort to reduce the
French power in Canada, leaving only a pitiful force of twelve hundred
men for the protection of all the Southern colonies. So far from being
better equipped for self-protection, Virginia was impoverished by a requi
sition, catling upon her to furnish four hundred men for service in South
Carolina. So matters continued until, early in the year 1758, Lord Loudoun
gave place, as commander in chief, to General Abercrombie ; the office of
Lieutenant-governor was temporarily held by Mr. John Blair, a warm friend
of Washington ; Brigadier-general Forbes assumed command of the southern
department, including Virginia, and, above all, William Pitt, that great, wise,
and fearless statesman, was prime minister of England. Washington
believed that an aggressive policy might at last be expected, and awaited
with impatience the first indication from which the plans of the new admin-

TO THE FALL OF FORT DUQUESNE. 49

tstration might be inferred. Such an intimation was not long in coming
and, in May of that year, Washington received orders to assemble his
entire available force at Winchester. This, after the invariable annoyances
arising from a lack of funds, arms, and supplies, he succeeded in doing,
when he was chagrined, beyond measure, to learn that his commander had
determined, in spite of the existence of the practicable road opened by
Braddock, to move to Fort Duquesnc by a new route, across the moun
tains, every mile of which would necessarily be cut through an unbroken
forest, every considerable stream bridged, and the prospect of reaching
the objective point of the expedition before the setting in of winter, reduced
to the merest shadow. Colonel Bouquet, the second in command, wrote to
Washington for advice in the matter, and received in return a modest, yet
plain statement of opinion, of which the following is a portion :

" I shall most cheerfully work on any road, pursue any route, or enter
upon any service that the general or yourself may think me usefully
employed in, or qualified for ; and shall never have a will of my own, when
a duty is required of me. But, since you desire me to speak my senti
ments freely, permit me to observe that, after having conversed with all the
guides, and having been informed by others acquainted with the country, I
am convinced that a road to be compared with General Braddock's, or,
indeed, that will be fit for transportation, even with pack-horses, cannot be
made. I own I have no predilection for the road you have in contempla
tion for me." In spite of Washington's warmest protestations and argu
ments, the English officers remained immovably determined in carrying on
the campaign in their own way. The young provincial was justly indignant
at the stupidity that could deliberately choose failure, where success was so
easy, and at the obstinacy that clung to a fallacy, after it had been fully
exposed. In a letter, written from Fort Cumberland, during the month of
September, he betrayed his feelings on the subject with unwonted freedom.
He said: " We arc still encamped here, very sickly and desperate at the
prospect before us. That appearance of glory which we once had in view
— that hope — that laudable ambition of serving our country and meriting its
applause, are now no more ; all is dwindled into ease, sloth, and fatal inac
tivity. In a word, all is lost, if the ways of men in power, like certain
ways of Providence, are not inscrutable. But we, who view the actions of
great men at a distance, can only form conjectures agreeably to a limited
perception ; and being ignorant of the comprehensive schemes which may
be in contemplation, might mistake egregiously in judging of things from
appearances or by the lump. Yet every fool will have his notions — will
prattle and talk away ; and why may not I ? We seem then, in my opinion,
to act under guidance of an evil genius. The condu ct of our leaders, if
not actuated by superior orders, is tempered with something I do not care
to give a name to. Nothing now but a miracle can bring this campaign to

IJO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

a happy issue. " Washington's letter then rehearses his opposition to the
scheme for the building of a new road, and concludes as follows; "

. but I spoke unavailingly ; the road was immediately begun, and,
since then, from one to two thousand men have constantly wrought upon it.
By the last accounts I have received, they have cut to the foot of Laurel
Hill, about thirty-five miles ; and, I suppose, by this time, fifteen hundred
men have taken post ten miles farther, at a place called Loyal Hanna,
where our next fort is to be constructed. We have certain intelligence
that the French strength at Fort Duquesne did not exceed eight hundred
men on the i$th ultimo, including about three or four hundred Indians.
See how our time has been misspent — behold how the golden opportunity
has been lost — perhaps never to be regained. How is it to be accounted
for? Can General Forbes have orders for this? Impossible! Will then
our injured country pass by such abuses ? I hope not. Rather let a full
representation of the matter go to his majesty ; let him know how grossly
his glory and interests, and the public money have been prostituted."

Washington contemplated two results from the tardy policy of the gen
eral; first, that the army would be compelled to endure the suffering of a
winter passed in the woods, and, being unable to make effective progress
until late in the spring, the French would have ample time to reinforce Fort
Ouquesne, and, to make the matter worse, that the southern Indian tribes,
who had thus far remained true to their treaties with the English, would be
drawn away, menacing the army and the colonies with a new and unnec
essary danger. How nearly true his forecast proved to be we will now
relate.

During September Major Grant, under orders from the general, made
a reconnoissance about Fort Duquesne, with a force of eight hundred men.
The result of his over-boldness was an engagement with the garrison, from
which the English retired, having lost twenty-seven men killed and forty-two
wounded. On the 5th of November the army reached the terminus of the
road at Loyal Hanna, forty-five miles from Fort Cumberland. A council of
war being held, it was determined that it was alike impracticable to make a
further advance before the spring, and to place the army in winter quarters
in the heart of the wilderness. The conclusion had been reached that it
would be necessary to return to the frontier and set out anew in the spring,
when word came of the exceeding distress of the French garrison, who
lacked provisions, clothing, and ammunition, and had little prospect of an
immediate relief. Washington urged a forced march to attack the fort and,
taking the matter under his personal charge, completed a passable road by
the 25th of November and, on that day, the English became masters of the
much dreaded and long coveted fortress, which had been deserted by its
garrison, after they had destroyed its cannon and set fire to the fort itself.
The flames were extinguished, the works were restored, English cannon

TO THE FALL OF FORT DUQUESNE. 51

replaced the wrecked artillery of the French, the fort was re-christened
Fort Pitt, in honor of the great minister, and the question of supremacy in
the valley of the Ohio was settled forever, in favor of the English race.
Washington, leaving a detail of two hundred men as a garrison for the
fort, conducted the remainder of his force to Winchester, and, parting with
it there, proceeded to the capital, where he took his seat in the General
Assembly, to which he had shortly before been elected.

The reduction of Fort Duquesne released Virginia, not only from the
danger of French invasion, but insured the good behavior of the Indians,
and Washington at last felt that he might, without dishonor, retire from the
arrry, as he had long desired, thus gaining opportunity to recover his
health, which was much impaired by repeated and arduous campaigns, to
devote some time to neglected business interests and, most of all, to escape
the constant annoyance to which a provincial officer was subjected by reason
of the rules of precedence to which reference has been made. Hence, at the
end of the year he resigned his dual office of colonel of the First Virginia
regiment, and commander in chief of all the forces of the colony, and laid
down his sword, only to again wear it when there came the supreme call for
a man who might lead the revolting colonies in the struggle against the
mother country.

The value of this hard and thankless service against the French, to
Washington and to his country — who can measure it? Not only by the
disciplining and developing of his own mind and the increase of his direct
knowledge of the art of war, but in the familiarity which he acquired with
the methods and the weaknesses of the army and the military system which
he was to oppose, a familiarity which, when practically applied, enabled
him, with a small, undisciplined, and ill-equipped army — often starving and
freezing from sheer paucity of supplies, to harass, worry, and annoy the
finest armies in the world to ultimate demoralization and defeat. More
than all, it had assured the maintenance of his mental equipoise, in the face
of disaster in the field and disaffection in the councils of those who
should have been his friends ; it had prepared him for the discourage
ments, the intrigues, and the cabals of the Revolution. Accident —
mere blind good-fortune — may make a victorious commander a hero ;
only he who is exceptionally wise and able, can win reputation from
defeat. Of the three campaigns in which Washington participated, during
the French war, two ended in disaster — the third in a success due to
extraneous circumstances, rather than to any merit of commanders or
bravery of men, yet from so unlikely a military experience, Washington
emerged with an uncontested reputation as the foremost soldier in bravery,
wisdom, experience, and fertility of expedient, in all the colonies.

It is not within the scope of this biography to further follow the details
of the French war, so-called ; the story of the vigorous prosecution of the

52 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

war in the north ; of the fall of Fort Niagara, the bloody battle at Fort
George, on the lake now bearing the same name; the capture of Ticonder-
oga; the investment of Quebec, with the death of Wolfe and the yielding
of the city to the English ; the last stand and final surrender of Montreal,
and the peace that gave to England, for the time, undisputed title to the
continent of North America — of all these it would be interesting to write,
but, though the first volley in the encounter between the forces of Wash
ington and De Jumonville opened the war, Washington had no active part
in it after the occupation of Duquesne by the English, and hence our
cern with it as well is at an end.

MARTHA WASHINGTON.

MARRIAGE AND HOME LIFE. 53

CHAPTER VIII.

MARRIAGE AND HOME LIFE.

THUS far these pages have told little of the private life of Washington,
save as it appears by glimpses in the struggles, labors, disappointments
and successes that so often interrupted it. Indeed, there is little of real boy
hood, or of the small pleasures and hopes of youth, to tell. Washington
made but a single step from the school-room to the field, seeming to open
fully and at once from an exceptionally serious and thoughtful childhood to
the full stature of the noble manhood that was his own. It is difficult to
mark the development that intervened between the setting out upon that
first journey into the wilderness and the surrender at Yorktown. Develop
ment of course there was, but so reserved was the character of the man, so
chary was he of the utterance of sentiment or the expression of enthusiasm,
so few are the recorded utterances that have no direct and serious bearing
upon the business of his life, that the growth is all below the surface and
we may only judge of its extent by the results that it compassed. Yet
Washington was not without an element of romance, under all the practical
ity of his nature. When only a boy of fifteen he had a love affair — with
whom, no one will ever certainly know, for his natural secretiveness led him
to refer to her — never name her. (Supposed to be the mother of Henry
Lee — "Light Horse Harry.") He treated this new ailment of his with
all the seriousness with which he later planned a campaign or directed a
battle ; he was not ashamed of it — he had none of the bashfulness of
boys who are sophisticated in skirts and become men of the world in
short trousers. His correspondence with his young friends is full of allu
sions to this "lowland beauty," and in his copy-books are a few awk
ward and unmusical rhymes, in which, after the ordinary boyish fashion,
he bewails the fate that keeps him from the fair unknown.' Action, how
ever, cured him, as it has cured many a man of the same ailment, and
after he became a friend and later entered the service of the bluff old

54 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Lord Fairfax, we hear nothing more of the mysterious maid. It was not
until 1756 that he again felt the irritating sensation of love. He was at that,
time colonel of the First Virginia regiment and commander in chief of all the
forces of the colony, yet he found his authority questioned by a captain in
command of a fort within the colony, on the ground that the latter held a
king's commission. Out of all patience, Washington set out on horseback
for Boston, there to submit the question to the arbitrament of the com
mander in chief. He was successful in his principal mission, but at grave
expense in peace of mind, for he lost his heart to Miss Mary Phillipse, who
was an inmate of the family of a Virginia friend of Washington, then a resi
dent of New York, she being a sister of the latter's wife. The young lady
was a niece of an aristocratic and wealthy gentleman, and one of the two
presumptive heiresses of his estate. Washington certainly laid close siege
to the young lady's heart; he as certainly took a sudden departure for
Virginia, but whether, as Irving kindly holds, called to the field by the sum
mons of duty, or urged by the gloomy prospect of his suit, history cannot
say. At all events he deserted the ground, and Captain Morris of New York
won the young beauty, with her broad acres, and, from the two, sprang one
of the most distinguished families of the State. By an odd coincidence,
the seat of the Morrises on the Hudson became the headquarters of Wash
ington during one of his revolutionary campaigns. So ended his second
affaire du cczur.

After Washington's assignment to duty with the Forbes expedition his
men, having been mustered, were without arms, ammunition or equipment.
Repeated representations of the state of affairs having failed of eliciting a
satisfactory response from the colonial government, Washington was
ordered to proceed to Williamsburg, and urge in person the necessity of
placing the troops upon an effective footing. Mounting his horse, and
taking a single servant, he set out for the seat of government. Upon
the road he fell in with a Mr. Chamberlayne, a Virginia gentleman,
whose estate lay hard by, and who insisted with characteristic hospitality,
that Washington should pause at his house for dinner. The latter was in
great haste to reach Williamsburg, and only when resistance began to seem
discourteous did he yield assent to the invitation. His resolve proved a
most fortunate one. At Mr. Chamberlayne's table he met a young and
charming widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, whose husband, John Parke Custis,
had died three years previously. She was a daughter of John Dandridge
and, by blood and marriage, was a member of two families of the simon-
pure Virginia aristocracy. Perhaps Washington had met her before. At
all events it is evident that he succumbed at once to her charms, which were
assuredly sufficient to excuse so ready a surrender. All his eagerness to
press on to Williamsburg vanished. His horse, which he had ordered his
servant to bring to the door immediately after dinner, walked contentedly

MARRIAGE AND HOME LIFE. 55

back to the discussion of hay and corn in the stable, and Washington, for
the first and only recorded time of his life, enticed by pleasure, paused in the
path of duty. In the morning he proceeded to Williamsburg ; but the
young widow resided at her seat, the White House, but a few miles from that
city, and before Washington's mission was accomplished, his horse knew
every pebble in the road that lay between. For the first time since his mil
itary experience began, the young commander had now the opportunity ot
pursuing his favorite theory of offensive warfare — untrammeled by the imbe
cility of legislators and the clogging etiquette of service. This he improved
to the utmost, bearing in mind, no doubt, the disaster that resulted from his
temporizing policy with Miss Phillipse, and as a result, before he turned his
back upon the White House to proceed to Winchester, the fair widow was his
promised wife, and the wedding was set to occur immediately after the close
of the coming Duquesne campaign. On the 6th day of January, 1759, the
marriage took place at the White House, and Washington thus laid down his
service of the king to assume a domestic allegiance that nothing ever served
to shake. Mr. Custis had left for equal division among his widow and chil
dren a large landed estate and more than forty-five thousand pounds sterling.
Washington's estate had prospered, in spite of his inattention, and he
was a man of wealth sufficient to enable him to maintain his state with the
best in the land. For a few weeks the newly married couple remained at
the seat of the bride; then they removed to Mount Vernon, the noble
estate which had come to Washington from one of his brothers, and there
established themselves in the comfort of a tranquil country life, which, for
the greater part of two decades, was only to be interrupted by the duties ot
Washington as a legislator, and by occasional calls of business and pleasure.
One argument in favor of the effectiveness of the laws of heredity is
found in the devotion of Washington to two modes of life — the military and
that of the landed gentleman. He was first, last, and always a soldier,
when military duty was to be done ; failing that he was a planter. He
loved the quiet and order of rural life. He improved his estate by personal
attention when others of the jcune noblesse of Virginia allowed theirs to
deteriorate from neglect and loaded them with mortgages, to satisfy the
demands of lives of prodigality. Even with the details of his plantation
work, sometimes actually in the manual execution of his own orders, Wash
ington was associated. His establishment was conducted with all the wicle-
doored hospitality that marked the Virginian life of the day ; his table was
furnished in the finest and most abundant manner, and was served by the
best of servants. His wife went forth upon her stately round of visits in a
coach and four, with footmen and outriders. Washington himself rode the
choicest of English thoroughbreds, hunted after the finest hounds, rode upon
the river in a beautiful barge manned by a crew of picked and uniformed
slaves. His friends, even the venerable Lord Fairfax who had given him

56 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

his first lessons in the chase, often came to Mount Vernon, and the stables
were amply supplied with mounts for all. Sometimes a British man-of-war
anchored in the Potomac — then there were successive feasts at Mount Ver
non, Belvoir, and other seats, with reciprocation on the part of the royal
officers.

Back of it all, aside from the demands of his estate and the numerous
private trusts committed to his care, Washington had not a little of public
business, to serve as a foil to the free and happy home life we have described.
As a member of the House of Burgesses he was much at Williamsburg, the
seat of government ; public missions often led him to Winchester and other
points in the province, and sometimes he was called even farther — to Phila
delphia or to Annapolis, the ultra conservative and aristocratic seat of the
province of Maryland, where he, recognized as the foremost Virginian, and
his highbred and brilliant wife were prominent in the gaiety with which the
officers of the province surrounded themselves.

This is, in brief, the life that, from the fall of Duquesne to the sounding
of the alarm that heralded the Revolution, engrossed the future leader of the
people. Was ever an atmosphere less suited to fostering republicanism ;
was ever a man more fitted by association, education, taste, and interest to
be a royalist, a tory, a recreant to the interests of his native soil ?

With these words this record leaves what may be termed the first of
the three periods of Washington's public life. He has served his appren
ticeship and now awaits only the summons of the bugle, to move to his
country's aid in a service destined to mark him as the one man in history
who has been the creator of a popular government that has stood the shocks
of a century.

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 57

CHAPTER IX.

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION.

ALTHOUGH the surrender of Montreal in 1757 ended the actual hos
tilities between France and England, it was not until 1763 that a
formal peace was concluded, at the convention of Fontainbleau. Thus, for
the first time in ten years, the colonies seemed secure from any other warlike
danger than that, always present, from the unstable and treacherous Indians.
This very peril took definite form in May of that year, when the border
Indians united in a conspiracy to simultaneously attack and overpower all
the English forts from Detroit to Eort Pitt — the re-christened Fort Du-
quesne. This uprising resulted in the temporary loss of some of the
smaller defences, and in a blood}- massacre of settlers, but proved abortive
as to its principal object. Washington's retirement to private life prevented
his taking part in the defensive movement which followed, and his ardent
desire to be allowed to remain a planter and a country gentleman, bade fair
to be indefinitely gratified.

The seeds of discord between the colonies and the crown were, how
ever, already sown, and the great agitation that led to a revolution which
resulted in establishing the greatest republic of the world, was even then
begun. England's policy toward the colonies is too well known to call for
more than passing mention. At the time of which we are now speaking,
the regard of the home country for her American dependencies was that of
a purely commercial nation for a business investment. It is a matter of
astonishment that there was mingled with this mercenary view so little feel
ing of kinship or sympathy. England neither gave to America the respect
accorded to a foreign ally, nor the affection naturally subsisting between
people of common blood and traditions. In America the feeling toward
the mother country was still one of respect and love ; long after the unjust
policy of the crown had aroused an active resistance and that resistance had
evoked a measure of retaliation, many Americans of the best class habitu
ally referred to England as "home," and at no time until months after

58 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the seizure of the American magazines and the first bloodshed at Concord,
was it beyond the power of England, by simplest justice in legislation
and executive action, to have closed the breach, and thus, for many years,
prolonged her dominion in America.

The first public evidence of ill-feeling between the people of the old
England and the new, came from those British merchants, who held the
paper currency of the colonies, issued during the prolonged war, and found
it depreciated upon their hands. The result of their outcry was an order
declaring colonial scrip not legal tender for the payment of debts. This
action greatly embittered a public feeling adverse to English commercial
interference, already created by successive acts of restrictive legislation,
thus, in effect, tersely stated by Irving: "Her (England's) navigation laws
had shut their ports against foreign vessels ; obliged them to export their
productions only to countries belonging to the British crown ; to import
European goods solely from England, and in English ships, and had sub
jected the trade between the colonies to duties. All manufactures, too, in
the colonies, that might interfere with those of the mother country, had
been either totally prohibited or subjected to intolerable restrictions." In
short, it was sought to make the colonies separate and isolated communities
of agricultural producers, which should sell their raw material to English
merchants, without competition, thus giving one profit, and, by compulsion,
purchase from the same men their manufactured goods, thus paying another.
It was the same policy that, applied to Ireland, has made one of the most
highly favored people in Europe a nation of tatterdemalions and pau
pers. It is not strange that this narrow and unjust policy called forth the
violent opposition that it did, yet there was still stronger cause for protest
in store.

Though the subject of direct taxation of the American colonies had
often been broached, the instant antagonism aroused, the firm stand taken by
the Americans that no body in which they were unrepresented had a right
to tax them, had thus far dissuaded the crown from adopting so arbitrary a
measure. The close of the French war, however, leaving England secure
in her sense of American proprietorship, brought a decided change of
policy. British ships-of-war in American waters became floating and armed
custom-houses, every naval commander was especially instructed to direct
his effort at the breaking up of smuggling, and the result was the destruc
tion of a very profitable, though prohibited, trade between the American
colonies of England and Spain. An effort was made to search houses and
stores in Boston, in quest of contraband sugar, the case was tested in the
courts, as a matter of constitutional right, with the result of exciting the
popular indignation to the highest pitch, and arousing the first active oppo
sition to the authority of the crown. It was reserved for George Grenville,
in 1764, then prime minister of England, to rush in where wiser men than

•

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 59

he had feared to tread. He procured the passage of an act of Parliament
declaring the right of England to tax the American colonies. Following
upon this he gave notice of his intention to press, at the next session, for the
adoption of a system of stamp duties to be enforced in the colonies. This
action was the logical result of a growing policy which had, within the four
years preceding, led to the adoption of no less than twenty-nine separate acts
of Parliament, looking to the repression of American commerce and indus
try. The outburst of indignation which followed its announcement, would
have altered the determination of a wiser minister, and terrified one less
obstinate and hot-headed. New England, possessing the most immediate
commercial interest, took the lead ; New York and Virginia followed her.
Petitions were framed, signed, and sent to king and Parliament, and every
possible indication of popular disapproval, united to press for a reconsider
ation. Yet, in March, 1/65, the act was passed, providing that every
instrument in \vriting, executed within the colonies, should be drawn upon
stamped paper, purchased of agents of the crown, providing penalties for
offenses against the act, and also that trials in all cases arising thereunder
might be had in any royal, marine, or admiralty court, at any point within
any of the colonies.

It may be stated here that the stamp act was never enforced, save to a
very limited extent. The agents appointed to dispose of the paper, either
shared the public feeling and refused to serve, or soon found it advisable to
resign for their own safety. The first official protest against the iniquitous
measure came from the conservative and loyal colony of Virginia. The
House of Burgesses was then in session — Washington sitting among its
members — a resolution was introduced by that fiery orator, Patrick Henry
(then a young member of the House), declaring that the colony of Virginia
had the exclusive right to tax its inhabitants and that whoever maintained
the contrary should be deemed an enemy of the country. This position
he defended in a speech that has passed into history as one of the most
eloquent in the annals of American legislation. After little debate, and
with small modification the resolutions were adopted, and the Lieutenant-
governor, alarmed at the spirit displayed, at once dissolved the House.
This was a signal for other colonial legislatures to act, and an entire
unanimity was evinced by the adoption, throughout the country, of similar
resolutions, and the expressed determination to resist the enforcement of
the act to all extremities. On the 1st day of November, named as the
time for the act to go into effect, there were everywhere demonstrations,
the burning of royal agents in effigy, the tolling of bells, flags at half-mast,
and other indications of both anger and sorrow.

Washington returned from the meeting of the dissolved House, deeply
concerned for the safety of the colonies, impressed with the injustice of the
English measures and, above all, as were most good men at that day,

6O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

anxious that the case should be so represented to England as to induce a
reconsideration of the offensive acts, an adjustment of difficulties upon the
basis of mutual interest, and the preservation of those relations under
which he had been born and grown to maturity. Few men then thought
of separation between the colonies and England, as a possibility; those few
regarded it only as a remote contingency, and a very calamitous one as well.
So slow is the Anglo-Saxon to assume, even in his own mind, the attitude
of a revolutionist.

It was, indeed, a serious question that met Washington's consideration,
and one which, to all appearances, could receive but one consistent answer,
were he at all to regard his personal, pecuniary, or social interests. Every
tradition of his family and colony, every environment of his life, every con
sideration of ambition, friendship, and taste, tended to the cause of royalty
— to make him a tory. Here was he living upon a magnificent estate, rich,
independent, respected ; having received more than one indication of high
consideration from the home government, intimately associated with men
who, like the Fairfaxes, were fixed, though moderate, royalists; raising his
tobacco year by year, receiving a good price for it in England, and caring
little for the privilege of importing from any other than English ports.
What had he to lose by a continuance or increase of the exercise of a con
trol under which he had so greatly prospered ; what could he possibly gain
by identifying himself with the cause of a few scattered, poor, and weak
colonies, with no better assurance of unity than the possession of a com
mon grievance against the most powerful maritime, military, and commer
cial nation in the world? These questions came up to him and to the
majority of representative Virginians, whose interests were like his, and so
different from those of the commercial colonies of New York and New
England. In a letter written April 5, 1769, to George Mason, Washington
speaks of the non-importation agreement, then being warmly advocated,
and later so generally adopted, in the following words, which give a clear
statement of the difference of interest between New England and Virginia,
and at the same time, show how carefully he considered the effect of such a
resolve upon his own fortunes, thus emphasizing the significance of the
warm adherence he later gave to that and to more radical movements:

"The Northern colonies, it appears, are endeavoring to adopt this
scheme. In my opinion it is a good one, and must be attended with salu
tary effects, provided it can be pretty generally carried into execution.

That there will be a difficulty attending it everywhere, from
clashing interests and selfish, designing men, ever attentive to their o\vn
gain, and watchful of every turn that can assist their lucrative views, can
not be denied, and, in the tobacco colonies, where the trade is so diffused,
and, in a manner, wholly conducted by factors for their principals at home,
these difficulties are certainly enhanced, but I think not insurmountably

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 6l

increased, if the gentlemen, in their several counties, will be °.t some pains
to explain matters to the people, and stimulate them to cordial agreements
to purchase none but certain enumerated articles out of any of the stores,
after a definite period, and neither import nor purchase any themselves.

I can see but one class of people, the merchants excepted,
who will not, or ought not to, wish well to the scheme, namely, those who
live genteelly and hospitably upon clear estates. Such as these, were they
not to consider the valuable object in view, and the good of others, might
think it hard to be curtailed of their living and enjoyments," The italics
used in the words "gentlemen" and "people, "are simply intended to indi
cate how naturally the mind of Washington, or that of any man sharing
his position, at that time, made distinctions, quite out of harmony with
the republican institutions which they were fated to establish.

The closing clause of Mason's reply to this letter is peculiarly interest
ing, as showing to how small a degree had penetrated any wider idea of
the destiny of America than that sought to be inculcated by Great Britain,
and, also, as clearly proving that, among Washington and his chosen friends,
there had not, at that time, arisen any desire beyond that for a reconcilia
tion of differences and a renewal of the relations temporarily interrupted.
After expressing approval of the non-importation agreement, as an expe
dient, Mason says : "I am thoroughly convinced that, justice and harmony
happily restored, it is not for the interest of these colonies to refuse British
manufactures. Our supplying our mother country with gross materials and
taking her manufactures in return, is the true chain of connection between
us. These are the bonds, which, if not broken by oppression, must long
hold us together by maintaining a constant reciprocation of interest."

It is impossible here to follow the minute history of the events which
led up to the Revolution. Among other acts passed by Parliament was
that providing that troops, " for the protection of the colonies," dispatched
to America in time of peace, should be lodged and maintained at the
expense of the colonies to which they were assigned, and another permit
ting the removal of a citizen of any colony, charged with treason or mis-
prision of treason, to any other colony or to England, for trial. Boston had
been, from the beginning of the agitation, regarded by England as a " hot
bed of rebellion," and was the first to feel the force of the military billeting
act. On the 28th of September, 1766, in consequence of repeated collisions
between the people of Boston and the King's customs officers, two
regiments of regulars, under General Hood, having been ordered from
Canada, entered the city, and, there being no quarters provided for
them by the people, some encamped upon the common, some were quar
tered in the State house, and others in Faneuil hall. Cannon were posted
before the State house door, and every comer and goer was challenged by
sentinels. The Assembly of Massachusetts had been before prorogued, on

62 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

account of its strong protests against the action of the crown, and did n<
again meet until May of the following year. When came the time f(
reassembling a message was at once sent to the Governor that th
body could not, consistently with its dignity, take any action, so long i
there was even an apparent military occupation of the capital, and reques
ing that the troops be withdrawn beyond the limits of the city. Th
request not being complied with, the Assembly adjourned to Car
bridge ; the Governor sent a message requiring provision to be mac
for the maintenance of the troops ; compliance was refused, and the boc
was summarily dissolved. In May, 1769, the Virginia House of Burgess
was convened with great pomp, the King having sent out as Governc
Lord Boutetourt, with ample provision for dazzling this aristocratic color
into submission. The first act of that body was to pass a resolution co
demning the course adopted for the coercion of Massachusetts ; the secor
to adopt an agreement of non-importation, proposed by Washingtoi
Like the Assembly at Cambridge, the House at Williamsburg was prompt
dissolved.

Pending the ripening of events, Washington made an expedition in
the valley of the Ohio, to select land for appropriation to the payment
bounties to the soldiers who served in the French war. He undertook tt
at his private cost, that long deferred justice might be done these men, at
set apart lands which were, by his influence, later divided among the su
vivors.

So matters stood when, on the 5th of September, 1774, the first Com
nental Congress assembled at Philadelphia, in accordance with a plan agre<
upon by the various colonial bodies. The Virginia delegation consisted
Peyton Randolph, Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henr
Richard Bland, Benjamin Harrison, and Edward Pendleton — truly a magni
cent group of men, well worthy the colony which sent them ; well fitted
meet the grave emergency of the hour. Every colony, save Georgia, w
represented, and as a preliminary measure, it was determined to give ea<
colony a single vote upon any question which might come before the Co
gress. The solemnity of this most momentous meeting was deepened by tl
circulation of a report that Boston had been cannonaded by the British flee
which rumor bore all the weight of truth. The men gathered in the roo
which may, better than any other, be called the cradle of American libert
had taken their property, if not their lives, into their hands in so gatherir
to condemn and oppose the action of Great Britain, and their words ar
resolutions were such as to leave no doubt that life and property were alii
lightly held, as compared with the inestimable right of civil liberty. Tl
first resolution of the Congress was a re-assertion of the principles and pr
tests that had been again and again framed and formulated by local asser
blies and committees, and forwarded to the King and Parliament, withoi

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 63

eliciting reply or remedy. The second was the adoption of a bill of rights,
thus epitomized by Irving: "In this were enumerated their natural rights
to the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property ; and their rights as British
subjects. Among the latter was participation in legislative councils. This
they could not exercise through representatives in Parliament. They
claimed, therefore, the power of legislating in their provincial assemblies,
consenting, however, to such acts of Parliament as might be essential to the
regulation of trade ; but excluding all taxation, internal or external, for the
raising of revenue in America. The common law of England was claimed
as a birthright, including the right of trial by a jury of the vicinage ; of
holding public meetings to consider grievances ; and of petitioning the
King. The benefits of all such statutes as existed, at the time of the
colonization, were likewise claimed, together with the immunities and priv
ileges granted by royal charters, or secured by provincial laws. The main
tenance of a standing army in any colony, in time of peace, without
the consent of its Legislature, was pronounced contrary to law. The exer
cise of the legislative power in the colonies, by a council appointed dur
ing pleasure by the crown, was declared to be unconstitutional and destruc
tive of the freedom of American legislation."

Then followed a specification of the acts of Parliament passed during
the reign of George III., infringing and violating these rights. These
were: The sugar act; the stamp act ; the two acts for quartering troops;
the tea act; the act suspending the New York Legislature; the two acts for
the trial in Great Britain of offenses committed in America; the Boston
port bill ; the act for regulating the government of Massachusetts, and the
Quebec act.

"To these grievances, acts, and measures," it was added, "Americans
cannot submit, but in hopes their fellow subjects in Great Britain, will, on
a revision of them, restore us to that state in which both countries found
happiness and prosperity, we have, for the present only, resolved to pursue
the following peaceable measures:

"I. To enter into a non-importation, non-consumption, and non-expor
tation agreement, or association.

"2. To prepare an address to the people of Great Britain, and a memo
rial to the inhabitants of British America.

"3. To prepare a loyal address to His Majesty."

The Congress remained in session fifty-one days ; it sat, as has been
said, with closed doors ; it had no reporters, and, were it not for the official
papers promulgated, and the fragmentary statements embodied in the
journals of members, the world would have remained forever in ignorance
of its proceedings. Of Washington's part in its debates we have no dis
tinct record ; he had no independent vote, and the account surviving tells
us nothing of the attitude he assumed. Patrick Henry 'has, however, left

04 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

us an invaluable legacy in these words, spoken to a friend upon his return
home: "If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is
by far the greatest orator ; but, if you speak of solid information and sound
judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on the
floor." So far as Washington is concerned, this statement will readily be
accepted as accurate, but Henry did himself an injustice. There exists, in
the journal of more than one member, evidence that the first speech of the
young Virginian in Congress, closing with the famous words : "I am not a
Virginian, but an American," marked him as the most eloquent of his peo
ple. Who can say too much in praise of the wisdom, the bravery, the
determination and yet the moderation of the body of men which composed
that first Congress. The words of a wise and just opponent say more for
them than could the warmest encomiums of friends and countrymen. He
said in the House of Lords : " When your lordships look at the papers trans
mitted to us from America ; when you consider their decency, firmness, and
wisdom, you cannot but respect their cause and wish to make it your own.
For myself, I must declare and avow that, in the master states of the world,
I know not the people or senate, who, in such a complication of difficult
circumstances, can stand in preference to the delegates of America assem
bled in general Congress in Philadelphia."

Gage had, in the meantime, adopted measures even more stringent
than before, for the reduction of Boston to order and loyalty. He moved
troops out of the city by night and took possession of the powder stored in
a public magazine at Charlestown. In the morning a large force of armed
colonists assembled, with the declared intention of marching against the
city, but better counsels prevailed, and the affair ended with no worse result
than the loss of the munitions and the spreading of the false report of the
cannonading of Boston, already referred to. In Virginia the war feeling was
thoroughly aroused. The independent companies, commonly in existence,
were multiplied and increased, and Washington was constantly assailed for
advice and counsel. He joined heartily in sympathy with the spirit of
resistance, should such course prove necessary, and asserted his readiness to
assume command of the Virginia troops in the event of war.

Early in the year 1770 Lord Grafton resigned the portfolio of prime
minister of England, and Lord North was named his successor. The latter
seems to have appreciated the grave dangers which threatened the English
power in America, but not to have comprehended the fact that the matter
had been reduced to a conflict for principle, not merely for pecuniary gain.
Under his advice, all the duties levied in 1767, save that on tea, were removed
— the latter being maintained for the assertion of the right of the crown to
tax its colonies. He was urged to relinquish this exception, but said: "The
properest time to exert our right to taxation is when the right is refused.
To temporize is to yield ; and the authority of the mother country, if it

RIPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 65

is now unsupported, will be relinquished forever. A total repeal cannot be
thought of till America is prostrate at our feet." Thus the new pre
mier, not only nullified the effect of his concessions, but aroused by his
utterances an antagonism far more serious and determined than any that
had gone before. As a consequence, a general covenant was entered into,
and strictly adhered to throughout the* colonies, not to use any tea until the
tax was removed. The effect of the non-tea-drinking policy in America
was disastrous to the East India company, which accumulated in its London
warehouses the thousands upon thousands of chests that would have natur
ally supplied the colonial market. Government interfered to protect its
pet corporation, by the passage of an act freeing the commodity from
export duties, thus enabling the company to sell it so cheaply in America
that it was hoped the colonies might be tempted from their pledge. Ships
were at once loaded and cleared for the various American ports ; from some
they returned to London with unbroken cargoes ; at others they unloaded and
the tea spoiled in warehouses and cellars ; nowhere was the tea sold in any
considerable quantity. It was reserved for Boston to give the most decisive
proof of determination to receive or consume no taxable goods. Vessels
laden with tea reaching that port, a small quantity was landed, but its sale
was prohibited. The governor refused to give the vessels clearance to
return to England, and there was every evidence of a determination to test
the colonies to the utmost, by compelling the retention and the landing of
the cargoes. On the night of the i6th of December, 1773, a party of
young men, disguised as Indians, boarded the vessels and, to the last chest,
threw the tea into the harbor.

So soon as the news of this action reached England, Parliament
passed an act closing the port of Boston and removing the custom office to
Salem, thus seeking by direct retaliation to reduce the spirit of citizens of
a town which, more than any other, had earned the displeasure of the
crown. Not content with this, subsequent legislation provided that all
judicial officers of the province should be appointed by the crown, to hold
office during the royal pleasure, and that persons accused of capital offences
committed in aid of the magistrates, might be removed to other colonies or
to England for trial. When the news of this legislation reached America it
everywhere met with the unmeasured condemnation of the people. Public
meetings in Boston and New York adopted resolutions expressing a
sense of the outrage, and the Virginia House of Burgesses declared similar
sentiments and was promptly dissolved. On the 1st of June the order
closing the port of Boston went into effect, and the clay was kept as one
of fasting and prayer throughout the colonies.

General Gage, the officer who led the advance in Braddock's battle with
the French, was the newly appointed commandant at Boston, and upon him
was imposed the responsibility of enforcing the regulations of the crown, and,

66 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

somewhat unjustly, the ignominy that of necessity attached to the applica
tion of measures so severe. General Gage did not assume the attitude of
one commanding the protective garrison of a friendly city ; his action was
that of armed occupation, for restraint, if not for punishment. The
neck which unites the peninsula, upon which Boston is built, with the main
land, was entirely entrenched; guns mounted in the works with muzzles
pointing landward, and every preparation made to meet and successfully
resist any movement which might be made by the colonists, against
the troops of the king. The commander showed little tact in dealing with
the people of Boston, who were in an extremely excited state ; the public
meetings, which aroused his apprehension, were prohibited to be held,
after a given date, but this order was practically nullified by the citi
zens, who kept alive the meetings already convened.

PATRICK HENRY

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON.

CHAPTER X.

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON.

AT last came the night of the famous i8th of April, 1775. Gage held
Boston with a force of eight thousand men, strongly placed, defended
by land batteries, and supported by the guns of men-of-war in the harbor.
Urged by his own pride and the solicitations of the toadies about him,
he determined to capture the public arsenal at Concord, twenty miles
from the city. Though preparations were made with great secrecy, and alf
roads leading to the city were picketed, information of the design leaked
out, and when, on the night of the iSth, nine hundred infantry embarked in
boats and landed in Cambridge, a lantern hung in the tower of the old
South Church flashed out the intelligence to the patriots, and before the
movement was well begun, that famous " midnight ride of Paul Revere,"
had spread the news through the dark and sleeping villages before the
troops. Consequently the advance was made to the unwelcome music of
alarm guns and pealing bells. The commander of the expedition, Colonel
Swift, sent back for reinforcements, while Major Pitcairn pushed on to
secure the way and the bridges at Concord. At Lexington a handful
of armed colonists — less than seventy — drawn up in order on the common,
awaited the coming regulars. Major P'tcairn ordered them to disperse;
some one — on which side no one will ever know — fired a shot, a general desul
tory firing followed, eight of the continentals fell dead and ten wounded,
the first blood had been shed in an armed collision between king and
colonies, — the war of the Revolution was begun.

At Concord the time had permitted of a larger gathering; every effort
was made to remove and conceal the munitions contained in the magazine,
and with so much success that little remained for the regulars when they
came. The continentals, hearing of the collision at Lexington, were
excited to the highest degree, but finding themselves three times outnum
bered by the advancing force, retired to an eminence near the town, while

68 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the British conducted the almost futile search, and sacking of the magazine.
The regulars arrived at 7 o'clock in the morning. About 10 o'clock,
the northerly bridge of the two that span the Concord river in the village
being held by the British, the defending body was attacked by a force of
three hundred Americans, who, after some loss, carried the bridge and
forced the regulars back upon the main body. Colonel Swift, having com
pleted his work, determined to retreat, and set out upon an orderly retro
grade movement toward Boston. The provincials now took the offensive ;
dispersing upon the flanks of the enemy, after the backwoods fashion, firing
from behind trees, stumps, and stone fences ; presenting no target for
the volleys of the regulars, yet making every bullet from their own guns
effective ; galling the enemy in the open country ; assailing him so closely,
where the road passed through woodland, as to make fearful havoc in his
ranks, these inexperienced farmers and blacksmiths, absolutely without a
leader, acting in no concert, save that which arose from a community of
wrongs, drove a superior force of the flower of British regulars from retreat
to rout, from rout to headlong, disorderly flight, a flight in which no man
paused to raise his fallen or wounded comrade from the ground, until, at 2
o'clock in the afternoon, a brigade of one thousand men, sent as reinforce
ments from Boston, opened its ranks to receive the panting and terror-
stricken fugitives to the protection of its guns and muskets. This modern
Thermopylae was the first victory of America; the parallel, in less degree,
of Braddock's disaster at Duquesne. The pursuit was only given over at
sunset, the provincials being called to a halt at Charlestown common.
Their forces had been constantly increased by the arrival of minute men
and others, who had left their homes so soon as word of the battle reached
them, armed with whatever weapons they could command. Had the royal
force shown but a little less zeal in the flight, their annihilation or capture
would have been assured. As it was, the body of men who had moved so
confidently out as for a holiday expedition, entered Boston as thoroughly
demoralized as ever were royal troops, sent to face plow-boys and clodhop
pers.

In Virginia, at the very time when came the news of the affair at Con
cord, Lord Dunmore, the Governor, was engaged in carrying into effect the
royal mandate, by seizing all stores and munitions of war within the colony.
Only his timely retreat from this determination saved him, unpracticed as
he was, from capture.

The mustering of forces in the East was speedy, and augured ill foi
Gage. All the New England colonies began the levy of troops to assist
their neighbors of Massachusetts. Among others, Generals Artemas Ward
and Israel Putnam, hastened to offer their services, and the former was
advanced to the command of the camp, where were stationed the forces of
the allied colonies.

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 69

During the following month the daring exploits of Ethan Allen and
Benedict Arnold accomplished the capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point,
and the opening of the only available highway to Canada, and all without
the loss or even wounding of a man.

On the loth of May, 1775, the Second Continental Congress assembled
at Philadelphia. A formal petition to the crown was again adopted, but
the pressing and absorbing measure was as to the recognition and main
tenance of the Massachusetts army, which was really besieging Boston. A
federation of the colonies was proposed, leaving each to regulate its
internal affairs, but reposing the central authority in an executive commit
tee of twelve. A resolution to admit any colony that irp^ht still apply,
though it had not been represented in the former Congress, brought Georgia
into line, and the Congress was ready to take practical legislative action.
It authorized the issuing of notes to the amount of three million dollars,
for which the faith of the colonies should be pledged, and directed the
purchase of supplies, the enlistment and equipment of troops, and the
construction of fortifications; then it turned to the consideration of the
army of New England. It is not surprising that there should have been a
disagreement on this point. The Southern men urged that, the army hav
ing been recruited in New England, if a commander in chief were appointed
from the same section, any contribution which the South might make
would be but to an alien force. New England, on the other hand, held
that for the very reason that they had armed and equipped the troops, and
had shed the first blood, they were entitled to the command. General
Artemas Ward was already at the head of the army, and the men were
quite satisfied with him; John Hancock, though he had never seen service
except in the militia, was anxious for the honor; Colonel Charles Lee,
a brilliant officer, but a foreigner and an adventurer, was in the lists, as
well. Washington's name was prominently before the Congress, but he
had no agency in the matter. When John Adams, with a spirit of true
patriotism, determined to throw over all sectional considerations, arose in
his place and, without using a name, clearly indicated his preference for
Washington, the latter, who sat near the door, hastened from the room,
determined no longer to take part in the debate. The question was not
then decided; it was determined to hold it open and take the sense of the
people on the subject, but, this having been done, there remained no ques
tion that Washington was the popular candidate, and he was consequently,
on the 1 5th of June, 1775, named commander in chief of all the forces cf
the united colonies. At the same time it was determined to properly clothe,
arm, equip, and pay the army already assembled in New England and to
supplement its strength with ample reinforcement.

Washington felt natural gratification at his selection, and accepted the
trust with an avowed intention to fulfil it to the utmost of his power, but

7Q GEORGE WASHINGTON.

there is no question that he united with this grateful feeling a profound
distrust of his own ability to perform its duties. Although his pay
had been fixed by Congress at five hundred dollars per month, he declined
all compensation, saying that he would keep an exact account of his actual
expenses, and would rely upon Congress to discharge the same. Immedi
ately upon receiving his appointment Washington set out for New England.
His only previous visit to that colony had been with the purpose of deter
mining the relative standing of a royal and a provincial officer ; this later
one had the same object, but the question was to be settled by a very
different arbitrament. He was met by a committee of the Massachusetts
Legislature and escorted to the camp by a body of militia and many citizens.
Upon his arrival he was presented with an address of the House of Repre
sentatives, of so cordial a nature as clearly to indicate that any momentary
disappointment the people might have felt at the non-appointment of a
New England man as commander, had quite passed away. Having thus
arrived on the 2d day of July, 1775, the first duty of the new commandant
was to reconnoiter the position of the enemy.

Already, on the I7th of June, two days after Washington's appoint
ment, had occurred the first organized battle of the war ; that truly wonder
ful struggle for the possession of Breed's and Bunker's Hills. On the night
of the 1 6th General Putnam and Colonel Prescott, with one thousand two
hundred men, poorly equipped and utterly undisciplined, crossed unob
served the jealously guarded neck, fortified Breed's hill, the eminence nearer
Boston ; threw out a flanking work of fence-rails and hay, extending to the
river marshes ; built a second fortification upon Bunker's hill, in the rear,
and, when daylight came, presented, to the eyes of the astonished Brit
ish, series of works upon both eminences commanding the city, already
armed with artillery and manned by a force of no insignificant strength.
General Gage was not only mortified but alarmed at the discovery ; he
saw that the provincials were in a position to cannonade the city, and that
their dislodgement was not simply a matter of military policy, but one of
absolute necessity. Consequently, after the Americans had been for some
hours the objects of a terrible cannonading from men-of-war in the river,
and from floating batteries upon the Mystic, a large force, under General
Howe, was moved across in boats, with directions to carry the works by
assault. Some delay, on the part of the British, gave time for the arrival
of General Stark, with a reinforcement of five hundred Connecticut regulars.
These were sent to strengthen Putnam, who was in command at the fence
already referred to, while Prescott remained in the redoubt. At last the
British, numbering some two thousand men, advanced, confident of an easy
victory. General Howe detailed General Pigot with a portion of the force,
to ascend the hill and carry the redoubt, while he himself, with the
remainder, dislodged Putnam, turned the flank of the Americans, and cut off

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. /I

their retreat. Both bodies moved steadily on, firing occasional almost harm,
less volleys, until within a few yards of the American works, wh<_-n the
provincials, who had been directed to reserve their fire, received them with
volleys so accurately directed, and so terribly effective, as to utterly confuse
them, and compel a retirement most hasty and disorderly, some of the
men, as we are told, not pausing until they reached the boats. A second
attempt resulted, after more determined effort, in the same way, the British
force falling back with terrible slaughter.

Between the rail fence and the redoubt was a gap which the patriots had
been unable, for lack of time, to fill. This, it was resolved, should be the
objective point of a third assault, which General Howe, against the
entreaties of his advisers, determined to make. Making a feint with the
main body against the fence, General Howe brought his artillery to bear
upon this open space, then led his main body in an assault. Both forces
reserved their fire — the Americans had their last ammunition in their pieces,
one volley was exchanged at short range, followed by a bayonet attack by
the British, and a desperate hand to hand struggle for the possession of
every inch of ground, which ultimately resulted in the retreat of the Amer
icans, who, had they repulsed the enemy in that attack, could not have
held the works, by reason of the fact that they had absolutely no ammuni
tion. At the fence Putnam held the detachment of the enemy until after the
evacuation of the redoubt, then joined in the retreat, which the British were
too crippled and fatigued to molest. There seems little doubt that, had the
ammunition of the Americans not fallen short, the redoubt would have been
held, reinforced during the night, and rendered almost impregnable, thus
putting Boston at the mercy of the provincial artillery. As it was, of the
two thousand British engaged, one thousand two hundred and fifty were
killed or wounded, while the one thousand seven hundred Americans lost
but four hundred and fifty. Such, in bare outline, was the famous battle
which taught the British a second lesson as to the real stuff of which the
American is made, and which, although it failed of its main object, was
of invaluable service in inspiring the patriot soldiers with confidence in
themselves, and in ridding them of their tendency to over-estimate the
value of scarlet cloth, brass buttons, and gold lace. On the other hand, it
was sufficient to impress the Continental Congress with the necessity of hav
ing a single head to the army — thus strengthening Washington's position,
and also giving substantial force to his demands for organized ordnance and
commissary departments.

Washington, upon his arrival, found the British army some eight thou
sand strong, supported by the guns of the fleet and the Mystic river bat
teries, and busy in fortifying the twin hills which it had cost them so much
to win. A battery upon Copp's hill, on the Boston side of the water, a
division of troops encamped on Roxbury neck, and a comparatively small

72 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

body of cavalry and infantry in the city itself, completed the arrangement
and assignment for defense.

The American army straggled over a distance of not less than twelve
miles, from a point beyond Roxbury, toward Dorchester, where the right
rested, across the Charles river to the position of the left on the Mystic.
Every inch of this extensive line it was necessary to block, in order to con
tinue the imprisonment of the British. For this service Washington found
at his disposal fourteen thousand five hundred men. The simple statement
of this force, however, gives a false idea of its actual efficiency. It lacked
everything in the way of organization, the troops had come as volunteers
from different colonies, were separately encamped, and, while they had, by
common consent, recognized General Ward as first in command, they were
subservient to their various commanders in all matters within and appertain
ing to their several bodies, and there was quite as much variety in the mat
ter of discipline as of dress and armament. There was no recognition in
most cases of any superiority of non-commissioned and platoon officers over
the rank and file — the men living on terms of perfect equality with all.
There was no common source of supply of sustenance and munitions.
Each colony pretended to supply its own levies, and Washington found it
necessary to correspond with the officers of every colony — sometimes
actually with the officers and committees of towns. There was lack of tents
— hence the men made themselves shelters or were quartered in barracks.
The army was primarily divided into three divisions ; the command of
the right, about Roxbury, assigned to General Ward; the left, lying on
the Mystic, placed in charge of Major-general Lee ; the center Washington
commanded, having his headquarters at Cambridge.

His own judgment was that it was vitally important by some means to
crush the British force in Boston before the active war measures in England
should compass its reinforcement. He believed that no more favorable time
for the accomplishment of the desired result would ever occur than then
offered, and, although his own force was so greatly inferior in dis
cipline, and equipment, he believed that a coup de main, well planned and
boldly executed, might be successful, and would well repay the heavy loss
that must surely attend it. One of the first orders given by the commander
in chief was that a strict account be taken of all powder on hand, and a
report be made to him. The officer charged with the duty returned with the
answer that there were three hundred and three barrels in store. This,
though not a large stock, was sufficient for an emergency, and Washington
only awaited a fitting opportunity to adopt offensive measures, when there
came a second report to the effect that, instead of the amount first stated,
there was barely enough powder in the magazines to make nine cartridges for
each man, and none at all for artillery use ! This egregious error had arisen
from the making of the first report on the basis of the original amount of

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 73

powder furnished by the various colonies, making no deduction for the
amount used in muskets and cannon at the battle of Bunker's Hill. Thus
Washington found himself not only entirely helpless, so far as any offensive
movement was concerned, but in a position where, should the British make
a sortie, he could not hope to make a successful resistance. His only hope
lay in the ignorance of his condition on the part of the enemy, and the preser
vation of this he did his utmost to assure, in the meantime dispatching the
most pressing messages to Congress and to the authorities of the various
colonies, representing his condition of literal helplessness, and begging for
succor. In spite of all this effort two weeks elapsed before the first re
sponse came; then it was in the form of a very small supply of powder
from New Jersey, but, meagre as it was, an equal weight of gold would not
have been more welcome, for it enabled the army, if attacked, to make at
least one stand against the enemy. In spite of all the address used in pre
venting knowledge of this lack of ammunition coming to the ears of the
beleaguered British, there can be little doubt that they did, in fact, learn of
it, but could not be led to believe that an army of rustics, without
bayonets or powder, would have the assurance to continue the siege of a city
so garrisoned, and dismissed the report as a story invented to entrap them.
Notwithstanding all the weaknesses and disadvantages which have been indi
cated, Washington saw in the force under his command "the materials of a
good army." He had men in considerable number; these men were enthu
siastic, determined, and brave, beyond question. What they needed was
organization, discipline, equipment, and maintenance. The first two needs
he felt himself competent to supply ; the others he trusted to Congress to
furnish, and he had much encouragement to believe that none of the diffi
culties would prove insuperable, and that, within the space of a few months,
at least, he should find himself at the head of an army as effective as the
emergency demanded. After making the three grand divisions referred to,
he passed to the organization of divisions and brigades, placing upon the
shoulders of generals in command the drill and discipline of the men. He
promulgated rules, prescribed punishments for their infraction, and soon-
made unruly and insubordinate soldiers realize the fact that they were no
longer attached to mere levies, but were factors in a regularly organized
army. Imprisonment, flogging, even death, were fixed as penalties for mis
behavior, and were rigorously applied whenever guilt was established.

In the meantime both besieged and besiegers were busy in strengthening
their works, neither averse to a fight, neither secure enough of the result to
risk taking the initiative. Boston was beginning to sorely feel the restraints
of the siege and to suffer for lack of fresh meat and vegetables. Only by
sea could these be obtained, and even that means of supply was uncertain
and attended with danger. Washington recommended that cattle be driven
inland, and that such other supplies as could be readily transported be

74 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

removed beyond the reach of foragers from the coast. There came bitter
and piteous complaints of the rapacity of the English from coastwise towns
and villages, with urgent requests for armed protection from the army before
Boston. Washington could not detail troops for outside service without
risking the loss of the main end of the campaign, and he so answered those
who had appealed to him, saying that they must rely upon their own militia
for local protection. So much dissatisfaction was, however, felt at this rul
ing, and so pertinacious were the demands made upon him, that the com
mander was obliged to obtain from Congress the passage of a resolution to
the effect that the army had been organized for service against Boston and
the regular forces of Great Britain, and that it must not be weakened for
especial service of the kind. This to a degree relieved Washington from
what had been a very annoying importunity, and, at the same time, induced
the citizens of exposed districts to organize quite efficiently for the protec
tion of their homes, a result that greatly assisted in the maintenance of the
blockade and in the annoyance of the British. At Newport, Rhode Island,
the town having suffered somewhat severely from the depredations of the
British, the committee made an agreement with the commander on the sta
tion to supply him with necessary provisions, being in return guaranteed
against loss or damage from his vessels or men. It was necessary for Wash
ington to interfere to secure the overthrow of this injurious arrangement.

In July, 1775, Georgia, the only colony heretofore unrepresented,
chose delegates to the Congress, and the phrase, adhered to thereafter,
"The Thirteen United Colonies," was assumed as the title of the alliance.
Upon the meeting of Congress, one of the most pressing matters claim
ing its attention was provision for some manner of maritime service,
without which it was difficult to maintain a blockade or in any manner to
protect the towns and cities upon the American seacoast. Pending the
building and equipment of vessels adequate to direct competition with those
of the English navy, it was proposed to grant letters of marque and reprisal
to all applicants and thus, by appealing to a desire for plunder, secure
the arming, at no cost to the colonies, of an efficient fleet of privateers.
Congress hesitated to adopt a measure so radically hostile in tone, and was
contented, instead, with voting a resolution authorizing the capture or
destruction of any vessel in any manner aiding the enemies of the United Col
onies. This resolution was so worded as to convey, under cover of apparent
moderation, license to attack any possible vessel bearing the British flag.
The result was exactly what had been anticipated and desired. All along
the American coast there sprang into being, as if by magic, a fleet of priva
teers — small, swift, more or less completely armed — manned by hardy seamen
who knew every curve and indentation of the coast — who could elude pur
suit by running into shallow water, and who knew no fear of either wind or
lead. These men had many of them suffered by the rapacity of the British.

CONCORD, LEXINGTON, AND THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 75

All were fully alive to the pecuniary advantage of capturing a merchant
man or cutting off a convoy. Hence their service was of the most efficient ;
the British merchant marine suffered seriously, as did the military transports
bearing troops, arms, ammunition, and supplies to the British army in
America. The double advantage of depriving the royal army of needed
munitions and of obtaining the same to relieve the desperate straits of the
Americans was keenly felt by Congress, and the privateersmen reaped
abundant reward for their services. Their captures, too, constantly
strengthened their own fleet and enabled the colonies to lay the foundation
of a navy.

Congress also took steps to provide for the better arming and equip
ment of its army, and for meeting the problem of re-enlistment — one
scarcely less serious or difficult. To thoroughly appreciate the mistakes
of army organization that began with the war and were never entirely recti
fied, it is necessary to appreciate that, until nearly the middle of the year
1776, the idea of independence as the ultimate object of the war had not
gained ground among the better class of Americans. When arms were first
taken up it was with no other object than to resist the asserted right to tax
the colonies. The leaders of the people from the first regarded an accommo
dation of the difficulty as the highest and best thing to be hoped for, provided
such an accommodation were obtained with no sacrifice of honor or princi
ple. Even when the batteries at Boston were thundering at each other;
when the dead of king and colonies were buried; when wounded groaned in
the hospitals and prisoners languished in jails, the Continental Congress
appointed a day of fasting and prayer, one of the objects of which was to
implore the Almighty "to bless our rightful sovereign, King George III.,
and inspire him with wisdom." The spirit which induced this dedication
gives a clue to the cause of the fundamental error of enlisting men, not for
the period during which their services should be required, or for a long and
definite term, but for one year. From the outset of his service at Cam
bridge until late in the war, Washington was compelled each year to raise
and reduce to discipline a new army, thus crippling himself and damaging
the cause of the colonies beyond computation.

Matters in and before Boston remained in a state of unbroken quiet
until late in August, when, a somewhat better organization having been
effected, and the supply of ammunition being increased, Washington deter
mined that he would, if possible, provoke a sortie. To this end he detached
a force of fourteen hundred men, and during the night seized and fortified a
height on Charlestown neck, within musket shot of the enemy's lines. At
daybreak the astonished British, discovering the American battery, opened
a heavy cannonading from Bunker's hill, but kept behind their defenses,
and did little damage. The Americans had not sufficient ammunition to

76 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

warrant them in engaging in an artillery duel, and worked busily in strength
ening their works, only answering the fire of the enemy with an occasional
shot from a nine pounder. A ball from one of these sunk a British floating
battery, but the expedient was fruitless in provoking an engagement.

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 77

CHAPTER XI.

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN-EVACUATION OF BOSTON.

THE scope of this work will not permit of closely following the move
ments of the war, save as they directly involved and affected the
fortunes of the commander in chief. Active operations had at this time
been commenced in the North, and, with varying fortune, these were con
tinued until, at one time, Canada seemed in the grasp of the colonies. Fort
Ticonderoga had been surprised and captured by Allen; Crown Point, and,
in fact, Lake Champlain, were in the hands of the colonists. The rivalry of
Arnold and Greene had resulted in an advantage for Arnold and in his re
maining in command at Ticonderoga.

To fully appreciate the condition of affairs, it should be remembered
that Canada was a recently conquered territory of Great Britain ; that
the old French population was perforce submissive — not loyal ; that the
settlement of English and Scotch had only laid the foundation for the
British population and spirit of a century later. The old forts and garrisons
had been kept up, and the mission of reconciliation and peace was then
preached by England, as later in India and Zululand, with cannon and mus
kets to emphasize its arguments. In other words, England's tenure of
Canada was but little more than an armed occupation. Under these circum
stances, the desirability of attaching native Canadians to the cause of the
revolting colonies was obvious, and at once attracted the attention of Wash
ington and others. Nor was it so difficult an operation. The results of the
expeditions undertaken clearly prove that, with little more adequate means,
even with the slender force employed, had circumstances been more favor
able, Canada would have passed from British control ; the guns and defences
of the chain of forts from Detroit to Quebec, would have been turned
against the king; the sympathy and assistance of His Most Christian Maj
esty of France would have been sooner enlisted, and the war of Indepen
dence must have been more speedily terminated.

78 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

In accordance with this idea, it was arranged that Schuyler, with all his
available force, should set out in boats from Ticonderoga, if possible reduce
St. Johns, and press forward against Montreal and other St. Lawrence posts.
Having secured these he was to proceed to Quebec, make a junction with
Benedict Arnold, who had orders to proceed overland through Maine, and,
with the capture of Quebec, complete the expulsion of the British from
eastern Canada and leave the surrender of Detroit and other western forts
a certainty. Schuyler was then at Albany, and at once hastened to Ticon
deroga to carry out his orders, while Arnold immediately set out, with about
one thousand men, on his perilous march toward Quebec. Arrived at Ticon
deroga Schuyler found that Montgomery, the gallant veteran left in com
mand of that fort, hearing of a projected movement of the British through
the Sorel, against Lake Champlain, had already embarked a force and moved
northward. Schuyler followed, though so ill as to be carried aboard a boat
on his bed. He found Montgomery still moving northward, and a landing
was effected on the Isle aux Noix, twelve miles from St. Johns. Ethan
Allen was sent out to obtain recruits- among the Canadians. He learned
that Montreal was but slenderly garrisoned, and, with his usual disregard
of orders, marched against it, with the hope of repeating his Ticonderoga
exploit. In this he failed, his men were scattered or captured, and he
placed in irons upon a British man-of-war and sent to England, where
he remained in confinement until 1778. In the meantime the move
ment against St. Johns was carried on, and after Allen's fiasco, Carle-
ton moved to its relief with a motley force of regulars, Canadians,
and Indians. At the mouth of the Sorel he was surprised and com
pelled to return to Montreal with loss. St. Johns then capitulated,
and with its much needed ordnance and stores fell into the hands of
Montgomery. The latter at once pushed on to the St. Lawrence, and
Carleton, alarmed, evacuated Montreal and took refuge upon one of the
vessels of the British flotilla. The fleet was blockaded by the Ameri
can batteries at the mouth of the Sorel and could not escape. Montgomery
took possession of the city and later captured the fleet, but Carleton had
escaped down the river in disguise.

Now came the sad disappointment and the ruin of a campaign so
auspiciously begun and so bravely prosecuted. Arnold, in the face of
inconceivable hardship, peril, and destitution, had ascended to the head
waters of the Kennebec. Thence he had forced himself through an almost
unbroken and trackless wilderness, and emerged upon the banks of the St.
Lawrence, opposite the city of Quebec. Spies had warned the British com
mander of his danger, and every boat upon the southern side of the river
had been removed or destroyed. Undaunted by this Arnold embarked
in the frail bark canoes of the Indians, crossed the river, followed the brave
Wolfe's footsteps to the plains of Abraham and stood before the ancient and

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 79

ill garrisoned city, unsuspected as unannounced. The gate of St. John's
was the nearest entrance, and Arnold, with his seven hundred effective men,
desired to attack it. It was open, and unguarded, and, had the council of
war which overruled the commander but known this, Quebec would prob
ably have fallen ; but, alarmed by the strong defenses of the city, they could
not bring themselves to an assault with a force of but seven hundred men,
and Arnold reluctantly gave way to them. Soon the city was aroused, the
gate secured. Arnold sent a flag demanding surrender ; the flag was insulted.
Another flag was sent, with no better result, when he withdrew to a point
fifteen miles up the river, to await Montgomery. Here arose the trouble.
Montgomery had no sooner gained possession of Montreal, and captured
the flotilla of the British, than he proposed to proceed at once to Quebec.
Then he was shocked and disheartened to find that his men, save only a
very few, refused to go farther. The rigor of a Canadian winter was at
hand, the time of service was almost expired, the men were weary, home
sick, and insufficiently clothed. They were only common, little educated
men ; they were ill-disciplined, and knew nothing of subordination, — all
these things may be said in extenuation, yet the fact remains, that their
desertion was a base and ignominious one, and the source of incalculable
injury to the cause which was their own. Priceless hours and days were
lost in an effort to induce them to remain, then they straggled homeward,
and left their gallant commander, with a sad remnant of his force — only
about three hundred men — to hasten down the river to the assistance of
Arnold.

The united body numbered less than one thousand men. Had Mont
gomery been able to bring his entire force, Quebec must have capitulated or
fallen. Now, the city was reinforced, Carleton was in command, and the
demands of the pitiful body of men without its walls were treated with con
tempt. The watch before those walls, the reiterated demands for surrender,
the suffering from cold, the deaths by small pox and other diseases, and the
final assault, upon that snowy morning — the 3ist of December, 1775 — when
Montgomery, with but seven hundred and fifty men, sought to capture a walled
and garrisoned town — all this stands out upon the pages of America's record,
as one of the bravest and most glorious efforts in her history. With the old
year went out the life of the noble Montgomery, and many another brave
fellow ; Arnold, wounded and grief-stricken, dragged himself from the field
with his handful of exhausted and disheartened troops, scarcely five hundred
in number, and sat down to watch before the walls until succor should come.
But Canada was lost. A victory at Quebec would have brought her people
flocking to the colonial standard ; a defeat depressed and discouraged them.
It is difficult to leave this brief discussion of the Canadian expedition
without saying a word for Arnold. Had he fallen that snowy night, his
name would have come down to us in glorious companionship with that of

SO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the hero Montgomery; he had accomplished in his march to Quebec and
his demonstration against the city, one of the most brilliant military feats in
the history of America ; he had shown himself brave, tireless, and devoted.
He had overcome the final difficulties of his tremendous march, and cast
himself in the face of the enemy, as if courting death. Had he done such
deeds under attainder of treason, the world would have declared him
cleansed of sin as by fire, but, with all the glory of his achievements upon
him, he fell, the only traitor of the Revolution.

Washington was, in the meantime, very far from easy concerning
affairs about Boston. The former serious perplexities of his position were
much increased by the approach of the new year, at which time the term of
enlistment of his soldiers expired. The immediate enthusiasm which had
called the men to the field had subsided ; long inactivity had discouraged
them. They were neither so well fed, clothed, nor lodged, as to look for
ward to the coming of winter with much philosophy. There was, of
course, a considerable element of the army moved by a deeper sense of
responsibility and duty; this Washington knew must form the nucleus of
his new force. His labor was incessant ; he worked personally among the
men; he endeavored to excite their patriotism by artificial means, as respira
tion is sought to be induced in a half drowned person. Patriotic songs
were sung and music played ; officers were conjured to use their influence
directly with their troops. Upon the near approach of the end of the year
the various colonies were requested to send minute men and militia to
strengthen the lines. Such came forward quite liberally from some of the
colonies, but, in spite of this contingent, the early part of January found
the army of investment reduced to but ten thousand men, many of whom
were undisciplined and many more dissatisfied. The New England soldiers
who refused to remain and who set out homeward, found their way anything
but a path of roses. People along the road would scarcely give them food
or shelter, and when they reached their homes their wives, mothers, and
sisters often met them with such scorn and contempt as to drive them back
to re-enlist. Some took their guns and equipments with them by stealth,
and an order was made that every man should leave his arms behind, though
they belonged to him personally, and receive a fair price for the same, so
lacking were the colonies in these primary means of pursuing the war.
Washington wrote to the Governor of Massachusetts, reflecting in sharp
terms upon the conduct of the troops from his colony, and received the
answer sadly admitting the justice of the complaints and promising every
assistance in his power toward making up the loss. In these trying times
the cheerfulness and bravery of General Greene were sources of the great
est encouragement and satisfaction to Washington, and a personal confidence
and friendship grew up between them which no circumstance ever inter
rupted.

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 8 1

Washington found himself at Boston in the midst of a circle which
called for the exercise of a certain amount of formal hospitality. Himself
too deeply engrossed in grave affairs to give personal attention to social
matters, he at first very generally entrusted the oversight of the menage to
Mr. Reed, of Philadelphia, his private secretary — a gentleman of great
culture, fully competent to direct such affairs. The time came when Reed
was compelled to resign his post for the sake of his private interests, and
from that moment Washington was at sea in the matter of his various dinners
and other entertainments. As was almost inevitable under such conditions,
some inadvertencies or disregard of strict etiquette caused offense, and the
report of this fact coming to the ears of Reed, he wrote to Washington
apprising him of the truth. Washington's answer, disclaiming intention
of slighting anyone, is almost pitiful in its tone; that he, with the lion in
his path and the burthen of the colonies upon his shoulders, should have
been annoyed by the buzzing ot these social gnats, does indeed seem
enough to try the patience of a man even more patient than he. All dur
ing the late summer and fall of 1/75, reports had come to him that Lord
Dunmore, royal Governor of Virginia, was breathing out threatenings and
slaughter against the patriots of that colony, and that Mt. Vernon was in
danger. Mrs. Washington was at Mt. Vernon and, though she herself
made light of the supposed peril, Washington, by a letter dispatched to her
in November of that year, advised her to come at once to Cambridge. She
set out upon the toilsome journey, traveling slowly, detained by the diffi
culty of the road and the enthusiasm of the people, guarded by escorts
furnished by the various colonies through which she passed, though she her
self deemed such protection superfluous, at last arriving at headquarters late
in the year 17/5, Her splendid equipage — a carriage drawn by four black
horses from the famous Mt. Vernon stud, each ridden by a negro servant,
dressed in elaborate livery — attracted much attention, and some of the simple
New Englanders did not hesitate to condemn it as savoring of royalty. No
sooner had she come, than the social difficulties disappeared from the head
quarters of the commander; with the ready grace which birth and breeding
had made her own, she assumed her right as domestic dictator; her com
bined dignity and grace made the administration of her table and drawing-
room the delight and wonder of the gay little circle which had grown up
under the stern chaperonage of British cannon, and from that day invita
tions to the house of the commander were as eagerly sought as a hundred
years later were bids to the table of the great poet who lived beneath the
same roof.

January was a dark month before Boston, but through its earlier days
Washington was encouraged by the well-founded hope that good news from
Canada might come at any moment. Early in the month there was a
stir of preparation in the harbor; an embarkation was evidently contem-

82 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

plated, but for what point, whether of a detachment, or whether an evacu
ation of the city, no one not in the loyalist councils could say. Congress
and its military leaders had been greatly exercised over a letter from Lon
don exposing a British plan to obtain control of New York city and
Albany, placing strong garrisons in each; to float vessels of war in the
Hudson and the sound; to reduce Ticonderoga and Crown Point, by arms
or by starvation, and to establish uninterrupted communication and an
efficient co-operation between Quebec and New York. Even an unmili-
tary reader can see how disastrous this would have been to the colonies.
Cutting them effectually in twain, it would have enabled the British to
bring down levies of Canadians and Indians from the North, to render
effective the tory spirit, ever stronger in New York than elsewhere in Amer
ica, and would, in fact, have been the death blow of the Revolution and of
the hopes of the patriots.

Hitherto, Washington had not acted in any matter of great importance
without specific directions from Congress. Though such a supervision was
vexatious and useless, it had not, before, threatened disaster. Now it
seemed that the time had come for prompt and resolute action. General
Lee, who, whatever may justly be said against him, could not be accused of
wavering or indecision, had but just returned from a visit to Rhode Island,
where he had gone to strengthen the patriotism of weak-kneed colonists,
and to devise means for restraining the over-bold tories, who were openly
avowing their loyalty to the crown. So soon as Lee learned of the active
preparations on the part of the British for removal from Boston, he urged
upon Washington the necessity of at once moving to occupy New York.
He claimed, — and the course of subsequent campaigns vindicated his sagacity
— that delay, in such an emergency, would surrender to the British all that
they sought, and leave the Continental force powerless to resist. Hence
he was importunate in his request that Washington for once overlook the
general rule and move without consulting Congress. He acknowledged
that no troops could with safety be detached from Boston, and only asked
permission to go to Connecticut and raise a body of volunteers for the
service, relying upon the co-operation of New York and New Jersey levies
for' the rest. For the New York tories, who had done so much to impede
the cause of the colonies, he proposed heroic treatment. All were to be
required to give up their arms, and the arms so obtained to be used in
equipping patriot volunteers; a stringent oath, binding them to abstain
from taking part, actively or otherwise, against the colonies, was to be pro
posed, and all who refused it to be imprisoned for the public safety; the
property of non-jurors he recommended be confiscated, and, an appraisal of
all property of royalists being made, that those who took the oath should
be required to make a deposit equal to half the value of their possessions,
as security for good behavior. Washington hesitated somewhat at taking so

ISRAF.L PUTNAM.

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 83

radical and so independent a step. He bad a natural veneration for authority,
and it is doubtful if he would so far have ignored Congress had not John
Adams, one of the leading members of that body, been at the time in Boston.
To him the commander turned for advice, and Adams agreed with Lee as to
the importance of immediate action, and while he was scarcely prepared to
recommend all of these extreme measures, gave such advice that Washington
empowered the younger officer to proceed to execute his plan. In Connect
icut the latter met with unlocked for success. Men came to his standard
with a readiness which, as he said, was only to be compared with their
eagerness to go home, formerly displayed upon every occasion. A regi
ment had already been organized at and about New Haven, for a special
service, and was just disbanded, by order of Congress, when Lee arrived.
Governor Trumbull, however, readily consented that it be re-enlisted, and,
with this and the addition of a large number of other volunteers, Lee was
eoon ready to move. Consternation seized New York. Tories saw, in the
coming of a Connecticut army, the destruction of their cherished designs,
while Whigs feared that its coming would provoke the British vessels in
the harbor to a bombardment, that New York would be made a battle
ground, and the city destroyed. Many precipitately fled from the city,
while others, of both parties, besought the committee of safety to urge
Arnold not to cross the borders of the state. Pierre Van Cortland, presi
dent of the committee, wrote such a letter to Lee, begging him not to move
into New York at once, as, from lack of ammunition and fortification, the
city was not then in a condition to assail the fleet, or to resist its attacks.
Lee replied that he had no intentions of taking offensive steps against
the British at that time, and, if the ships should bombard the city, he
would make the first house fired by their shells, the funeral pyre of some
of their best friends. This last suggestion was not of a character to soothe
weak tory nerves, and both parties in New York were evidently convinced
that they had to deal with a man who would submit to no trifling. Lee,
though suffering with a severe attack of the gout, and compelled to be
borne in a litter, pushed on and reached New York on the 4th day of Feb
ruary, and on the same day Sir Henry Clinton, with the ships of war
detached from Boston, entered the harbor. Finding the city in the posses
sion of a superior military force, he shortly withdrew, saying that he had
only come to pay a visit to "his friend, Governor Tryon." Lee, in a letter
written to Washington, detailing the occurrence, said of this excuse: "If
it is really so, it is the most whimsical piece of civility I ever heard of."

Before Lee had thus carried his project to execution, Washington's hopes
for the success of the expedition against Canada were dashed by receiving a
letter from Schuyler, detailing the disaster at Quebec. The reverse was
indeed a most serious one to the colonies, by reason of its direct effects, as
entailing the necessity of either quite abandoning Canada or of reinforcing

84 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the handful of men remaining beyond the St. Lawrence, and as well, in the
loss of Montgomery, one of the bravest and wisest of the patriot generals.
Washington felt deep sorrow at the reverse of his arms and a poignant per
sonal grief at the loss of his friend and companion in arms. The difficulty
of reinforcement was met and a fresh force dispatched against Canada. Its
failure to accomplish the desired result is a matter of general history, and its
incidents cannot be followed here, but the news from the North redoubled
Washington's anxiety to protect New York and the Hudson, since the British
bade fair to command the St. Lawrence, if not the Sorel and Lake Champlain.
In the meantime something was to be done in central New York. Tryon
county was a nest of tories. Sir John Johnson's strong and isolated house
at Johnstown, was being made a rallying place ; Johnson had armed his
Scotch tenantry and Indian neighbors, fortified his hall, and, with all the
bravery of an old feudal knight or Highland chieftain, had sent out his
defiance to the colonies. In case the necessity for opposing the ascent of
the Hudson should arise, Johnson might prove more than an annoyance to
the rear of the continental force. Hence Schuyler was dispatched from
Albany to suppress the internal uprising. This he succeeded in doing,
secured the capitulation of Sir John, placed that doughty champion on his
parole, and brought away in triumph the arms, stores, and ammunition
which had been accumulated at the hall.

Thus, for the time, New York and Boston became the centres of inter
est. Washington sadly regretted that he had been overruled in his plan to
attack the latter at an early day in the siege. That which he most desired
was a decisive engagement, before the British government should reinforce
their American army to such a degree as to make the venture unsafe. As
he himself said, they had been waiting for nearly a year for the river to
freeze, so that an assault in force might be made upon the city, and when
the much desired opportunity came the council of war deemed the attempt
undesirable. In the meantime the army, the people, and even Congress
were becoming restive under their continual inaction, and many, ignorant of
the true condition of affairs, were ready to blame the commander that more
had not been done. One of Washington's letters to Mr. Reed — letters
which by their open confidence give the best knowledge of the general's
perplexities and troubles in those trying times — says : " My own situation
is so irksome to me at times that, if I did not consult the public good more
than my own tranquility, I should long ere this have put everything on the
cast of a die. So far from my having an army of twenty thousand men,
well armed, I have been here with less than one-half that number, including
sick, furloughed, and on command ; and those neither armed nor clothed as
they should be. In short, my situation has been such that I have been
obliged to use art to conceal it from my own officers."

The winter thus wore away, until came the month of February. Gag<?

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN — EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 8$

had long since given way to Howe, as commander of the British forces.
Spring was at hand, and, with its coming, active operations were to be
looked for. Clinton was prowling along the southern coast, with unknown
destination, but no uncertain object. He felt the coast of Virginia, but
found the colonial forces too strong to warrant molestation. Then he sailed
away to the southward, to meet, later, a defeat at the hands of the gallant
Moultrie. In the meantime some reinforcements had come to Washington,
at Boston ; Knox had returned from Ticonderoga, with much needed artil
lery, and a supply of ammunition had been received from New York. The
time to strike had evidently come. Washington called upon the colony of
Massachusetts to hold its militia in readiness, and laid his plans to arm
Lechmere Point, already fortified by Putnam, with heavy ordnance, to seize
and fortify Dorchester heights, and thus, commanding the town from both
north and south, to force Howe either to an engagement, or to evacuation.
He also contemplated holding the works at Lechmere, with a body of
picked men, under Putnam, who should, in case of a general attack upon
the Dorchester works, at once move upon the city from the opposite side.
This was a beautifully laid plan ; its execution was wonderful. The night
of Monday, March 4th, was set for the attempt. During the nights of the
2d and 3d, the army was kept busy in preparing gabions and large, com
pact bundles of hay, to be used in erecting works, which the frozen condi
tion of the ground rendered difficult. In the meantime a heavy artillery
fire was kept up with the intention of diverting attention from the work of
preparation, and answered by the British. In this it proved quite successful.
How little of its real meaning was suspected, may be gathered from the fol
lowing excerpt, from a letter written on the 3d, by a British officer to a
friend at home : " For these last six weeks, or near two months, we have
been better amused than could possibly have been expected in our situation.
We had a theater, we had balls, and there is actually a subscription on foot
for a masquerade. England seems to have forgotten us, and we have
endeavored to forget ourselves. But we were aroused to a sense of our
situation last night, in a manner unpleasant enough. The rebels have been,
for some time past, erecting a bomb battery, and last night began to play
upon us. Two shells fell not far from me. One fell on Colonel Monckton's
house, but luckily did not burst until it had crossed the street. Many
houses were damaged, but no lives lost. .... The rebel
army is not brave, I believe, but it is agreed, on all hands, that their artil
lery officers are at least equal to ours."

On Monday evening, under cover of a heavy cannonade, two thousand
men, with three hundred wagons, laden with intrenching tools, set out,
under command of General Thomas, from the lines at Roxbury and Dor
chester. A line of bundles of hay had been ranged along the exposed side
of the Neck, to protect the moving troops, in case of discovery. Arrived

86 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

upon the heights, the party divided, and the arduous work of fortification
was begun. The scene, taken in its full significance, was indeed an impres
sive one. Washington was himself on the ground. The moon was out,
and far below, on one side, could be seen the streets and fortifications of
the beleaguered city; beyond the bay, with its silent fleet; on the other hand
lay the camp of the little army of the patriots. Between, working silently,
save for the blows of mattocks upon the frozen ground, the thud of falling
clods, and now and then a whispered order, the busy workers, upon whose
silence and industry so much depended ; on either hand, the roar of the
guns, and, overhead, the shrill shrieking of the shells. Discovered too
soon, the guns or bayonets of the British would drive the pioneers from
their posts, and the reduction of Boston would be delayed until too late.
But it was not discovered until daylight revealed to the astonished gaze of
the awakened British two forts, so far advanced as to protect the workers
within from the guns of the city. Howe saw them and exclaimed: "The
rebels have done more work in one night, than my whole army would have
done in one month." What a position for Howe, the chosen officer of the
King! He had but shortly before written to his superiors, at home, that
nothing was to be feared from the rebel army ; that he would be pleased
at an attack, and would hold Boston, until reinforcements should come. In
the face of this self-satisfied boast, he now saw before him no other prospect
than either to make an assault upon the superior position of the continental
force, the wise placing of which counterbalanced all his advantages, derived
from the training, discipline and equipment of troops, or to stultify himself
before the home government by an evacuation of the city. It is probable
that the latter course, from the first, appealed to his wisdom, but the former
had the advocacy of his pride, and that fact decided his course.

All day, on the 5th of March, cannon thundered, and shot and shell
poured into the opposing fortifications. The Americans were enthusiastic
and confident, and the British dogged and desperate. A night attack had
been determined upon by Howe, and, before darkness fell, two thousand
five hundred men had been embarked for the service. But the God of bat
tles willed that no attack be made ; with the falling of the sun arose the
wind, and before preparations for advance were completed, the surf was
dashing high and dangerous upon the farther shore, and, for that night at
least, it was necessary to forego the project. The next day and the next
night were tempestous as well, and, through it all — the storm and darkness
at night, the storm and iron hail by day — the Americans labored upon their
defenses, so that, at last, when the wind fell and the sea was calm, Howe saw
that, to force his men up that steep ascent, in the face of such fearful odds,
would be no better than murder ; hence he decided upon evacuation, and
orders to that effect were promulgated. The city was at once the scene of
wildest confusion ; the lighter artillery, stores, and arms ; the sick and

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 87

wounded ; the wives and families of officers and soldiers ; the tories, their
families and household goods — all these were to be embarked. In addition
there was a great work of destruction performed ; such heavy ordnance as
could not be removed was dismounted, or otherwise rendered useless ;
orders were given to remove to the fleet all clothing, and cotton, and woolen
goods, which might be of value to the continental army, and, acting upon
these orders, shops and private dwellings were sacked, and even furniture
and pictures defaced and destroyed. Howe was determined not to make
capitulation, but he dropped hints to some patriotic citizens, that if the army
were allowed to embark unmolested, the city would be spared, but, other
wise, it would be burned behind them. This report reached Washington,
and, knowing that the sufferers by such a retaliation would be those of cer
tain sympathy with himself, he allowed the embarkation to proceed, hastened
to the point of absolute confusion by the erection of a battery on Nooks' hill,
accomplished in the face of a fierce cannonading, on the i6th of March.
At 4 o'clock, on the I7th of March, the troops and loyalist citizens began to
move aboard the seventy-eight vessels which lay in the harbor ; on the
same day a continental force entered the city, and, on the day following,
Washington himself made his informal entry.

Thus ended one of the most remarkable military episodes in the history
of the world. There have been more brilliant and showy achievements, but
none greater in the true sense of greatness. Washington was called to be
commander in chief of an army yet to be created from the heterogeneous
material called together by the emergencies at Concord and Lexington, and
lying before Boston with no allegiance save to their respective colonies, rec
ognizing no obligation to obey any but their own immediate officers, utterly
undisciplined as were the Parisian street mobs of '93, ill clothed, ill armed
and ill equipped. Coming as the representative of a new central power,
as yet but half recognized, and under the guns of a veteran army, skillful in
war, equipped with all of war's best appliances, he organized not one but
two armies ; he for months held the flower of the British army cooped, like
fowls, in Boston, when, at times, he had not ten thousand efficient men to
array against them, and on at least one occasion had not powder to fire a can
non, after filling the cartridge boxes of his men. Again and again a prompt
movement on the part of the British could not have failed of success, yet
that movement was never made, and in spite of discontent from within the
ranks, tardiness and lack of support in Congress, and criticism from without,
he finally took the initiative and compelled the British to slink away from
before his raw levies, without firing a shot or making a demonstration in
resistance.

Washington went to Philadelphia in response to the summons of Con
gress, to find himself subjected to troubles as annoying as any he had met
in the field. He had to overcome the conservative feeling which had not

88 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

yet learned to recognize as inevitable the separation of the colonies from the
mother country. He labored under every disadvantage in convincing Con
gress of the necessity of reforming its military policy and placing the
armies of the colonies upon an effective basis. His experience in the past
had proved the truth of the epigram, "More soldiers are killed by the
legislation of their friends than by the bullets of their enemies." He
did not mince matters in his consultations at Philadelphia; he declared
reconciliation to be a dangerous chimera; he quoted the action of the
British in subsidizing foreign troops — news of which course had lately been
received — as indicating a similar view on the part of Great Britain. He did
not go to Congress with the prestige of uniform success. As commander
in chief he was compelled to bear the burthen of all the military operations
of the country, and the later enterprises in Canada, under Thomas, had not
resulted much more fortunately than those under Montgomery. After
holding Carleton a prisoner in Quebec for more than five months, burning
the suburbs and battering the walls of the city, the Americans had been com
pelled by the arrival of reinforcements, and by a sortie of Carleton, to
retire to Point Deschamboult, sixty miles from Quebec, and await reinforce
ments. In the face of this disaster Washington succeeded in persuading
Congress to provide that soldiers be enlisted for two years, and that a bounty
often dollars be paid to every man so enlisting; that the army at New York,
pending the carrying out of this arrangement, should be reinforced until the
1st of December, by a force of thirteen thousand eight hundred militia; that
fire ships be constructed to prevent the entry of the British fleet into the
harbor of New York, and that a flying camp of ten thousand troops be
stationed in New Jersey for the protection of the middle colonies. In addi
tion, Washington was given authority to call upon the militia of the adjacent
colonies, in case of emergency.

Hitherto, the prosecution of the war had been clumsily and inade
quately provided for, by the reference of war questions to various commit
tees. The commander now urged the organization of a war department,
and, as a consequence, was established a Board of War and Ordnance, con
sisting of five members, whose duties began January I2th. In the mean
time Virginia had formulated the public opinion of the country by declaring
in favor of independence. This movement, coming from his own colony,
received the warmest commendation of Washington. The "spasm of com
mon sense" which seized the Congress and resulted in all these enactments
looking to the reform of the army, did not result in bringing about the final
and most effective legislation until June of the year 1776. Had it come
sooner its effect would have been vastly greater. The first enthusiasm of
the war had passed away in the face of the hardships and privations of the
service. Men who were ready at the outset to rush to arms with no ques
tion of pay% were not now to be tempted by the offered bounty, and

FIRST CANADIAN CAMPAIGN EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 89

recruits came but slowly. Then, too, the announcement came too late to
be efficient in the impending campaign. Had Congress authorized long
enlistment and an offer of bounty in March, or even April, the disasters
which overtook the army at New York and on the Hudson might instead
have been victories; the British troops might have been defeated and driven
to their ships, or at least placed upon the defensive, and the whole com
plexion of the war changed.

The first legislative embodiment of the idea of independence was in
the famous resolution offered in the Continental Congress by Richard
Henry Lee. Its import did not materially differ from that of the final dec
laration, but it served to place the question in form for a debate. The peo
ple at large were ripe for it; its discussion had been constant for weeks, and
the old-time obstinate loyalty to the crown was a thing of the past. Dur
ing the Congress, provision had been made for the establishment of definite
colonial government, with powers constitutionally stated and limited, in
every colony save Connecticut and Rhode Island, which were deemed already
sufficiently organized. Lee's resolution was offered on the 7th of June, and
embodied the declaration that "these United States are, and of right ought
to be free and independent States ; that all political ties between them and
the State of Great Britain is and ought to be totally dissolved." The resolu
tion was seconded by John Adams, and came up for discussion in the commit
tee of the whole, on the 8th and loth of June. It was found during this dis
cussion that the delegates for New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Dela
ware, Maryland, and South Carolina, while many of them personally favored
the resolution, lacked the instructions of their constituents on the subject,
or were affirmatively directed to oppose such a measure, and the debate
was held over until the first day of July. In the meantime a committee
was appointed to prepare a draft of a declaration of independence. Upon
this committee was the young statesman, Thomas Jefferson, and, Lee being
called to Virginia, the preparing of the draft fell to his lot. It may be well
to say, at this point, that, though there have been periodical discussions in
which it has been urged that Jefferson was not the author of the declaration,
there is no question that, though he made use of his historical knowledge,
and of the advice of his friends, to him belongs the credit of the framing
of that splendid document. The draft was submitted on the 28th of June,
but was laid upon the table to await the re-opening of the debate. On the
1st day of July the discussion was re-opened, and the resolution came to a
vote on the evening of the same day. It received the affirmative votes of
New Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey,
Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia, against Pennsylvania and
South Carolina. Delaware was divided, and the delegates of New York,
though some expressed individual approval of the resolution, requested to
be excused from voting, on the ground of lack of instruction. Mr. Rut-

gO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

ledge, of South Carolina, believed that the vote of his colleagues would be
changed, and, at his request, the report was postponed until Saturday, the 2d,
when South Carolina wheeled into the affirmative line, as did Delaware and
Pennsylvania ; and thus the resolution was carried unanimously by all voting
delegations. On that Saturday evening John Adams wrote : ' ' The 2d of July
will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to
believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anni
versary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by
solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized by
pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illu
minations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forth
forevermore. " Adams well foresaw the regard in which the grand act of the
Congress would ever be held ; he was only wrong as to the day of celebra
tion. On Monday, Congress discussed the proposed declaration with closed
doors, throngs without anxiously awaiting the report of the result. Finally
the bell in the tower of the hall rang out a glad peal, and all within sound
of its tidings knew that America had at last declared her freedom from for
eign rule. News traveled but slowly in those days, but, with all haste, the
report of the action of Congress was circulated throughout the colonies.
In New England it was generally approved. In New York, and to the south
ward, a majority hailed the news with gladness, while a considerable minor
ity held such a declaration to be unwise, and many considered its adoption a
moral wrong. The tories, everywhere, held up their hands in horror. The
ruin of America they deemed irrevocably assured. Weak-kneed colonists
who had before professed devotion to the patriot cause, found in the declara
tion an excuse for cutting loose from their allegiance, and thus, while there
was no loss of any valuable class or element, the patriots were the better for
the drainage of impurities which would doubtless have tended to the injury
of their cause. The news of the declaration came to Washington on the
9th of July and, at 6 o'clock of the same evening, he caused it to be read at
the head of every brigade of his army, accompanied by an expression from
him, of which the following is a portion: "The General hopes that this
important event will serve as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to
act with fidelity and courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of
his country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms, and that
he is now in the service of a state possessed of sufficient power to reward
his merit, and advance him to the highest honors of a free country." New
York city, always subject to great excitement, went fairly wild over the
news, and, in an excess of enthusiasm, which it is now easy to pardon,
overturned a leaden statue of George III., which stood in the city, broke it
into small fragments, and, with strict poetic justice, the remains of the
royal effigy were melted into bullets.

1HE OCCUPATION OF NEW YORK.

CHAPTER XII.

THE OCCUPATION OF NEW YORK.

HP* HE evacuation of Boston was a bitter lesson to the British. The
duke of Manchester, in the House of Lords, embodied in a few
caustic words, his estimate of the achievement. He said: "The army ot
Britain, equipped with every possible essential of war; a chosen army with
chosen officers, backed by the power of a mighty fleet, sent to correct
revolted subjects ; sent to chastise a resisting city ; sent to assert Britain's
authority ; — has for many tedious months been imprisoned within that town
by the provincial army, who, with their watchful guard, permitted them no
inlet to the country ; who braved all their efforts and defied all that skill
and ability in war could ever attempt. One way, indeed, of escape was left;
the fleet is still respected ; to the fleet the army has recourse ; and British
generals, whose names never met with a blot of dishonor, are forced to quit
that town, which was the first object of the war, the immediate cause of
hostilities, the place of arms, which it has cost this nation more than a
million to defend."

John Adams moved, and Congress adopted, a vote of thanks to Wash
ington, and a commemorative gold medal was struck off, bearing upon its
face the head and name of the commander, as the deliverer of Boston.

When General Howe sailed from Boston harbor he directed his course
for Halifax, there to await the coming of his brother, Admiral Lord Wil
liam Howe, who had been assigned to the naval command in America, and
whose coming, with reinforcements for both fleet and army, was daily
expected. He did not proclaim his intentions, and Washington was far
from certain as to what the next manifestations of his military sagacity might
be. One of two movements, however, seemed much more probable than any
others; either he would direct his attention to the relief of Montreal, Que
bec, and the St. Lawrence frontier, or he would move against New York
city. The weight of probability seemed in favor of the latter plan, and

p2 GEORGE WASHINGTON,

Washington determined to turn his attention to placing that city and its
environs in a state admitting of defense, by carrying out the plan of fortifi
cation originated by Lee. The latter officer had been relieved from com
mand at New York to be sent to Canada (a service which he never under
took), and now Putnam was placed in charge of the garrison of the city,
with instructions to push the work of fortification with all possible rapidity.
Lee had believed, or affected to believe, that upon his removal from New
York, that city would fall into its old condition of tory ascendency, and
that the cause of the colonies would suffer. His fear was groundless, for
Putnam, while he was not so much given to talking as was Lee, was fully as
efficient a disciplinarian. Under his direction, the communication between
the tories on shore and Governor Tryon and the British on the fleet, was
for the first time, substantially, if not actually, cut off The troops were
held to the most exact behavior, and, after a given hour at night, civilians
of the city were not allowed abroad unless furnished with the countersign.
Probably few cities were ever so orderly during a military occupation.

Lee's plan of defense requires to be briefly explained, that the later
movements about the island may be better understood. It contemplated
the erection of a strong redoubt commanding the pass of Hell Gate, that
communication between Long Island and the main land might be cut off;
the secure fortification of King's bridge, and the enlarging and better arm
ing of the two forts already commanding the highlands of the Hudson.
The force under Putnam, increased by Connecticut and New Jersey militia,
began the prosecution of this defensive work. So soon as the British fleet
had actually deserted the vicinity of Boston, Washington ordered all of his
army, save a sufficient garrison for the recaptured city, to march to New
York, and, himself preceding them to that city, took personal charge of
the work.

He had not been long in his new field before he was summoned by
Congress to Philadelphia. The importance of the military movement pro
jected, the necessity of raising a large additional force, for service in the
three campaigns of Canada, New York, and the South, the division of senti
ment, in and out of Congress, on the subject of the war — all these called
for a degree of decision and wisdom which the Continental Congress seemed
to lack. The transition stage in the opinion of the colonies had come.
The last desire for reconciliation was fast giving way to the dawning
spirit of independence. The absurdity of retaining a formal allegiance to a
king, while in open war against him, had begun to force itself upon the
people. With this determination came the obvious necessity of making
provision for the war, not as a matter of weeks, but as a serious contest,
never to end save with decisive results. Half way reform measures had
failed of effect. The former system of enlisting men for one year and thus
allowing the army to annually fall to pieces about the ears of its commanders,

OCCUPATION OF NEW YORK.

was so obviously mistaken as to lead Congress to look for means of remedy.
During the month of June a woman came to Washington's headquarters
at New York and desired to speak with the commander privately. This
request was readily granted, whereupon she warned him that his life was
in danger by reason of a plot then ripening among the tories, to assas
sinate him and as many of the other general officers as possible, imme
diately upon the arrival of the British in the harbor. The assassination was
to be followed by a general uprising of so-called loyalists, who were to put
off in boats to join the British army. The account given was so straight
forward and honest in its appearance as to invite belief, and an investigation
was at once begun. The result was to expose an organized conspiracy, con
trived and directed by Tryon, from the security of a British man-of-war.
With the assistance of his friends on shore he had perfected an organization
of tories, extending throughout New York city, to a considerable distance up
the Hudson, and into New Jersey. It reached all classes of society, includ
ing the mayor and many leading merchants of the city, and even embraced
some members of the life guard of the commander. It was a pot-house con
spiracy, involving the keepers of many houses of entertainment. The pub
licans were themselves active participants in the plot, and lent their houses
as meeting places for the traitors. Tryon had made David Matthews, the
tory mayor, his principal agent for organizing a tory contingent, offering
bounties, and corrupting Washington's soldiers. Matthews lived at Hat-
bush, on Long Island. In pursuance of orders a detachment from Greene's
brigade surrounded the house an hour after midnight of the 2ist of June, and
placed the mayor under arrest ; there were, however, no papers of impor
tance found in the house. Other arrests followed as rapidly and quietly,
until a panic seized the whole tory population of the city. Irving thus
sums up the facts discovered in the examination of the prisoners: "Five
guineas bounty was offered by Governor Tryon to each man who should
enter the King's service, with a promise of two hundred acres of land for
himself, one hundred for his wife, and fifty for each child. The men thus
recruited were to act on shore, in co-operation with the King's troops when
they came. Corbie's tavern, near Washington's headquarters, was a kind of
rendezvous of the conspirators. There one Gilbert Forbes, a gunsmith, a
'short, thick-set man, with a white coat,' enlisted men, gave them money,
and swore them on the book to secrecy. From this house a correspondence
vas kept up with Governor Tryon, on shipboard, through a ' mulatto-colored
negro dressed in blue clothes.' At this tavern, it was supposed, Washing
ton's body-guards were tampered with. Thomas Hickey, one of the guards,
a dark complexioned man, five feet six inches high, and well set, was said
not only to have enlisted but to have aided in corrupting his comrades,
among others, Greene the drummer and Johnson the fifer." Washington
turned the civilians over to the authorities of the colonies, only dealing him-

Q4 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

self with the life-guard, Hickey. Him he directed to be tried by court-
martial, and this trial having resulted in conviction, the culprit was executed
in the presence of the entire army, save the portion actually on duty at the
time. The fate of Hickey and the peril of his fellow conspirators so effectu
ally paralyzed the remaining tories, that for the time they were silenced and
frightened into good behavior.

The anxious expectation of the appearance of a British force before
New York was soon realized. On the 29th of June came news from the
Staten Island lookout that forty sail were in sight. This was the fleet and
army of General Sir William Howe, recently compelled to evacuate Boston,
strengthened by six transports of Highland troops, encountered at sea. The
original body then consisted of between nine thousand and ten thousand
men, and the whole fleet stood toward the harbor, four ships of war being
in advance. In one of these, the Grayhound, was General Howe, who
at once entered into a conference with Governor Tryon. Washington
redoubled the rigor of his discipline, sent committees to adjacent colonies
calling for reserves, notified the Clintons, in command of the forts upon the
Hudson, to beware of an ascent of the river, and then awaited develop
ments. These were not slow in coming. Upon the 4th of July, the very
day of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, the first troops were
landed by the British, Staten Island being selected for the debarkation. On
the 1 2th of the same month a hundred spy-glasses caught the gleam from
canvass in the offing, and several more vessels stood in and cast anchor with
the already large fleet. On the same day two vessels of war, the Phoenix of
forty and the Rose of twenty guns, weighed anchor, moved toward and passed
the city, without serious damage from the batteries, and proceeded up the
Hudson. Washington sent expresses warning General George Clinton, and
urging him to strengthen the garrisons at Forts Constitution and Montgom
ery, and to collect a sufficient force to protect the Highlands against the
invaders. Even before the message came, the people were up in arms, cattle
were driven back from the river, and every point and bluff along the bank
was a cover for sharp-shooters, who galled the vessels and picked off men
from every boat's crew detached. The chief aim of the expedition was to
make soundings in the channel and prepare the way for an aggressive move
ment ; hence the ships never attacked the upper forts, nor proceeded far
enough to come within range of them, but after a prolonged stay returned
on the 1 8th of August, just in time to escape through a gap in a line of
ckevaux-de-frise, stretched by Putnam from Fort Washington to the west
bank of the river, which gap would have been hopelessly closed in a day
or two. In the meantime vessels of war and transports continued to
arrive with regiment after regiment of troops — Highlanders and Hessians.
Early in August Sir Henry Clinton's squadron, with Lord Cornwailts. and
three thousand troops, dropped down upon New York, fresh from the

THE OCCUPATION OF NEW YORK. 95

humiliating defeat at Fort Moultrie. The position of Washington and the
army of New York was indeed a most critical one. The enemy had a
splendidly organized, disciplined and equipped force of thirty thousand men;
to convey these from point to point he had a sufficient number of transports,
and to cover and co-operate with his land force, a splendid and heavily
armed fleet. Then, too, Washington had been compelled by circumstances
to adopt a most disadvantageous point for defense against such a force,
ork Island, with the bay below it, the Hudson stretching along its western
side, and giving a water way to the interior; the Sound to the eastward,
giving naval access upon that side ; he was in a position where he could only
watch and wait, trusting that when the enemy did strike, it might be in his
power to parry the blow. It does not need much military knowledge to
see in the light of events that, with the choice of position and so great a
land and naval force against him, a successful defense of such an exposed
situation was impossible. Against the force of the British Washington had
only about eleven thousand men actually effective. These were largely
militia and the hasty levies furnished by Congress for service until December I,
1777. Many, perhaps most of them, had never been under fire ; nearly
all sadly lacked discipline, and none of them could compare with the
commonest British regiment in point of equipment. In a letter written to Con
gress on the 8th of August, in which the conditions of the contest are stated,
Washington said: "These things are melancholy, but they are, never
theless, true. I hope for better. Under every disadvantage, my utmost
exertions shall be employed to bring about the great end we have in view;
and, so far as I can judge from the professions and apparent dispositions of
my troops, I shall have their support. The superiority of the enemy and
their expected attack do not seem to have depressed their spirits. These
considerations lead me to think that, though the appeal may not terminate
so happily as I could wish, yet the enemy will not succeed in their views
without considerable loss. Any advantage they may gain I trust will cost
them dear." It will be seen from this extract that Washington had little
hope for the event ; his calmness and fortitude are, by so much, the more
wonderful, and it was this happy self equipoise of the commander that saved
the colonial army from annihilation.

During the last few days devoted to preparation for the coming battle,
Washington was annoyed by the utterly unnecessary and gratuitous quar
rels and jealousies of his own officers. Gates had been appointed, in terms,
to the command in Canada ; Schuyler was in command in Northern New
York. Gates was compelled to retire to the southward of the border and
still claimed authority ; Schuyler held that Gates, being named only to the
command in Canada, had no authority in New York, and must report to
him. After much vexation and unseemly discussion, it was arranged that
the two generals should hold command of the army, Schuyler when it was

9t> GEORGE WASHINGTON.

in New York ; Gates when it was in Canada. To such ridiculous expedk
ents was Congress driven.

At the same time, sectional and class jealousies were seriously threat
ening the efficiency of the army at New York. The troops which had
served at Boston and elsewhere, had already come to consider themselves as
regulars, and to regard with supercilious contempt the militia and the irreg
ular levies which the emergency had called into action. Then, too, the
troops of the South looked with ill concealed derision upon the New Eng
land yeomanry, who, coming directly from the labor of their farms, dressed
in homespun, and equipped in most various style, were far inferior in appear
ance to their own forces. Washington was more than annoyed — he was
alarmed at this lack of unity among his men. In personal conversation
with the general officers of his army, he continually dwelt upon the neces
sity of harmony ; in his orders to his troops he held up the common cause
for which they were fighting, and adjured them to allow no petty pique or
jealousy to come between them and the efficiency of their organization.
The fruitful cause of all this discontent and lack of harmony, was the
long period of inaction through which the army had passed, and the com
mander, regarding the coming battle as inevitable, and having completec1
his preparations, had no desire to delay the issue.

THE BATTLE AVD EVACUATION' OF LONG ISLAND.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND.

ABOUT the 1st of August Washington's force was augmented by the
arrival of Smallwood's regiment, two Pennsylvania regiments and a
body of New York and New England militia. This left his total numerical
strength twenty-seven thousand men, of whom one-fourth were sick. The
effective force was widely divided, as the nature of the ground compelled. A
considerable force was stationed on Long Island, under General Sullivan; a
large part of the remainder was distributed among the various stations
upon York Island; a small detachment was placed on Governor's Island,
and another at Paulus hook. A body of New York militia under General
Clinton, lay on the sound near New Rochelle, and about East and West
Chester, prepared to oppose any movement of the enemy to isolate the
American army by landing above King's bridge.

Washington estimated very highly the importance of the coming battle,
in its bearing upon the spirit of his men and the feeling of the American
people; his words are full of encouragement to his soldiers and appeals to
their patriotism and bravery. Addressing them in his order of August 2d,
he says: "The time is now near at hand which, must determine whether
Americans are to be freemen or slaves ; whether they are to have any prop
erty they can call their own ; whether their houses and farms are to be
pillaged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretched
ness from which no human efforts can deliver them. The fate of unborn
millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this
army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a
brave resistance or a most abject submission. We have, therefore, to
resolve to conquer or die. Our own, our country's honor, call upon us for
a vigorous and manly exertion ; and, if we now shamefully fail, we shall
become infamous to the whole world. Let us, then, rely on the goodness
of our cause and the aid of the Supreme Being, in whose hands victory is,

c\S GEORGE WASHINGTON.

to animate and encourage us to great and noble actions. The eyes of all
our countrymen are now upon us, and we shall have their blessings and
praises, if happily we are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny
meditated against them. Let us therefore animate and encourage each
other, and show the whole world that a freeman, contending for liberty on
his own ground, is superior to any slavish mercenary on earth." This was
Washington's appeal ; for those who did their duty well and unflinchingly,
he promised recognition and promotion, at the same time giving distinct
orders that any soldier who skulked, attempted to conceal himself, or
retreated without orders, should be instantly shot down.

One of the first steps toward the defense of the American position had
been the stationing of a brigade of troops at Brooklyn, Long Island. The
then village stood upon a peninsula, skirted by the East river, the bay, and
Gowanus cove. General Greene had prepared for the protection of this
point, by planting batteries on the water front, on Red Hook, and on Gov
ernor's Island, and others upon the East river, presenting really formidable
obstacles to a naval attack. The camp faced to the landward, and before it,
from the river to the Gowanus marsh, extended a line of strong and well-
armed earthworks. In front of the works and at some distance was a
range of hills, nearly the length of the Island and crossed by three different
roads. These hills presented a difficult, but by no means impassable
barrier, save by one of the three roads. Correctly judging that the enemy
would be likely to make his first movement against Long Island, Sullivan
was strongly reinforced. Early on the morning of August 22d, General
Clinton landed the main body of the British troops under cover of the fleet,
his line extending, according to his own statement, from the ferry at the
narrows, through Utrecht and Gravesend, to the village of Flatland. Put
nam was assigned to the command of Long Island, and repaired to the
camp with a reinforcement of six regiments, greatly rejoicing at the pros
pect of escape from garrison duty, and the hope of active service. Wash
ington directed him to guard the heights and woods between his own and
the hostile camp with his best troops.

The relative positions of the two armies is thus described in Marshall's
Life of Washington : "The Hessians, under General De Heister, composed
the center of the British army at Flatbush; Major-general Grant com
manded the left wing, which extended to the coast, and the greater part of
the British forces, under General Clinton, Earl Percy, and Lord Cornwallis,
turned short to the right and approached the opposite coast of Flatland.
The two armies were now separated by the range of hills already mentioned.
The British center at Flatbush was scarcely four miles distant from the
American lines at Brooklyn ; and a direct road led across the heights from
one to the other. Another road, rather more circuitous than the first, led
from Flatbush by way of Bedford, a small village on the Brooklyn side of

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. 99

the hills. The right and left wings of the British army were nearly equi
distant from the American works, and about five or six miles from them.
The road leading from the Narrows along the coast, and by way of Gowanus
cove, afforded the most direct route to their left ; and their right might either
return by way of Flatbush, unite with their center, or take a more circuitous
course and enter a road leading from Jamaica to Bedford. These several
roads unite between Bedford and Brooklyn, a short distance in front of the
American lines."

The Americans had defended the direct road from Brooklyn to Jamaica
by the construction of a fort. The remaining roads were held by detach
ments, placed at the summit and within view of the British camp. The
main road was also patrolled by bodies of volunteers, and a regiment of
Pennsylvania riflemen lay in the vicinity awaiting service. The first offensive
movement of the campaign was made about 9 o'clock on the night of the
27th. General Clinton had been told, by some of his tory friends, of the
existence of a pass in the hills about three miles east of Bedford, and, at the
time named, silently moved the van of the British army to effect its capture.
Almost simultaneously General Grant advanced the British left, supported
by artillery, along the coast road. His chief object was to make a diversion,
hence his movement was open, and skirmishing was constant. Putnam rein
forced the troops in Grant's front, and, this reinforcement not proving suffi
cient, a second detachment of two regiments under Brigadier-general Lord
Stirling was ordered to advance to their support. The defense of the two
other roads was also strengthened. So successful was the ruse of Grant,
that Clinton, two hours before daybreak, surprised and captured one of the
American parties stationed on the road, learned from them that he need fear
no opposition in securing the pass, and at daybreak marched his entire
column through the unguarded way and descended upon the level plain
before the American works.

Stirling and Grant met at the summit of the hill, and an active can
nonade was opened, but as the American orders were simply to hold the
road, and, as Grant only desired to cover Clinton's movement, he made no
effort to force the position of Stirling. In the center General De Heister
opened a brisk cannonading of the redoubt upon the direct road and the
troops under the immediate command of General Sullivan, but, he also,
desiring to await the success of Clinton's venture, did not leave his position
at Flatbush for some time after the collision occurred. At the same
time all the British fleet had made repeated efforts to come up from the
bay to co-operate with the land forces, but had been baffled by adverse
wind, one vessel only, and that of inferior armament, reaching a point
which permitted its cannonading the battery at Red Hook. While these
three separate cannonades were in progress, Clinton was marching unmo
lested to the rear of Sullivan's left, at last reaching Bedford. General De

IOO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Heister, apprised of the successful passage of the hills and correctly judg
ing of Clinton's position, then ordered the advance of a corps to the attack
of the position held by Sullivan, himself following with the main force of the
center. This was about half-past eight in the morning. Almost simultane
ously the Americans discovered the presence of Clinton in their rear, and at
once began retreat, in the hope of regaining the works at Brooklyn. As
the regiments emerged from the woods they met the British right. A skir
mish ensued, the Americans were driven back. Clinton then pushed on,
and, reaching the main road, intercepted the retreat of the force under the
immediate command of Sullivan, which, hearing the firing at Bedford, had
been ordered to fall back, after meeting the first charge of De Heister and
his Hessians. De Heister being unopposed was enabled to detach a portion
of his troops to the assistance of the British at Bedford, and the Ameri
cans of both bodies were then in practically the same situation. Both
were driven back by Clinton's advance, only to meet the Hessian force.
The second encounter compelled a recoil upon Clinton's front, and thus,
hemmed in between two forces, fighting desperately yet hopelessly, first with
one then with the other, the left wing and the immediate force of General Sulli
van was cut to pieces. A few succeeded in regaining the lines at Brooklyn,
some individuals escaped through the woods, but nearly all were killed or
captured. A mingled force of British and Hessians pursued the fugitives
to the very works before Brooklyn, and only the peremptory commands of
their officers restrained them from an immediate assault.

Lord Stirling was still holding Grant, when the firing at Bedford
apprised him of the necessity of at once securing his retreat to the works.
In order to accomplish this, it became necessary to attack a corps of British
under command of Lord Cornwallis, which was so stationed as to interfere
with his re-crossing the creek. For this purpose four hundred of Small-
wood's regiment were detached and made a desperately brave and well nigh
successful effort to dislodge the enemy, but were thwarted by the arrival of
British reinforcements. Under cover of this attack, a large part of Stirling's
command made good its retreat; the survivors of Smallwood's regiment and
Stirling himself were taken prisoners.

The number of Americans engaged upon the heights was not far from
five thousand ; the British force being much greater. No accurate account
of the loss on the colonial side has ever been obtained. Fully one thou
sand regulars were killed, wounded, or captured, besides a probably equal
number of militia. Three general officers— Generals Stirling, Sullivan,
and Woodhull were among the prisoners. General Howe places the total
American loss at three thousand three hundred — doubtless excessive — and
that of the British at twenty-one officers and three hundred and forty-six
privates, killed, wounded, and captured.

During the entire engagement, the city of New York was in an agony

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. IOI

of fear. The firing at early morning had told that the long anticipated bat
tle was begun, but what its fortunes or what its ultimate object, no man
knew. Washington was himself in the city. He did not appreciate the
full strength of the British upon Long Island, as a large proportion of the
force had made a secret night landing. He was in doubt whether the attack
upon the American position upon Long Island was not, in fact, only pre
liminary to a movement against the city. This fear found some reason, in
the attempt of British war vessels to beat up to the neighborhood of Red
Hook, to which reference has been made. Hence, the commander in chief
remained in New York, until the heavy firing of artillery and small arms,
from the three separate battles beyond Brooklyn, told him that the affair
was most serious; then he embarked in his barge, crossed over, and, from a
commanding point within the lines was enabled, by the aid of his glass, to
watch the movements of both parties, over the entire [field. He at once
saw the certain fate of the left — in fact, the catastrophe was even then almost
complete — and his anxiety for Lord Stirling, on the right, was most intense.
Stirling's circuitous retreat was soon commenced, and Washington could
see, as Stirling could not, the movement of Cornwallis to the rear of the
latter, and felt assured that the whole of that wing must fall without striking
a blow. The heroic attempt of Smalhvood and his handful of Marylanders
to dislodge Cornwallis, filled him at once with admiration and sorrow, and
he exclaimed, wringing his hands: "Good God! what brave fellows I must
this day lose." As the flying fragments of what had been his best troops
came panting to the works, closely pursued by their victorious enemies,
Washington found enough to do to prepare for holding his defenses, occu
pied almost exclusively by militia, against threatened assault. It is prob
able, indeed, that such an assault would have been made, but for a timely
discharge of musketry and grape from the works. The pursuit, however,
ended there ; the day's work was done, and nightfall found the British
encamped about a mile before the American lines, with their sentries but
one-fourth of that distance away.

Had the blow struck the continental army that day, been but a little
stronger, and had the consummate leadership which withdrew the shattered
force safely from the jaws of destruction, been lacking, the cause of liberty in
America would have been almost beyond hope, and the reputation of Wash
ington, as a commander, must have gone with it. Even as it proved, Washing
ton has been more criticized by reason of this disaster, than for any other
incident of a long and bloody war. The first basis of this criticism is his occu
pation of New York. Many eminent military authorities have declared the
position untenable by a purely land force, acting against a co-operating army
and navy. There are, however, two sides to this question. The strategic
importance of the Hudson and the northern lakes, has already been dis
cussed in these pages. Washington felt that the possession of the Hudson

IO2 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

was of such vital importance as to warrant a great risk. In holding New
York, rather than in concentrating at a higher point upon the river, he had
a double purpose — first to insure the dependence of the British army upon
the fleet for supplies — and to prevent, if possible, their gaining a foothold
and a land base for operations to the northward ; and second, to prevent the
thousands of tories of New York and adjacent colonies, from having a
secure rendezvous for movements against him. This consideration was by
no means a light one. The force of the British was certain, in any event,
to be fully as great as Washington could cope with. Give it an assured and
permanent foothold, and not only would its ranks be largely reinforced by
organized loyalists, but all the country about would be stripped for subsist
ence, and harried by guerrilla warfare, while his own poorly equipped force
might be reduced by isolation and want Then, too, the impossibility of
defending New York is much more obvious in the light of experience than
as a matter of theory. The possession of heavier cannon ; the organization
of such an army as he had reason to expect when his policy was adopted ;
the exercise of greater vigilance on the part of his subordinate officers, might
have made a very radical change in the result of the campaign. The
catastrophe on Long Island cannot be justly charged to Washington. Had
his orders been carried out, the result would probably have been far
different. He expressly charged Putnam to use his best force for the
defense of the woods. Though the best force of the army had unquestion
ably been dispatched to the heights, it had not been so disposed as to give
any secure defense. The Bedford pass had been left exposed, and, by reason
of such neglect, came the whole disaster of the day. The defeat ought not,
either, to rest as a cloud upon the reputation of the gallant Putnam. The
defense of Long Island had been first committed to General Greene.
Greene had fully mastered the situation and laid his own plans, when he was
taken sick, and Sullivan was placed in command. At that time there was
no more reason for supposing that Brooklyn would be the object of the
enemy's attack, than for expecting him to assail any one of numerous other
points. At last, almost immediately before the battle, Putnam was sent
over from New York, and assumed command. He had not time or oppor
tunity to master the minute peculiarities of the ground ; he had no cavalry
to use as videttes — and hence came the catastrophe, which was rather a
misfortune, arising from circumstances, than the fault of any individual.

The night after the battle was a sleepless one in the American camp.
Washington made the rounds of the works, encouraging the weary and dis
pirited troops, and vigilantly watching for any movement on the part of the
enemy. The morning showed the whole British force encamped upon the
level between the heights and the American lines. General Mercer arrived
during the day with reinforcements from the flying camp at Amboy, from
King's bridge, and Fort Washington, and a regiment, formed in the Massa-

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. 1 03

chusetts fishing villages of the amphibious men peculiar to that coast.
There were not more than one thousand three hundred men in all, but they
were very welcome and gave new confidence to every one. The British
must have greatly overestimated Washington's force and the strength of his
defenses, for they made no motion to attack him. There was some light
skirmishing during the day, but, for the most part, the enemy kept his
tents, only emerging near nightfall, to begin intrenching close to the Amer
ican lines, as if determined to force them by regular approaches. The fol
lowing day was densely foggy. Washington had well nigh determined that
his position was untenable, when Adjutant-general Reed and another officer,
who had ridden to the neighborhood of Red hook, dashed up to head
quarters with the report that, the wind having for a moment raised the fog,
they had seen signs of the greatest activity about the British fleet. Boats
were hurrying back and forth with orders, and everything indicated a speedy
naval movement. No one could doubt the destination of the fleet — it was
the East river, and, once there, the patriot army, with enemies in front and
in the rear, would be helpless. Washington's resolve was taken at once.
He must retire to New York that night, and secretly. He sent out parties
to impress every craft capable of carrying a man, from Tarry town to Hell
gate. This order was carried out with the energy and success which offset
so many of the disadvantages of the American army, and by 8 o'clock in the
evening there was assembled at Brooklyn as motley a fleet as ever gathered
for service.

To prepare for this important movement, without endangering its
secrecy, orders were given to all the men to be prepared for a night attack.
Weary, defeated, many of them sick and suffering, their arms wet and often
useless, they heard the orders with surprise, yet unhesitatingly prepared to
obey. General Mifflin was ordered to keep his men at the works until the
last — posting his sentries and maintaining the routine, that the British might
suspect nothing, for discovery meant the destruction of the army and the
hopes of the colonies. The movement began. Washington himself stood
at the ferry and hastened the embarkation. Everything was done so silently
that the mattocks and spades of the British, working upon their defenses,
could be plainly heard. Suddenly there rang out, doubly loud and frightful
in the stillness of the night, the roar of a cannon. Whence did it come —
From British or American works? What did it mean — discovery? Men
grasped their pieces for defense, while their hearts stood still with drc:\:..
But there came no answering roar, no bugle or drum called the sleepers to
arms ; the British workers still plied their tools ; the hostile soldiers turned
in their blankets for another nap. No one ever learned whence came the re
port. Perhaps there was a traitor in the camp, who sought thus to convey
a warning to the British lines ; perhaps a careless hand, in spiking a great

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

gun, had discharged it. Accident or design, it did no harm, and the few
lines of retreating soldiers had yet a chance.

Still another peril menaced the movement ; Washington, impatient of
what seemed to him needless delay, sent an aide-de-camp to hasten the next
detachment. The messenger stupidly included Mifflin's command in his
orders ; sentries were withdrawn, the works deserted, and, long ere the
proper time had come, Mifflin and his men were at the place of embarka
tion.

' ' Good God ! General Mifflin, I am afraid you have ruined us by so
unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the lines," exclaimed Washing
ton.

" I did so by your order," answered Mifflin.

" It cannot l>e," cried Washington.

"By God, I did. Did Scammel act as aide-de-camp for the day, or
did he not ? "

"He did."

"Then I had orders through him."

"It is a dreadful mistake," rejoined Washington, "and, unless the
troops can again regain the lines before their absence is discovered by the
enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be apprehended."

Mifflin led his men back to their posts, and there they remained until
came their turn to cross the river. This going back to a post of supreme
danger, having once relinquished it with the hope of safety before them,
marks the act as one of the most heroic of the war. At last, just as morning-
was breaking, these gallant men as well embarked, and the astounded British,
awaking to find the works deserted, reached the bank of the great river just
in time to see the last boats pass beyond range of their guns, and to capture,
as their sole prize, two wretches who had lingered for the sake of plunder.
Thus not only the American army, its sick and wounded, escaped from cer
tain death or capture to a place of temporary safety, but with them they
bore their arms, supplies, wagons, horses, and all but their heaviest guns.
This was done in the face of an enemy not five hundred yards distant, across
a broad arm of the sea, with no better means of carriage than small sailing
craft, smacks, and rowing boats. The exploit is one of the most remarkable
in military history, and at once fixed Washington's reputation as a general,
both at home and abroad. WTith all his skill and address, and the splendid
co-operation of his troops, the retreat could never have been accomplished
but for the fog;, the darkness, and the glassy stillness of the water. The
night was not a moment too long, and had not the Providential favor of
nature been extended, some, if not all, of the devoted little army must have
been cut off and lost.

The perplexities of the commander were still far from past. The retreat
to New York was but a forlorn device, and the straits of the army still

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. 1 05

seemed desperate enough. Washington in writing to Congress, under date
of September 2d, said: " Our situation is truly distressing. The check our
detachment sustained on the 2/th ultimo, has dispirited too great a propor
tion of our troops, and filled their minds with apprehension and despair.
The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly
opposition, in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and
impatient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off; in some instances
almost by whole regiments; in many, half ones, and by companies at a time.
This circumstance of itself, independent of others, when fronted by a well-
appointed enemy, superior in number to our whole collected force, would be
sufficiently disagreeable ; but, when it is added that their example has affected
another part of the army; that their want of discipline and refusal of almost
every kind of restraint and government, have rendered a like conduct but
too common in the whole ; and have produced an entire disregard of that
order and subordination necessary for the well-doing of an army, which
had been before inculcated as well as the nature of our military establish
ment would admit of, our condition is still more alarming and, with the
deepest concern, I am obliged to confess my want of confidence in the gen
erality of the troops. " This letter gives the best possible picture of the
internal difficulties which complicated the position, at the most critical time
in the prosecution of the war.

The first step taken by Lord Howe after the battle of Long Island,
was to follow up his advantage with overtures for a peace conference — with
which duty he had been charged by the home government. To this end
he released General Sullivan upon parole and sent him with a message to
Congress. This communication stated his authority to treat for an adjust
ment of differences, but said that he could not confer with Congress as
a recognized body. He asked, however, that a committee from its
membership be appointed, and said that he would meet them as prom
inent citizens of the colonies, and that if an arrangement of the trouble
should result, the ratification of Congress should be accepted as sufficient.
Congress was placed in an embarrassing position by this proposal. It could
not be literally accepted without derogating from the dignity of the body
nor could it be unconditionally rejected, without great danger of offending
some very good Whigs who still believed reconciliation to be both possible
and desirable. After due consideration, Congress sent an answer to Lord
Howe, to the effect that it could not consistently send its committee as indi
viduals, but would accredit to him a committee of Congress, to ascertain
what were his powers in the premises. John Adams, Edward Rutledge,
and Benjamin Franklin were appointed such committee, and met Lord
Howe at his house on Staten island, opposite Amboy. The conference
was most courteously conducted on both sides and was not long, as it
was soon discovered that Lord Howe did not possess extraordinary pow-

IO6 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

ers, and could only propose terms which involved the submission of the
colonies, without any better pledge of the redress of grievances than the
most general professions afforded. Hence the lord admiral and the very
republican committee parted as they had met, very courteously, but with
nothing gained, save the knowledge that an honorable peace could not be
attained by negotiation.

After the battle of the 27th the British force, with the exception of
about four thousand men left on Staten island, was removed to Long island
and held the entire shore from Hell Gate to Bedford, exposing the opposite
shore of York Island for a distance of nine miles, to the possibility of
attack at any point, only the East river, in most places not more than a
mile in width, separating the hostile armies. Yet there seemed no disposi
tion to attack. Several vessels of the fleet moved around Long island and
anchored in the sound, while others lay sheltered from the American bat-
eries by Governor's island, ready to ascend either the North or East river.,
Washington at this time unquestionably favored an immediate evacuation of
the city. He called a council of war, which decided against such a move
ment, on the ground that if the evacuation could be delayed until later in
the season the British would be prevented from taking the field before
spring, by which time the American army could be much strengthened and
posted to advantage. Another quotation from one of Washington's letters
to Congress will better give his view of the situation than it can be other
wise conveyed. "It is now," he said, "extremely obvious from their
movements, from our intelligence, and from every other circumstance, that,
having their whole army on Long island, except about four thousand men
who remain on Staten island, they mean to enclose us in this island, by
taking posts in our rear, while their ships effectually secure the front, and
thus, by cutting off our communication with the country, oblige us to fight
them on their own terms, or surrender at discretion; or, if it shall be
deemed more advisable, by a brilliant stroke endeavor to cut this army to
pieces, and secure the possession of arms and stores which they well know
our inability to replace. Having their system unfolded to us, it becomes an
important consideration how it could be most successfully opposed. On
every side there is a choice of difficulties, and experience teaches us that
every measure on our part (however painful the reflection), must be
taken with some apprehension that all our troops will not do their duty.
In deliberating upon this great question, it is impossible to forget that his
tory, our own experience, the advice of our ablest friends in Europe, the
fears of the enemy and even the declarations of Congress, demonstrate that,
on our side, the war should be defensive; — (it has ever been called a war of
posts ;) — that we should, on all occasions, avoid a general action, nor put
anything to the risk, unless compelled by necessity, into which we ought
never to be drawn."

HKNJAMIN FRANK I. IX.

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. IO/

The army was formed into three divisions ; one was stationed at New
York, another at King's bridge, and the third lay between the city and the
Bridge, guarding Harlem heights and prepared to give support on either
hand. Washington evidently regarded this as only a makeshift, and at once
began the removal of his sick to Orange, New Jersey, and of such stores as
were not immediately needed, to Dobb's Ferry. By the loth of September,
the movements of the British had become such as to leave no- doubt of their
intention to inclose the Americans upon the island; on the 1 2th a second
council of war was almost unanimous in the belief that an immediate retire
ment from the city was absolutely necessary to the safety of the army.
Hence General Mercer moved his flying camp, from Amboy to a point nearly
opposite Fort Washington, to guard and facilitate the transfer of stores,
which was brought to an end on the I5th by the movement of three British
ships-of-war as far up the North river as Bloomingdale. These vessels passed
the American batteries almost uninjured. In fact there was scarcely an in
stance in which the American guns at New York did material damage to a
British vessel. On the same day, at about 1 1 o'clock, Sir Henry Clinton
moved across from Long island toward Turtle bay on York Island, with two
divisions of troops. His crossing was covered by a most tremendous can
nonade, directed by war vessels in the sound at the works on Turtle Bay.
These works were guarded by militia who had been engaged upon Long
Island, and who had a most wholesome dread of scarlet cloth. The landing
of the British was made at a point between Turtle and Kip's Bays. At
the first sight of the enemy the militia broke and fled, communicating their
panic to two brigades of Putnam's Connecticut troops, which had been sent
to support them. In the midst of this headlong flight Washington rode up;
dashing in among the flying men he endeavored to check them, and had, to
a degree, succeeded, when a glimpse of the approaching British again terrified
them, and they renewed their flight. Washington for once lost his equanim
ity. He dashed his hat upon the ground, exclaiming: "Are these the
men with whom I am to defend America!" then, drawing his sword, he
threatened some of the flying militia with its edge, snapped his pistols at
others, and was so carried away by his feelings that, had not a soldier seized
his bridle-rein and led his horse away, he would probably have been cap
tured by the enemy, whose advance was but eighty yards distant. Wash
ington at once sent word to Putnam to remove the troops under his com
mand from the island, and the weary march of the incumbered line, under
the blazing sun and along a dusty road, fairly blistering in its heat, was
taken up. Washington manned the lines as best he could, to cover this
retreat, but for some reason Clinton failed to follow up his advantage, when
he could scarcely have failed to cripple or destroy the American army. The.
march was only interrupted by a slight skirmish near Bloomingdale, and the,
entire loss of the day upon the American side was fifteen killed and one hun-

IO8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

dred and fifty-nine taken prisoners. A very serious calamity, however, was
the capture of the heavy artillery, stores, and munitions necessarily aban
doned in the retreat.

The main body of the Americans was stationed in a strong position at
King's bridge ; Morris heights and McGowan's pass were held in force, and
a strong detachment occupied an entrenched camp on Harlem heights.
Howe established his main position not more than a mile and a half from
the American lines, his front extending from Horen's hook, on the East
river, to a point near Bloomingdale, on the Hudson.

The armies lay thus vis-a-vis until the I2th day of October. On the
1 6th day of September occurred a sharp collision between a body of British
skirmishers and Connecticut and Virginia troops, under Colonels Knowlton
and Leitch. In this fight the Americans dislodged and drove back the
British force, with a loss to the enemy of not less than one hundred men,
the colonial troops losing not half that number, though both their colonels
were killed, and the men were led to final success by captains. This affair
was not of great intrinsic importance, but, as the first success of the cam
paign, and one of the first won in open field during the war, its influence was
most valuable. Washington regarded the time thus spent in the face of an
enemy, with a strongly fortified camp to give confidence to his men, as of
the greatest use in accustoming them to field service and ridding them of
that fear of British soldiers, as such, which had already proved so disastrous,
and the occasional skirmishes which broke the monotony of the month
showed, by the steady increase of their efficiency, that only a permanent
organization of the army and a little practical experience were necessary to
secure the best results.

At this time there arose again the almost hopeless problem of army
reorganization. The militia had largely dispersed without the formality of
a discharge, and gone to their homes. Such as had remained would be
released by the limitation of their service on the 1st of December follow
ing ; the regular soldiers were most of them enlisted for terms expiring on
the 1st of January, 1777, and the short-sighted policy of Congress in offering
a pitiful bounty of but ten dollars for three years' service, had failed in allur
ing any great number of men. Washington was attempting to stay the
waters of the Nile with a dam of bulrushes ; the force against him was, at
the best, the superior of his own ; should the experience of the former year
be repeated, he saw before him only the prospect of defeat and destruction.
There followed a long correspondence between Washington and the presi
dent of Congress, which it would be both interesting and profitable to quote,
did the limits of this work render it possible. The first result of the appeals
then made by the commander was to procure an increase of the bounty to
twenty dollars and one hundred acres of land ; at the same time the British
commander was paying a bounty of ten pounds for every recruit. Washing-

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND.

ton urged that, if the pay of officers were not increased, those best worth
the keeping would leave the service at the expiration of their terms, and
that the same might be expected of the men if something were not done
to retain them. He said that the voting of men was very much easier
than recruiting them, and called for something more efficient than paper
measures for the preservation of the army. Early in October he was given
something even more pressing than the future of his army to think of — this
was its immediate safety. After nearly a month of inactivity, the British
took the initiative on the pth, three frigates then passing up the Hudson,
under fire of Fort Washington and Fort Lee opposite, for the purpose of
testing the possibility of passing these forts and the chcvaux de frise, with
which Putnam had obstructed the river between them. Both the guns and
the obstructions proved ineffective, and Howe, finding that he could control
the lower Hudson, embarked a large detachment of his army in boats of
light draft, and passing through Hell gate landed them at Throg's neck,
about nine miles from the American camp on Harlem heights. Upon
learning of this movement, Washington sent a message to General Heath,
in command of King's bridge, to hold himself ready for any emergency, hur
ried his own men to their alarm posts and himself galloped to Throg's neck,
to reconnoitre. The peninsula was separated from the main land by a
narrow creek and by a marsh, over which were constructed a bridge and
causeway. As soon as the British had landed they pushed forward a force to
take possession of this bridge, but found its planking torn up and the cause
way already held by Colonel Hand, with his Philadelphia riflemen, who
opened a brisk fire at the approach of the enemy. Hand was soon rein
forced by Colonel Prescott's Massachusetts regiment, and a body of artillery
with a field piece. Baffled at this point, the enemy moved up the creek
intending to cross at a ford, some distance above, but this, too, was held in
such force as to forbid an effort against it, and the enemy went into camp
upon the peninsula, the riflemen keeping up a brisk fire at each other across
the dividing creek. Both Americans and English threw up works defending
the passes to the neck. In the afternoon nine ships, with a fleet of schooners
and sloops impressed for the service, passed up the sound and made for the
neck. General Greene sent word that every tent had been struck on Staten
island and there seemed little doubt that the scene of action was to be
transferred to the new field thus selected.

On the 1 4th of October, General Lee arrived at Washington's head
quarters, fresh from his victory in the South, and full of ambition for the
future. Washington had the greatest admiration for Lee's ability as a
soldier and an undue modesty as to his own skill ; he did not suspect Lee
of being what he really was, a thoroughly selfish adventurer, moved only
by personal considerations, without patriotism, and capable of the basest
treachery to his friends. He did not know that, even at that time, Lee, in

HO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

personal conversation and correspondence, as well as in his letters to Con
gress, was endeavoring, by innuendo and by slighting insinuations, to injure
his commander in chief. Lee was at once given the command of all troops
above King's bridge, ranking Heath, a more faithful, if not an equally
brilliant officer, and, on the same day, wrote to Gates, — a kindred spirit, —
criticising the disposition of the army, and concluding as follows : ' ' Inter
nos, the Congress seem to stumble at every step ; I do npt mean one or two
of the cattle, but the whole stable. I have been very fair in delivering my
opinion of them. In my opinion General Washington has been much to
blame, in not menacing Congress with resignation unless they refrain from
unhinging the army by their absurd interference. Keep us Ticonderoga;
much depends on it. We ought to have an army in the Delaware. I have
roared it in the ears of Congress but carent auribus ; adieu, my dear friend ;
if we do not meet again, why, we shall smile."

As Lee's course had so much to do with determining the result of the
subsequent campaign, an example of this " roaring it into the ears of Con
gress " may not be amiss. In a letter written from Amboy to the president
of Congress, on the I2th of October, he said : "I am confident they will
not attack General Washington's lines ; such a measure is too absurd for a
man of Mr. Howe's genius ; and unless they have received flattering
accounts from Burgoyne, that he will be able to effectuate a junction (which
I conceive they have not) they will no longer remain kicking their heels in
New York. They will put the place in a respectable state of defense,
which, with their command of the waters, may be easily done, leave four or
five thousand men, and direct their operations to a more decisive object.
They will infallibly proceed either directly up the river Delaware, with their
whole troops, or, what is more probable, land somewhere about South
Amboy, or Shrewsbury, and march straight to Trenton or Burlington. On
the supposition that this is to be the case, what are we to do ? What force
have we ? What means have we to prevent their possessing themselves of
Philadelphia ? General Washington's army can not possibly keep pace with
them. The length of his route is not only infinitely greater, but his obstruc
tions almost insuperable. In short, before we could cross Hudson river,
they might be lodged and strongly fortified on both banks of the Delaware.
For heaven's sake, arouse yourself ! For heaven's sake let ten thousand
men be immediately assembled and stationed somewhere about Trenton.
In my opinion your whole depends upon it. I set out immediately for
headquarters, where I shall communicate my apprehension that such will be
the next operation of the enemy, and urge the expediency of sparing a part
of his army, if he has any to spare, for this object."

The British permitted themselves to remain for the time safely caged at
Throgs neck, while awaiting reinforcements and supplies, Howe thus losing
a golden opportunity by his failure to force his way to and attack the

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. Ill

American position at King's bridge. Congress about the same time sent a
message to Washington, conjuring him to hold control of the Hudson, to
obstruct it in such manner as to prevent the passage of more British vessels
up the stream, or the retreat of those already above the forts, and in no
event to give up Fort Washington, and the twin defense across the river,
t.ien re-christened Fort Lee.

This dictation of Congress was peculiarly unfortunate at that time, and
later events showed it to have been very ill-advised. The people had not
yet learned the danger of hampering a commander with legislative inter
ference, and public opinion demanded, as well, that he take no important
step without first calling a council of war. Hence, Washington called such
a council. The main question to be discussed was as to the holding or
abandonment of the positions then occupied by the army. That the troops
were strongly placed for immediate defense was admitted by all, and the ques
tion placed before the council for its vote was thus entered upon its record :
"whether (it having appeared that the obstructions in the North river had
proved insufficient, and that the enemy's whole force is now in our rear on
Throg's point) it is now deemed impossible in our situation to prevent the
enemy from cutting off the communication with the country, and compel
ling us to fight them at all disadvantages or surrender prisoners at discre
tion." Every member of the council, save General George Clinton, voted
that such prevention was impossible and that the position must be aban
doned. It was hence determined to move the army up the North river
and so place it that its left, extended toward White Plains, should overlap
the British right and keep open communication with the country. For the
purpose of this movement the arm}' was formed into four divisions, com
manded by Lee, Heath, Sullivan, and Lincoln. Lee was directed to remain
on Valentine's hill, opposite King's bridge, to cover the removal of stores
and heavy artillery ; the remaining divisions were established in fortified
camps along the west bank of the Bronx river — a deep but narrow stream,
affording excellent protection — from Lee's camp to the village of White
Plains, a distance of thirteen miles. A strong garrison was also placed in
Fort Washington, under command of Colonel Morgan, and that officer was
directed to hold the fort to the last extremity. The movement was begun
andcarri-ed out with great celerity and perfect success. Washington's head
quarters remained on Harlem heights until the 2ist, when they were
removed to Valentine's hill, and, on the 23d were again changed to the
village of White Plains.

Howe, finding, after waiting six days for his reinforcements and sup
plies, that the causeway from Throg's point was destroyed and his advance
cut off, embarked his men and landed on Pell's point, across Eastchester
bay from his former position. There he was joined by the main body, with
baggage and artillery, and pushed on through Pelham's Manor, in the direc-

112 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

tion of New Rochelle. His desire was still to obtain a foothold in the rear
of the American force, but in this he did not succeed, taking up his posi
tion at the village of New Rochelle. On the march the British advance was
several times attacked and thrown into confusion, with loss; on the 2ist
General Lord Stirling, learning that the renegade Rogers commanded one of
Howe's outposts on the sound, resolved to attempt a surprise of the post
and the capture of Rogers. To this end he detached Colonel Haslet, with
seven hundred and fifty men ; Haslet made a rapid movement, surprised the
post, killed an officer and several men, and brought away thirty-six men, a.
pair of colors, and sixty stand of arms. Rogers, whose capture was the
main object of the expedition, skulked away through the darkness and
escaped. Thus many bold and damaging blows were struck the British,
each serving to give the Continental army greater confidence in itself and
thus better fitting it for more serious service.

While at New Rochelle, Howe was joined by a large number of freshly
arrived troops, including a new division of Hessians, under General Knyp-
hausen, a regiment of Waldeckers, and two regiments of dragoons, from
Ireland, the latter being the first regular cavalry that had appeared in ser
vice during the war. Their coming was the cause of no little trepidation
in the ranks of the American army, their efficiency being greatly overrated,
and it was necessary for Washington, before his men would be at all reas
sured, to point out in his general orders how nearly useless they were in so
rough a country. On the 25th news came to headquarters which led Washng-
ton to concentrate all of his forces from the stations along the Bronx, into
the fortified camp at White Plains, and also to take possession of and for
tify Chatterton's hill, a considerable eminence on the opposite side of the
Bronx, commanding the camp. Early on the morning of the 25th General
Howe, having determined to attack Washington's camp, advanced two
columns, the right commanded by Sir Henry Clinton; the left by General
Knyphausen. It was about 10 o'clock when the British appeared in view,
and a cannonade was opened on each side. Howe, upon viewing the
ground, determined to dislodge General McDougal and the regiment of
militia, from Chatterton's hill. Colonel Rahl was accordingly detached,
with a brigade of Hessians, to make a detour and attack the hill from the
south, while General Leslie should throw a bridge over the river and make
a direct assault. A heavy cannonade was opened to cover the building of
the bridge, and the work was begun in the face of a galling fire from two
field pieces, directed by Alexander Hamilton, then a young artillery officer.
The force upon the hill had been strengthened by the addition of regulars,
which was fortunate, for the militia, as usual, took the earliest opportunity
to run away. The regulars fought nobly, twice repulsing the charge of the
British, and, finally retired slowly, contesting every step, when the superior
numbers of the enemy made defense no longer wise. The Americans lost

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONG ISLAND. 113

in this brief engagement four hundred killed, wounded and prisoners, and
the British loss was not far from the same.

The ensuing night was spent by the enemy in entrenching the newly
acquired hill, and by the Americans in strengthening and extending their
works. The latter seemed, as usual, to have called in the assistance of some
professor of black art, so great, and, to British eyes, so marvelous had been
their progress. They had, in fact, used as the basis of their works, the
stalks of corn, pulled from a neighboring field, with the earth clinging to
the roots, and these, piled with the roots to the front, and filled in behind
with earth, made a very respectable appearance and were, in fact, proof
against small arms. Washington also changed the position of his right dur
ing the night, drawing it back to a stronger situation, as related to the troops
of General Howe.

Howe was astounded when he saw the result of the night's work. He
had before seen something of the kind at Dorchester heights, but he was
none the more prepared for this. He at once determined to await reinforce
ments before he made an attack. Awaiting reinforcements seemed to be
Howe's chronic condition during that campaign — on Long island, at Throg's
neck, and now at White Plains, by his procrastination he gave the Ameri
cans just what they sought. When Morris arrived from Harlem, with a
considerable additional force, Howe at once began to extend his works with
a view of outflanking the Americans, and then reducing them by artillery.
On the night of the 3 1st, however, Washington again confounded the pro
jects of the British, by changing his whole position for one five miles dis
tant among the rocky heights of Northcastle, burning his immovable stores
behind him, and leaving a. strong rearguard to tell Clinton whither he had
gone. Here, as well, he at once began rearing defenses, but Howe seemed
to have no further appetite for that kind of warfare. For two or three days
he remained apparently quite inactive — then, on the night of the 4th of
November, the Americans heard the rumble of wheels and the tramping
of brigades, and, at daybreak, saw the long line of the enemy moving
toward the Hudson, but on what errand they at first knew not. Very soon,
however, it became evident that Howe's movement was directed primarily
at Fort Washington, and it was considered .more than probable that, beyond
the reduction of that fort, he had determined to cross the Hudson and gain
control of New Jersey, with indefinite possibilities as to movements beyond.
Washington decided not to leave his secure position until he was informed
of Howe's destination as, should the movement prove only a feint, the
latter might return and gain his rear. He, however, determined that, if the
British march down the Hudson were continued, he would d ?tach all the
portion of his army recruited west of that river for service against the enemy
in that quarter, and he at once warned Congress, the Governor of New
Jersey, and General Greene, commanding in that colony, of the danger,

H4 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

expressly directing the last-named to watch for an opportunity to assist the
garrison of Fort Washington.

As General Howe approached King's bridge, three British ships of war,
undeterred by the guns of Forts Washington and Lee, passed up the river;
and Washington, hearing of the fact, sent word to Greene that, while he
should not attempt to dictate to one on the ground, he did not consider it
prudent to risk a defense of Fort Washington, when the enemy occupied
the surrounding country, and commanded the river as well. He then has
tened arrangements for conveying the western troops across the Hudson,
determining to command the expedition in person, leaving Lee in command
in \Vestchester county, with directions to follow him, so soon as the British
had crossed the river. On the I3th day of November, after inspecting the
posts about Peekskill and making arrangements for their defense, Washington
followed the troops designed for service in New Jersey, across the river, and
found Greene near Fort Lee. Greene had miscalculated the strength of the
garrison at Fort Washington, and had not complied with Washington's
suggestion that it be evacuated. Its condition was now most critical.
Howe had, in fact, made its reduction the principal object of his expedition,
and had occupied Fordham heights, not far from King's bridge, to await the
proper time for an offensive movement. On the night of November 1 4th,
thirty boats were taken undiscovered past the American forts and into the
Harlem river, thus providing means for crossing that stream, and attacking
the works at such points as should be deemed most vulnerable. Howe, on
the I5th, sent a demand for the surrender of the garrison. To this summons
Magraw returned a spirited answer that he would defend the fort to the last
extremity, and sent word to that effect to General Greene at Fort Lee, who
communicated with Washington at Hackensack. Washington hastened to
Fort Lee, and, Greene reporting to him that the garrison was in high spirits
and confident of success, he had nothing to do but await results. At 10
o'clock on the following morning the British force prepared to storm the fort
at four points ; five thousand Hessians and Waldeckers, under Knyphausen,
were to approach on the north ; British infantry and guards, under General
Matthew, supported by Lord Cornwallis, with the grenadiers and a regiment
of infantry, on the east. The third movement was to be led by Lieutenant-
colonel Sterling, who was to drop down the Harlem in boats, and make an
attack from the side facing New York ; and Lord Percy, accompanied by
Howe in person, was to approach the fort from the south. The assault
began about noon, and the heavy firing of both parties told a sufficient story
of its severity, to those across the river. The defense of the garrison was,
at every point, most determined. The attacks upon the north and south
were made by Knyphausen and Percy at almost the same time. Colonel
Cadwallader, who occupied the first lines at the south, was compelled to
give way and retire to the works, by the success of the second and third

G 'E O R G E G UX T O N.,

THE BATTLE AND EVACUATION OF LONfi ISLAND. i;j

divisions of the British, which had crossed the Harlem, dispersed the troops
on that side of the fort, and were threatening his rear. As it was,
some portion of his force was cut off and captured by Sterling. Rawlings,
on the north, held his position stubbornly. His riflemen and a battery of
three guns were very effective, and only when the Hessians, so greatly his
superiors in number, had gained a footing on the summit, did he also retire to
the fort. Howe now held all the lines and the positions of vantage about the
fort and sent in another summons for its surrender. The defending force
was not large enough to make a resistance on open ground, yet too large to
be sheltered by the works ; ammunition, too, had run very low, and, consider
ing that a further defense would be but a useless sacrifice of life, Magraw
surrendered, the entire garrison becoming prisoners of war. A mes
sage, sent by Washington, urging Magraw to hold the fort until night,
when an effort would be made to take off the troops, came too late to arrest
the negotiation, and it seems very doubtful whether the works could have
been so long defended, and, had they been so held, whether the garrison
could have been taken off.

The loss of Fort Washington was not a vital matter; the loss at Fort
Washington was well nigh irreparable — probably falling little, if any, below
four thousand killed, wounded, and captured, and these the most valuable
troops of the army. Preparations were at once made for the abandonment
of Fort Lee, but the arrival of Lord Cornwallis in the neighborhood, with
a strong detachment of British, compelled a precipitate retirement of the
garrison, leaving behind tents, blankets, tools, cooking utensils, provisions,
and stores, and all the heavy artillery save two twelve-pounders. Washing
ton, finding himself in danger of being entrapped between two rivers,
retreated across the Hackensack and posted his men temporarily upon its
western bank.

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN.— BATTLES OF TRENTON AND PRINCETON.

THERE can be no doubt that with the loss of Fort Washington opened
the darkest era in the war of independence. Beyond the middle of
November, the cold of a severe Northern winter before him, Washington
had under his immediate command but three thousand men who could,
by any stretch of imagination, be classed as effective. These were ragged,
many of them barefooted, without shelter, lacking provisions, dispirited,
defeated. The militia had very largely anticipated the expiration of their
service, which was to come upon the ist of December, and had gone home
in bodies ; none could be counted upon to remain longer than they were
bound to do. To add to all, very many of the regulars in all branches of
the army would be entitled to a discharge upon the ist day of January.
The worst feature of the situation was that, with his army thus melting
away before his eyes, Washington saw no definite prospect of replacing it ;
the weak policy of Congress, coupled with the unfortunate result of the
year's campaign, had left the recruiting experiment an undeniable failure.
The colonies were all depressed by disaster — the middle ones, Pennsyl
vania, New Jersey, and New York, of more than doubtful loyalty to the
cause; on the ground which he occupied and where his operations in the
immediate future bade fair to be carried on, such subsistence and support as
he could not command by force, he stood little chance of obtaining. Nev
ertheless, with this almost hopeless prospect before him, he never for a
moment lost heart or meditated submission. His question to himself was
never, "Can I do this thing?" but always, "How shall I do it?" This is
the key to Washington's character. Brave in the field; a natural soldier
and tactician ; fertile in originating and bold in executing the most daring
plans, yet to this century and still more to those beyond us, he must ever
stand as greatest in the hours of discouragement, trial, and inaction. Such
steadfastness, patience, devotion, modesty, and faith, find no parallel in
history.

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN. I I/

After making the camp upon the Hackensack, his first care was to
draw upon his slender resources for an army which might at least make a
show of opposition to the British and check the growing disaffection, which
was as much the result, of lack of faith in the result as of any predilection
in favor of Great Britain, on the part of any of the colonies. With this
view he dispatched to General Schuyler, at Ticonderoga, directions to send
to him at once all New Jersey and Pennsylvania troops under his command.
His knowledge of human nature told him that men would fight best in
the defense of their own soil, and that the detention of troops from men
aced colonies at distant points, could not fail of causing dissatisfaction. He
also sent orders to General Lee to cross the Hudson and be in readiness to
join him should occasion demand it. Lee's tardiness, which subsequent
history has almost justified us in ascribing to disloyalty, was one of the
greatest drawbacks to the success of a campaign, which might otherwise
have been decisive in favor of the colonies. The limits of this work will
not permit of rehearsing the arguments used by Washington to influence
Congress in favor of organizing a permanent and efficient army. They
were the same already given in these pages, only elaborated and empha
sized, and they had no greater effect during the terrible winter campaign
which followed, than to secure to the army a slender and at no time reliable
reinforcement. He made an appeal to New England, and six thousand
Massachusetts troops, with a considerable number from Connecticut, were
massed to join him, when Sir Henry Clinton, moving by water from New
York, seized Newport, and the home exigency proved too strong for the
Governors.

Washington first deserted his position upon the Hackensack, passed
the Passaic, and established himself at Newark, pursuit being temporarily
cut off by the destruction of the Hackensack bridge. Then the British
army crossed the Passaic and the American commander, leaving them to
take possession of Newark, moved on to Brunswick, only a few hours
before their coming.

The incidents of this remarkable game of war cannot be followed here.
Cornwallis, constantly expecting to checkmate his adversary, was as con
stantly baffled. Washington retreated from town to town, until, on the
2d day of December, he reached Trenton, on the Delaware, the river hav
ing been scoured for seventy miles, and all boats collected at that point, to
secure the double purpose of a means of crossing for the Americans, if such
should be necessary, and, in their absence, a check to the British. It being
considered probable that no successful stand could be made on the nearer
bank of the river, the crossing of the scanty stores and impedimenta was
made in safety, the sick were sent to Philadelphia, and only the effective
army remained. At no time during the wonderful march from Fort Lee to
the bank of the Delaware, had Washington's force — it can scarcely be called

Il8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

an army — numbered more than four thousand men ; when the partial
crossing was made it was a thousand less. With this he had annoyed,
foiled, and escaped from an army vastly superior in numbers, flushed with
victory, and perfectly equipped, and had led the enemy a chase, through
an almost hostile country, still keeping his men together and maintaining
their discipline and spirit, though many of them were without shoes, some
died from cold by the way, and all suffered as few are called upon to suffer.
This retreat and the offensive movements that followed it are justly con
sidered among the greatest military achievements in history.

At this time, General Sir William and Admiral Lord Howe, as royal
commissioners for the restoration of peace, issued a proclamation, calling
upon all persons in arms against the king to disband and disperse to their
homes, and all persons holding civil authority to relinquish the same,
promising to such as should conform to these requirements, and within
thirty days sign a prescribed declaration of submission to the authority of
his majesty, full and free pardon. Copies of* this declaration were scattered
broadcast throughout the colonies, and in many cases were readily taken by
persons only too eager to secure themselves against the consequences of so
doubtful a conflict.

On the yth of December, Washington, having received a reinforcement of
fifteen hundred men from Philadelphia, and the promise of another regiment,
and feeling that some active operations were necessary to counteract the
effect of the manifesto referred to, set out for Princeton, hoping that his
appearance might check the British advance and procure the re-establish
ment of patriotic feeling in New Jersey. On the march he learned that
Cornwallis, having been largely reinforced, was making a forced advance
from Brunswick, in the endeavor to gain his rear. Hence he retreated,
crossed the Delaware, and so bestowed his men as best to guard the fords
of the river. The last boat-load had not reached the further bank when
Cornwallis appeared. Finding that his quarry had escaped him, he estab
lished his army with the main body at Trenton and detachments posted up
and down the river to a considerable distance.

The days immediately following the crossing of the Americans, which
occurred on the 8th, were spent by Cornwallis in a vain effort to secure
means of following the colonial force; this failing, he placed his men in
winter quarters, and the main body of General Howe's army, having fol
lowed him into New Jersey, was also quartered at various points so as to
hold possession of the colony. It is probable that Howe would gladly
have held the Americans in safe inaction until the expiration of the sixty
days named in his proclamation, at the same time extending his posts and
influence so as to seriously as possible undermine the patriot cause.

It is now necessary to give a little attention to the proceedings of Gen
eral Lee. It was on the 2ist of November that Washington ordered him

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN. 119

to cross the Hudson with all dispatch, and hold himself ready to join the
main army, should the British move into New Jersey. The enemy had made
such a movement, and the commander had at once placed Lee under posi
tive orders to report to him with his army. In spite of all this, it was the
3Oth day of November before Lee reached Peekskill, little more than
the outset of his march. At that point he ordered General Heath to
detach two regiments from his defense, to move into New Jersey with the
army. This Heath refused to do, urging the seemingly ample reason that
he was under written orders of the commander in chief, not to weaken his
force. Lee asserted his right as Heath's ranking officer, when Heath said:
"You are my superior officer. You can doubtless order the regiments to
join you, but you must do it yourself, for I shall obey my orders." Lee
gave orders that the regiments should proceed with him, and they would
doubtless have done so had not Heath required a written certificate from
Lee, that the latter had assumed command and issued his own orders. Hav
ing given this, and the regiments being in marching order, Lee changed
his mind and sent them back to their camp. In writing from Peekskill,
under date of the 3Oth, in answer to a letter from Washington, complaining
of the slowness of his movements, Lee said that he had been delayed by
difficulties which he would explain when both had leisure. His letters
throughout have this same tone of cool impertinence, not to say contempt,
which, in a better organized army, arid with a less patient commander, would
have subjected him to immediate removal and court-martial. One letter
says that he will move across the river "the day after to-morrow," when he
"will be happy to receive your [Washington's] instructions," but "could
wish" that they would bind him as little as possible, from a persuasion that
detached generals cannot have too great latitude. And all the time this
man was under distinct orders to forthwith join General Washington at the
headquarters of the latter. Kven then he did not keep his word, for it was
not until December 4th that he crossed the river. On the 8th of December
Lee had moved no farther than Morristown, in spite of repeated and urgent
messages from Washington. That his disregard of orders was cool and
deliberate, is sufficiently indicated by a letter written by him on that day to
the committee of Congress. In it he said: "If I was not taught to think
the army of Washington was considerably reinforced, I should immediately
join him ; but as I am assured he is very strong, I should imagine we could
make a better impression by beating up and harassing their detached posts
in their rear, for which purpose a good post at Chatham is the best calcu
lated." On the same day he wrote to Washington to say that he was
"extremely shocked to hear that his force was so inadequate, and that he
had held himself in the rear of the enemy that he might more effectually
co-operate in any offensive movement. He also expressed a doubt as to
Philadelphia being the objective point of the enemy. Washington at once

I2O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

replied: " Philadelphia, beyond all question, is the object of the enemy's
movements, and nothing less than our utmost exertions will prevent Gen
eral Howe from possessing it. The force I have is weak and utterly incom
petent to that end. I must therefore entreat you to push on with every
possible succor you can bring." Lee remained at Morristown until the I ith,
and then wrote again to his general, proposing to push to Burlington, and
desiring that boats for his crossing be sent to that point from Philadelphia.
Washington then wrote him a letter, which displayed the nearest approach
to asperity of any drawn from him during the whole of this disgraceful
march. "I am surprised," he says, "that you should be in any doubt
respecting the road you should take, after the information you have received
on that head. t A large number of boats was procured and is still retained at
Tinicum, under strong guard, to facilitate your passage across the Delaware.
I have so frequently mentioned our situation, and the necessity of your aid,
that it is painful for me to add a word on the subject. Congress has
directed Philadelphia to be defended to the last extremity. The fatal conse
quences that must attend its loss are but too obvious to every one. Your
arrival may be the means of saving it." Schuyler had, in the meantime, dis
patched Gates with several regiments to reinforce Washington. Three of
these regiments descended the Hudson to Peekskill and Lee, learning of
their presence there, took it upon himself to order them to join him at Mor
ristown, which they did. The four remaining joined Washington on the
2Oth of December.

On the 1 2th of December, Lee left Morristown and, after marching but
eight miles, encamped his army at Vealtown, himself riding to a tavern
three miles without the lines to spend the night. During the evening a
tory farmer came to him with a complaint regarding a horse which had been
taken from him by the army. Lee dismissed the man very curtly, and,
after spending the evening until a late hour over his correspondence, retired.
He slept late in the morning and finally appeared in a very slovenly dress,
dispatched orders to Sullivan, his second in command, to march — in a direc
tion, however, clearly indicating a disregard of Washington's orders — and
was about to breakfast, when there came an alarm that the British were at
hand. The guards had stacked their arms and were endeavoring to keep warm
on the sunny side of the house. In a moment the tavern was surrounded,
the general taken, mounted — attired as he was — and hurried a prisoner to the
British lines, twenty miles distant. Sullivan, as soon as he learned the fate
of Lee, changed the course of the march, in accordance with the orders of
Washington, and joined the army of the latter on December 2Oth. Lee
thus fell a victim to his own recklessness and to his lack of courtesy to the
farmer who had called upon him on the evening of the I2th, as the. latter
had taken revenge by giving information of his whereabouts and of his
almost defenseless condition, at the nearest post of the British army, and it

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN. 121

had required no argument to prevail upon the officers to take advantage of it.
The capture of Lee was at that time regarded by the American people,
by the Congress, by the army, and, in spite of all occurrences, by Washing
ton himself, as a great misfortune. There was something about his dashing
and arrogant manner that excited confidence ; he had been successful in his
only decisive campaign ; he was a soldier by profession, and one of long and
varied experience. That he was indeed a most able officer was then and
must to-day be admitted. Then, too, he had done much talking and writing
to good effect. He had predicted the British movement into New Jersey,
he had openly and loudly condemned the action of Congress in attempting
to hold Fort Washington, while the commander in chief, disapproving it
quite as strongly, kept silence. Thus he had the people with him. Then,
too, he had kept up direct communication with Congress, advising — almost
dictating — what should be done and what omitted. This correspondence
was in direct derogation of the dignity of Washington, and its indulgence by
Congress was an outrage, yet Lee had a following in that body and gained its
support by this very tacit contempt of his superior officer. During the
whole of his service, after rejoining the army at New York, he was engaged
in writing letters to various persons, all calculated to exalt himself at the
expense of Washington. One of these, written on the morning of his cap
ture, to his confidant and sympathizer Gates, may well be quoted. It should
have secured his instant dismissal from the army. He writes: "The ingen
ious manoeuvre of Fort Washington has completely unhinged the goodly
fabric we have been building. There never was so d — d a stroke ; cntrc
nous, a certain great man is most damnably deficient. He has thrown me
into a situation in which I have my choice of difficulties. If I stay in this
province I risk myself and army, and if I do not stay the province is lost
forever. As to what relates to yourself, if you think you can be in time to
aid the general, I would have you by all means go ; you will at least save
your army." What words are these for a soldier to use of his commander!
Here are two officers, under positive orders to do a certain thing, calmly
discussing the advisability of obeying the instructions of their general ! If
this letter means what its words fairly imply, then there was more in it than
an offense against military etiquette, and Lee's ambition should have
brought the blind-fold and the volley, rather than the epaulets he sought.
No, the capture of Lee and his subsequent retirement from the service was
unquestionably a most fortunate event for the colonies. His delay and
evidently determined disobedience of Washington's orders were clearly pre
meditated and adopted in furtherance of a deliberate plan. He was laying
the foundation for his own advancement to the supreme command, at the
expense of Washington. By holding back his army he believed the com
mander in chief might be defeated or at least rendered incapable of resist
ance ; he himself might by a bold move break the British cordon, come to the

122 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

succor of Philadelphia, gain the eclat of a possible victory, leaving to Wash
ington the ignominy of certain failure and, perhaps, gain the command, risk
ing, in its pursuit, the safety of the army and the whole future of the Ameri
can cause. To this end he had sought to strengthen his army by a draft from
Heath, and had afterwards wrongfully intercepted the regiments sent by
Schuyler to join Washington.

The additional numerical force gained to Washington by the arrival
of Gates' and Lee's men, was of very questionable advantage. The men had
been so long on the march, in the dead of a very severe winter, that a very
large proportion of them were absolutely unfit for duty, and the hospital was
better reinforced than the line. Some hatless, coatless, many without shoes,
footsore, frozen, half fed, they presented as miserable an appearance as any
body of men that ever undertook a military service. Yet Washington was
quite determined that service should be done, and that quickly He
saw the immediate danger of his position on the Delaware, and that,
more remote, involved in the freezing of the river, which would open
the way to Howe. Hence he determined upon an offensive movement,
and perfected arrangements to carry it into effect on the night of
December 25th. The weather was bitterly cold, and the river was
full of floating ice, which a day or two of such temperature would ren
der solid. The plan contemplated a three-fold movement. General Ewing
was to cross the river at Trenton ferry and hold the bridge across Assum-
pinck creek, below the town ; General Cadwallader was to pass over at
Dunck's ferry and capture the post at Mount Holly, and Washington him
self was to land a force, across the river nine miles above the town, at mid
night, reach Trenton at five in the morning, and, Ewing having cut off the
retreat of the British, surprise and capture them. This being successful
further movements were contemplated.

Washington took for the service two thousand six hundred men. So
severe was the storm and so heavy the ice in the river, it was 3 o'clock
before his crossing was completed, and nearly four, before the movement
toward Trenton began. Two roads of nearly the same length led to the
town, . and the force was divided into two divisions, one going by each.
Washington commanded the upper column, and, relying upon the movement
being nearly simultaneous, gave orders to the other to make an attack
immediately upon reaching its destination. Washington's column arrived
at the outpost precisely at 8 o'clock, and it was not more than three minutes
before he heard the fire from the force which had taken the river road. The
picket guard made a show of defense, but was driven in at once. The
Hessian colonel, Rahl, formed his men in the center of the town, and sev
eral field pieces were unlimbered and directed at the approaching Ameri
cans, but were captured before they could be fired. The Hessians then
broke and fled, but were reformed by their commander in an orchard with-

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN. 123

out the town. At that point he seemed to lose his coolness and self-com
mand; there was still a possibility of escape by the bridge, and that failing,
he might have sought a defensible position and perhaps have held it ; but
he could not brook the ignominy of a flight, which would have injured the
reputation he had so well won at White Plains and Fort Washington ; his
position was due to his own carelessness, and it is probable that mortifica
tion and shame led him to the suicidal course which he adopted. Waving his
sword over his head, he called upon his men to follow, and charged the
town, held, as it was, by a superior force, with artillery posted. At almost
the first discharge, he paid the price of his rashness, falling mortally
wounded. His men at once broke and fled, striving to gain the bridge, but
Washington had foreseen this attempt, and they were cut off, and grounded
their arms. The condition of the river had prevented General E\ving from
carrying out his part of the design, hence the bridge, at first unguarded, had
afforded an avenue of escape to about five hundred men, part of whom were
cavalry. Twenty Hessians were killed in the engagement; not far from one
thousand stand of arms and a considerable quantity of stores captured.
The Americans lost two men killed, two frozen to death, and three or four
men wounded. Among the latter was Lieutenant Monroe, of Virginia,
afterwards President of the United States. ,

Cadwallader, too, had been prevented by the ice in the river from ful
filling his part of the concerted plan, and Washington, in spite of his vic
tory, was placed in a position of the most immediate peril — peril which might
well have become destruction, had not the flying enemy been so thoroughly
terrified as to exaggerate his strength and communicate a measure of their
fear to those at other posts beyond. There are in existence several pub
lished works, written by Hessian officers, stationed at Trenton, and who par
ticipated in the engagement. All of them greatly overstate the force of
the Americans, one placing it at fifteen thousand — fully six times as great
as it actually was — another at six thousand, and none even approximating
the truth. It is not to be supposed that the story lost anything in the telling,
and it is more than likely that Washington's little force owed its preserva
tion to this gratuitous and imaginary reinforcement.

The capture of Trenton was not in itself a matter of much moment ;
the winning of a victory was, at that time, all important. The direct result
of the success was to turn the British back, and, for the time, save Phila
delphia ; its indirect effect was to give new confidence to the army ; new
courage to the colonies ; new spirit to Congress, to break through the web
of circumstance which seemed to doom the armies and the hopes of the
colonies to destruction ; to counteract, in a great degree, the effect of Howe's
manifesto, offering amnesty, by strengthening the weak-kneed and doubtful
element of the people, and to render possible, what before seemed hopeless,
the reorganization of the army. Washington for the present kept his posi-

124

GEORGE WASHINGTON

tion at Trenton. Count Donop, commanding the British below Trenton,
retreated along the Amboy road and joined General Leslie at Princeton.
Cadwallader crossed the Delaware, believing, in the absence of orders, that
Washington would push on in pursuit of the enemy, and desiring to co
operate with him. In the meantime he obtained and improved some oppor
tunities to harass the enemy and increase his panic.

Washington was now quite convinced of the necessity and wisdom of
an aggressive campaign. Hence he ordered General Heath to leave a small
force at Peekskill and move upon Howe's rear; Maxwell was directed to col
lect all available militia and harass his flank, while Cadwallader was ordered
to join the main force at Trenton. On the second day of January,
Cornwallis advanced from Princeton in force, to regain Trenton. At
about 4 o'clock in the afternoon he appeared in sight of the town,
when the Americans retired beyond the creek, and strongly guarded
all the fords. Cornwallis, finding that his crossing would be con
tested, went into camp, lighting his fires, and disposing himself in
comfort, not doubting that his after-breakfast exercise on the morrow
would be to whip the little force of rebels opposed to him. Then Washing
ton conceived, and resolved to execute, one of those bold and vigorous
movements by which he so often astonished the enemy. He had at Tren
ton only about five thousand effective men ; opposed to him was an army
vastly greater in numbers and efficiency. Should he risk an engagement
defeat was almost certain ; the river was frozen over, yet thaws had ren
dered the ice so rotten, that an attempt to retreat across it was extremely
hazardous, and might result in the destruction of his army. In either event
there would remain nothing to prevent Cornwallis from moving upon and
taking possession of Philadelphia, the chief point to be guarded. Washing
ton felt certain that there could not remain any very considerable force at
Princeton, and he determined to make a night march, by a circuitous route,
and endeavor to surprise and capture that town, and, if possible, the post
and stores at the village of Brunswick, beyond. A council of war agreed to
this plan, holding that it would probably draw Cornwallis back and away
from Philadelphia, and that, if it failed, the situation could scarcely be
worse than was promised if the army remained at Trenton. The bag
gage was silently removed, immediately after dark, to Burlington, and,
about i o'clock in the morning, having renewed the fires and posted
sentinels as usual, the army moved out of camp, and, by the roundabout
Quaker road, proceeded to Princeton. At that place Cornwallis had left
three regiments, two of which set out at daybreak to join the rear of their
army near Trenton. At sunrise these regiments discovered the Americans
on their left, marching in such a direction as to reach their rear. They
retired to the cover of some timber and received the American van, led by
General Mercer. This was mostly composed of militia. The few regular!

THE NEW JERSEY CAMPAIGN. 12$

were steady, but they could scarcely restrain the raw troops. At this
doubtful point the gallant Mercer fell, mortally wounded, and his men,
utterly demoralized, retreated in confusion. The main body coming up,
however, Washington threw himself into the front, and, exposing himself to
imminent danger, forced the British to give way. One of the two regi
ments succeeded in gaining the main road, and continued to Trenton ; the
other broke across the field, and fled toward Brunswick by a back road.
The regiment which had remained in Princeton took post in the college
building, but was soon dislodged by artillery, and the greater part of its
men became prisoners. The British loss in this fight was more than one
hundred killed and about three hundred captured. The Americans lost
fewer men, but General Mercer and nine other most valuable officers were
among the number.

Cornwallis awoke in the morning to find lacking the second party neces
sary to any successful quarrel. He at once saw how he had been duped,
and made all haste to return to Princeton, and thence to Brunswick. The
colonial troops were too much exhausted by fatigue and exposure to per
mit of following out the plan against Brunswick. Hence Washington,
allowing them to rest at Princeton until the latest possible moment, moved
out of the town just before Cornwallis entered it, marched his troops to
Morristown and placed them under cover, where they might recuperate.
Later, knowing that the garrison of New York must be much weakened,
he ordered Heath to make a reconnoissance in force and, if possible, regain
the works of the lower Hudson; Heath, however, was obliged to forego
any attempt against them and to return to Peekskill. The remainder of
the winter passed away without any operations worthy of mention.

126 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XV.

THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE AND LOSS OF PHILADELPHIA.

LONG chapter might be written, enlarging upon the difficulties of
reorganization which faced the commander at this most critical period.
They were the same that had menaced the army from the beginning, arising
irom the ruinous system of short enlistment. Had it not been for the two
intrinsically small advantages — that at Trenton and that at Princeton — spring
would certainly have found Washington without a force sufficient to make
a show of defense. The importance of these affairs was greatly exagger
ated by popular report; they were magnified to the dimensions of decisive
victories. Communities which had before looked upon the struggle as
hopeless, came to have new confidence in the result and in their com
mander. The chief difficulties in the way of organization were of two-fold
origin ; the first came from the terrible suffering, want, sickness, and casual
ties of the Continental army; reports of these were not slow to travel, and
a widespread fear and disinclination for the service was the result; the
second trouble arose from the lack of a competent central authority to take
control of recruiting. Congress was the creature of the colonies and could
only appeal to each to do its share. The British had a fleet ; the Americans
none. The former might at any hour embark a force and quickly change
the seat of war to a distant and unprotected colony. The feeling of indi
viduality had not to any degree given way to that united spirit which has
made the later republic a power. Each colony thought first of its own
defense, and the people complained loudly if this were taken from them for
the general good. The withdrawal of regulars made frequent calls upon
militia inevitable, and thus agriculture suffered and production decreased, at
the very time when the resources of the country were taxed for the support
alike of friends and enemies. This statement must suffice to suggest the
seriousness of the problem.

Congress was sanguine of effecting the happiest results. It passed

THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE, AND LOSS OF PHILADELPHIA. 1 27

resolutions expressing its " earnest desire to make the army under the
immediate command of General Washington sufficiently strong, not only to
curb and confine the enemy within their present quarters, and to prevent
their drawing support of any kind from the country, but, by the Divine
blessing, totally to subdue them, before they can be reinforced. " \Vash-
i igton was not disposed to encourage such rosy hopes. He answered the
letter, enclosed in which were the resolutions, with one in which he wrote :
' ' Could I accomplish the important object so eagerly wished by Congress,
confining the enemy within their present quarters, preventing them from
getting supplies from the country, and totally subduing them before they
are reinforced, I should be happy indeed. But what prospect or hope can
there be of my effecting so desirable a work at this time. The enclosed
return, to which I solicit the most serious attention of Congress, compre
hends the whole force I have in Jersey. It is but a handful, and bears no
proportion on the scale of numbers to that of the enemy. Added to this
the major part is made up of militia. The most sanguine in speculation
can not deem it more than adequate to the least valuable purposes of
war."*

General Washington was quite convinced that nothing could be done
during the winter, with any existing force, or any that could be raised, hence
he turned his thoughts and efforts to preparing for the spring campaign. His
utmost exertions were put forward, yet, when May came, his army num
bered only eight thousand three hundred and seventy-eight men, exclusive
of cavalry and artillery ; of these more than two thousand were sick and his
effective rank and file was composed of but five thousand seven hundred
and thirty-eight men.

This was a force miserably insufficient for a defensive war; aggressive
measures were quite out of the question. To add to the embarrassment of
his situation, Washington was in profound ignorance as to the destination
and plans of the enemy. He felt confident, however, that one of two plans
was contemplated ; either that Burgoyne should make an effort to capture
Ticonderoga, gain command of the northern lakes, and push his way to the
Hudson, \vhere Howe should join him, or that the former deserting the

*In a letter written to Governor Trumbull, on the 6th of March, 1777, begging for aid from
Connecticut, Washington wrote: "I am persuaded from the readiness with which you have always
complied with all my demands, that you will exert yourself in forwarding the aforementioned number of
men upon my bare request ; but hope you will be convinced of the necessity of the demand when I tell
you, in confidence, that, after the i5th of this month, when the time of General Lincoln's militia expires,
I shall be left with the remains of five Virginia regiments, not amounting to more than as many hundred
men, and parts of two or three other colonial battalions, all very weak. The remainder of the army will be
composed of small parties of militia from this State and Pennsylvania, upon whom little dependence can
l>e put, as they come and go when they please. . . . The enemy must be ignorant of our
numbers and situation, or they would never suffer us to remain unmolested ; and I almost tax myself with
imprudence in committing the secret to paper; not that I distrust you, of whose invaluable attachment

I have had so many proofs, but for fear the letter should, by any accident, fall into other hands than those

for which it is intended."

128 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

campaign in the north, should sail by sea to New York, and unite with Howe
in a movement against Philadelphia. Washington's task was one to discour
age any man. He could move only by weary marches; the British had
but to call into use the great fleet which co-operated with them, and, here
to-day, they might be gone to-morrow, making a descent at such point as
best pleased them, their intentions being quite unknown until their white
sails appeared in the offing. Against him he had arrayed two powerful
armies, and to oppose them only a few thousands of undisciplined Continen
tals, with whom he must defend the three all-important positions — Ticon-
deroga, the Highlands, and Philadelphia, never knowing on what day the
British might mass their forces to strike a decisive blow at one branch of his
scattered army. He did not, however, for a moment despair, but, in the
month of May, when general military movements became practicable, he so
bestowed his forces as to render co-operation at least possible, and to rea^
sonably protect each of these positions. The troops from New York and
New England were divided between the posts at Peekskill and Ticonderoga ;
those from New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and the colonies to the southward, as
far as and including North Carolina, were attached to what may be called
the army of the Delaware, under his own immediate command, and the
men from the extreme south were left for the defense of Virginia and the
more southerly coast colonies.

Washington's army broke camp at Morristown on the 28th day of May,
and took a very strong position in the heights at Middlebrook, about ten
miles from Brunswick. This camp was fortified, and, its occupation com
manded not only a strong and defensible position, but one which gave an
extended view of the country in every direction. In addition the com
mander directed the assembling, on the west bank of the river, of an army
of militia, steadied by a few Continental soldiers. To the command of
this force he advanced General Arnold. He felt confidence that Howe
would hesitate to attempt to cross the Delaware with so considerable a body
of men in his front and a strongly posted army in his rear. He had also
quite determined not to take the open field unless he had a decided advan
tage, and he hoped that Howe, failing to draw him into action, and not
daring to essay the passage of the river, might attack him in his strong
and commanding position.

On the I4th of May, General Howe, with all of his army save two thou
sand men left as a garrison at Brunswick, advanced in two columns. His
plan was to accomplish exactly what Washington had determined should not
be done — the drawing of the Americans from their strong position. He
had no doubt of his ability, meeting them on equal ground, to destroy
their army and march unopposed upon Philadelphia. The means which
Washington had prepared to defeat this plan proved effectual. The main
army of the Americans was drawn out, in order of battle, upon the heights

THE BATTLE OF BRANDVWINE, AND LOSS OF PHILADELPHIA. 1 2Q

before the works, and so remained for a day and a night, sleeping upon
their arms. Howe did not dare place himself between two hostile forces,
and soon began a retrograde march toward Amboy, much annoyed on the
way, by American skirmishers, who hung upon and galled his flanks and
rear. To cover these light parties, Washington advanced his army about
seven miles, and Lord Stirling's division was pushed still farther toward the
British rear. In the meantime the enemy pushed on, crossed the Raritan
by the portable bridge which they had provided for the passage of the
Delaware, and encamped on Statcn island. Observing the advance of the
Americans, General Howe re-crossed from the island and made a rapid march
toward 'Westfield, hoping to bring on an engagement, and, perhaps, to tuin
the American left and gain their rear, thus cutting them off from their
works. Howe's army was divided into two columns, one, under Cornwallis,
was directed at the left of the Americans ; the other, led by Howe in per
son, was to attempt securing possession of the camp at Middlebrook. An
advance party of the provincials fell in with the rear of the British right and
gave such timely notice of their coming, that Washington, hastily retiring,
regained his position at Middlebrook. Cornwallis had a brisk skirmish with
Lord Stirling, and drove the Americans from the ground, with the loss of three
cannon and a few men. Stirling was pursued for a short distance, when, it
being discovered that the heights were occupied and their passes defended,
the recall was sounded, the British returned to Amboy, and the entire
army was once more established upon Staten island.

What next ? Washington was left simply to conjecture. While this
condition of doubt remained, came news that Burgoyne was in great force
upon Lake Champlain and was threatening Ticonderoga. This fact gave
color to the opinion that Howe had retired, intending to force the High
lands and co-operate with the army of the North. Hence Washington
ordered Sullivan's division to advance to Pompton plains, on the way to
Peekskill, while he, with the main body of the army, moved to Morristown,
that he might be able to reach Middlebrook, if Howe should be merely
makinii a feint, or move on to Peekskill, should such a course seem neces-

£>

sary. Later intelligence led to Sullivan's advance quite to Peekskill, while
the main body moved on to the Clove, there to await developments. This
disagreeable state of doubt was lightened by a pleasant bit of news from
the Kast. General Prescott had for some time held the British command in
Rhode Island. With implicit confidence in his army and cruisers, and a
corresponding contempt for the "rebels," he established his quarters at
some distance from the main lines and on the night of the loth fell into the
hands of Lieutenant-colonel Burton, of the Rhode Island militia. The case
bears a curious parallel to that of Lee, for whom Prescott was afterward
exchanged.

On the i /th of July the British fleet dropped down the bay and disap-

130

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

peared to seaward, bearing the larger part of General Howe's army. Thus
relieved from apprehensions as to the Hudson, Washington distributed his
army in various quarters, within reacli of the Delaware, all ready to march
at a moment's warning. On the 3Oth of July the fleet appeared off the
capes of the Delaware and orders were given to concentrate the colonial army
for the defense of Philadelphia. These orders were scarcely issued when
lews came that the fleet had put to sea. Again, on the /th of August, the
: rmament appeared south of the capes and once more mysteriously put to
sea, not to be heard of until the i6th, when it put into Chesapeake bay, sailed
up to and entered Elk river, put up that stream as far as the water would
permit, and, on the 25th of August, landed an army of eighteen thousand
fresh, cheerful, and confident men, for service against Philadelphia.

The day before this landing, the American army, strengthened with
militia from the neighboring colonies, marched through Philadelphia and
advanced to Brandywine, its advance, under Greene and Stephens, holding a
position upon White Clay creek, nearer the Elk. A considerable body of
militia was massed in such a position related to the landing place, as to
remain in the rear of the British army.

The entire numerical strength of Washington was, at the time, not far
from fifteen thousand men, but, as was invariably the case, his sick were out
of all proportion to the size of his army, and not more than eleven thousand
of his force, including militia, could be counted as effective. The army
would have been stronger by far, but for the detachment of troops which
had been made to reinforce Schuyler in the North, and which comprised
some of the best of the veterans. The main body was first placed
behind Red Clay creek, upon the road connecting Howe's position
with Philadelphia. On the 8th day of September the British moved in
two bodies, the larger portion halting eight miles from Newark upon
the American right ; the other made a show of attacking in front, but set
tled in position within two miles of the center. Washington, fearing that
his right would be turned and be cut off from the city, retreated across the
Brandywine on the night of the 8th, and took position at Chadd's ford, the
army being extended several miles above and two miles below Chadd's,
to cover fordable places in the river. The time had come when he
was forced to meet Howe in a general engagement, or desert Philadelphia to
its fate. He knew that only a victory in or near the position he then held
could save the city, and he gravely doubted the ability of his army to win,
yet he was obliged to throw the die and abide by the cast. On the morning
of the nth the British army moved in a body upon the road leading to
Chadd's ford. Skirmishing soon began ; Maxwell's body of light infantry,
which had been stationed beyond the river, was driven across by the British
with little loss. Not far from 1 1 o'clock in the morning Washington
received notice that a large body of British — not less than five thousand

THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE, AND LOSS OF PHILADELPHIA. Iji

men with artillery — had been detached and was marching rapidly toward
the upper fords of the Brandywine. This report was followed by others of
the most contradictory nature ; it was believed by some that the movement
was a feint, and that the detached troops, having decoyed away a portion of
the American army, would return and join Knyphausen, who was formed
opposite the ford. Some stated the force to be greater, some less ; a man
who left the fords of the Brandywine, after it should have arrived there,
said that no enemy had been seen. Washington's first intention had been
to detach Lord Stirling to oppose in force the crossing above, while he
crossed the ford and attacked Knyphausen, but this he relinquished, in the
absence of definite information as to the movements of the enemy. Finally,
late in the day, all conjecture was set at rest by the news that Cormvallis
had crossed the river above in great force, and was rapidly moving down
upon the American position. Preparations were at once made to meet and
resist the attack. The divisions of Sullivan, Stirling, and Stephens moved
up the river, and formed to meet the column of Cormvallis; Wayne and
Maxwell remained at the ford to hold Knyphausen in check, and Washing
ton, taking a position between the two, held the rest of the army in
reserve.

The Americans, detached to meet Cornwallis, were scarcely formed
at a point above Birmingham meeting-house, when the British appeared
in order of battle, and at about half past four the fight began. For some
time the firing was kept up hotly on both sides ; then the American right,
unable longer to withstand the terrible fire and the pressure of superior
numbers, broke and fell back, exposing the next division to a fire
upon its flanks, which no force could long endure. So that, as well others
in turn followed, and soon all were engaged in a disorder!}- retreat. Wash
ington sent Greene with two brigades hurriedly forward to the support of the
retreating army. He was, however, too late to check, he could only cover
the retreat. This he did most gallantly, again and again repulsing the pur
suing British, until the advance of fresh men in his front, coupled with the
approach of darkness, led Cornwallis to give over pursuit and encapip for
the night. In the meantime Knyphausen, only awaiting the opening of
the fight in the other quarter, proceeded to cross the ford, which was
defended by a small redoubt, mounting three field pieces and a howitzer.
After a most brave and stubborn resistance the work was carried by the
Hessians, and, tlie defeat of the right becoming known, the left retired and
the American army encamped at Chester. The Americans lost in this battle
three hundred killed and six hundred wounded. The British took six hun
dred prisoners, of whom nearly all are included in the number of the
wounded. The loss of the British was still more heavy. The defeat
of the right was due to the giving way of Deborre's brigade . After the
close of the campaign an inquiry into the conduct of its commander was

132 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

ordered and he at once resigned. The battleground of the day was but
twenty-six miles from Philadelphia, and all day long the inhabitants of that
city remained in the public streets listening to the distant muttering of
artillery. They stood in separate crowds, tories and whigs, wishing and
praying for opposite results. In the evening came a courier announcing
the defeat of the Americans, and a panic seized the patriots ; whole families
fled, the roads leading from the city were blocked with loads of household
goods, while many deserted all they possessed, only seeking safety for
themselves. All considered that Philadelphia was lost. Congress deter
mined to remove from the city to Lancaster, and but awaited further news
before carrying this resolve into execution, in the meantime ordering the
Pennsylvania militia and fifteen hundred regulars from the Hudson to join
Washington. They also conferred upon the commander in chief for a
period of sixty days very extraordinary powers over all territory within
ninety miles of headquarters. These included the right to impress stock
and provisions, to suspend officers for misbehavior and to fill vacancies,
under that of brigadier-general.

In this battle fought for the first time the young Marquis de Lafayette,
who served as a volunteer, having a short time before come from France
and received an honorary commission in the American army. Besides La
fayette, Count Pulaski, Captain Louis Fleury and General Conway also
served as volunteers, with distinguished bravery, all being foreign officers.
Congress made Pulaski a brigadier-general with command of cavalry, and
voted Fleury a horse to replace the one killed under him in the fight. The
unlucky Deborre, whose sensitiveness led to his resignation, as stated, was a
Frenchman and a soldier of fortune. To Lafayette's pen we owe one of
the most vivid and picturesque descriptions of the battle extant. On the
morning of the I2th, Washington retreated through Derby and halted at
Germantown, near Philadelphia, where he desired to give his army a day's
rest. In spite of the retreat of the Americans, which was, in fact, nothing
less than a total rout, General Howe, with the lack of promptness which
had more than once saved the Continental army, neglected to pursue at
once his manifest advantage, passed the night on the field of battle, spent
the two days following at Dilworth, sending out detachments to seize several
neighboring towns. Lafayette says, apropos of this dilatory course :
"Had the enemy marched directly to Derby the American army would
have been cut up and destroyed ; they lost a precious night, and it is per
haps the greatest fault in this war, in which they have committed many."

Washington would not admit to himself that the battle was decisive.
He sounded his soldiers upon their feelings, and, finding that they regarded
the result at Brandywine as a check, not a defeat, resolved to have one
more test of skill with Howe. He placed a militia guard in Philadelphia,
distributed other detachments along the Schuylkill, removed the boats, form-

THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE, AND LOSS OF PHILADELPHIA. 133

ing the floating bridge over the river, to his own side, then, on the I4th,
re-crossing the river with his main army, advanced along the Lancaster
road, in the hope of turning the left flank of the British. The enemy was pre
pared and had extended his right with the intention of outflanking. The
forces approached each other near the Warren tavern, twenty-three miles
from Philadelphia. The skirmish between the advance lines had actually
commenced when began a heavy rain, which lasted twenty-four hours, effectu
ally suspending the fight. The Americans suffered more from this storm
than did the British, being unprovided with shelter or suitable clothing, and,
worse than all, the ill-fitted locks of their muskets and the poor construction
of their cartridge boxes, admitting water, so that an army already mostly
without bayonets was, for the time, nearly without firearms as well. Such
being the case, Washington felt that an attack would be suicidal ; hence he
began a retreat along roads deep with mud, a powerful enemy in his rear,
ruined arms and useless cartridges his only defense ; before him a helpless
city. It was one of the most mortifying and trying moments of his long
service. He had intended to halt for the remainder of the night at Yellow
SfTrings, but an inspection at that point showed that scarcely one musket ip
a hundred, or one cartridge in a box could be discharged. Hence, the
march was continued, and at Warwick Furnace, on the southern branch of
French creek, ammunition and a few muskets were obtained. General Small-
wood was already in the rear of the British force, and from French creek
General Wayne was directed to move with his division, join Smallwood and,
keeping his movements concealed as much as possible, to engage the enemy
at every favorable opportunity. While occupying this position the British
received minute information as to his force and situation. A night attack
was made upon his position on the 2Oth of September. He was taken com
pletely by surprise, but formed his men, fired a few volleys, retired and
re-formed, saving all of his division but about two hundred and fifty killed,
wounded, and prisoners. Wayne, severely criticised for allowing him
self to be thus surprised, later demanded a court-martial, which being ac
corded, he was honorably discharged. Howe, with his rear thus disencum
bered, marched to French creek and set himself down before Washington in
such a manner that he might turn the right flank of the latter. Seeing his
danger the American general effected one of his quick changes, and
encamped in a more advantageous position. Howe seemed to despair of
coming to blows, for he at once gave up the effort to engage, readily
forced the fords of the Schuylkill, and moved toward Philadelphia,
resting for the first night in a strong position upon the road. The com
mander was now placed in a very delicate and distressing position. Public
opinion demanded the defense of Philadelphia at all hazards; Congress
echoed the desire. A battle, so light a thing in the estimate of these civil
ians, seemed to Washington to mean almost certain disaster. His army had

134

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

not yet been joined by the forces detached under Wayne and Smallwood.
His reinforcements from the Hudson had been detained by an incursion from
New York, but were now approaching, while a militia reinforcement was
daily expected from New Jersey. He would soon be comparatively strong.
Now he was weak, — lamentably weak — and, look at it as he might, he could
see nothing to justify him in risking an open fight with a superior force. A
council of war was accordingly held ; the situation was carefully canvassed,
and the unanimous voice of the officers, composing the council, was against
risking the existence of an army upon which everything depended, in what
must prove a vain effort to succor even so important a city as Philadelphia.
The condition of the army was now indeed most distressing. It was
the old story. Winter was coming with no provision to meet it. A thou
sand men in the army were absolutely without shoes. Clothing of every
kind was scanty and ragged. Food for the winter was to be found; hospital
stores for the sick, who at times threatened to be in a majority. Lieutenant-
colonel Alexander Hamilton, one of Washington's aides, was sent to Phila
delphia with a message recommending that cloths, medicines, and other
stores needed by the army be seized, warrants given for their value, and the
whole removed to a place of safety, for the double purpose of supplying
a great want and of preventing them from falling into the hands of the
British. In spite, however, of all his address, Hamilton failed to obtain a
supply approaching adequacy, though nearly all such supplies in the city,
whether in the public stores or the property of individuals, were carried away
so that when the British entered on the 26th of September they found,
like Mother Hubbard, only a very bare cupboard.

BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 135

CHAPTER XVII.

BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN-CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN.

AFTER the loss of Philadelphia, Washington's first desire and effort
were to make the British tenure of that city insecure. He therefore
erected works on Mud island, near the junction of the Schuylkill and the Del
aware, which were christened Fort Mifflin; another work — Fort Mercer — was
thrown up at Red Bank, opposite Mud island, on the Jersey shore, and,
between the two, in the deep water of the channel, was sunk a line of
chcvaux dc frisc, which could not be penetrated so long as the American
defenses were held. Three miles below, another line of obstructions was
placed in the river, defended by a fort at Billingsport. Several American
vessels of war, including two frigates and a number of galleys, were dis
posed above Fort Mifflin, and it was hoped, by the combined action of all,
to prevent the co-operation of the British fleet with the army at Philadel
phia ; to render impossible the obtaining of supplies for the latter by water,
and to so command the upper river shores as to prevent the collection of
supplies from New Jersey. Such a blockade, if maintained, was certain to
compel the evacuation of Philadelphia. At the very outset of this endeavor
the Americans were so unfortunate as to lose the frigate Delaware, which
was left aground by the receding tide and captured, while cannonading the*
unfinished works of the British near Philadelphia. Lord Howe was not
slow in perceiving the necessity of opening the communication by water
between the captured city and the sea. To this end he detached a forct,
into the Jerseys, to accomplish the capture of the American works at Bil
lingsport, and to co-operate with the fleet in the clearing of remaining
obstacles to the navigation of the Delaware.

A close observation of Washington's tactics during the war, will shovv
how uniform was his practice of striking offensive blows, when the enemy
was divided in his force; such a policy was likely, even when not crc\\ned
with success, to compel the recall of detachments and the abandonment or

136 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

secondary objects, for the preservation of the hostile army. In this case
he no sooner learned of the expedition against Billingsport, than he
determined to attack Howe in his camp at Germantown, a straggling
village, stretched from north to south, along the road, for a distance of
nearly two miles. Four roads approached Germantown from the north:
the Skippack, the main highway, leading directly through the village and to
Philadelphia; on the right the Ridge road joining the main road below, and
in the rear of the village, on the left of the Limekiln road, which, making a
sudden turn at right angles, enters Germantown at the market place, and,
still farther on the left, the York road, entering the Skippack road beyond
the village. The British army was encamped across the lower portion of
Germantown, — the right wing, under Grant, on the east of the road, the left
on the west. The advance of the army lay more than two miles from the
main body, on the west of the main road, a picket with artillery was thrown
still farther forward, and, nearly a mile in the rear of the advance, was
stationed the Fortieth regiment of infantry.

Washington charged Sullivan with the command of his right. He was
to be supported by a force in reserve, under Stirling, and flanked by Conway's
brigade, and was to move down the Skippack road, and attack the British
left. At the same time General Armstrong was to advance by the Ridge
road and reach the enemy's right and rear ; while Greene, in command of
the left wing, was to enter Germantown, at the market-house, by the Lime
kiln road, and distribute his force upon Howe's right, left and rear.

This arrangement was an excellent one, and its execution was well
begun. The American army moved from its position upon the Skip-
pack road at 7 o'clock in the evening, and, marching nearly twenty miles,
Sullivan's advance encountered and drove in the British pickets at day
light of the 4th. In a few moments the British light infantry and the
Fortieth regiment, were engaged, and, in turn forced back. Lieutenant-
colonel Musgrave, with five companies of the Fortieth, took refuge in the
stone house of Mr. Chew, from which neither the charges of the Americans
nor their light field pieces could dislodge him. Leaving a regiment to
watch the house, the remainer of the American advance passed to the left.
A half hour later the left came into the fight, attacking the right of the Brit
ish advance and forcing it quickly back upon the main body. Woodford's
brigade, which was upon the extreme right of this wing of the Americans,
was checked by the fire from Chew's house, and repeated the futile efforts
to dislodge its occupants. In this operation some time was lost ; the
American front was thus broken, the division of Stephens separated from
the remainder of the wing, and the two brigades forming the division lost
each other. The remainder of the force pushed vigorously on, entered the
town, broke a portion of the British right, and took a number of prisoners.
Had the entire American left been in action at once, and had the other

BATTLE OF GERMANTOVVN CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 137

division done its part, the British army would assuredly have been cut
and at least badly crippled. The morning was an unfortunate one for the
enterprise ; a dense fog lay over the ground and prevented the Americans
from seeing the position of the British, and from reuniting the separated
divisions of their own army; the militia assigned to duty in the British rear
made as usual only feeble demonstrations and drew off. The ground of the
battle was broken by houses and enclosures ; the American force, groping in
the fog, was still further divided by these, and, at last, all unity and concert
of movement was lost. Under cover of this confusion the British recovered,
and Knyphausen, upon the left, attacked Sullivan, while the enemy's right
engaged Greene's divided force with great spirit. The latter could not long
withstand the attack, began a retreat, and this retreat became most confused
when, having fallen back upon Stephens' front, the Americans were for
a time taken for enemies. About the same time the right, under Sullivan,
began a retreat, having exhausted its ammunition. Washington, seeing that
success was hopeless, turned his attention to securing the withdrawal of his
army, which he did without loss, covering it by Stephens' division, which had
scarcely fired a shot. The army retreated twenty miles to Perkiomen creek,
where it was reinforced by one thousand five hundred militia and a regiment
of regulars from Virginia. It then advanced and once more took its old
position upon the Skippack road. The Continental loss was, approxi
mately, two hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and four hundred cap
tured. The British lost one hundred killed, and four hundred wounded.
In spite of the failure of the movement, Congress expressed its approval of
the plan and of the spirit with which it was sought to be executed. Gen
eral Stephens, whose stupidity did more to lose the day than any other single
cause, was court-martialed for misconduct and intoxication, and was dis
missed from the service in disgrace, — a punishment which his offense richly
merited.

The days immediately following the affair at Germantown were occu
pied by the Americans in devising means for cutting off Howe's supplies
from Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Parties were sent out to harass and
capture foragers, and Congress made the selling of certain specified articles
to the British an offense against martial law, punishable by death. Howe,
on his part, was looking to the reduction of Fort Mifflin. He erected
works at the mouth of the Schuylkill, commanding the ferry ; these were
silenced by fire from the American war vessels in the river. During the
following night a British force occupied Province island, within short range
of the barracks at Fort Mercer, and constructed a work from which they
began to cannonade the fort. Soon after daybreak an American detach
ment embarked, took this work, and captured the garrison. While they
were removing the prisoners, a targe body of British appeared, and re-occu
pying the island, strengthened its defenses, and so disposed them as to

138 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

enfilade the American works. An effort was made, without effect, to dis
lodge this force, as well. The Americans then constructed a defense
against their fire, and awaited developments. In the meantime Lord Howe,
with the British fleet, had gained the mouth of the Delaware on the 4th and
6th of October, and was endeavoring, thus far without success, to force a
way through the obstructions in the river, below Fort Mifflin. Though the
fort at Billingsport was in the hands of the British, the little American
armament in the river had proved so annoying as greatly to retard opera-
tions. The British kept up a heavy cannonade upon Mifflin, from works on
the Pennsylvania side of the river, but did no great amount of damage.
The chevaux de frise at Billingsport being at last broken, so far as to per
mit, with the exercise of great care, the passage of a vessel, Howe deter
mined that Fort Mifflin must be reduced at all hazards, so that the second
line of obstructions might be removed.

On the evening of October 22d, a body of twelve hundred Hessians,
under Count Donop, detached from Philadelphia, attacked the fort at Red
Bank with great spirit. It was defended with equal bravery. Almost at
the outset Donop received a mortal wound, as did his second in command.
The garrison was reinforced from Fort Mifflin, when Lieutenant-colonel Lins-
ing withdrew his force and retired to Philadelphia. The Hessian loss was
placed at four hundred killed and wounded. Vessels from the fleet had
been ordered to co-operate with Count Donop, and five ships, the Augusta
being the largest, passed the gap at Billingsport and came up with the flood-
tide. Some distance below Mifflin, ft\z Augusta and the Merlin ran aground.
The rest came within range of the fort and began a brisk cannonade, which
was maintained all night, in the hope of getting off the two vessels. This
proving impracticable, both were burned in the morning, the Augusta blow
ing up before all of her crew could escape.

Washington was very anxious to strike a successful blow at Howe
before a connection with the fleet could be effected, and since the battle
of Germantown had been watching an opportunity so to do. Taught
by experience, however, Howe was very wary and the Americans had been
obliged to remain inactive. Washington had little confidence in his ability
to hold Fort Mifflin if it were regularly attacked ; he' had less in the issue
of a battle undertaken with General Howe, in the existing condition of his
army. News had come of the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga, and he
felt that, could he but gain time until the Northern army, then under Gates,
should join him, he would be in a position to take the offensive, while an
attack made before the arrival of such reinforcements might place him
beyond their help. Hence, he dispatched Colonel Hamilton to urge upon
Gates the sending of the bulk of his force to the relief of the army in
Pennsylvania. Hamilton found a portion of Gates' force with Putnam at
Peekskill. He made representations which he supposed would ensure its

r.KNKKAI. lU'Kr.OYNK.

BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 139

speedy advance to the relief of Washington, then hastened to Albany,
where Gates was holding the main body with a view to an expedition
against Fort Ticonderoga in the spring. Washington's orders to Gates
were, unfortunately, not peremptory, and that officer demurred to sparing
any men, urging that he needed them to guard the arms and stores
captured with Burgoyne, and removed to Albany. At last Hamilton suc
ceeded in procuring the detachment of three brigades to proceed to the
Delaware. He then returned to Peekskill and was much mortified to find that
the troops from that point had not yet moved. The reasons for this tardi
ness were that the pay of the men was in arrears, and that they deemed
their service ended with the campaign. Hamilton, always quick in expedi
ent, borrowed enough money with the aid of Clinton, the Governor of New
York, to pay the men, and hurried them on to the army.

Before the coming of any of these reinforcements, Howe had regained
the control of the Delaware, by what would have been the cheapest and the
surest means in the first instance. He strengthened the works on Province
island, mounted them with twenty-four and thirty-six pounders and eight-inch
howitzers, and, on the morning of the loth of November, opened a terrible
fire upon Fort Mifflin, at a range of about five hundred yards, which was
maintained for several days. The garrison had been instructed to hold the
fort at all hazards, and nobly did they comply with instructions. Their bar
racks were battered to pieces; the works terribly injured; the guns dis
mounted, — still they remained at their posts, working all night to repair the
damage of the day, and hurrying to their places at daybreak to keep up the
answering cannonade. Only a few hours' sleep was allowed each man, and
that on the cold and muddy ground. From time to time, relief was sent
from Varnum's brigade, which lay for that purpose on the Jersey shore of
the river. Finding the defense so unexpectedly stubborn, the British fleet
was called upon for co-operation ; several war vessels moved up before the
fort and added their fire to that of the works upon Province island. Still
the garrison held the works and answered as best it was able, though the
fire from the vessels as it enfiladed the works was more destructive than any
they had yet met. At last the Vigilant ship of war succeeded in securing
a position between Mud and Province islands, and at a range of nov
more than one hundred yards from the works, opened a terrible cannon
ade, also throwing hand grenades and keeping up a fire from mus
keteers in the rigging, which was fatal to every man of the garrison
who showed himself. From that time it became evident that an attempv
to hold the works would be nothing better than the murder of its
defenders. Consequently, at about 11 o'clock on the night of the I7th o/
November the garrison was withdrawn. After this result, it was at first
determined to defend Fort Mercer, but that plan was relinquished, and Lord
Cornwallis appearing with a large force, for its reduction, it was, a few

I4O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

later, evacuated, and the Howe's, general and admiral, at last, and after six
weeks' constant struggle, attended with great loss and expense, were masters
of water communication from Philadelphia to the sea.

The remainder of the campaign may be dismissed in a few words. Its
principal feature was the demonstration of General Howe against the Ameri
can position upon the heights at Whitemarsh. It began with an effort at a
surprise made on the night of December 4th. General Howe then marched
quietly out of Philadelphia at the head of his entire force, and moved toward
the American lines. Washington was, however, amply forewarned, and
Howe was so effectively assailed in his front by small skirmishing parties,
that he was obliged to change his line of march, and finally found himself
at daylight, on Chestnut hill, three miles in front of the American right.
The American position was upon a range of hills parallel with those thus
occupied, and farther northward, to the right of the ground then held by
the British, the two heights approached each other much more closely.
During the 7th and 8th Howe moved along the height, thus coming much
nearer the American front. On the second day Washington, believing a gen
eral active movement imminent, detached Morgan's rifles and a body of Mary
land militia to attack the advance of the British. A sharp action followed, in
which the British were driven in, and Washington, not desiring to fight
Howe on the ground where he lay, did not reinforce his skirmishers, and
withdrew them with small loss. During the /th and 8th the British
continued to manoeuvre toward the left of the Americans, and Wash
ington changed his position accordingly. On the afternoon of the lat
ter day Howe confounded the Americans by filing off and marching to
Philadelphia, thus closing active operations for the season. His loss was
not far from one hundred killed and wounded, while that of the Americans
was much less. This was the first occasion when the two armies had faced
each other upon the open field, with anything like numerical equality. The
arrival of the reinforcements from the north had raised Washington's force
to exactly twelve thousand one hundred and sixty-one Continental troops,
and three thousand two hundred and forty-one militia, while that of Howe
was not far from fourteen thousand regulars.

Washington has been criticized for not having precipitated a battle upon
this occasion. That he was quite right in not doing so now seems evident.
The same considerations which induced Howe to forego the attack, were
sufficient to more than justify him, whose force, though numerically
stronger, was infinitely less effective than that of the enemy. Whoever took
the initiative, as between two armies thus placed upon opposite heights, must
have been at a nearly fatal disadvantage. Howe recognized this fact as
clearly as did Washington. Neither commander deemed it safe to make an
attack, hence the battle was not fought.

The cold was now so intense, and the suffering so terrible, that Wash-

BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN — CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 14!

ington resolved to place his men in winter quarters. A strong position was
chosen at Valley Forge, on the west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty-
five miles from Philadelphia, and the army crossed the river, and took pos
session on the 1 2th day of December. The cold became more and more
severe ; the sufferings of the army increased in proportion. The work of
building the rude log huts which were to be their shelter for the winter
engrossed all hands however, and in a few days the soldiers were under
cover, and as comfortable as men could be, who were poorly clad for endur
ing even a summer rain. Washington gave direction for the maintenance of a
routine and discipline, exact as would have been required in camp, during
active service. The enemy was too near to render safe the slightest laxity.
He also commended the men for their bravery and faithfulness, exhorted
them to continued courage, and did everything in his power to nerve them
to the endurance of a winter which he knew could not but be full of hard
ship and suffering.

This long campaign, extending from May until December of the year
1777, was made the basis of much adverse criticism of Washington, and was
turned to account by jealous enemies who desired to supplant him in his
command. Posterity has done justice, however, by uniting in the verdict
that not the most brilliant achievement of the war was more worthy of a
great general, than was the conduct of the American armies from White Plains
to Valley Forge. With a vastly inferior force, — a force which his enemies
sneered at as a rabble and an army of beggars — he held Lord Howe's splendid
army for months in an advance of less than one hundred miles. He made
every step a costly one for the British ; he lost battles, when ruin seemed to
be the price of defeat, only to regain his feet, reform and present himself
anew in the face of his enemy. With little and inadequate artillery, he held
divorced the British fleet and army for weeks, in spite of the best efforts of
both to the contrary, and finally, though Philadelphia fell into the hands of
the enemy, he was left with an army better than that with which he began.
A small or reckless man may by chance win a battle; it requires a great one
to plan and execute a campaign calling- for such patience, care and fore
sight as did that of 1777.

142 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BURGOYNE CAMPAIGN.

EFORE following further the immediate fortunes of Washington, a
short review of movements in the North will be given, as necessary to
a just understanding of subsequent events. The final retirement of the Amer
ican army from offensive operations in Canada, had left Ticonderoga upon
Lake Champlain and Fort George upon the lake of the same name, the north
ern outposts of the colonial power. The question of precedence between
Gates and Schuyler had been for the time accommodated, Schuyler, in com
mand of the Northern department, holding the headquarters fixed for him by
Congress, at Albany ; while Gates, as second in command, was stationed at
Ticonderoga. That an invasion from Canada was more than likely, no one
doubted, yet for many months the position on the lakes was rather one of
expectancy than of immediate apprehension. During the continuation of
this state of affairs, Schuyler, though an able and singularly patriotic com
mander and a kindhearted and unselfish man, was far from popular, especially
with the people of New England, and was made the victim of much unjust
and very vexatious criticism and misrepresentation. It was sought to lay at
his door all the misfortunes, reverses, and the final failure of the American
arms in Canada, to which so great a variety of unavoidable circumstances
contributed At last, goaded out of all patience, he forwarded his resigna
tion to Congress, This Congress refused to accept, at the same time
passing a vote of confidence in his ability and 'loyalty, and expressing high
appreciation of his services. There is no doubt that the assaults made upon
Schuyler, from time to time, originated in the ambition and jealousy of
Gates, who would hesitate at no treachery or meanness to remove an obsta
cle from his path, and that this first failure was a most bitter disappoint
ment to him. Schuyler had evidently no suspicion of the duplicity of his
subordinate ; his letters to Gates show confidence and some of them are
almost affectionate. The resolutions referred to, restored matters for a time

THE BURGOYNE CAMPAIGN. 143

to the status quo; Gates remained at Ticonderoga, Schuyler returned to
Albany. It was not long, however, before the sensitive honor of the latter
was again offended. A packet of letters captured by the British and recap*
turcd, was found to contain one from Colonel Joseph Trumbull, commissary-
general, in which it was insinuated that Schuyler had withheld a commission
sent to the brother of the writer, Colonel John Trumbull, to be deputy
adjutant-general. Schuyler, who was fiery upon any point touching his
-:onor, at once wrote to Congress, demanding an instant investigation
of the matter, also indignantly denying any connection with it. Con
gress did not at once comply with his demand, and, at the same time when
it was received, discharged from the service of the Government an army
surgeon whom Schuyler had especially recommended. The effect of this
neglect and, as Schuyler regarded it, the deliberate slight offered him in the
person of his protege, was to bring the anger of the general to the boiling
point. While in this state of mind, he wrote a communication to Congress,
which was none of the mildest, reiterating his demand for an inquiry, and
asserting that Congress should have advised him of the reason for the sur
geon's dismissal. Many members of Congress took great umbrage at this
letter; the opportunity was improved by the partisans of Gates, who, find
ing support from many New England delegates, acting from more honest
motives, secured the adoption of a resolution censuring Schuyler for
disrespect. Gates was at the time in the shadow of the capitol, having
obtained leave, for the purpose of prosecuting his personal schemes with
Congress. Almost immediately after the vote of censure, it was deter
mined to appoint a general officer for the northern department, a step which
Schuyler had recommended. In accordance with this resolve, President
Hancock notified Gates to at once " proceed to Ticonderoga and take com
mand of the army stationed in that department." This language was cer
tainly ill-considered. Upon receiving a copy of the resolutions of censure,
and learning of this order to Gates, Schuyler considered himself superseded ;
while Gates proceeded to his post, filled with exultation at having finally
attained his desired independence of command. Vet Congress had no idea,
in providing for the appointment of a general officer for the department, that
he should displace, or be the equal in command of Schuyler, who was then at
its head. Gates received his order on the 25th of March, and immediately
set out as desired; on the road he passed Schuyler, who was bent upon
going before Congress to obtain the justice of an inquiry, which should
permit him, as he ardently desired, to lay down his command with honor
to himself. It was after reaching Philadelphia that he learned of the censure,
and of Gates' appointment. Being accredited to Congress as a delegate
from New York, he took his seat as a member of that body, and on the
1 8th, the desired committee of inquiry, consisting of one delegate from each
colony, was appointed. In the mean time, Lee being a prisoner, Schuyler

144 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

was the senior major-general of the army, and assumed command at Phila
delphia, strengthening defenses, hastening the recruiting of troops, and
greatly aiding in the proper organization of the commissary department of
the army. Early in May the committee made a report completely exoner
ating him from the odium cast upon him by Trumbull's insinuations,
and also officially informing him that Congress entertained as high an opin
ion of him as it did before the letter was written which evoked his censure.
This rehabilitation of Schuyler provoked a long and animated discussion in
Congress as to the status of Gates, a discussion which resulted in an avowal
that it had not been the intention of Congress to advance him to the command
of the northern department. Schuyler returned to his command at Albany
upon the 3d day of June, and Gates, who had not proceeded farther than
that city, obtained leave to return to Philadelphia, while St. Clair took
command at Ticonderoga. Though the action of Congress had been simply
to define his position, Gates clung to his own interpretation of the matter,
and persisted in regarding himself as degraded from command. He pro
ceeded to Philadelphia; obtained admission to the floor of the House, by
representing that he was the bearer of important news; then, after some
trivial communication regarding Indian affairs, launched into an almost
hysterical tirade concerning his treatment. The House was at last com
pelled to cau^e his withdrawal, and to give him notice that any future
communications in the matter must be submitted in writing.

Affairs were in this condition when it was announced that General
Burgoyne, who had returned from Canada to England during the previous
year, had re-crossed the Atlantic and was preparing for a movement in force,
through Lake Champlain and the Hudson, to effect a junction with the army
of General Howe. This news reached Washington early in June, and
Schuyler at once proceeded to devise means for strengthening the garrisons
and defenses at the North. The main hope of the Americans lay in defend
ing Ticonderoga, and in completing and holding Fort Independence, then
in course of construction upon a lofty hill, directly across the lake from that
fort. The lake is there very narrow and had been spanned by a broad
bridge of boats, by a log boom and a heavy chain, which were deemed, in
conjunction with the guns from either shore, quite sufficient to prevent a
passage by water. It may be stated that these obstructions, which had
required nine months of constant and costly labor to stretch across the lake,
were cut by the British in about four hours. The principal depot of stores
for the army was upon Lake George and the maintenance of communication
between the forts upon Lake Champlain, and the base of supplies, was of the
first importance.

Burgoyne set out from St. Johns on the i6th of June with an army made
up as follows: of the British rank and file, three thousand seven hundred
and twenty-four ; three thousand and sixteen Brunswickers ; two hundred

THE BURGOYNE CAMPAIGN. 145

and fifty Canadians; four hundred Indians, and four hundred and seventy-
three artillerymen, making in all seven thousand eight hundred and sixty-
three men. The army was provided with a magnificent train of brass
cannon, and with baggage and impedimenta enough to have put Braddock to
the blush. From St. Johns, Burgoyne dispatched a detachment of seven
hundred regulars and Canadians, under Colonel St. Leger, who it was
intended should land at Oswego, on Lake Ontario, effect a junction with Sir
John Johnson and his tory followers, obtain an Indian contingent, and,
capturing Fort Stanwix, lay waste the valley of the Mohawk, and rejoin
Burgoyne at Albany. The plan was admirably laid and the possibility of
failure did not once enter as an element into Burgoyne's calculations.

On the 3<Dth Burgoyne, having made a landing some distance above
7 'conderoga, began a simultaneous movement towards the American works,
—the main body, under his personal command, on the west shore of the
lake; the Germans, under Baron de Riedesel on the east, with the fleet —
frigates, transports and bateaux; abreast of his march. The garrisons were
looking for reinforcements, but were well provisioned and confident of
sustaining a defense until they should be relieved. Four miles north of Fort
Ticonderoga, Burgoyne halted, entrenched himself and sent out scouts
and reconnoitering parties to observe the strength of the fort. On the 2d
of July St. Clair abandoned his outworks, burned a number of mills and
other buildings, and concentrated his force in the fort. Unfortunately, he
failed to garrison an outpost about half a mile in advance of the extreme
left of his line, which had been erected to cover a weak point in the old
French works. This was taken possession by the British, mounted with
heavy guns, and thus the communication with Lake George was effectually
cut off. \Yorse, however, remained behind. Sugar hill, a ridge extending
like a backbone, between the two kikes, lay back of Fort Ticonderoga, pre
senting a precipitous descent of six hundred feet to the water of Lake Cham-
plain. The fortification of this point had often been urged but it was claimed
to be out of range and inaccessible with artillery. The British disproved
both of these assertions. Having pretty thoroughly invested Ticonderoga
below, they opened a brisk cannonade from the work which has been men
tioned, and, undetected, cut a road up the mountain, hauled their guns from
tree to tree, and twenty-four hours after the first blow was struck, the garri
son below was appalled to discover the height occupied by red-coated British,
and a work well advanced, from which Forts Ticonderoga and Independence
might easily be laid in ruins about the ears of their garrisons, without the
loss of a man to the British. Recognizing the futility of a defense, St.
Clair determined upon evacuating the fort for the preservation of his army.
This resolve was made about 3 o'clock on the afternoon of the 5th of July.
At nightfall the sick, wounded, non-combatants, provisions, and ammuni
tion were loaded upon bateaux and, under cover of a few gun-boats, dis-

146 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

patched to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), at the head of the lake. The
heavy artillery was spiked. It was contemplated that the garrison of
Ticonderoga should cross and cut the bridge, and being joined by that of
Fort Independence, take a circuitous route on the east side of the lake and
place themselves in the stockaded fort at Skenesborough. All went well
until about 3 o'clock in the morning. Then, St. Clair having crossed
the bridge with his main body, some one at Fort Independence set
fire to a house which, burning brilliantly, revealed to the British the Ameri
can army in full retreat. An alarm was at once raised and, before tht
American rearguard, under Colonel Francis, could cross, General Frasey
was in Fort Ticonderoga with his pickets. The men comprising the Ameri
can rear dispersed into the woods and for the most part made their escape.
In the morning the English flag floated from both forts ; a strong fore*-
was in hot pursuit of St. Clair, and by 9 o'clock the fleet had cut thv.-
boom and chain, and was following the bateaux of the Americans. The
latter reached Skenesborough in safety, but before the galleys, which
escorted them, had come up, they were overtaken by the British gun
boats, two of them captured and the three remaining, sunk. Those who had:
landed at Skenesborough set fire to everything combustible and fled to Fort
Anne. Schuyler was at Fort Edward, but a few miles distant, with fifteew
hundred men whom he was leading to the reinforcement of Fort Ticon
deroga. A portion of these he sent to the relief of Colonel Long, who
commanded the party at Fort Anne. A body of British coming up, Long,
after a gallant fight, set fire to Fort Anne, and, retreating, joined Schuyler
at Fort Edward. The main body of the American army forced its retreat
on the first day to Castleton, a distance of thirty miles. Early on the fol
lowing morning it was overtaken and attacked by General Fraser, with
about eight hundred and fifty men. The cowardly failure of two militia
regiments to support the rear guard as ordered, saved the British advance
from destruction and prolonged the battle, until Baron de Riedesel with the
main body of the pursuers came up and the Americans were put to flight
with heavy loss. More than two hundred were killed outright ; six hundred
men were wounded, and two hundred and ten were made prisoners. St.
Clair pushed on from the scene of this battle to Rutland, and learning of the
fate of Skenesborough, from thence made his way to Fort Edward and
joined Schuyler. There, too, came most of the stragglers of the army, and,
notwithstanding its miserable plight, Schuyler at once set about its reor
ganization, bringing stores and equipments from Lake George, and straining
every nerve to procure reinforcements of regulars, and to raise the militia of
the northern colonies. By such exertions he soon had ?,t least an organiza
tion with which to oppose Burgoyne. One of the few rnen in the colonial
army who did not sincerely mourn the loss of Ticonderoga, was General
Gates. In the narrowness of his jealousy he saw in it only a justification of

i.IP SCIM'YLKR.

THE BURGOYXE CAMPAIGN. 147

himself and an impeachment of the motives of those who had refused to
give him the independent command of the North. He and his friends were
active everywhere in fomenting dissatisfaction with Schuyler, and in
encouraging the belief that he had directed the evacuation of the fort. It
was difficult for the people at large to understand that circumstances could
arise which should warrant the abandonment without contest of works
admittedly so strong, and which had cost so great a sum to the treasury.
Washington's letter to Schuyler, on the I5th of July, is characteristically
forbearing and hopeful. He says: "The evacuation of Ticonderoga and
Fort Independence is an event of chagrin and surprise, not apprehended
nor within the compass of my reasoning. The stroke is severe indeed and
has distressed us much. But notwithstanding things at present wear a dark
and gloomy aspect, I hope a spirited opposition will check the progress of
General Burgoyne's arms, and that the confidence derived from success
will hurry him into measures that will, in their consequences, be favorable
to us. We should never despair. Our situation has before been unprom
ising and has changed for the better. So, I trust it will again. If new diffi
culties arise we must only put forth new exertions, and proportion our
efforts to the exigency of the times."

In a later communication written to Schuyler, Washington foreshadowed
the course of events in these words: "I trust General Burgoyne's army
will meet, sooner or later, an effectual check ; and, as I suggested before,
that the success he has met will precipitate his ruin. From your accounts
he appears to be pursuing that line of conduct which, of all others, is favor
able to us. I mean acting in detachment. This conduct will certainly give
room for enterprise on our part and expose his parties to great hazard.
Could we be so happy as to cut one of them off, though it should not
exceed four, five, or six hundred men, it would inspirit the people and do
away with much of our present anxiety." The opportunity was not long
lacking ; in the face of the obstructions cast in the way of his march, Bur-
goyne reached the Hudson, near Fort Fdward, only on the 3<Dth of July.
He was most anxious to reach Albany, to make his junction with St. Leger,
who, as he made no doubt, was already in possession of Fort Stanwix. His
army and great burthen of baggage called, however, for means of transpor
tation far greater than he possessed. Bateaux in which to convey his bag
gage by water ; horses for his guns and wagons, were indispensably neces
sary before he could move. While pondering this problem Skene, the tory,
who had accompanied him from Skenesborough, informed him that large
numbers of horses and wagons, as well as military stores of great importance,
were accumulated at the town of Bennington, guarded only by a small and
varying body of militia. These, Skene represented, might be easily
taken and it would thus be not only possible to move and sustain the
army, but to mount the cavalry. Bur^oyne was not well inclined toward

148 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

the enterprise, but it offered great temptations and he eventually yielded
to Skene's persuasions and detached for the service Colonel Baum, with
five hundred Brunswickers, a body of American loyalists and an Indian con
tingent. To support Baum he threw his army down the river, made a
bridge of boats, and placed his advance in the village of Saratoga. Lieuten
ant-colonel Brechman, with a strong body of troops, was drawn out still far
ther to reinforce Baum if such an unlikely necessity should occur. The
New Hampshire militia was divided into two bodies, one commanded by
the brave old General Stark, who served at Bunker Hill, the other by Col
onel Seth Warner, the former associate of Ethan Allen. It happened that
both Stark and Warner had reached Bennington with two thousand militia,
which the latter was to lead to Stillwater to join Schuyler, and Baum came
just in time to receive the attention of the whole body. He consequently
entrenched himself and sent post haste for reinforcements. Brechman at
once advanced his men, but the roads were so bad that it required thirty-
two hours to march the distance of twenty-four miles to Bennington. In
the meantime Stark had made a furious attack upon the works from front
and rear and, although they were bravely defended, almost the whole of
Baum's force had been either killed, wounded or made prisoners. The undis
ciplined militia were carried away by their success and dispersed over the
field in search of better equipments than their own. While they \vere thus
engaged, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon of August i6th, Brechman appeared
and would inevitably have reversed the fortune of the battle had not Warner
come up with a fresh regiment and held him in check while the main
force of the Americans reformed. The fight was then renewed and main
tained with great vigor on both sides until darkness fell, then Brechman
retreated, leaving his artillery, baggage, and many dead and wounded upon
the field. The Americans lost in this battle one hundred killed and
wounded. They captured four brass field-pieces, nine hundred dragoon
swords, a thousand stand of arms, four ammunition wagons, a quantity oi
baggage, and as prisoners thirty-two officers and five hundred and sixty-four
privates. The number of the British killed and wounded was very great, but
has never been accurately determined.

In the meantime, on the loth of August, Schuyler had received a sum
mons from Congress to appear before a court of inquiry, appointed to inves
tigate the matter of the loss of Ticonderoga ; Washington was at the same
time asked to appoint an officer to the command in the North, but
requested to be relieved of the duty, and Gates was named by Congress,
thus at last realizing his long cherished ambition. When Schuyler received
his notification, he was engrossed in his effort to reorganize the army, to
relieve Fort Stanwix, and to cripple Burgoyne by cutting off his supplies.
He saw that for him to at once leave his post and obey the summons to
Philadelphia, would be to gravely imperil the fate of his army and the inter

THE BURGOYXE CAMPAIGN.

149

ests of the people. Hence he pocketed his pride and determined to remain
until actually relieved, and, even after that, to co-operate with Gates, at the
head of the New York militia. Fort Stanwix was invested by regulars,
tories, and Indians; General Herkimer had been defeated and fatally injured
in an independent effort to relieve it. General Arnold was at Albany, sore
at heart on account of the promotion of other officers over his head, and
without a command. He readily consented to lead a force to the relief of
the fort, — an adventurous and doubtful service, which well suited his mind
and disposition. He set out with a body of Continentals, the strength of
which he artfully caused to be much exaggerated to the enemy, and the lat
ter, becoming alarmed at these reports and the defection of his Indian allies,
fled with precipitation while Arnold was not yet within forty miles, leaving
his tents standing and his baggage on the ground. Such Indians as
remained with him, raised repeated false alarms, for the purpose of increasing
the panic and the amount of their own plunder, and massacred such stragglers
as fell into their hands. A party from the fort pursued, and, overtaking the
rear guard of the retreating army, killed or captured nearly all of them.

Thus, in a few weeks, was Burgoyne's exultation changed to something
very closely approaching despair. Instead of expected aid from St. Leger
and a body of loyalists which should constantly grow with his triumphant
progress clown the Mohawk ; instead of ample supplies from the rebel stores
at Bennington, with another contingent of tories from New England, he
received news of hopeless defeat in both quarters. His holiday march to
Albany, was changed into a stern struggle for self-preservation. With no
adequate means of transportation ; with a sad hick of supplies; with enemies
all about him, coming up like mushrooms in a night, to cut off his foraging
parties; with discontent and desertion among his Indian and Canadian
allies, — with all these he saw that he must either fight successfully or sur
render, unless succor should come from General Howe.

The effect of the victory at Bennington and the failure of the move
ment against Fort Stanwix, was to inspire the greatest confidence among
the colonists of New York and New England. Finding that, with all their
glitter and display, the British troops were not invulnerable, they showed a
greater readiness to answer the call to arms than ever before. Their harvests
were gathered, and many were hastening to places of rendezvous, when
occurred an incident which was all that was needed to spur the most timid to
resolution ; this was the murder of Miss McCrea by one of Burgoyne's Indian
allies. The story is too familiar to need re-telling. Burgoyne caused the
offending chief to be delivered up, and was at first quite determined to hang
him, but it was represented that such an act would inflame the Indians, and
certainly result in their secession in a body. The general was in a difficult
position ; with the responsibility of an army on his hands, he did not feel
justified in sustaining so great a loss, and hence, while he condemned and

I5O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

abhorred the act, he felt constrained to release the chief, only exacting a
pledge from the Indians that there should be no repetition of such offenses.
Had the murderer been executed the indignation of the people would have
been in a measure appeased. As it was, they very unjustly looked upon
Burgoyne as an accessory after this fact. Miss McCrea was a member of a
tory family, and was betrothed to a young man of the same inclining, who
served with Burgoyne. Tories and patriots alike were furious at her death,
and Burgoyne lost doubly in making enemies of friends, Gates took com
mand the I Qth of August; his army now included all the force of the North
ern department, having been reinforced by Morgan's rifles and other troop?
from the South, and by large bodies of militia. On the i/th it encamped at
Stillwater, and Burgoyne, after a toilsome march, layjbur miles distant on
the opposite side of the river. On the 1 8th he repaired the bridge between
the two armies, under cover of a heavy cannonade, and, on the i9th, the day
of Gates' arrival, he moved across and advanced upon the left of the Ameri
cans. He was met by Morgan's riflemen, who, advancing too far, were
driven back ; reinforcements came and the fight was resumed, the Ameri
cans being formed under cover of the woods. All day the battle continued,
the colonials invariably repulsing the British whenever the latter advanced,
and, if they pursued, being as often driven back in return. Reinforcements
arrived, from time to time, for each party, and, when nightfall came, more
than three thousand Americans were engaged with the whole British right,
led by Burgoyne in person. With the coming of darkness, the former
retired to their camp, while the British slept upon their arms. The Ameri
cans lost between three and four hundred men during the day, the British
upwards of five hundred. The advantage of the fight was assuredly with the
colonial army, which had checked the British, while Burgoyne, with a defi
nite object in view, had failed of accomplishing it. On the following day
Burgoyne took a position within cannon shot of the American lines, and
proceeded to entrench. Receiving a letter from Sir Henry Clinton announc
ing that the latter would attack Fort Montgomery about the 2Oth of Septem
ber, he sent a reply, stating his distress and imminent danger, and promising
to strive by every means to hold his position until the I2th of October, hop
ing for relief from the south.

Neither Gates nor Burgoyne made any change of position, or any
movement to attack, until the 7th of October. Burgoyne was then in des
perate straits for provisions, his army being upon short allowance ; he saw
no prospect of immediate relief from Howe and determined to risk an action
rather than to face starvation within his own lines. Hence he drew out on
his right one thousand five hundred picked men, which he led in person,
with the assistance of Generals Phillips, Riedesel, and Fraser. At the
same time he sent a body of Indians and rangers to make a demonstration
in the American rear, to draw attention from the more serious move-

T II K 1 J U KGO V X E C A M P A I ON . I 5 I

merit in the front. Gates perceived these movements and proceeded to take
steps to counteract them. He detached, for this purpose, a strong body of
men to meet the advance of the enemy, and ordered Morgan's redoubtable
corps to make a circuit and seize a very advantageous position, upon a hill.
to their right. The advance began and Burgoyne was met by a furious resist
ance in his front and an assault no less furious upon his left. At almost
the same moment a terribly destructive fire was opened by Morgan, on his
right. While the British were fighting bravely in the face of this combined
attack and opposition, an American division was ordered to intercept their
retreat to camp. Against this new manoeuvre Burgoyne provided by order
ing General Fraser to cover his flank. While Fraser was executing tl is
order, a portion of the British right gave way, and he went to its sup
port with his light infantry, which was exposed to the deadly fire of
Morgan's men. Fraser himself, one of the most valuable officers in the
army, was mortally wounded. Burgoyne then commenced a retreat and
succeeded, with the loss of his field-pieces and near!}' all of his artillery
corps, in regaining his camp. The Americans were close behind him, and
made repeated assaults upon his works. Late in the day Arnold, who Ivul
no regular command, dashed to the front, placed himself at the head of a
bod\' of men, and actually forced himself into the camp, but, his horse bein<T
killed and he wounded, retired. At the very close of the fight Lieutenant-
colonel Brooks, with a Massachusetts regiment, turned the British right,
stormed and carried the works of the Brunsu ickers, which he held, in spite
of every attempt to dislodge him, and his men slept on the ground with
their arms in hand. Burgoyne, recognizing that his position was untenable,
changed it during the night for one upon the river bank, which he
intrenched and hoped to be able to hold for a short time. Gates, however,
dispatched a part}' higher up the river to cut off retreat in that direction,
and placed a second detachment upon the bank, opposite Burgoyne's camp,
thus effectual!}' hemming him in. The British then retired, by a night
march, to Saratoga, losing their hospital and considerable amounts of pro
visions and baggage. The next movement of their commander was to dis
patch a bod}' of engineers to re-pair the road to Fort Kdward, but the}- had
scarcely set out, when a strong bod}- of Americans appeared upon the bank
opposite the camp, and indicated a design to cross. Upon seeing these1, the
provincial loyalists, who formed a portion of the escort, ran away, while the
Europeans thought prudent to retire. It was then boldly resolved to deceit
everything but such baggage and ammunition as the men could carry upon,
their backs, and endeavor to force a retreat to Fort George. Spies were
sent out, but returned with information that the Americans had guarded
every ford of the Hudson and had also established a fortified camp between
Fort Edward and Fort George, so that this last resource was necessarily
abandoned. There now seemed no hope for the army, and, on the i/th

152 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

day of October, having waited five days longer than he had promised Gen
eral Clinton, Burgoyne opened negotiations with Gates for a surrender. A
letter written by him to Lord Germain, Secretary of State for America,
graphically states the condition of his army. It says : "A series of hard
toil; incessant effort; stubborn action, until disabled in the collateral
branches of the army by the total defection of the Indians, the desertion or
timidity of the Canadians and provincials, some individuals excepted ; dis
appointed in the last hope of co-operation from other armies ; the regular
troops reduced by losses from the best parts, to three thousand five hundred
fighting men, not two thousand of which were British ; only three days pro
visions, upon short allowance, in store ; invested by an army of sixteen
thousand men ; and no appearance of retreat remaining, I called into coun
cil all the generals, field officers, and captains commanding corps, and, by
their unanimous concurrence and advice, I was induced to open a treaty
with Major-general Gates."

Upon the same day when the proposal was made, terms were agreed
upon, and articles signed, whereby the British army was to move out of the
camp with the honors of war, and give their parole to not again serve against
the colonies during the war. Officers were to retain their arms, and private
baggage to be untouched.

Upon the very day of this surrender, after the terms were agreed upon,
but before they had been signed, came news which, had it been sooner
received, might have induced Burgoyne to make still further resistance. It
was to the effect that Forts Independence and Montgomery had fallen into
the hands of Clinton, that the river was open, and that a force would be at
once dispatched to his relief. When this message had been read in the
council of war, the question of retiring from negotiation was considered,
but all agreed that such action would be neither safe nor honorable.

The movement which resulted in the capture of the Hudson forts was
begun by the embarkation of between three thousand and four thousand
men under Clinton, who landed below Peekskill and made a feint upon Fort
Independence. A large portion of the force crossed the river, completely
deceiving Putnam, who commanded at Peekskill, and captured Forts Clinton
and Montgomery, which were under command of General James Clinton and
Governor Clinton. The latter's messages to Putnam, calling for reinforce
ments, were captured, and only the heavy cannonading awoke the general to
a realization of the fact that he had been duped. On the following day the
American vessels of war lying above the boom which spanned the river
between the forts were burned, and Forts Independence and Constitution
evacuated. This left the river in the hands of the British, who signalized
their triumph by burning Continental village and Kingston (then Esopus),
the capital of New York, as well as by committing other unpardonable
outrages. The army then re-embarked and pushed up the river with Gover-

THE BURGOYNE CAMPAIGN.

nor Clinton keeping abreast of it on one side and Putnam on the other.
Then it put about, having heard of Burgoyne's surrender, destroyed the
captured forts and returned to New York, having done little real harm to
the Americans — less than the brutal burning and pillaging had done to their
own cause, in inflaming their enemies and alienating their friends.

The account of this campaign has been given thus at length with
the object of making clear the basis of the conspiracy which was meant
to overthrow Washington and make Gates the commander of the army.
Its intrinsic importance makes it one of the most interesting in the
history of the Revolution, as it was followed by the permanent retire
ment of the British from the northern posts to St. Johns, and as it
upset the plan of bisecting the colonies, by a line of posts from New York to
Canada. It renewed the confidence of the people, well nigh silenced the
tories of the North, frightened the Indians into good behavior, and laid a
solid foundation for the formation of future armies. No campaign of the
war exhibited such revulsion of fortune, was more bravely fought or more
honorably concluded by either party, yet all this would not justify so pro
longed a discussion of the subject in this place, had it not an ulterior signifi
cance, germane to the principal purpose of the author's work.

J54 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XIX,

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE.-CONWAY'S CABAL.

THE story of that terrible winter at Valley Forge does not need
recording in this place. The very name of the spot has passed into
history as the synonym of privation and suffering. Probably no army
engaged in a civilized warfare and in a rigorous climate, ever went into
winter quarters so ill equipped, so ill fed, so utterly unprepared and unpro
tected as did they. Had one desired to follow their march, he might have
done so by the bloody footprints of two thousand shoeless men in the cruel
snow ; there were days when they had no bread, many days when they had
no meat, and the times were neither few nor far between when they had
neither bread nor meat, and starvation literally stared them in the face.
Cold, hungry, naked, sick — no memory of victory in the campaign passed ;
no reason for hoping better things for the future — what wonder that many
murmured — yet those who murmured were fewer than those who suffered
in silence ; what wonder that some threatened mutiny and disobedience, —
yet these were but a handful to the hundreds who died in mute and heroic
endurance. Through it all Washington stood with his men, cheering and
encouraging them by his words, fortifying them by his example. His heart
bled for them as they suffered, and burned with indignation at the sloth and
carelessness that made such suffering for the time unavoidable. Whatever
of repute the most brilliant achievement in the field may have earned for
Washington, none of all his noble works was more truly great than the
bravery, cheerfulness, and devotion which bridged over the winter of 1778,
and kept to its close an army so sorely needed. Others might and did
win battles. He only could have done this thing. Yet there was so
little of justice and sympathy in the people whose cause he had espoused !
At the very outset, the Pennsylvania legislature adopted a memorial to
Congress, protesting against the placing of the army in winter quarters and
urging that it be kept in the field. Then, for once, Washington seemed

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. CONWAY'S CABAL. 155

to lose his usual patience, and wrote a letter to the president of Congress
which tells more of the actual condition of affairs than could pages of
description, and at the same time gives some idea of his own perplexities
and troubles. He wrote:

"Though I have been tender, heretofore, of giving any opinion or lodg
ing complaints, as the change in that department* took place contrary to
my judgment, and the consequences thereof were predicted ; yet, finding
that the inactivity of the army, whether for want of provisions, clothes, or
other essentials, is charged to my account, not only by the common vulgar,
but by those in power, it is time to speak plainly in exculpation of myself. In
truth, then, I can declare that no man, in my opinion, ever had his measures
more impeded than I have, by every department of the army. Since the
month of July we have had no assistance frrm the quartermaster-general;
and, to want of assistance from this department, the commissary-general
charges great part of his deficiency. To this I an; to add that notwithstand
ing it is a standing order and often repeated, that the troops shall always
have two days provisions by them, that they might be ready at any sudden
call; yet an opportunity has scarcely ever offered of taking an advantage of
the enemy, that it has not been either totally obstructed or greatly impeded

on this account As a proof of the little benefit received from

a clothier-general, and as a further proof of the inability of an army under
the circumstances of this, to perform the common duties of soldiers (besides
a number of men confined to hospitals, for want of shoes, and others in
farmers' houses on the same account) we have, by a field return this day
made, no less than two thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight men now
in camp, unfit for duty, because they are barefoot and otherwise naked.
By the same return it appears that our whole strength in Continental troops,
including the Eastern brigades which have joined us since the surrender of
Burgoyne, exclusive of the Maryland troops sent to Wilmington, amounts
to no more than eight thousand two hundred in camp, fit for duty ; not
withstanding which, and that, since the 4th instant, our numbers fit for duty
from the hardships and exposure they have undergone — particularly on
account of blankets, numbers having been obliged, and still arc, to sit up
all night by the fires, instead of taking comfortable rest in a natural and
common way — have decreased near two thousand men. We find gentle
men, without knowing whether the army was really going into winter quar
ters or not, (for I am sure no resolution of mine could warrant the remon
strance,) reprobating the measure as much as if they thought the soldiers
were made of stocks or stones, and equally insensible of frost and snow;
and, moreover, as if they conceived it easily practicable for an inferior army,
under the disadvantages I have described ours to be in — which are by nc

* The Quartermaster's.

156 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

means exaggerated — to confine a superior one in all respects, well appointed
and provided for a winter's campaign, within the city of Philadelphia, and to
cover from depredation and waste the States of Pennsylvania and New
Jersey. But what makes this matter still more extraordinary in my eyes is,
that these very gentlemen, who were well apprised of the nakedness of the
troops from ocular demonstration — who advised me near a month ago to
postpone the execution of a plan I was about to adopt, in consequence of a
resolve of Congress for seizing clothes, under strong assurances that an
ample supply would be collected in ten days, agreeably to a decree of the
State (not one article of which, by the way, is yet come to hand) should
think a winter's campaign and the covering of those States from the inva
sion of an enemy, so easy and practicable a business. I can assure those
gentlemen that it is a much easier and less distressing thing to draw remon
strances in a comfortable room, by a good fireside, than to occupy a cold,
bleak hill, and sleep under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets.
However, they seem to have little feeling for the naked and distressed
soldiers, I feel abundantly for them, and, from my soul, I pity those miseries
which it is neither in my power to relieve nor prevent. It is for these rea
sons that I have dwelt upon the subject, and it adds not a little to my diffi
culties and distress, to find that much more is expected of me than is
possible to be performed, and that, upon the ground of safety and policy, I
am obliged to conceal the true state of the army from public view, and
thereby expose myself to detraction and calumny."

These words from a man of Washington's reticent and forbearing habit,
meant much more than they would have done from one accustomed to
protestations, and given to answering small criticisms. They were wrung
from him after patient months of silence, under misrepresentation,
calumny, and abuse. He wrote, even when he did give way to his feelings,
moderately and judicially, not so much seeking justice for himself, as hoping
that a plain statement of the truth might do something toward alleviating
the condition of his suffering army. With the quotation of this long
letter, it is necessary to dismiss the subject of a winter doubly memo
rable, for the hardship, suffering, and death that marked the slow dragging
of its days along, and for the heroism of the victims, and the fortitude of
their illustrious leader.

It was during the later days of the campaign of 1777, that Washington
first became conscious of the existence of a systematic intrigue against him
self. He had before recognized the fact that some of his officers — notably
Lee and Gates — had failed in that careful respect and prompt and exact
obedience to orders, which one more jealous of his own repute, and less
single minded in his patriotism, would have exacted. These things hurt
him, but he charged them to the defective organization of his army and to
loose ideas of military etiquette, rather than to any deliberate intent to insult

TH:-: WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. — CONWAVS CABAL. 157

and humiliate him. In this his sagacity failed him. The story of the des
picable plot is, briefly, as follows : Among the foreign officers who sought
service in the American army was one Conway, an Irishman by blood, who
claimed to have passed his life in France, and to have served in the French
army with the rank of colonel. He also represented himself to be a cheva
lier of St. Louis, and wore upon his breast the decoration of that order.
Conway was unquestionably brave, but he showed himself from the first, to
be an undesirable addition to the army, being arrogant and presumptuous to
the last degree. These were faults with which Washington had little
patience, and he imbibed a strong dislike for Conway. Congress had given
the latter a commission as brigadier-general, which seemed to satisfy his
ambition until Baron De Kalb, a German, who had also served in France,
was made a major-general in the colonial army. Conway was then loud in his
complaints. De Kalb, he said, had been his inferior in the army of France,
and to now be ranked by him would be a humiliation beyond endurance.
He asked Congress for a major-generalship at least simultaneous with that
of De Kalb. When this application was brought to Washington's notice, he
addressed a vigorous protest to Congress, saying that, if every matter of
precedence among foreign officers were to be thus accommodated, it would
result in advancing many of them over the heads of Americans, their seniors
in the service; that the most valuable of these would resign, and the army
be brought to hopeless demoralization and ruin. As a result of this inter
vention, Conway was for the time disappointed in his ambition, and hence
felt very bitterly toward Washington. lie at once became the head and
front of a movement, looking to the displacement of Washington in favor
of Gates, which has, from his participation in it, passed into history as the
Conway cabal. The latter, a weak and vain man, had already done
much to detract from Washington's reputation. With his head turned by
the surrender of Burgoyne, he was but too read}' to fall in with a plan which
promised to serve his own ambition. The other military members of the
cabal were less prominent, but it had much strength — at one time a majority
— in Congress, and a large following among the grumblers and fault finders
of the people. Lovell, a delegate from Massachusetts, was probably its
strongest member in Congress. The first act of any of these precious asso
ciates, of which Washington took notice, was the writing of a letter by
Conway to General Gates, in which a very insulting allusion was made to
the commander in chief. Knowledge of this coming to the latter, he
addressed to Conway this simple and dignified letter:

"SiR : A letter which I received last night contained the following para
graph : 'In a letter from General Conway to General Gates, he says:
" Heaven has determined to save your country, or a weak general and bad
counsellors would have ruined it." I am, Sir, your humble servant,

GEORGE WASHINGTON."

158 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Had Washington flown into a rage, or sent any but the language of
simple announcement, Conway would have been less completely demor
alized than he was, by this shot thrown into his camp. Accustomed to the
rigorous usages of European war, he doubtless saw visions of court-martial
and dismissal from the army. Certainly he wrote Washington a letter, in
which he made the hopeless effort to excuse himself, upon the ground that
the letter was a familiar one, written to a personal friend, and that the lan
guage was loosely used, and was not intended to carry its full and legitimate
significance. It was fortunate for Washington that this knowledge came to
him so soon, for it opened his eyes, and placed him upon his guard. It also
explained to him the action of Gates, who, after Burgoyne's surrender,
failed to make any other report of the result than one to Congress, leaving
his commander to learn it by report. This gross disrespect upon the part
of Gates, had drawn from his superior these words, appended to a letter of
congratulation upon the result of the campaign: "At the same time, I
cannot but regret that a matter of such magnitude, and so interesting to
our general operations, should have reached me by report only; or through
the channel of letters not bearing that authority which the importance of it
required, and which it would have received by a line under your signature,
stating the simple fact."

Gates was probably too much elated to feel the sting of this rebuke.
He had taken to himself the whole credit and glory of a success which was
but the result of Schuyler's wisdom and generalship ; the apple had but
fallen into his lap, and he claimed the credit of having climbed to pluck it.
Any colonel of militia in the army, could have led that army to victory at
any time after Gates took command ; yet he, a narrow and conceited man
of mediocre ability, took to himself the praise, and it made him like Phaeton
of old, to grasp for the chariot reins of Jove. Had he reached them, he
would have fallen as profoundly as did the mythical usurper of divine
power.

All this neglect, and Gates' subsequent unwillingness to dispatch
troops to the south, were now clear to Washington. Soon after making his
lame excuse to Washington, Conway sent in his resignation to Con
gress, alleging, in conversation, as his reason, that some members of
that body had made disparaging remarks concerning him. His real
reason was unquestionably far different and more urgent, but he did
not betray it, nor did his injured commander. However much or little
was known of Conway's letter to Gates, it was certainly well understood in
Congress, that Washington and Conway were not in harmony, and that the
former would deem it a fortunate event if Conway should leave the army.
This being so, the vote upon his resignation was a fair test of the
strength of the cabal ; it resulted in a refusal to accept, which was only
preliminary to his promotion. Thus the cabal won its first victory. Gates,

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. — CONWAY'S CABAL. 159

on his part, was a sharer of Conway's anxiety. General Mifflin, one of the
intriguants, wrote him at Albany:

" DEAR GENERAL: An extract from Conway's letter to you has been
procured and sent to headquarters. The extract was a collection of just sen
timents, yet such as should not have been intrusted to any of your family.
General Washington enclosed it to Conway without remark.
My dear General, take care of your sincerity and frank disposition. They
cannot injure yourself, but may injure some of your best friends.

4 'Affectionately yours."

Gates was utterly upset at this news ; he had received many letters
from Conway; which was this that had so mysteriously strayed from his
portfolio, to that of his commander in chief? Some were probably more than
compromising; was it one of these, or a less important letter? Who was
the traitor who had thus betrayed him, and what damage might such an one
not do, if undetected? In this state of uncertainty, Gates lost his poor,
weak head, and did the very thing of all others which should have been left
undone, when he wrote the following letter to Washington :

"Sii<: I shall not attempt to describe what, as a private gentleman, I
cannot help feeling, on representing to my mind the disagreeable situation
in which confidential letters, when exposed to public inspection, may place
an unsuspecting correspondent; but as a public officer, I conjure your
excellency to give me all the assistance you can, in tracing the author of the
infidelity, which put extracts from General Conway's letters to me into
your hands. Those letters have been stealingly copied, but which of them,
when or by whom, is to me, as yet an unfathomable secret.
It is, I believe, in your excellency's power to do me and the United States
a very important service, by detecting a wretch who may betray me, and
Capitally injure the very operations under your immediate directions. The
crime being eventually so important that the least loss of time may be
attended by the worst consequences, and it being unknown to me whether
the letter came to you through a member of Congress or from an officer,
I shall have the honor of transmitting a copy of this to the president, that
the Congress may, in concert with your excellency, obtain as soon as possi
ble a discovery which so deeply affects the safety of the states. Crimes of
that magnitude ought not to remain unpunished."

What a miserably, transparently, disingenuous letter, and how com
pletely defeating its own ends ! Gates deprecated publicity, yet gave to
Congress, hence to the world, a secret which Washington had considerately
kept; he betrayed the fact that he was in confidential correspondence with
Conway; that there were in existence other letters, which, if made public,
might compromise him ; and reached the height of folly and absurdity
when he attempted to cover his obvious personal anxiety, with a pretense of
zeal for preserving the secrets of the public service.

l6O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Washington's answer acquainted him with the agent and extent of
his exposure. It was written upon the 4th of January and is in these
words : " Your letter of the 8th ultimo came to my hands a few days ago,
and, to my great surprise, informed me that a copy of it had been sent to
Congress, for what reason I find myself unable to account ; but, as some
end was doubtless intended to be answered by it, I am laid under the dis
agreeable necessity of returning my answer through the same channel, lest
any member of that honorable body should harbor an unfavorable suspicion
of my having practiced some indirect means to come at the contents of the
confidential letters, between you and General Conway. I am to inform you,
then, that Colonel Wilkinson, on his way to Congress, in the month of
October last, fell in with Lord Stirling, at Reading, and, not in confidence
that I ever understood, informed his aide de camp, Major McWilliams, that
General Conway had written this to you : ' Heaven has been determined
to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors would have
ruined it.' Lord Stirling, from motives of friendship, transmitted the
account with this remark : ' The enclosed was communicated by Colonel
Wilkinson to Major McWilliams. Such wicked duplicity of conduct I shall
always think it my duty to detect.' . . Neither this letter, nor the
information which occasioned it, was ever, directly or indirectly, communi
cated by me to a single officer of this army, outside of my own family,
excepting the Marquis de Lafayette, who, having been spoken to on the
subject by General Conway, applied for, and saw, under injunctions of
secrecy, the letter which contained Wilkinson's information ; so desirous
was I of concealing every matter which could, in its consequences, give the
smallest interruption to the tranquility of the army, or afford a gleam of
hope to the enemy by dissensions therein. . . . Till Lord Stir
ling's letter came to my hands, I never knew that General Conway, whom
I viewed in the light of a stranger to you, was a correspondent of yours ;
much less did I suspect that I was the subject of your confidential letters.
Pardon me then, for adding that so far from considering the safety of the
States can be affected, or in the smallest degree injured by a discovery of
this kind, or that I should be called upon, in such solemn words to point
out the author, I considered the information as coming from yourself, and
given with a view to forewarn and so forearm me against a secret enemy, or,
in other words, a dangerous incendiary ; in which character, sooner or later,
this country will know General Conway. But in this, as in other matters
of late, I have found myself mistaken."

When this letter came to Gates, he was greatly relieved at finding that
but one clause of a single letter had come to the hands of the commander
in chief, and that not through a channel which promised any further
exposure of what was doubtless, as a whole, a very damaging correspond
ence. It gave him, too, a scapegoat, in the person of Wilkinson, who, as

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. — CONWAY'S CABAL. l6l

his aide de-camp, had been one of the most subservient of the minor crea
tures of the cabal. One of the measures adopted by Congress, and which
clearly indicated the strength of the combination against Washington, was
the increase of the board of war, from three to five members, including
Joseph Trumbull, General Mifflin, and General Gates, the last named being
made president of the board. This occurred on the 2/th of November.
In December, Congress carried into effect one of the earliest recommenda-.
tions of the board of war, by appointing two inspectors-general, for tha
promotion of discipline and reformation of abuses in the army, and, to om
of these positions, appointed Conway, with the rank of major-general. A
more pointed and deliberate affront to the commander in chief could scarcely
have been conceived, and his resignation would doubtless have followed, but
for the single-minded patriotism which invariably led him to sacrifice every
thing of personal feeling for the advancement of the cause which he held so
dear. Gates was urged by his associates and supporters to make haste in
assuming his place at the head of the board of war and thus save the
southern army and his country. In compliance he hastened to Yorktown,
the then seat of government, and it was at that place, earl}- in January, that
he received Washington's answer to his letter of inquiry. lie at once
penned the following reply: "The letter which I had the honor to receive
yesterday from your Excellency, has relieved me from unspeakable uneasi
ness. I now anticipate the pleasure it will give you, when you discover that
what has been conveyed to you as an abstract of General Conway 's letter
to me, was not an information which friendly motives induced a man of
honor to give, that injured virtue might be forearmed against secret enemies.
The paragraph which your Excellency has condescended to transcribe, is
spurious. It was certainly fabricated to answer the most selfish and wicked
purposes."

The letter proceeds at length to state that the genuine communication
from Conway did, in fact, contain proper criticisms of the army, relating to
its organization and discipline, but nothing assailing the commander in
chief. He follows with a lame excuse for his former agitation and for hav
ing made his communication to Congress as well as to Washington in
person, and concludes: "About the time I was forwarding those letters,
Brigadier-general Wilkinson returned to Albany. I informed him of the
treachery which had been committed, but I concealed from him the meas
ures I was pursuing to unmask the author. Wilkinson answered he was
assured it never would come to light, and endeavored to fix my suspicions
on Lieutenant-colonel Troup, who, he said, might have incautiously con
versed on the substance of General Conway's letter with Colonel Hamilton,
whom you had sent not long before to Albany. I did not listen to this
insinuation against your aide-de-camp and mine." The original draft of this
letter, which remains among the papers of Gates, is thus quoted by Irving:

1 62 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

4 'But the light your Excellency has just assisted me with, exhibiting the
many qualifications which are necessarily blended together in the head and
heart of General Wilkinson. I would not avoid this fact: it will enable your
Excellency to judge whether or no he would scruple to make such a forgery
as that which he now stands charged with, and ought to be exemplaiily
punished." This and much more of the same purport was erased by Gates,
and not included in his final letter to Washington, but came, in some man
ner, into the hands of Wilkinson. Conway wrote to Washington on the 27th
of January, informing the commander in chief that the letter had been
returned by Gates and that he was very happy to find "that the paragraph
so much spoken of did not exist in the said letter, nor anything like it."

Washington for once felt too deeply the personal treachery which had
been directed against him, to remain silent and thus tacitly accept the expla
nation conveyed in these two obviously disingenuous, if not untruthful, let
ters. He wrote Gates, judicially analyzing the two letters written by the
latter, and pointing out their inconsistency with each other and that of each
within itself; how what he had practically admitted in one was denied in the
other, in which he had pronounced the extract from Conway's letter " a
wicked forgery." Washington continued: "It is not my intention to
contradict this assertion, but only to intimate some considerations which
tend to induce the supposition that, though none of General Conway's letters
to you contained the offensive passage mentioned, there might have been
something too nearly related to it, that could give such an extraordinary
alarm; if this is not the case, how easy to have declared in the first instance
that there was nothing exceptionable in them, and to have produced the let
ters themselves in support of it. The propriety of the objections suggested
against submitting them to inspection may well be questioned. The various
reports circulated concerning their contents were, perhaps, so many argu
ments for making them speak for themselves, to place the matter upon the
footing of certainty. Concealment in an affair which had made so much
noise, though not by my means, will naturally lead men to conjecture the
worst, and it will be a subject of speculation even to candor itself. The
anxiety and jealousy you apprehend from revealing the letter will be very

apt to be increased by suppressing it Notwithstanding the

hopeful presages you are pleased to figure to yourself, of General Conway's
firm and constant friendship to America, I cannot persuade myself to retract
the prediction concerning him, which you so emphatically wish had not been
inserted in my last. A better acquaintance with him than I have reason to
think you have had, from what you say, and a concurrence of circumstances,
oblige me to give him but little credit for the qualifications of his heart, of
which, at least, I beg leave to assume the privilege of being a tolerable
judge. Were it necessary, more instances than one might be adduced, from
his behavior and conversation, to manifest that he is capable of all the malig-

HORATIO GATKS.

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. CONWAY'S CABAL. 163

nity of detraction, and all the meanness of intrigue, to gratify the absurd
resentment of disappointed vanity, or to answer the purpose of personal
aggrandizement and promote the interest of faction."

An anonymous letter, dated at Yorktown on the I2th of January, and
addressed to Patrick Henry, contained these words: "We have only passed
the Red Sea. A dreary wilderness is still before us, and, unless a Moses or
a Joshua is raised up in our behalf, we must perish before we reach the prom
ised land. But is our cause desperate? By no means. We have wisdom,
virtue, and strength enough to save us, if they could be called into action.
The Northern army has shown us what Americans are capable of doing with
a general at their head. The spirit of the Southern army is in no way infe
rior to the spirit of the Northern. A Gates, a Lee, or a Conway would, in
a few weeks, render them an irresistible body of men."

Another anonymous letter in the same tone, and bearing marks of the
same handiwork, was sent to Mr. Laurens, for presentation to Congress. It
concludes as follows: "That the head cannot possibly be sound when the
whole body is disordered ; that the people of America have been guilty of
idolatry, by making a man their god, and the God of Heaven and earth will
convince them, by woful experience, that he is only a man; that no good
can be expected of the standing army until Baal and his worshippers are
banished from the camp."

Mr. Laurens did not present this letter to Congress, but, instead, sent
it to Washington. The latter made the following characteristic reply to the
letter in which it was inclosed : "I can not sufficiently express the obliga
tion I feel to you for your friendship and politeness, upon an occasion in
which I am so deeply interested. I was not unappriscd that a malignant
faction had been for some time forming to my prejudice; and which, con
scious as I am of having ever done all in my power to answer the important
purposes of the trust reposed in me, could not but give me some pain on a
personal account. But my chief concern arises from an apprehension of the
dangerous consequences which intestine dissensions ma}- produce to the
common cause. My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They
know the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of policy deprive me
of the defense I might otherwise make against their insidious attacks. They
know I cannot combat their insinuations, however injurious, without dis
closing secrets which it is of the utmost moment to conceal. But win* should
I expect to be exempt from censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station ?
Merit and talents with which I can have no pretense of rivalship, have ever
been subjected to it. My heart tells me that it has ever been in}- unremit
ting aim to do the best that circumstances would permit; yet I have been
very often mistaken in my judgment of the means, and may, in many
instances, deserve the imputation of error."

Gates was impatient to make some bold stroke as president of the board

164 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

of war, which should secure his position and promote his aims. To this
end he and his counsellors projected a winter expedition against Canada, to
set out from Albany, pass Lake Champlain upon the ice, destroy the British
vessels at St. Johns, and capture Montreal. With a view to seduce Lafay
ette from his allegiance to Washington, it was proposed to give the com
mand of the expedition to him, with Conway as second in command. The
first intimation that the commander in chief received that so foolhardy an
undertaking had been agreed upon, was the forwarding of notice of Lafay
ette's appointment to the command, in a letter from Gates to himself, asking
his advice, as a mere matter of form, more insulting in its observance than
in its omission. Lafayette was at first determined not to accept the com
mand, but Washington persuaded him to alter his resolution, and he pro
ceeded to Yorktown, where he dissipated the hopes of the cabal, by
proposing the health of the commander in chief at the dinner-table of General
Gates, and by insisting that Baron De Kalb should receive an appointment
to accompany him to the North. The history of the abortive and ill-advised
expedition does not need recounting here. It was the first stone hung about
the neck of the cabal, which eventually aided to sink it.

The last of the Conway-Gates correspondence was not yet. Wilkinson,
who was a most accomplished liar, had denied to General Gates, the telling
of tales about the Conway correspondence to Lord Stirling or Major Mc-
Williams. Stirling thereupon wrote him a note asking an explanation,
when, with mighty rhetorical flourish, Wilkinson responded, saying that he
might, in a moment of confidence, have said something of the import
alleged. Gates, upon his part, did not receive the denial of his former aide
as absolutely conclusive, and Wilkinson challenged Gates to a duel, which
was, however, never fought, being interrupted by a touching and lachrymose
reconciliation of the two men, who had only ceased villifying each other to
appeal to the code.

The cabal had already begun to suffer from its exposure. The people
love fair play, and the publication of the existence of an organized movement
to crush any public man is apt to cause its recoil upon its originators. The
scandal connected with the Conway-Gates letter, had been of less injury
than benefit to Washington. Following it, the course of Wilkinson had
placed that officer before the world in a most unenviable light, and, as was
inevitable, those with whom he had been associated, suffered by that fact.

One crowning and overreaching act of folly remained to signalize
the closing days of the conspiracy. During the winter of 1778, a num
ber of letters, purporting to have been written by Washington, were
republished in pamphlet form in England, and reproduced in pamphlet
and broadside in New York and Philadelphia. These were forged,
though by a clever hand and by some person having a degree of
familiarity with the private affairs of the commander in chief. Some

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. CONWAY'S CABAL. 165

of the letters were addressed to Mrs. Washington, but the majority to
Lund Washington, the general's man of business. They were circulated
under the representation that they were first draughts of the letters,
and had been left in the charge of Washington's colored valet, who
was ill at Fort Lee, and was left behind upon its evacuation. The letters
were mostly upon domestic and business subjects, and were artfully drawn
to give them an appearance of genuineness. Mingled with other matters
were occasional allusions to subjects connected with the army and the war, so
flippant, so selfish and heartless in tone, that, had they been genuine, or
generally believed so to be, they must have irreparably ruined the general.
As it was, they were not so accepted. The writers had overreached them
selves by too hardly taxing the credulity of the world. People might have
been made to doubt the wisdom and generalship of Washington, but they
knew him, his efforts and sacrifices, too well to believe him other than single
hearted and truly patriotic. The letters, too, have intrinsic evidence of
spuriousneGS. The unlikelihood of a busy man's re-writing letters to his
wife and agent; the improbability of a wise man leaving compromising
papers in the hands of a servant, and at an exposed fort; more than all, the
tone of the letters, utterly foreign to the character of their alleged author
and at varience with all his public and private utterances, all these con
siderations combined to defeat the design of the contemptible villain who
uttered the forgeries. Who this was has never been discovered, but people
were not slow to charge the cabal with the responsibility, and it reaped,
whether or not the seeds were of its own sowing, a most unhappy harvest.
Save in his private intercourse and correspondence, Washington never
denied having written these letters, until his final retirement from the Presi
dential chair, when he deemed himself free from all chance of misconcep
tion. Then he dismissed the subject with a few words of simple assertion.
Early in the spring of 177^, Washington had a conversation with
Wilkinson, and laid before that mercurial officer the letters which had passed
between himself and Gates. This drew from Wilkinson the following:
" I beg you to receive the grateful homage of a sensible mind for your con
descension in exposing to me General Gates' letters, which unmask his arti
fices and efforts to ruin me. The authenticity of the information received
through Lord Stirling, I cannot confirm, as I solemnly assure your excel
lency I do not remember the conversation which passed on that occasion,
nor can I recollect particular passages of that letter, as I had but a cursory
view of it at a late hour. However, I so well remember its general tenor,
that, although General Gates has pledged his word it was a wicked and
malicious forgery, I would stake my reputation, if the genuine letter is pro
duced, that words to the same effect would appear." A few days later
Wilkinson, who had been made secretary of the board of war, of which, as

166 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

will be remembered, Gates was president, sent to the president of Congress
the following communication :

«SiR: — While I make my acknowledgments to Congress for my appoint
ment as secretary to the board of war and ordnance, I am sorry I should
be constrained to resign that office ; but, after the acts of treachery and
falsehood, in which I have detected Major-general Gates, the president of
that board, it is impossible for me to reconcile it with my honor to serve
with him." This is justly the last heard of Wilkinson.

The power of the cabal to harm Washington was practically at an end.
Early in the following campaign it was officially defeated by a vote of Con
gress. Washington dismissed it in a letter to Patrick Henry, with these
words: "I cannot precisely mark the extent of their views; but it
appeared, in general, that General Gates was to be appointed upon the
ruins of my reputation and influence. This I am authorized to say, from
undeniable facts in my possession, from publications, the evident scope of
which could not be mistaken, and from private detractions industriously
circulated. General Mifflin, it is commonly supposed, bore the second part
in the cabal ; and General Conway, I know was a very active and malignant
partisan ; but I have good reason to believe that their machinations have
recoiled most seriously upon themselves."

The remaining history of the cabal may be very tersely summed up.
It had lost its power and what small amount of popularity it ever possessed.
Congress transferred Gates to the command of the Hudson, and placed him
directly under the orders of the man whom he had sought to humiliate.
Conway, who set out for Canada with Lafayette, and for a time, remained
in command at Albany, was thence ordered to Peekskill, and, in the face of a
campaign, was again sent to Albany. After the last mentioned transfer, he
wrote an exceedingly impertinent letter to the president of Congress, inti
mating a desire to resign his commission. To his intense surprise and mor
tification, he found himself taken at his word, and the most abject effort
upon his part failed to secure him a re-instatement. The position of inspec
tor-general, with the rank and pay of major-general, thus vacated, was, upon
Washington's recommendation, given to the gallant Baron Steuben. After
leaving the army, Conway frequently indulged in abuse of Washington and
his friends. This, on one occasion, gave offense to General John Cadwala-
der; a challenge passed, a duel was fought, and Conway was dangerously,
as he supposed, fatally, wounded. Like many another weak man, he was
ready and anxious to give that justice upon his death-bed, which he had
refused when it would have been of value. Hence, he penned these lines,
and dispatched them to Washington :

"PHILADELPHIA, 23d July, 1778.

"SiR: — I find myself just able to hold the pen during a few minutes, and
take this opportunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written,

THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. COJfWAY's CABAL. l6/

or said anything disagreeable to your Excellency. My career will soon be
over, therefore justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments.
You are, in my eyes, the great and good man. May you long enjoy the
love, veneration, and esteem of these States, whose liberties you have
asserted by your virtues.

''I am, with great respect, etc.,

THOMAS CONWAY."

Had Conway possessed the grace to die at once, after writing these
lines, he might have been forgiven, as one is apt to be, who repents and
confesses in extremis, but he persisted in recovering, and finding himself
universally avoided and held in contempt, sailed for France and went out of
sight forever. With his disappearance we gladly dismiss the infamous
intrigue to which he gave a name.

168 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XX.

THE PEACE COMMISSION— ATTEMPT AGAINST LAFAYETTE— THE FRENCH ALLIANCE.

THE effect of the surrender of Burgoyne upon the opinion of the Brit
ish Parliament and people, was effectual in decidedly modifying the
tone adopted in discussing the American war. Not the least cause of this
change of heart could be found in the fear that France would be led into
an alliance with the colonies. When, therefore, early in the winter, Lord
North presented his famous "conciliatory bills," they met but small opposi
tion. The principal argument used against them was that embodied by Sted-
man, the British historian, in the words : "If what was now proposed was
a right measure, it ought to have been adopted at first, and before the sword
was drawn ; on the other hand, if the claims of the mother country over her
colonies were originally worth contending for, the strength and resources of
the nation were not yet so far exhausted, as to justify ministers in relinquish
ing them without a further struggle." Scarcely had Lord North's resolu
tions been adopted, when came news from Versailles that confirmed the
worst fears of that statesman. It was to the effect that Benjamin Franklin,
Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee, American commissioners to the court of
His Christian Majesty, had obtained the recognition of the independence of
the United States, and that an alliance, offensive and defensive, had been
perfected between the greatest European rival of Great Britain, and her
revolting colonies. The treaty stipulated that, should war ensue between
France and England, it should be made a common cause, that neither France
nor America should make peace without the consent of the other, nor
should either lay down its arms until the independence of the colonies
should be established.

No sooner did the English ministry learn of the conclusion of this treaty,
than it dispatched post haste to America, a copy of North's bill, intending
to pave the way for the peace commission and also to forestall the effect of
the French alliance. Immediately upon the arrival of the document at New
York, Governor Tryon had copies printed and sent throughout the country
for circulation. He even had the inconceivable impudence to send copies to

THE PEACE COMMISSION THE FRENCH ALLIANCE. 169

Washington, accompanied by a personal letter to the commander, requesting
that they be communicated to the army. Washington sent them, instead, to
Congress, with the comment that the time for such negotiation had passed,
and that nothing short of independence should form a basis of peace negotia
tions. Congress took the same view, and determined in advance to hold no
conference with the commission and enter into no peace negotiations, until
the fleets and armies should be withdrawn from America, or the independ
ence of the colonies expressly recognized. On the following day, April 23d,
Congress passed resolutions recommending that the various colonies should
offer amnesty to such of their citizens as had levied war against the United
States and should return to their allegiance on or before the i6th of June
following. Copies of these resolutions were printed in English and Ger
man, and ordered to be distributed throughout the land. Washington was
not given to joking ; he was naturally a serious man, and the heavy respon
sibility which he bore tended to heighten his gravity. We cannot, however,
but believe, that, when he penned the following lines to Governor Tyron, he
must have smiled at the clever argumoituiti ad hominem which they con
veyed :

"SiR: Your letter of the i/th and a triplicate of the same, were duly
received. I had the pleasure of seeing the drafts of the two bills before
those sent by you came to hand ; and I can assure you they were allowed to
have a free currency among the officers and men under my command, in
whose fidelity to the United States I have the most perfect confidence.
The enclosed Gazette, published the 24th at Yorktown, will show you that
it is the wish of Congress that they should have an unrestrained circulation.
I take the liberty to transmit to you a few copies of a resolution of Congress
of the 23d instant, and to request that you will be instrumental in communi
cating its contents, so far as in may be in your power, to the persons who
are the objects of its operations. The benevolent purpose it is intended to
answer will, I persuade myself, sufficiently recommend it to your candor.

" I am, Sir, &c. "

The manifesto of Great Britain had little or no effect in moving the
public. In Rhode Island, the copies which came into the colony were
burned under the gallows, by the public executioner; even-where its conces
sions were regarded as a sign of weakening, and it defeated its o\vn aims,
encouraging the confidence of some in every colony, who were somewhat
fearful for the result. Early in May came the news of the French alliance.
Its effect upon America was indescribable. The tories were dumb with
apprehension ; the patriots wild with joy. Everywhere bells rang, cannon
pealed, fires blazed, and all restraint was cast off, in the universal delight of
the hour. At Valley Eorge a banquet was given by the officers ; Washing
ton was toasted and cheered, and, when at last he left the room, mounted
his horse, and rode down the lines to headquarters, every regiment united in

I/O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

loud huzzas, and he was repeatedly constrained to halt and uncover, in recog
nition of the spontaneous tribute. As Irving says: "Gates and Mifflin,
if they were in the camp at the time, must have seen enough to convince
them that the commander in chief was supreme in the affections of the
army."

General Sir William Howe had long been discontented with his treat
ment by the British ministry ; he deemed that his recommendations and
advice were not respectfully considered, and that his requests for reinforce
ments and supplies did not elicit the prompt response which they deserved.
Hence, during the winter of 1778, he tendered his resignation to the minis
ter of war; in May he received notification that the same had been ac
cepted, and, Sir Henry Clinton being ordered to relieve him, he surrendered
command on the nth of May, and departed for England. Later in the
season Admiral Lord Howe imitated him, and the maritime command
passed into other hands. There is no question that there was much in
General Howe's conduct of the war to justify the criticisms that were freely
made upon him. He lacked decision and activity ; he was prone, by his
easy habit, to fail of following up an advantage to a decisive end. Again
and again he might have crushed an enemy already defeated, but always
moved so deliberately as to give time for recuperation and re array. Such
was the case on Long island; at Throg's neck; at Brandy wine. His brother
presented, in every particular, an entire contrast to Sir William, and his
resignation was a great loss to the British cause in America.

No sooner had Clinton taken command at Philadelphia, than there were
evident indications of a design to abandon that city. He had, in fact,
received orders to remove his army and fleet from that place, as being unten
able in the event of the arrival of a French fleet; to mass his army at New
York, and to confine himself, for the time being, to waging a predatory
warfare upon the adjacent colonies. These instructions at such a time were
foolish and blind to a degree almost beyond belief. England held out with
one hand the olive branch of peace; with persuasive smile she allured her
erring children to return ; in the other she held the scourge, and, while she
caressed and fondled, bea>t with the most stinging of weapons. Had she
found the colonies ever so well disposed for the dishonorable peace pro
posed, the burning houses, the pillaged farms, the bleeding victims who fell
unarmed before the silent bayonets of her authorized robbers and marauders,
would have forever dispelled the possibility.

Receiving report of the preparations for a movement from Philadelphia,
Lafayette was detached with twenty-one hundred chosen men, to hover about
the city, obtain useful information regarding the movements of the enemy,
check his marauding parties, and be prepared to assail his rear when the
evacuation should at length be made. Observing the approach of Lafay
ette, Clinton determined to entrap him, and to this end detached General

THE PEACE COMMISSION THE FRENCH ALLIANCE. 171

Grant, with five thousand men. Lafayette was posted about eleven miles
from Philadelphia. Between him and the main body of the patriot army,
flowed the Schuylkill ; behind him, the road divided, leading, on the one
hand, to Matson's ford, on the other to Valley Forge, by way of Sweden's ford.
He had taken his position with good judgment, and no precaution was
omitted to guard against surprise. The duty of guarding the road to White
Marsh, was committed to six hundred Pennsylvania militia, and it was along
this road that Grant's men made a night advance, intending to get to the
rear of the American position. The militia, with characteristic disregard of
orders, had moved to the rear, and the road was quite unguarded. Early
in the morning Lafayette was apprised of the approach of the red coats, and
discovered that Sweden's ford was already held by them in force. In a very
short time he was certain to be hopelessly surrounded. His action in this
emergency was cool and admirably well considered. He threw out bodies
of men to appear before the enemy in order of battle, as if a regular
engagement were intended. Grant, preparing for such an event, checked
his advance, and Lafayette drew off his main body by Matson's ford, his
advanced parties followed in safety, and the British general appreciated the
stratagem only in time to reach the river as the artillery was passing over,
and to find Lafayette so placed upon the opposite bank as to forbid pursuit.
This masterly extrication of his force from a grave peril, greatly raised La
fayette in the esteem of his commander and of the people. Washington
and his aides, alarmed by the firing, had hastened from Valley Forge to a
hill upon the banks of the Schuylkill, and, by the aid of their glasses, were
witnesses of the peril and escape of the force.

In the meantime the British peace commission had arrived at Philadel
phia. It was as badly constituted as could well be imagined. A fashionable
and elegant young peer — Lord Carlisle — was at its head ; associated with
him were William Kden, a man of strong anti-American prejudices, and
George Johnstone, an opposition member of parliament, whom Irving pro
nounces to have been its most valuable member.

The commissioners reached Philadelphia on the 6th of June, and found
the city in the bustle and confusion which preceded its evacuation. At this
they were much chagrined, as it not only indicated that they had not been
taken completely into the confidence of the cabinet, but promised to weaken
their influence and put them to much personal inconvenience. Indeed, John-
stone declared that, had he known of the orders for the evacuation, he should
not have undertaken the mission. As the event proved, all might as well
have spared themselves the trouble. Having intended at first only to com
municate to Congress an announcement of their presence and readiness to
treat, they were compelled to hasten proceedings. Hence Clinton com
municated with Washington, requesting a passport which should permit the
secretary of the commission to visit Yorktown, and bear a letter to Con-

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

gress. Not desiring to take this responsibility, Washington forwarded the
request to Congress, and the commission, without awaiting a reply, sent to
that body by post, copies of the conciliatory acts, the credentials of the com
missioners, and a letter intended to forward negotiations. The latter charged
France with being the secret enemy both of England and America, which
charge caused great excitement, and drew forth an answer which stated that
only a desire to prevent an unnecessary effusion of blood, could induce the
Congress to consider a communication containing matter so disrespectful to
the king of France, but announcing, as well, a readiness to treat, when Great
Britain, as a pledge of her sincerity, should have withdrawn her armies and
navy from America, or expressly acknowledged the independence of the
United States. This, in effect, announced the failure of the commission, but
the sapient men who composed it, were equal to the folly of making certain
failure doubly sure, by attempting to bribe General Joseph Reed, then a mem
ber of Congress, by the offer of £10,000, for "effectual services in their
behalf," and by intimating, in a letter to Robert Morris, that General Wash
ington and the president of Congress, might be substantially remembered
by Great Britain, did the negotiation prove effectual. Reed's proud answer
to the proposal, was: "I am not worth purchasing, but, such as I am, the
king of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it." These offers and hints
coming to the knowledge of Congress, all communication with the commis
sioners was broken off. The latter then turned their attention to the people,
and published addresses — one day conciliatory, the next full of threatenings
and slaughter, but these had no more effect than had the appeals to Con
gress. Hence the agents of the king came to the wise conclusion that, where
lead had failed to intimidate, words could have but little weight, and took
their departure for home, much mortified at their signal failure either to cor
rupt or cajole America*

BATTLE OF MONMOUTH — COURT-MARTIAL OF LEE. 173

CHAPTER XXI.

BATTLE OF MONMOUTH-COURT-MARTIAL OF LEE

PENDING the negotiation of the commissioners, Clinton had very much
reduced his force in Philadelphia. A large detachment had gone to
the West Indies for service against the French ; another had been sent tc
Florida; a large number of troops had proceeded to New York by water,
accompanying the stores and baggage, and somewhat less than ten thousand
of the effective line remained. On the I7th of June, Washington called 3
council of war to consult as to the plan of operations to be adopted in con
nection with the evacuation now evidently imminent. General Charles Lee
had been exchanged by the British for General Prescott, and took part in the
council. Washington was decidedly in favor of an attack upon Clinton.
His own force was numerically greater than that of the British and he could
not conceive that a better time for striking an effective blow would evef
come. Lee was strongly opposed to any attack, holding that it was very
unwise to run risl: of defeat, when the co-operation of France might soon
be looked for. Greene, Wayne, and Cadwalader held with Washington,
while Lafayette took a middle course, and advised a partial, but not a general-
engagement. Early in the morning of the i8th, Clinton began the evacua
tion, and by 10 o'clock his rear had crossed the Delaware, and was in New
Jersey. Washington at once detached a force to annoy the enemy's rear,
and another, under Arnold, to take possession of Philadelphia. Clinton's
line of march lay directly up the Delaware to a point beyond Trenton, and
Washington was obliged to make an extensive circuit, crossing the river at
Corycll's ferry, in order to gain the high ground of New Jersey, where he
might choose a policy of action or defense. On the 25th of June, the British
army was moving toward Monmouth court house, and Washington deter
mined to risk an engagement upon his own judgment. Detachments, amount
ing in the aggregate to about four thousand men, were already hanging upon
the flanks and rear of the enemy. These he reinforced with one thousand
picked men under Wayne. The advance thus amounted to five thousand
men. Washington decided to place it under the command of a major-gen
eral. The duty belonged of right to Lee, as the ranking major-general, but
he, having opposed an action, was seized with a fit of the sulks, and volun-

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

tarily resigned the command to Lafayette, much to the satisfaction of the
commander in chief. Lafayette proceeded, with orders to join the advance,
to give the enemy every practicable annoyance, and to attack his left flank
and rear in force or by detachment, as seemed best. Scarcely had Lafayette
set out, when Lee, seeing that there was to be serious duty, earnestly
requested the command. Washington, desiring to do justice to Lee's claims,
without hurting the feelings of Lafayette, ordered the former forward with a
reinforcement of two brigades. His rank would of course give him command,
but he was expressly instructed not to interfere with any plan which Lafay
ette might have already formed. In the meantime Washington moved
his main body forward, that he might be ready to support the advance in
the case of necessity. Night fell; the enemy encamped near Monmouth
court house, and Lee five miles distant, at Engletown. Washington rode
forward to reconnoitre, and, seeing that, if Clinton were given time to march
but ten miles, he would be in a position to make an attack extremely diffi
cult, gave distinct orders to Lee to attack him early in the morning. In the
morning Washington learned that the enemy was in motion and repeated
his former orders to Lee. Skirmishing began early, and Lee advanced to
the support of the skirmishing parties, leading about four thousand men.
Reaching Freehold, he saw what he took to be a British covering party,
marching through the woods. He detailed Wayne to engage it, while he
should made a circuit with the main body, and cut it off from the British
column. He had made a mistake ; it was not a covering party, but the
whole rear division of the British army. Washington was moving along
the road toward Freehold, when he was apprised, by the sound of cannon
ading, that the battle had begun, and immediately made disposition to sup
port his advance.

Before making the attack, Lee had sent word to Washington that he
was about to engage a covering party of the enemy. Judge, then, of the
surprise of the latter, when he met terrified stragglers, then entire regiments,
in full retreat. He was dumfounded, and, ordering the officers, as he
passed, to rally their men, spurred on at the top of his speed. Arrived at
a rising ground near Freehold, he met Lee, retreating, with the main body.
Let Irving tell what ensued :

" What is the meaning of this, sir? " demanded he in the sternest, and
even fiercest tone, as he rode up.

Lee, for a moment, was disconcerted and hesitated in making a reply,
for Washington's aspect, according to Lafayette, was terrible.

"I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and confusion," was
again demanded, still more vehemently.

Lee, stung by the manner, more than the words of the demand, made
an angry reply, which provoked still sharper expressions, that have been
variously reported. He attempted a hurried explanation. His troops had

BATTLE OF MONMOUTH COURT-MARTIAL OF LEE. 175

been thrown into disorder by contradictory intelligence ; by disobedience of
orders ; by the meddling and blundering of individuals ; and he had not felt
disposed, he said, to beard the whole British army, with troops in such a
situation.

"I have certain information," rejoined Washington, "that it was
merely a strong covering party."

"That maybe, but it was stronger than mine, and I did not think
proper to run such a risk."

"I am very sorry," replied Washington, "that you undertook the
command unless you meant to fight the enemy."

" I did not think it prudent to bring on a general engagement."

"Whatever your opinion may have been," replied Washington, dis
dainfully, " I expected my orders would have been obeyed."

All this passed very quickly. The immediate and pressing necessity
was to change the fortune of the day. The ground where Washington
had met Lee was favorable for a stand, being elevated and capable of
approach from in front, only over a narrow causeway. The troops were
hastily formed upon the high ground, with batteries upon the height, and,
masked by the woods, on the left, for their support. Lee expected to be
relieved, but Washington ordered him to take command of this position,
while he himself formed the main body upon the next elevation.

A warm cannonade held the enemy for a time, and Washington had.
formed his reserve in an advantageous position between \voods and a morass,
before Lee was directly assailed. The latter made a gallant resistance, and
was himself the last to leave the ground, when obliged to give way ; his
troops retired in good order, across the causeway leading to the position of
the American right, under command of Lord Stirling. The British
advanced, but, finding themselves warmly opposed by the American front,
changed their tactics and made an effort to turn the left, where General
Greene was in command. Here again were the}' checked, Greene's artillery
doing great execution upon them, and also enfilading the British force in
front of the left. General Wayne, advancing with an infantry reserve,
opened so hot and well directed a fire as to compel the enemy to withdraw
to the ground from which they had driven Lee. Though this position was
very strong, Washington determined to assail it, and advanced his artillery
to the causeway, while he detached forces, on either hand, to attack the
enemy's flanks. The battle was renewed on this ground with great spirit,
and was continued until night fell, and left the Americans with the advan
tage upon their side. Two hours more of daylight would have been enough
to make the result decisive. The American force slept on their arms,
Washington himself lying, wrapped in a blanket, at the foot of a tree, with
Lafayette beside him. During the night, however, the British, sending their
wounded in advance, deserted the field, and, as it was certain that they

176 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

must reach the strong ground about Middletown, before they could be over
taken, and the advantage would then be all on their side, it was deemed wise
not to attempt a pursuit. The Americans lost in the battle eight officers
and sixty-one privates, killed ; and one hundred and sixty wounded. The
burying parties found four British officers, and two hundred and forty-five
non-commissioned officers and privates, dead on the field, and many fresh
graves. About one hundred prisoners were also taken, most of whom were
wounded. Lafayette says of the battle : " Never wras General Washington
greater in victory, than in this action. His presence stopped the retreat.
His disposition fixed the victory. His fine appearance on horseback ; his
calm courage, roused by the animation produced by the vexation of the
morning, gave him the air best calculated to excite enthusiasm."

The conduct of Lee had excited the most decided disapproval of Wash
ington, yet it is more than likely that a frank explanation, on the part of the
former, might have smoothed the matter over, for he certainly was outnum
bered, and he afterward made the very plausible explanation that his inten
tion in retreating was only to form upon more advantageous ground, and
that the spot where he met Washington was that which he had selected for
his stand. He did not, however, choose so wise a course, but, stung by his
public rebuke, wrote the commander in chief a very impertinent letter, call
ing for an explanation of ''the very singular expressions" used by the latter
in their encounter. Washington answered in a dignified tone, when Lee
replied in a still more objectionable manner, demanding an investigation,
and indicating a preference for a court-martial, rather than a simple court of
inquiry. Washington promised to gratify this desire, and, at the earliest
moment caused the arrest of Lee, and preferred against him the following
charges :

First. For disobedience of orders in not attacking the enemy on the
28th of June, agreeably to repeated instructions.

Secondly. For misbehavior before the enemy, on the same day, in
making an unnecessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat.

Thirdly. For disrespect to the commander in chief, in two letters.

A court-martial was at once appointed, and sat from day to day, follow
ing the march of the army, from the 4th of July to the 1 2th of August.
The testimony revealed extenuating circumstances, and, in the end, Lee was
found guilty upon all the charges, the sole amendment being to strike out the
word shameful from the second. He was sentenced to suspension for one
year, subject to the approval of Congress, and, that body having somewhat
reluctantly confirmed the judgment, the sentence went into effect. Though
he had courted investigation, and had requested that it be by court-martial,
he chose, from the moment of his arrest, to pose as a persecuted and
injured man. He was loud and constant in his abuse of Washington, while
the latter, so far as possible, avoided mentioning his name in public, and,

BATTLE OF MONMOUTH COURT-MARTIAL OF LEE. I?7

when compelled to use it, spoke of him with the greatest forbearance.
As Lee's name does not again appear in connection with the conduct
of the war, it may be well to dismiss him, with a few words regarding his
further history. Upon the confirmation of his sentence, he purchased and
retired to a plantation in Virginia, having previously been wounded by Col
onel Laurens, one of Washington's aides, in a duel arising from a particu
larly abusive remark concerning the commander in chief. The house in
which he lived upon this plantation, was little more than a shell, having no
partitions to divide it. Lee, with a grim humor which was one of his char
acteristics, chalked off lines upon the floor, dividing the house into sleeping
rooms, drawing and dining rooms, etc., and, as he said, had the advantage of
sitting in one corner and overlooking the whole, without the trouble of
rising. Becoming tired of a country life, he made efforts to sell his planta
tion, and, while in Philadelphia upon that mission, was seized with a fever and
died. The closing lines of his will were these: "I desire most earnestly
that I may not be buried in any church or churchyard, or within a mile of
any Presbyterian or any Baptist meeting-house, for, since I have resided in
this country, I have kept so much bad company while living, that I do not
choose to continue it when dead." He was, however, buried with military
honors in the cemetery of Christ church, Philadelphia.

GEORGE \\ASH1NGTON.

CHAPTER XXII.

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET- ATTEMPT AGAINST NEWPORT— STONY POINT.

\FTER the battle of Monmouth, Washington, apprehending a British
movement against the Hudson, forced his march in that direction,
coming to a halt, for the purpose of resting his men, only when, having
reached Paramus, he learned that the enemy, dividing his army into three
divisions, had gone into camp upon Long island, Staten island, and New
York island. It was while still at Paramus, and on the night of the I3th
of July, that he received from Congress, notice of the arrival of a French
fleet, under Admiral the Count D'Estaing, with directions to communicate
with the latter, and concert a plan for co-operation with him. The fleet
consisted of six ships of the line and twelve frigates, and brought a land
force of four thousand men. Leaving Toulon on the I2th of April, the
adversity of the wind had prolonged the passage to eighty-five days. It
finally dropped anchor, off the mouth of the Delaware, on the 8th of July,
just too late to entrap the British fleet, which had sailed to New York,
D'Estaing, immediately upon his arrival, sent a very courteous letter to
Washington, from which the following is an extract: "I have the honor of
imparting to your Excellency, the arrival of the king's fleet, charged by His
Majesty with the glorious task of giving his allies, the United States of
America, the most striking proofs of his affection. Nothing can be wanting
in my happiness, if I can succeed in it. It is augmented by the considera
tion of concerting my operations with a general such as your Excellency.
The talents and great actions of General Washington have insured him, in
the eyes of Europe, the title, truly sublime, of Deliverer of America."

Accompanying D'Estaing, were the newly and first appointed French
minister to the United States, and Mr. Silas Deane, one of the American
commissioners who had negotiated the alliance. These were sent up to
Philadelphia in a frigate, and the remainder of the squadron sailed along (he
coast to Sandy Hook, where, having arrived, D'Estaing discovered ;he

'••" C

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET NEWPORT STONY POINT. 179

English fleet snugly anchored in the harbor. The British were very much
excited, and the people of New York city were, as usual, in a condition
bordering on the hysterical. All supposed that the French armament
would engage the British at once, and such was D'Estaing's intention, until
he discovered that there was not sufficient water on the bar to permit of
the passage of his heaviest ships of the line. Had such a passage been
possible, the result would have been one of the most desperate battles in
history, for, the narrow limits of the bay forbidding any manoeuvering for an
advantage, the fight must have been one to the death.

A frank and cordial correspondence followed, between the French com
mander and General Washington. The latter sent his aides, Colonels
Laurens and Hamilton, aboard the fleet, and a French officer returned the
civility by a visit to the camp. This interchange of visits was the means of
bringing about not only a cordial feeling, but a clear understanding of the
plans to be adopted. An attempt upon New York being deemed infeas-
ible, it was determined to make a concerted movement by land and sea
against Newport, Rhode Island, then held by the British under General
Pigot. To the command of the movement by land, General Sullivan was
appointed, and at once went on board the fleet to concert measures with
D'Estain£f. It was then arranged that the fleet should enter the harbor

t> £">

and land French troops on the west side of the island, while the Americans,
under cover of a frigate, were to attack from the opposite side. The Amer
icans, under Sullivan, with Greene second in command, were somewhat
delayed by the non-arrival of Massachusetts and New Hampshire militia,
and were obliged to delay the movement, but, on the 8th of August, hearing
that the militia was near at hand, Sullivan signalled the fleet, and the French
vessels, passing the batteries with little damage, entered the harbor. The
militia, did not, however, come just at the time expected, and the attack
was deferred until the next da}'. Pigot had in the meantime withdrawn his
troops from the outer lines, and Sullivan at once took possession of the
works so deserted, thus, as the event proved, offending the count's ideas of
military punctilio. The latter refused to answer Sullivan's letter of explana
tion, and evidently thought that an effort had been made to rob him of his
share in the enterprise.

After the departure of D'Estaing from Sandy Hook, there had arrived
at New York four of twelve ships of the line, which had been sent from
England under Admiral Byron, to reinforce Lord Howe, and had been
scattered by storms. Howe, though still inferior to D'Fstaing, resolved to
attempt the relief of Newport and, sailing at once, arrived off that place
while D'Estaing was still in a state of ruffled dignity, came close to the
shore and signaled Pigot, then drew off to the vicinity of Point Sudity, at the
entrance of the channel, and lay to. D'Estaing, having the wind in his
favor, sailed out to engage the fleet ; all da}' the hostile vessels manoeuvred

I8O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

for advantage of wind and position, and, at nightfall, had quite disappeared
from sight. Sullivan was thus left in a most disagreeable position. His
force was not large enough to attempt an independent attack, nor to be
quite safe in case a sortie were made against him. He determined, how
ever, to attempt holding his position until he heard from the French fleet.

On the 1 4th, four days after his departure, D'Estaing re-appeared. No
action had taken place, save between some individual vessels of the opposed
fleets. A terrific storm had arisen, and, Howe having retired to New
York in a sadly shattered condition, D'Estaing had put back to Newport in
a plight not much to be preferred. He at once dispatched a letter to
Sullivan, in which he declared his intention, in obedience to orders, to put
into Boston and refit. Sullivan sent Greene and Lafayette aboard the flag
ship with an answer, representing the certainty of carrying Newport with
ease, and remonstrating against deserting so favorable an enterprise.
Expressions of good will and of a desire for harmony were added, but
D'Estaing was bound by his letter of instructions, and sailed for Boston,
from which port he later proceeded to the West Indies, taking no further
part in the campaign. Sullivan then attempted to raise five thousand New
England volunteers, which he deemed would justify him in making an
assault, but the militia, disheartened by the departure of the French, would
not respond, and, on the night of the 28th, he retired to the northern
end of the island, covering his rear and entrenching. Early in the morning
the British gave pursuit, and engaged the American rear guard, which
retreated slowly and in order to where the main body was drawn up in
array. The enemy took possession of Quaker hill, a mile from the Amer
ican lines, and the day was spent until two o'clock in cannonading and
skirmishing. Then the British advanced to an assault, attempting to
turn the American right. After a sharp engagement of half an hour they
were repulsed, and retired to Quaker hill, to continue cannonading during
the remainder of the day and night. The next day was spent in the same
manner, and, on the night of August 3ist, Sullivan withdrew, unobserved, to
the main land. This retreat was made none too soon for, on the following
day, arrived Sir Henry Clinton, with force enough to have annihilated the
American army.

The faikire of the movement against Newport, for which success had
been confidently anticipated, was very mortifying to all interested in the
American cause, and, connected with this disappointment, was the grave
danger which menaced the good understanding of France and America, by
reason of the ill feeling engendered by the action of D'Estaing. It required
all the tact and address of Washington to soothe the feelings of the officers
of the army and the fleet, and to prevent a public discussion of the respon
sibility for the failure.

Washington wrote to D'Estaing a very delicate letter regarding the

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET NEWPORT STONY POINT. l8l

affair, in which he said: "If the deepest regret, that the best concerted
enterprise and bravest exertions should have been rendered fruitless by a
disaster, which human prudence was incapable of foreseeing or preventing,
can alleviate disappointment, you may be assured that the whole continent
sympathizes with you. It will be a consolation to you to reflect that the
thinking part of mankind do not form their judgment from events ; and that
their equity will ever attach equal glory to those actions which deserve suc
cess, and those which have been crowned with it. It is in the trying circum
stances to which your excellency has been exposed, that the virtues of a
great mind are displayed in their brightest luster, and that a general's charac
ter is better known than in the hour of victory. It was yours by every title
which can give it, and the adverse element which robbed you of your prize,
can never deprive you of the glory due to you." This letter was not merely
a politic salve to the wounded pride of an all}', but an expression of strict
truth. D'Kstaing had acted under orders which imperatively directed him
in case of disaster to his fleet or the appearance upon the coast of a superior
British armament, to retire for refitting or protection to Boston.

The remainder of the campaign of i/;S may be very briefly dismissed.
Indeed, from this point it will be unnecessary and impossible to follow the
events of the war so closely as heretofore. Washington was thenceforth
devoted more to the direction of the war, less to the command of troops in
the field than before, and hence a very general view of events will suffice.
Sir Henry Clinton carried out his orders, and waged a most bitter and dis
graceful predatory war against the northern and middle colonies. General
Grey, a cruel and bloodthirsty officer, who might have adorned the army of
Nero, was the commander of several expeditions directed to the capture of
stores and supplies. He always moved to surprise, and was wont to com
pel his men to remove the flints and priming of their guns, and, should he
succeed in coming ui.seen upon an unarmed and sleeping guard or escort,
the work of death was thorough and silent, little quarter being ever given.
One of the exploits of this class was the surprise of three companies of foot
and a troop of horse, belonging to the command of Count Pulaski. These
men were sleeping in their houses in New Jersey. Two hundred and fifty
British took advantage of information given by a deserter, and ascended the
river by night, surrounded the houses and attacked the naked and unarmed
men. The official report of Captain Ferguson, who commanded, tells the
result: " It being a night attack," said he, "little quarter of course could
be given, sv tJicre iccrc only five prisoners.'" Grey, the most fiendish of the
assassins who performed such service for the crown, was later elevated to
the peerage, and his son was prime minister of England.

Such movements occupied the British regulars at the North. The only
other important event of the latter portion of the campaign, was one well
fitted to be recorded, column beside column, with this predatory warfare ;

1 82 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

that was the descent from Canada upon the Wyoming valley, and the horri
ble devastation that followed; savage Indians and more savage tories entered
the almost unprotected valley, and, overpowering the hasty levies of old
men and boys, burned, robbed, and butchered, tortured and outraged, spar
ing neither childhood nor age, man or woman. The outrage — the horrible
crime — of that massacre lay at the doors of the British cabinet, which allowed
the employment of such means of war. The story sickens one who reads,
and its deep disgrace can never be wiped from the British escutcheon.

In September Admiral Byron, having collected and refitted his squad
ron, put to sea and sailed for Boston, hoping to entrap D'Estaing. He
found the French admiral still in port, and was preparing for an attack, when
he again encountered so violent a storm as to compel him to put about and
take refuge at Newport for repairs. D'Estaing then sailed for the West
Indies, first issuing a proclamation to the French inhabitants of Canada,
calling upon them to resume their allegiance to the king of France. Sir
Henry Clinton in the meantime greatly diminished his force at New York,
by detachment, one large body of troops being sent to the West Indies,
another, under Colonel Campbell, who commanded in Florida, to co-oper
ate with General Prevost, in the reduction of Georgia. This latter enter
prise was accomplished in the face of very slight opposition, and, with the
middle of January, 1/79, closed the active operations of the year. It being
evident that the South was to be an object of attack during the following
year, Major-general Lincoln was assigned to command in that department,
his splendid service in the Burgoyne campaign having won him unbounded
confidence.

Early in December, Washington placed his men in winter quarters, in a
line extending from Long Island sound to the Delaware, so posted as to
give the best protection against the marauding of the British. He per
fected an excellent code of signals, and, though constantly prepared for
action, passed the winter unmolested. At the close of the campaign Lafay
ette had expressed a desire to return, for a time, at least, to I7 ranee, as there
was now certainty of war between France and England. He had, more
over, devised a plan for persuading France to unite with America in a grand
concerted movement against the Canadian ports from Quebec to Detroit,
thus wresting the Canadas from Great Britain. Washington disapproved
of this plan, for the reason that it would require more men, even considering
the assistance of France, than the colonies could afford to devote to such an
enterprise, and, more important still, recognizing that such an effort on the
part of France would be for the conquest of Canada,- a possibility which he
could not but regard with jealousy. He communicated his fears to Con
gress and that body declined to commit itself to the plan, though it granted
the marquis an indefinite leave of absence, expressing, at the same time,
high appreciation of his services to America, and the best wishes for his

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET NEWPORT STONY POINT. 183

success at home. The young nobleman, therefore, left America, much
regretted by all; most by Washington, to 'whom he had been so warmly and
faithfully attached.

The winter wore away, — very quickly to Washington, who was busy
and engrossed. The secondary effect of the alliance with France was
becoming apparent, in a fatal apathy and inactivity. There was a tendency to
settle back and view the war in a disinterested manner, relying upon France
to carry it through. This spirit did not alone prevail among the people ; it
reached the hall of Congress, and, as usual, it became his duty to arouse
the people and the Congress as well, to a sense of the very grave im
portance of continued and even increased activity. During the latter por
tion of the winter Washington was busy in projecting a plan of operations
against the Indians and tories of the North. His early experience had
made him a master in organizing and carrying on a war of this kind, and he
selected men and methods for the service that produced the best results, as
a brief recital of the enterprise will show. The first expedition set out
from Fort Schuyler on the I9th of April, 1779, and consisted of about six
hundred men. Hy a rapid march it succeeded in reaching the town of the
Onandagas, before any hint of danger had come to the Indians, and destroyed
the entire town ; then it returned to the fort without the loss of a man.
The second and by far more important movement, was conceived and exe
cuted in retaliation for the Wyoming massacre. Karly in the summer three
thousand men assembled in the Wyoming valley, and, placed under the
command of (ieneral Sullivan, penetrated the country of the Senecas.
This adventure did not, like the other, result in a surprise. Tories and
Indians, — one thousand five hundred of the former and some two hundred
of the latter — commanded by the very men who had led the Wyoming
part}', were assembled to resist the advance. On the 29th of August a
battle was fought at Newton, which Sullivan won with ease. He then
pushed on, destroying everything before him, as far as the (ienesee river.
The Indians and tories took refuge with the Hritish garrison at Fort Niag
ara, and Sullivan returned to Pennsylvania, and, compelled by failing health,
retired from the army. The third expedition of the Indian campaign, set
out from Pittsburg, moved up the Allegheny, and was as successful as the
others. The combined effect of all was to whip both tories and Indians into
enforced submission, and it was only at rare intervals and in unimportant
numbers, that they ever forgot the lesson.

Having thus anticipated events, in giving a brief summary of operations
against the Indians, it is necessary to return to the main army, under the
command of Washington. The usual embarrassments arising from the faulty

o <-*

organization of the army, defaults of Congress and the colonies in paying
the men, disorganized commissariat and quartermasters' departments, etc.,
had been met by the commander in chief, and so far overcome that he found

184 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

himself in the spring, at the head of a larger and more effective army than
any with which he had ever opened a campaign. The war was to be again
prosecuted in two quarters ; the South was evidently to be the scene of one
campaign ; the North of a second. Sir Henry Clinton's force, aside from the
army of the South, was not far from seventeen thousand men, all of whom,
save those occupying Rhode Island, were in New York. Against this army,
Washington had — excluding the troops engaged in the South and Sullivan's
army which had proceeded against the Indians — sixteen thousand troops —
three thousand in Rhode Island ; thirteen thousand in cantonments between
•jhe Hudson and the Delaware. The force of the armies was so nearly
equal that neither cared to risk an engagement, save with a very decided
advantage of position, and, as no such advantage was offered, the campaign
In the North was from first to last defensive on the part of the Americans,
dnd one of detachment on the enemy's side. Most of the British
movements were merely armed marauds, so similar in conception and detail,
and so numerous as to forbid description in these pages. They were alike
In being cruel, bloody, and licentious, involving little risk, and effecting
often nothing more than the robbery and ruin of defenceless persons, whom
some tory had denounced for adherence to the patriot cause. The principal
exception to this mode of warfare which was the rule, was the expedition
undertaken by Clinton against the American forts upon the Hudson. After
ihe destruction of' Forts Montgomery and Clinton in 1777, ground had been
sought for more secure defenses, which should, in fact, protect the great
water way of the north from hostile control. King's ferry, at some distance
below West Point, was selected, for the double reason that it was an important
strategic point, and one easily capable of defense. On the west side of the
river, rose Stony Point, an abrupt and difficult promontory, while into the
stream from the east bank extended Verplanck's point. A small but strong
work had been erected upon the latter, and was garrisoned by seventy men,
under Captain Armstrong. A more extensive and important work was in
process of construction upon Stony Point.

Late in May, Washington saw unmistakable signs of an intention
on the part of Clinton to move up the Hudson, no doubt primarily
against these twin forts. On the 3Oth of May, Sir Henry set out from
New York, with an armament of seventy sail and one hundred and
fifty flat boats. Verplanck's and Stony Points lay first in his path,
but the strength with which he moved, indicated to Washington that
some ulterior aim was in view. This was, in truth, the case, his design
being to capture and garrison those and other strong posts in the High
lands, and gain and hold control of the Hudson. On the morning of the
3 ist, Clinton landed his men in two divisions, one about eight miles from
Verplanck's Point ; the other on the western shore, about three miles above
Stony Point. The few men in the unfinished works abandoned them at the

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET NEWPORT STONY POINT. 185

approach of the enemy, and the British took possession in the evening of
the 3 1st, dragged cannon and mortars to the summit during the night, and
in the morning, opened a tremendous cannonade upon Fort Lafayette, as the
works upon Verplanck's Point had beeo named. At the same time the
vessels in the river opened fire upon it, and the force landed the day before,
approached it from the rear. Under the circumstances there was but
one course open to the little garrison, — to surrender at discretion, and this
was adopted. Clinton placed strong garrisons in both forts, and hastened
the completion of that on Stony Point. Washington, in the mean time, so
disposed his troops as to render possible the protection of West Point, and
prosecuted the work of strengthening his defenses there with no less vigor
than Sir Henry Clinton devoted to those below. Finding the position of the
Americans too strong to be assailed with safety, Clinton returned to New
York, and sent out an expedition to ravage Connecticut, hoping to accom
plish the double purpose of punishing a people who had been especially
active in forwarding the Revolution, and of tempting the American force from
its stronghold, and laying the Hudson open to his designs. The notorious
tory governor, Tryon, now holding a king's commission as general, was
selected for the duty, and, with twenty-six hundred men, set out, captured
New Haven, destroying the vessels in its harbor, and large amounts of
ammunition and military stores, and sacked and burned the towns of Fair-
field and Norwalk. It was intended to proceed against New London, but
the prospect of opposition was such, that the force was withdrawn to the
sound to await reinforcements. Washington had not allowed all these out
rages to be committed, without making an effort to arrest them. As soon as
Tryon's expedition set out, he had detached General Heath with all the
men who could be safely spared from the Hudson, to thwart the enemy, in
his unknown mission, so far as might be possible. So great, however, were
the facilities for rapid movement possessed by the British, that Heath had
been unable to accomplish anything.

Pending Clinton's movement against Connecticut, the American com
mander planned no less an attempt than the re-capture of Stony Point
and Fort Lafayette. This could only be accomplished by surprise, and was,
at best, a very perilous undertaking. Washington finally determined to take
the risk, and arranged his plan for a night attack by a body of liglu infantry,
which should advance in silence, securing the sentinels as they went.
For the critical duty in hand he selected " Mad Anthony " Wayne, to whom
such a service was particularly grateful. It was arranged that the main
body of the army should follow Wayne at no great distance, prepared to
co-operate, and that a detachment should move down the east bank of the
river, and be in readiness to act against Fort Lafayette, so soon as Wayne,
in case of success, should turn the guns of Stony Point upon it.

About noon on July I5th, Wayne set out, from Sandy Beach, at the

1 86 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

head of about three hundred men. He had a hard march of fifteen miles
before him, over rugged hills and along the narrow passes of the Dunder-
berg. It was after nightfall when, safe and undiscovered, he reached a
halting place, about two miles from his objective point. Irving says that all
the dogs in the neighborhood had been privately made way with: at
all events, no one of them gave the signal of alarm by so much as a single
bark. A half an hour before midnight, the little party advanced, with fixed
bayonets, and unloaded guns, to meet victory or almost certain death, as
fortune might decree. Their guide was a negro, who had been many times
to the post, ostensibly to sell fruit. With him were two strong men, dis
guised as farmers. The countersign was given to the first sentinel, and,
while the negro talked with him, he was seized, bound, and gagged. Not a
sound. The troops were delayed at the morass, which was to be crossed
before the ascent could be begun. Then the men were divided into two
columns, each with a forlorn hope before it, which was charged with remov
ing the abatis upon the hill-side. Not until the Americans were close upon
the outworks of the fort, was their approach discovered; then there was
sharp skirmishing, the British making the noise with their muskets ; the
Americans doing the execution with their bayonets. The alarmed garrison
sprang to arms, and opened a tremendous fire upon their assailants, with
grape and musketry. They were, however, forced back. The gallant Fleury
struck the flag. Wayne received a shock from a spent ball, which struck
him in the head, and gave him all the sensations of a fatal wound. Stagger
ing, and about to fall, he was caught by a soldier, when he exclaimed :
" Carry me into the fort, and let me die at the head of my column! " Such
spirit as .was shown by every officer and man in the little attacking party,
was too much for the garrison, who surrendered at discretion. At day
break, the guns of the fort were turned upon the shipping, when the vessels
cut their cables and dropped down the river to a place of safety. Some
one blundered in the conduct of the party which moved against Fort La
fayette, and, though the fort was vigorously cannonaded, there was no co
operation, and it was not captured.

The storming and capture of Stony Point is justly esteemed one
of the most brilliant achievements in the War of Independence, and,
in boldness of device, and bravery of execution, compares favorably
with any like occurrence in history. The very unlikelihood of success
was the salvation of the plan ; it seemed so nearly impossible of accom
plishment, that the British were lulled to a false security, which was
their ruin. One of the last and most graceful acts of Charles Lee, was
to write a letter to Wayne, acknowledging the exceeding brilliancy of
his exploit, and warmly congratulating him upon it. This compliment has
an especial significance, when it is stated that Wayne was one of the most
damaging witnesses before the court-martial that tried, condemned, and

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET — NEWPORT — STONY POINT. l8/

sentenced Lee. Not the least honorable feature of the affair was, that,
though the Americans had received so great provocation, not a sol
dier of the garrison was killed or injured, after he ceased to resist.
The re-capture of Stony Point had the effect of checking the movement
against Connecticut. Clinton recalled the force which had been detailed
for that purpose, and again moved up the Hudson to regain his lost
ground, and compass an engagement with Washington, if such were prac
ticable. Again the prudent policy of the American commander confounded
the enemy. Finding that he could not maintain the fort at Stony Point,
with less than fifteen hundred men, which was a greater number than he
could afford to detach, Washington dismantled the works, removed the
artillery to West Point, and himself retired thither with his army, before
the advance of Clinton. The latter, not deeming it best to follow, returned
to New York.

Passing by the abortive attempt of New England partisans, to sur
prise the British at Penobscot, and the brilliant achievement of "Light-
Horse Harry" Lee, who surprised the British post at Paulus Hook,
and took one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners, with the loss of two men, it
is necessary to dismiss the campaign with a few words. Early in the
autumn, Clinton was reinforced by the arrival of a fleet, under Admiral
Arbuthnot, bringing three thousand fresh troops. About the same time
came news that the Count D'Estaing had arrived off the coast of Geor
gia, with a powerful fleet, fresh from victories won in the West Indies. A
combined movement against New York was again projected. Clinton
abandoned Rhode Island and the Hudson posts, and massed his entire army
in and about New York city. At the same time, Washington made a call
for militia, which he concentrated in considerable numbers, to act with the
army in co-operation with D'Estaing. The latter, however, decided to act
with Lincoln, for the recapture of Savannah. An investment, by regular
approaches, followed ; the works were stormed, and the American flag
twice placed upon them, but each time the assailants were driven back, and
finally gave up the effort, D'Estaing having lost six hundred killed, and
Lincoln nearly four hundred, while the garrison escaped with very small loss.
D'Estaing at once put to sea; his fleet was crippled by a storm ; he, with
part of his ships, returned to Erance ; the remainder to the West Indies.
This news reached the American camp in November; Washington dismissed
his militia, dispatched the troops of Virginia and the Carolinas to the South ;
placed a detachment of the army, under General Heath, in the Highlands,
and took the main body into winter quarters at Morristown, New Jersey.
In the meantime, the Southern army, under Lincoln, was in sad need of the
aid which Washington had sent. After the defeat at Savannah, it had
crossed into South Carolina, and against that colony, especially the city

1 88 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

of Charleston, Sir Henry Clinton and Lord Cornwallis sailed, on the 26th
of December, with several thousand men, in transports, convoyed by five
ships of the line, and a number of frigates. Knyphausen was left in com
mand at New York.

SIEGE AND FALL OF CHARLESTON — TARLETON'S BUTCHERY.

CHAPTER XXIII.

SIEGE AND FALL OF CHARLESTON-TARLETON'S BUTCHERY.

IT is now necessary to glance very briefly at the campaign in the South,
which, as Washington had no personal part in it, is only of collateral
significance. Lincoln was in command at Charleston, when General Clin
ton arrived at Tybec bay, on the Savannah, in the latter part of January.
On the nth of February, the greater part of the British army landed at a
point thirty miles below Charleston, leaving the fleet to make a circuit by
sea and appear before the city, while the army marched by land. The
enemy advanced slowly, fortifying many points as he went, and taking the
further precaution to direct the forwarding of reinforcements from Savannah
and New York. Charleston, standing upon an isthmus between the Ashley
and Cooper rivers, was weakly garrisoned, but Lincoln took every means to
strengthen its defences. He connected the two rivers, above the citv, b\* a

o J J

canal ; beyond this he placed two rows of abatis and a picketed ditch, and,
between the canal and the main works, threw up redoubts, so placed as to
flank an approaching enemy. The Governor at Charleston gave orders for
the mustering of the militia, and a small squadron of armed vessels was in
the harbor, to co-operate with Forts Moultrie and Johnston, for its defence.
On the 1 2th of March Clinton arrived, and posted his army upon Charles
ton neck, a few miles from the town. This condition of affairs being com
municated to Washington, he ordered the troops of Maryland and Delaware,
with a regiment of artillery, to reinforce Lincoln.

The next point in the British plan was to bring the vessels of the fleet
into the harbor, and thus be in a position to rake the batteries of the town.
The defence of Charleston really depended upon the prevention of this
movement, and the existence of a difficult bar at the entrance of the harbor
made it a very hazardous one, in the face of opposition. The American
commodore, Whipple, finding, by soundings, that he could not anchor
within three miles of the bar, gave up the idea of defending it, and

1 9O GEORGE WASHINGTON,

retired to a position in line with the forts. Admiral Arbuthnot effected the
passage on the 2Oth of March, having removed his guns to lighten the
vessels, and lay within the bar, engaged in replacing his artillery. Then
was the time when Charleston should have been evacuated, for its defence
was hopeless, but a letter from the commander in chief, intimating the desir
ability of abandoning the town in such an event, had been detained, and
came too late to influence Lincoln, who prepared for defence, and the
American vessels-of-war were sunk in line across the Cooper river.

The British were reinforced from Savannah, before the arrival of
the anxiously expected Northern troops. On the pth of April, Clin
ton completed his first parallel, within eight hundred yards of the Amer
ican lines, and, on the same day, Arbuthnot sailed past Fort Moultrie,
with little loss, and anchored inside, out of range of the guns of either
fort. Lincoln was then summoned to surrender, but returned a firm
refusal. About the same time General Woodford, with seven hundred Vir
ginia troops, passed into the city, from the north, by the only remain
ing way. On the I4th, Clinton detached Tarleton and Lieutenant-colonel
Webster to surprise the American cavalry, which served to keep open com
munication with the city. The party met with a signal success, killing or
capturing one hundred of the Americans, dispersing the remainder on foot,
and capturing four hundred horses. This completed the investment, and
placed retreat out of the question, yet Lincoln persisted in maintaining the
lines, and the British seemed content to proceed by approaches. Thus the
siege wore on, Lincoln having no substantial reason for hope, but deter
mined not to surrender so long as he might obtain delay. The garrison was
much fatigued, and many had been killed; supplies were not abundant; the
guns were many of them dismounted, and when, on May 7th, the British
gained possession of Mount Pleasant, and compelled the surrender of Fort
Moultrie, it seemed that resistance had ceased to be wise. By May I2th,
the third parallel was completed, within twenty yards of the American
works. These were three miles in extent, and to man them Lincoln had
but about one thousand troops, many of which were militia. On the I2th,
the citizens of Charleston presented a petition, urging Lincoln to surrender,
and terms of capitulation being proposed on the same day, he accepted
them. The town and all stores passed into the hands of the enemy. The
garrison, and such citizens as had assisted in the defence, became prisoners
of war ; the militia was paroled. The garrison was required to march out
and lay down their arms, before the fort, but no humiliation was attached to
the surrender. The British lost, during the siege, seventy-six men killed,
and one hundred and seventy-six wounded ; the casualties of the Americans
were not far from the same number. The fall of Charleston was a great
advantage to the British, as it was a most serious loss to the Americans.
The city was the principal mart of the South, and its fate seemed likely to

SIEGE AND FALL OF CHARLESTON TARLETON'S BUTCHERY. ig±

be decisive of that of all the country about. With Savannah already con
quered and Georgia secured, Charleston added to these, and the service of a
moderate army employed in encouraging loyalists and intimidating whigs,
Clinton was confident of reducing to submission, the South, from Virginia to
the Gulf, and, beyond mere submission, he had hopes of so arousing the
1 'yalty of the tories, as to derive positive support and assistance from that
quarter.

Immediately after the surrender Clinton formed another plan. Colonel
Buford, having set out, with three hundred and eighty Virginia troops and
two fceld-pieces, for the relief of Charleston, and finding himself too late to
be of service, had begun a retreat to North Carolina. On the way he \va.s
joined by a remnant of Colonel Washington's cavalry, which had escaped the
surprisalbyTarleton. Clinton dispatched a detachment under Cornwallis to
pursue and capture this little force. Buford had a considerable advantage in
the start, and as he moved rapidly, Cornwallis advanced Colonel Tarleton in
pursuit, with one hundred and seventy dragoons and one hundred mounted
infantry. It required more than a night and a day of forced march, during
which many horses perished and the men suffered exceedingly with the
heat, for Tarleton to come within twenty miles of Buford's party. With
the intention of delaying the march of the retreating Americans, he then
sent forward a messenger bearing the following letter :

" SIR: — Resistance being vain, to prevent the effusion of blood, I make
offers which can never be repeated. You are now almost encompassed by
a corps of seven hundred light troops on horseback; half of that number
are infantry, with cannons. Earl Cornwallis is likewise within reach, with
nine British regiments. I warn you of the temerity of further inimical pro
ceedings." The letter closed with an offer to Buford, of the same terms
which had been given at Charleston. That officer read the letter, kept the
messenger in conversation for some time, without a halt, then returned the
following answer :

"SiR: — I reject your proposals, and shall defend myself to the last
extremity. I have the honor, &c."

In the meantime Tarleton had continued to press forward, and came up
with Buford's rear at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. The Americans had
not looked for so early an arrival of the enemy, and were in a measure sur
prised. Buford made an effort to draw his men off at the right of the road
and form them, while his advance hurried on with the baggage. He was,
however, but ill prepared for the impetuous charge of Tarleton's cavalry,
and most of his men, after firing one hasty and ineffective volley, threw
down their arms and called for quarter. To what degree this prayer
was granted, may be judged by the fact that one hundred and thirty were
killed on the spot, one hundred and fifty so mangled and maimed that they
were left on the field by the victors, and only about fifty, nearly all wounded,

lg2 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

were made prisoners. The advanced guard of about one hundred infantry
escaped, as did Colonel Buford, with a few of the horses. The affair was
nothing but a wanton and indiscriminate butchery. Tarleton explained it
by saying that, he having been unhorsed at the first fire, his men thought
him killed, and were so exasperated that they had finished their work
before he could remount. Cornwallis approved of the affair, and recom
mended Tarleton for promotion, but the world has always, and justly, held
him to have been a murderer. The facts that Buford's field-pieces were not
discharged, and that Tarleton's loss was but five men killed, and fifteen
wounded, seems to more than justify this view of the case.

Immediately upon receiving news of the fall of Charleston and the cap
ture of Lincoln, Washington had desired to place the command of the South
in the hands of General Greene, an officer in whose discretion and bravery
he had the most implicit confidence. Congress, however, interfered and, as
usual, made a faux pas, appointing Gates to the duty. Gates was without
command and accepted the service very eagerly, though Lee gave him a
prophetic warning to beware that his northern laurels did not change to
southern willows. At the time of his appointment to the command, the
troops of Maryland and Delaware, under the veteran De Kalb, were still in
North Carolina, the difficulty of subsisting the army and uncertainty as to
orders, having made their march a slow one. The remaining force in the
Southern colonies was mostly included in a body of North Carolina militia,
under General Caswell, and a body of about eight hundred brave South
Carolina volunteers who had chosen their friend and neighbor Colonel
Thomas Sumter, to command them.

Gates reached De Kalb's camp on the 25th of July and took command
of the little army. He at once made a serious mistake, by ordering an
advance, on the 2/th, upon roads which the heat and lack of subsistence had
prevented either De Kalb or Cornwallis from attempting until after the har
vest had been gathered and cooler weather came. His men suffered every
thing from hunger, thirst, and heat. He effected a junction with Caswell
and on the 1 3th of August, took possession of Rugely's Mills, without oppo
sition from Lord Rawdon, who commanded during Cornwallis' absence at
Charleston. Rawdon withdrew to Camden. On the day of his arrival at
Clermont, Gates was reinforced by seven hundred Virginia militia, under
Brigadier-general Stephens, who had served in the campaign of 1777-78.
He also learned from Sumter that an escort of supplies for the British, at
Camden, must shortly pass the Wateree, at a ferry about a mile distant from
the town, which ferry was protected by a redoubt. He reinforced Sumter
"with one hundred regulars and gave him orders to intercept the train, at the
same time determining himself to cover the enterprise by a demonstration
against Camden. He estimated his force for this service at seven thousand,
and, upon being informed by the assistant adjutant-general, that he had a line

SIEGE AND FALL OF CHARLESTON TARLETON'S BUTCHERY. 193

of but three thousand and fifty-two effectives, he carelessly answered:
"There are enough for our purpose.'' Such was the man who had sought
to supplant Washington ! Gates advanced in order, flanked on either side
by light infantry, the Maryland division, with Virginia and North Carolina
militia and artillery forming the main body and the rear.

Cornwallis had, in the meantime, learned of the presence of a considera
ble body of Americans, and had resumed command at Camden. On the
very night when Gates moved upon Camden, he set out to attack the Ameri
cans at Clermont, and, at half past two o'clock in the morning of August
1 6th, the advance parties of the two armies met, to their mutual surprise.
Gates was soon informed by prisoners taken in the first skirmish, that he
was confronted by Cornwallis and the whole British force. He might then
have retired in safety, made a junction with Sumter, chosen a more fitting
time and place for engaging the enemy, and, perhaps, have been successful,
but he would not adopt the Fabian policy of Washington, and remained on
the ground to expose his few regulars and undisciplined militia to the
veterans of Cornwallis. The result was what might have been expected.
The British attacked him in the morning on equal ground. His militia for
the most part broke and fled like sheep, pursued by Tarleton's dreaded
cavalry. He strove in vain to check them, and sent officers who endeavored
with no better success to overtake and form them to cover a retreat. Gates
thought that his whole aimy had fled, and retired with those about him to
Charlotte. De Kalb's regulars had, however, stood their ground, after the
whole center and left had deserted them. In this position, outnumbered
and outflanked, they fought like tigers, long after all hope of success had
disappeared. De Kalb was on foot with the Maryland brigade, and fell in
the arms of his aide-de-camp, with eleven wounds, from which he died in a
few hours. Then Cornwallis attacked the two devoted brigades with the
bayonet, at last breaking and scattering them. The defeat was hopeless and
complete. The American army was absolutely broken up. Sumter had
succeeded in his venture, and, learning of Gates' defeat, made a forced march
with the captured train to a place some distance from the field, where he
thought it safe to halt and rest his men. During the halt Tarleton made
one of his sudden descents, and, before the Americans could reach their
arms, completely scattered them and re-captured the train. The Americans
lost two hundred wagons and nearly all their baggage, stores, small arms,
and cannon. The loss in men was very heavy, British authorities stating it
to have been between eight hundred and nine hundred killed, and one
thousand prisoners, which, however, doubtless exceeds the truth. The
enemy lost but three hundred and twenty-five killed and wounded.

As a result of the reckless folly of General Gates, there was no longei
an American army in the South ; only a few scattered and hunted fugi-

194 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

tives, without shelter, arms, or food, and there seemed to be, indeed, no
further hope for Virginia, the Carolinas, or Georgia.

Gates retired to Salisbury, thence to Hillsborough, to collect so much
of his scattered force as possible, and await reinforcements.

Two other expeditions had been sent into the Carolinas at the same
time as that headed by Cornwallis, but neither saw any service. Both found
almost uniform readiness to submit, and their march was but little more
than a holiday progress. The negroes joined them, conceiving themselves
absolved from service ; the tories, always cowards save when in the presence
of scarlet cloth, were loud in rejoicing ; the doubtful element was, as
usual, well affected to the successful party, and the real patriots who were
either serving elsewhere, or on parole, were so few and scattered as to be an
imperceptible element in the problem. Clinton felt so confident that he
released all prisoners save those at Charleston and Moultrie, from their
paroles, and subjected them to the obligation of service in the royal cause.
Then on the 5th of June, he sailed for New York with a portion of the army
leaving Cornwallis, with the rest, to push the war through North Carolina
and Virginia.

,-—>

BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN — GATES RELIEVED BY GREENE. 19:

CHAPTER XXIV.

BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN- GATES RELIEVED BY GREENE.

CORNWALLIS regarded the South as reduced beyond the fear of
resistance by the defeat of Gates and the death of l)e Kalb. He
settled himself at Camden for the recuperation of his army, issued a proc
lamation, calling upon the loyalists of North Carolina to arm and cut off the
retreat of the remnant of Gates' army, and dispatched Major Patrick Fer
guson, a brave and skillful tory partisan, to keep the war alive upon the
western borders of the province. Ferguson's force numbered between
eleven hundred and twelve hundred men, light infantry and royal militia, of
his own levying and training, and they constituted a very formidable corps
for partisan warfare. He was directed to skirt the mountain country be
tween the Catawba and the Yadkin. harass the whigs, inspirit the tories and
embody the militia under the royal banner. This done, he was to move
to Charlotte, where Corn \\allis would be in waiting, prepared for new and
more important movements. Having carried out his instructions, Ferguson
was returning to Charlotte to rejoin Cormvallis, when he learned that a force
of American partisans, under Colonel Elijah Clarke, of Georgia, was retreat
ing towards the mountains of North Carolina. His own strength had been
largely increased by the drawing of tories to his standard, and he could not
resist the temptation to attempt the cutting off of Clarke. Consequently,
he pushed through the narrow and steep defiles of the mountains, and took
Y>ost at a small frontier village, called Gilberttown. He was confident that
no force existed, or could be raised, which could face him with an}' possi
bility of success. In this he was deceived. The marauds of his men had
aroused the whole mountain region to fury. As a British writer says:
"All of a sudden, a numerous, fierce and unexpected enemy, sprung up in
the depths of the desert. The scattered inhabitants of the mountains
ass imbled, without noise or warning, under the conduct of six or seven of

IQC5 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

their militia colonels, to the number oi six hundred strong, daring, well-
mounted, and excellent horsemen."

Ferguson took alarm and began a retreat. The frontiersmen collected
by twos, threes and half-dozens at Gilberttown, and soon nine hundred
of their best mounted men set out in pursuit, leaving their comrades to fol
low. The first evening they halted at the Cow pens. Early in the morning
they again took the march, moving toward King's mountain, twelve miles
distant, and, when they had proceeded nine miles, learned that Ferguson
had taken a strong position upon that eminence. His men were extended
along the level ridge which forms its summit, and their commander had
boasted that "if all the rebels out of hell should attack him they would not
drive him from it." The Americans dismounted, tied their horses, divided
into three nearly equal divisions, and prepared to scale the heights from three
sides. Their fighting directions were very simple : the men were to fire at
will, and with good aim, as rapidly as possible. If unable to hold their
ground, they were to retire to cover, re-form, and again advance, but never
to entirely desert the field. The movements were delayed some time that
they might be simultaneous. Then the left, commanded by Cleveland, drew
the first fire from the enemy, at about 4 o'clock. Almost immediately after,
the centre, commanded by Colonel Campbell, came into action, deployed
behind trees and fences, and answered the heavy volleys of the enemy
with most deadly effect.

Ferguson made a sally and began driving Campbell's force down the
mountain ; almost immediately, one of the other bodies opened a flanking
fire ; he turned his attention to that, and had forced it to give way, when
the third appeared, and he found Campbell re-formed and advancing. So
he fought first one division, then another, always meeting a fresh and confi
dent enemy at every turn; the Americans, being below him, could fire
without injuring each other, and it seemed that every bullet told. Still he
held his ground bravely, until the field was strewn with dead ; his men,
no longer able to endure the terrible fire, broke ; he endeavored to rally
them and was shot from his horse. Then his second in command beat a
parley and begged for quarter, and the fight was over. The Americans
lost twenty men killed and many wounded, and the enemy lost one hundred
and fifty killed, an equal number wounded, and eight hundred and ten cap
tured. On the following day a court-martial was held, a few of the most
bitter tories captured, were hanged, in retaliation for similar action on the part
of Cornwallis, then the men dispersed to their homes, as quietly and mysteri
ously as they had assembled, not feeling that they had performed any very
remarkable exploit, yet they had, in fact, turned the whole tide of war in
the South. Cornwallis, who had intended reducing North Carolina, then
forcing a junction with the detachment sent by Howe to Virginia, became
alarmed for his own safety and for the security of Georgia and South Caro-

BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN GATES RELIEVED BY GREENE. 197

lina, and gave up his plans of aggression. On the I4th of October following
the battle, he began his weary and perilous retrograde march. Hungry,
footworn, fired upon from every copse and cover, it required two weeks for
his army to reach and cross the Catawba, and take position at YYinns-
borough, South Carolina.

The remainder of the autumn and the early winter were occupied by the
British in most vexatious and costly warfare. General Francis Marion, with
his handful of hardy partisans; Sumter at the head of his irrepressible fol
lowers, — one or the other of these was always in the field, or at least threat
ening to take the offensive. Tarleton was sent against Marion ; the latter,
finding himself outnumbered, kept his stronghold. Tarleton adopted the
ruse of dividing his men into small bodies, and so disposing them that they
might be speedily reunited. This proved successful; Marion, whom his ene
mies called the "Swamp Rat," came out of his hole, Tarleton concentrated
his forces, drove the Americans from one swamp to another, inflicting some
damage, and considered their destruction certain, when came word from
Cornwallis to return to his assistance, as Sumter was in the field. So, giving
up his smaller quarry for more important game, Tarleton returned, attacked
Sumter, attempted to carry a log barn in which some of the Americans had
taken refuge, and was repulsed, with heavy loss of his best men, in killed
and wounded. Night came on, and he retired to a place of safety, while
Sumter's men disbanded, and were far enough away when it was sought to
avenge the defeat of Tarleton. The Americans lost but seven killed.
This is but an example of the daily vexation of Cornwallis, by bodies of
men too large to be ignored; too small and nimble to be met according to
ordinary rules of war. If he sent out foragers, they found the farmers
posted behind trees and fences, and bought with blood the food for which
the patriots disdained to accept gold ; his dispatches were intercepted;
his stragglers cut off, and his command was one of constant worry and
irritation.

Gates had, in the meantime, collected the sad remnant of his army at
Charlotte. He was crushed by a defeat which he could not but acknowledge
was the result of his own folly and negligence. There was little about him
of the old self-confidence and vanity. Soon after entering winter quarters,
he received news of the death of his only son, and, while this wound was
still fresh, came notification that he had been superseded in command by
General Greene. In this unhappy complication of troubles, he received a
letter from General Washington, condoling with him upon the loss of his
child, and referring to his military reverses in terms so considerate and deli
cate as to quite unman him. It is related, by Irving, that, after reading this
letter, "Gates was found walking about his room in the greatest agitation,
pressing the letter to his lips, breaking forth into ejaculations of gratitude
and admiration, and when he could find utterance to his thoughts, declared

lCj8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

that its tender sympathy and considerate delicacy had conveyed more con
solation and delight to his heart, than he had believed it possible ever to
have felt again." It is more than likely that he was moved as much by
remorse at his former injustice to Washington, as by gratitude at the noble
and characteristic utterances of the man he had wronged. On the 2cl of
December, 1780, Greene arrived at Charlotte and took command of the
army. Upon his way southward he had made provision for the strengthen
ing and sustenance of the force in the Carolinas, and for the protection oi
Virginia from hostile attack. He came charged by Congress not only
with the command of the army, but with the delicate duty of providing for
a court of inquiry into the conduct of General Gates. Greene, himself a
man of sensibility, had probably received from Washington some hints as
to his conduct. Certain it is, he behaved with the greatest delicacy and
thoughtfulness toward the double misfortunes of his predecessor. Calling
a council, it was determined that there were not enough general officers in
camp to constitute a proper court of inquiry ; that, considering the recent
family affliction of General Gates, it would be highly indecorous and indeli
cate to force him into an investigation, which he could not honorably
postpone; that prima facie evidence indicated that he had been more
unfortunate than criminal, hence, considering all the circumstances, noth
ing should for the time be done in the matter, and that Congress be
urged to reverse its decision. Such kindness and magnanimity are almost
unparalleled in military history, as the army is too often marked, instead, by
the virulence of its personal enmities and jealousy. Gates was completely
overcome. He had regarded Greene with coldness, if not with stronger
feeling. From this time he was one of the warmest, most affectionate
friends of Greene, as he was, ever after, of the commander in chief.
The Virginia General Assembly appointed a committee to wait upon Gates
and express to him the sympathy and respect of that body, and with
heart touched and comforted by these indications of good will, he left the
army and retired to his farm in Berkeley county.

The force which Greene found awaiting him, was little more than an
apology for an organization. It numbered but two thousand three hundred
men ; these were undisciplined, disorganized, depressed, and showed, in
every particular, the inevitable result of such a defeat as they had suffered.
The country about Charlotte was so exhausted by repeated foragings, that
he determined to divide his force, and seek fresh and more hopeful ground
for their encampment. To this end he sent one portion, under General
Morgan, to the district of Ninety Six, in South Carolina, and with the other
himself made a toilsome march to Hick's creek, in the Chesterfield district,
and there took position.

ARRIVAL OF RoCiiAMBEAU TREASON OF ARNOLD.

CHAPTER XXV.

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU— TREASON OF ARNOLD.

THE winter at Valley Forge has been described; that at Morristown,
then, needs no description. There was the same want, nakedness,
and death; the winter was the coldest ever known in New Jersey. So cold
was it, that the remainder of the Hritish fleet at New Vork was imprisoned
by ice, and an army with heavy cannon might have marched across either
river to attack the city. The pay of the American soldiers was greatly in
arrear, in some cases the men having received no money for five months;
when paid it was only in Continental scrip, which was so far depreciated,
that three months pay of a soldier would not buy a bushel of wheat, and an
officer did not receive as much, in purchasing power, as would a teamster,
paid in English money. Provisions were so scant}' that meat was often
entirely lacking, and, when it came, some- officers lived for weeks upon bread
and cheese, that they might not lessen the rations of the private soldiers.
In the midst of these embarrassments Congress reorganized the commissary
department, upon such a basis as to leave it still less efficient, and, soon
afterwards, the commissar}' general gave notice to the commander in chief,
that he could no longer supply the army with meat, as he had no money,
and his credit was exhausted. In this emergency Washington was again
compelled to call upon each of the counties of the State to supply for the
army a certain fixed quantity of provisions. If these were forthcoming by
a given day, their value was to be appraised by a committee, consisting of
two magistrates from the count}' interested, and the commissary-general,
and warrants given for the payment of the same. If not so received, or fur
nished in sufficient quantities, then, it was announced, that enough to make
up the proportion of each county would be impressed, and paid for accord
ing to value, estimated in the same manner. To the credit of New Jersey,
which had been greatly impoverished by supporting the armies of king and
colonies alike, it should be said that the requisitions of the general were

2OO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

almost uniformly met, several counties exceeding the amount demanded.
Forages were made by the British during the winter in various directions
from New York, for their own condition was far from comfortable. The ice
had cut off the means of supplying the army by water, and fuel was so
difficult to be obtained, that old vessels and empty houses were destroyed
for fire. The Americans could have captured the city, had their army been
in a condition for service. As it was, Lord Stirling made a demonstration
against twelve hundred British who were encamped upon Staten island,
at the head of twice that number of men, but the enemy learned of his com
ing, and, retiring to their works, sent to New York for reinforcement, so that
nothing was accomplished.

Spring, while it alleviated the sufferings of the army, did not remove
the embarrassment of its commander, who, with but a handful of men
under him, was compelled to provide for the protection of the North against
Knyphausen ; to consider the defence of the South, and, at the same tiroe,
to provide as best he might, against the ever present possibility of a rapid
movement by water, and the formation of a junction of both hostile armies
against whichever branch of his own might be weaker. In the face of all,
there seemed little promise of success in recruiting ; the depreciation of the
currency stood as a bar in the way of every movement for the betterment
of the condition of affairs. Recognizing the root of the trouble, Washing
ton wrote the president of Congress : ' * It were devoutly to be wished that
a plan could be devised by which everything relating to the army could be
conducted on a general principle, under the direction of Congress. This
alone can give harmony and consistency to our military establishment, and
I am persuaded it will be infinitely conducive to public economy." This
letter provoked a very warm debate, which reached a climax when it was
proposed to appoint a committee of three persons who should visit the
camp, and, in connection with the commander in chief, devise means for the
improvement of the military system of the country. Of the reception
given this proposal, Irving says: " It was objected that this would put too
much power into a few hands, especially into those of the commander in
chief; that his influence was already too great, that even his virtues afforded
motives for alarm ; that the enthusiasm of the army, joined to the kind of
dictatorship already confided to him, put Congress and the United States at
his mercy; that it was not expedient to expose a man of the highest virtue
to such temptations." This jealousy of one man power was very charac
teristic of the day, and that the distrust extended even to Washington,
shows how vigorous was American republicanism, even in its swaddling
clothes. The committee was, however, appointed; and consisted of Gen
eral Schuyler, John Mathews, and Nathaniel Peabody. As a result of the
investigation, Congress pledged itself to make up to the soldiers the differ
ence between the nominal and the actual value of their pay, and to consider

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU TREASON OF ARNOLD. 2OI

all payments theretofore made, as simply applying on the gross indebtedness
to each. Thus, at last, there was a prospect for placing the army upon an
efficient footing.

Early in May, Washington received a letter from the Marquis de La
fayette, announcing his arrival at Boston, and that he would at once push on
to headquarters. The commander was greatly affected when he received this
welcome announcement, and, upon the arrival of Lafayette, folded the young
officer in his arms in the most affectionate manner, — an act of demonstra
tive affection quite foreign to his custom. The newcomer could not long
remain with his older friend, for he was the bearer of important tidings — that
a French fleet, under Chevalier de Tcrnay, was to put to sea early in April,
bound for service in America, and convoying a fleet of transports bringing
a land force, under the Count de Rochambeau. Having communicated
this glad news, he at once hastened to Philadelphia, to report the
same to Congress, while Washington turned his attention to preparing
for co-operation with the allies against New York. At his suggestion,
Lafayette had dispatched letters to Rochambeau and Tcrnay, apprising
them of Washington's opinion, that a campaign against that point would
be advisable, and requesting them to make with all speed for Sandy Hook.
Washington had little fear that, with the slender garrison and small naval
force at New York, he could have trouble in capturing that city, by the aid
of the French. His principal anxiety arose from the inefficiency of his own
army, and he turned all his energies to finding a remedy.

Washington's first knowledge of the surrender of Charleston, was con
veyed on June 1st, by a hand-bill, circulated in New York, and, almost at
the same time, he was informed that a fleet of about one hundred war ves
sels and transports had appealed at Sandy Hook. This latter he took to be
a portion of the British force which had been employed in the South, and
his fear for the safety of the Hudson was aroused. He soon learned, how
ever, that the report regarding the flotilla was false ; but, on the 6th of
June, came news that the British were landing at Elizabethtown point, for
an incursion into New Jersey. Knyphauscn had, in fact, received exag
gerated reports of the discontents of the American army, and deemed that
a timely demonstration might draw largely from its ranks, and also lead to
the re-establishment of British influence in the Jerseys. He had made a
grand mistake in accepting these reports at their face value. No sooner was
his intention manifest, than signal guns and fires gave warning, and, along
every road, by twos and threes, hurried the hardy yeomanry of the colony,
to the danger stations. At Connecticut Farms he met his first opposition.
This amounted only to a momentary stand; the British, with artillery
and reinforcements, soon broke the provincial line, and revenged its
temerity by sacking and burning the village. During this barbarous
retaliation, Mrs. Caldwell, wife of a fighting chaplain in the American army,

2O2 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

while sitting in a house, with her children beside her, was killed by two
musket balls discharged through an open window. Yet this expedition had
for one of its objects, the bringing of New Jersey colonists back to fealty
to the crown ! The death of Mrs. Caldwell drove many a doubtful yeoman
to the rebel ranks, and the British paid for her life a hundred times over.
Springfield, on the road to Morristown, had been made the rallying-point
of the American army. There was posted in advance, General Maxwell, with
his brigade and the levies of the vicinity, while on the heights behind, was
Washington, with the main body of the army. Knyphausen halted, recon-
noitered, and very wisely turned about, and made the best of his way to
Elizabethtown point, his place of debarkation. There he lingered, in
indecision, sending a portion of his troops across the channel ; then recall
ing them. On June i8th, Clinton, with a portion of his southern army,
actually arrived at New York, and Washington, leaving behind Greene, and
Henry Lee, with his light horse, began a weary march toward the Highlands.
He had advanced but a short distance, when he received news that the
enemy was again moving from Elizabethtown, whereupon he sent rein
forcements to Greene, and, himself, fell back to a point where he might at
once watch the Hudson, and be in a position to co-operate with the Jersey
troops. Knyphausen, five thousand strong, with cavalry and artillery,
moved forward, in two columns, one by each road leading from Elizabeth-
town to Springfield. Both roads were guarded by American advanced
parties, while a bridge over the Rahway, a little west of the town, wras held
by Colonel Angel, \vith two hundred picked men and artillery. The
remainder of the army was thrown upon high ground in the rear of the
town. Lee was obliged to retire his advanced party from the Vauxhall road,
after making a sharp defense ; the British left was met, and held with great
determination, by Colonel Dayton, while Angel at the bridge, opposed
the vastly superior force of the enemy for more than an hour, and until
above one-fourth of his men had been either killed or wounded. Greene
finally withdrew to stronger ground, in the rear of Springfield, where the
two roads approached each other more nearly, and permitted of his guard
ing both, without presenting so extended a front. Knyphausen saw that,
should he gain Morristown, it would be after fighting every inch of the way,
and at the cost of many men ; hence, having sacked and burned Springfield,
he retired, on the night of the 23d, to Elizabethtown, having lost many
more men than had the Americans ; having gained nothing but more bitter
enmity for himself and his British employers. By 6 o'clock in the morning,
his rear had reached Staten island, and the last British mission to New
Jersey was at an end.

The evident design of Howe was to menace Washington in several direc
tions, and the latter soon became convinced that the enemy would not imme
diately take any active steps against him. Hence, he so placed his force as

MAJOR ANDKH.

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU — TREASON OF ARNOLD. 203

to be able readily to move it to any endangered point, removed his stores to
more secure depots, and set about the tedious and difficult task of procuring
the increase of his army. On the loth of July a portion of the promised
French fleet reached Providence, Rhode Island, under command of Cheva
lier de Ternay. It consisted of seven ships of the line, two frigates and two
bombs. The remainder of the fleet had been detained at Brest by lack of
transports for the troops which accompanied it. Convoyed by De Ternay's
squadron, were somewhat more than five thousand troops, under command of
Count de Rochambeau, with the Marquis tie Chastellux second in command.
The army was largely officered by young members of the nobility of France,
who were attracted by the romantic and adventurous nature of the service
in a new country. Through the intervention of Lafayette, it had been
arranged that Rochambeau should place himself under the orders of Wash
ington, and that the place of the French, when serving with the American
troops, should be on the left of the line, thus preventing the possibility of
jealousy or misunderstanding.

Rochambeau only waited to collect fuel and forage, before landing his
army, which he placed in a fortified camp without the town. The fleet
remained in the harbor, its temporary inferiority to that of the English for
bidding offensive measures. Washington was much mortified that the con
dition of his army prevented immediate and effective co-operation with
Rochambeau, and thus wrote the president of Congress: "Pressed on all
sides by a choice of difficulties, I have adopted that line of policy which
suited the dignity and faith of Congress, the reputation of these States and
the honor of our arms. Neither the season nor a regard for decency, would
permit delay. The die is cast, and it remains with the States either to
fulfil their engagements, preserve their credit and support their independ
ence, or to involve us in disgrace and defeat. . . .1 shall proceed
on the supposition that they will ultimately support their own interest and
honor, and not suffer us to fail for want of means, which it is evidently in
their power to afford. What has been done, and is doing by some of the
States, confirms the opinion I have entertained of the sufficient resources of
the country. As to the disposition of the people to submit to any arrange
ments for bringing them forth, I see no reasonable grounds to doubt. If we
fail for want of exertions in any of the governments, I trust the responsibil
ity will fall where it ought and that I shall stand justified to Congress, to my
country, and to the world."

This history now brings us to the consideration of the saddest episode
of the War of Independence, the treason of Arnold and the death of Major
Andre. It is difficult to reconcile the action of the former with his past
career and services — so difficult that one can scarcely resist the belief that
disappointment, imaginary injustice, and the black spectre which stands
ever at the elbow of the spendthrift, must have combined to unseat hi?

204 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

reason. That the man who led that terrible march through the Northern
wilderness ; who fought, bled, and ^suffered so bravely before Quebec ;
who led the perilous relief expedition to Fort Stanwix ; who joined the
Saratoga fight without command, and led the mad charge into the very
camp of the enemy, falling desperately wounded within his lines ; that
this man should have striven to barter away a stronghold of the patriot
army for pounds, shillings, and pence, seems almost irreconcilable with
sanity. Yet all these things Benedict Arnold did. He had, in com
mon with many other officers of the colonial army, felt slighted at some
of the promotions made by Congress, by which men, his juniors in the
service, had outranked him. He had unquestionably been slighted by
Gates, at Saratoga, and during the campaign preceding that battle. The
wound which he there received, had, for many weeks, incapacitated him for
active service, and he was consequently placed in command at Philadelphia,
where, as has been related, he earned the enmity of many citizens, was
subjected to an investigation, and mildly reprimanded. During his entire
military service he had lived beyond his means, debts had accumulated, and
he was constantly harassed by duns and threatened with the humiliation of
an exposure. It was after his reprimand, and while without a command,
that he began an anonymous correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, sign
ing himself Gustavus. He represented himself as an officer of high position
in the American service, who had become dissatisfied with the conduct of
American affairs, particularly with the French alliance, and desired to join
the British army, if he could but obtain an equivalent for the loss of prop
erty, which such a step would involve It is probable that Clinton would
not have kept up this intercourse, but for the fact that Arnold's letters
occasionally contained a bit of important information, which events proved
to be trustworthy. As it was, the answers were written by Major John
Andre, aide-de-camp of Clinton, over the name John Anderson.

Andre was a young officer who, if he did not possess, in the highest
degree, those purely masculine traits which make the best of soldiers, was
of unquestioned bravery, and was very popular with his fellow officers,
while ladies invariably admired and made much of him. He was young,
handsome, gay ; he painted well, danced finely, wrote neat verses, had a
talent for the stage and, as an actor and manager, had done much to lighten
the heavy hours of the garrison life at Philadelphia.

Arnold soon found that he must give himself a distinct and appreciable
market value, before he could hope to carry his negotiations with Clinton to
the desired end. Hence he decided to use every effort to obtain the com
mand of an important post. Washington, on his part, believed Arnold's
difficulties to arise only from heedlessness and lack of prudence, and, when
was proposed a movement of the American army to co-operate with the
French, designed rehabilitating him, by assigning him an honorable com-

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU TREASON OF ARNOLD. 2O$

mand. To the surprise of the commander in chief, Arnold did not seem
satisfied with this arrangement, and, upon being questioned, said that his
wound still unfitted him for the saddle, and asked for the command of West
Point. His request was considered and granted, and, about the 3d of
August, i/<So, he took command of the key of the Hudson with its depend
encies. His treacherous negotiation with Andre was now carried on with
more spirit than before, and the proposal for the surrender of West Point was
definitely made, considered and accepted. It was arranged that while the
main body of the American army was at or near King's bridge, for the pur
pose of co-operating with the French against New York, a flotilla under
Rodney, having on board a large land force, should ascend the Hudson to
West Point, when Arnold was to surrender the post almost without opposi
tion, on the plea of the insufficiency of his force to its defense. A personal
conference now became necessary. Arnold desired that it take place at the
Robinson house, his headquarters, but, Andre objecting to pass the American
lines, an appointment was made for a meeting on neutral ground near Dobbs'
ferry. Andre, in disguise, accompanied by Colonel Beverly Robinson,
attended, but Arnold was prevented from keeping his appointment. A
second arrangement was made to be carried into effect during Washington's
absence at Hartford, in consultation with Rochambeau. In furtherance of
this plan, the British sloop of war \'ultui\\ bearing Robinson on board,
anchored in the river near Teller's point, and Robinson sent a letter to West
Point, ostensibly desiring to open negotiations for the recovery of his con
fiscated property, and affecting to believe that Putnam was still in command
of the post. Arnold sent a reply openly, by a flag of truce, to the effect
that a man, with a boat, would be alongside the / Culture, on the evening of the
2Oth, and that any communication necessary to be made, would be conveyed
to the post, and laid before Washington on the following Saturday, when he
was expected to return. Andre accordingly ascended the river, and boarded
the Vulture. On the night of the 2 1st came a boat, rowed by one Joshua
H. Smith, who was, in fact, only an instrument in the hands of Arnold, and
was innocent of any wrong. He bore a letter to Robinson, which Arnold
had artfully written so that it might bear a double significance Robinson
introduced Andre as Mr. John Anderson, and, entering the boat, the latter was
rowed to a point on the west shore of the river, about six miles below Stony
Point. He was muffled in a gray cloak which concealed his uniform, and
the boatman thought him a civilian representing Mr. Robinson's interest.
Arnold was in waiting, and the negotiation was commenced, but daybreak
found it still uncompleted. Arnold then persuaded Andre to remain on
shore until the following night, and caused the boat to be concealed in a
neighboring creek. The two then rode to Smith's house, within the lines,
which they had just reached, when a battery that Colonel Livingston had
caused to be moved to Teller's point, opened fire upon the Vulture, and

2O6 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

shortly compelled her to drop down the river out of range. During the
morning, the bargain for the betrayal of West Point was completed ; Arnold
was promised his price ; Andre received plans of the defenses, which he
concealed in one of his stockings, and all was ready for a return. Arnold
desired Andre to go by land, as the Vulture had dropped down the river,
but the latter insisted upon returning to the vessel, and Arnold left him at
10 o'clock in the morning, having first provided him with a pass, worded as
follows :

" Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards at the White Plains
or below, if he chooses, he being upon public business by my direction.

"B. ARNOLD,

M. General."

Andre passed a weary, anxious day. Once on board the Vulture, he
would be safe ; West Point would fall, and his coveted promotion would be
assured. He called Smith, arid urged him to have no delay, when darkness
was come. To his despair he found that the latter had really misunderstood
the arrangement, or affected to have done so; that he had dismissed his boat
men, and the last hope of reaching the Vulture was gone. As a sort of repara
tion Smith offered to cross the river at King's ferry, and accompany the
supposed Anderson some distance on horseback. It can scarcely be that Smith
had failed to suspect, by this time, that Andre was other than he professed to
be, especially as he urged and persuaded the latter to replace the military
coat, under the cloak \vhich partially disguised him, with one of his own.

The two set out about sunset, crossed the river, and had proceeded
about eight miles beyond, when they were halted by a patrol, the com
mander of which, being satisfied by Arnold's pass, warned them against
proceeding farther by night, as they were on the borders of the famous
Debatable ground, harried alike by colonial ''Skinners" and tory "Cow
Boys," between whom there was little to choose. Smith seems to have been
in an ague of fear. Upon his solicitation, Andre consented to halt for the
night, and the two found quarters at a neighboring house. In the morning
they arose and set out very early, pushing on to a farm house on the Croton
river, where they breakfasted and parted, — Smith returning home, and
Andre pushing on toward New York. The latter had gone but a short dis
tance, when a man stepped into the narrow road before him, leveled a mus
ket, and called upon him to halt. At the same moment two others appeared
in support of the demand. Andre lost his head had he not done so, he
might have kept his life. Observing that the leader of the party wore the
dress common to the tory partisans, he exclaimed, "Gentlemen, I hope
you belong to our party?"

" What party," was the answer.

"The lower party," said Andre.

"We do;" was the reply.

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMI3EAU TREASON OF ARNOLD. 2O/

Andre at once avowed himself a British officer; said that he had been
up the river on most important business, and must not be detained for a
moment. To his intense alarm, the men now declared themselves to be
Americans, and pronounced him their prisoner. Andre did all in his power
to retrieve his error. He laughed, and said that, in a delicate matter like
that in which he was engaged, expedients of all kinds were necessary;
that he was an American officer proceeding to Dobbs' ferry in search of
information. At the same time he produced Arnold's pass. His captors
were not, however, common "Skinners," but intelligent and honest yeomen
of the vicinity, members of a bod}* organized to revenge and prevent the
recurrence of outrages committed by the 4< Cow Boys." The coat which their
leader wore, had come to him from a tory partisan who had stolen his own.
They refused to be satisfied with Andre's explanation, without a search,
and that revealed fatal evidence that he was a spy, in the presence of the
plans concealed in his stocking. Thus discovered, he attempted to bribe his
captors. lie would give his horse, saddle, bridle, and one hundred guineas,
and send them to any place which might be designated. One of the men
asked him if he would not give more, when he promised any reward that
might be named, in return for liberty to pursue his journey. At this John
Paulding, leader of the little guard, said: "If you would give ten thousand
guineas, you should not stir one step."

Every effort failing, Andre was compelled to submit, and was taken
across the country with one man at his bridle rein, and one on either
side, to the nearest .American post — that at North Castle, commanded by
Lieutenant-colonel Jameson. This officer very carefully examined the
papers captured, and, discovering their dangerous character, forwarded them
by an express to General Washington at Hartford. Andre desiring that the
commandant at West Point be notified of the arrest and detention of Mr.
John Anderson, in spite of his pass, Jameson wrote Arnold an account of
the whole affair, told him that the papers found upon Andre had been sent to
Washington, and forwarded letter and prisoner toward West Point under the
same guard. Soon after the escort set out, Major Tallmadge, second in com
mand, arrived at the post, and having somewhat more common sense than
had Jameson, succeeded in inducing the latter to recall Andre, but, with
stubborn insistence, the letter was still sent forward. A little consideration
would have secured the capture of Arnold, which this warning prevented.
Had Tallmadge not come, Arnold and Andre would have laughed over the
matter at a British mess table. Upon Andre's return to North Castle,
Major Tallmadge was more than ever certain that his prisoner was a military
man, and one of consequence, hence he advised his removal to the more
secure post at Lower Salem, under command of Colonel Sheldon, and
Jameson adopted his advice. Learning that his papers had been sent to

2O8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Washington, Andre requested and received the privilege of writing to him,
and hastily penned the following lines :

" I beg your Excellency will be persuaded, that no alteration in the
temper of my mind, or apprehension for my safety, induces me to take
the step of addressing you ; but that it is to secure myself from the imputa
tion of having assumed a mean character, for treacherous purposes or self
interest. . . . It is to vindicate my fame that I speak, and
not to solicit security. The person in your possession is Major John Andre,
adjutant-general of the British army. The influence of one commander in
the army of his adversary, is an advantage taken in war. A correspondence
for this purpose I held ; as confidential (in the present instance) with his
Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton. To favor it I agreed to meet, upon ground
not within the posts of either army, a person who was to give me intelli
gence. I came up in the Vulture, man-of-war, for this effect, and was
fetched from the shore to the beach. Being there, I was told that the
appoach of day would prevent my return, and that I must be concealed
until the next night. I was in my regimentals and had fairly risked my
person. Against my stipulation, my intention, and without my knowledge
beforehand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Thus was I
betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy, within your posts. Having
avowed myself a British officer, I have nothing to reveal but what relates
to myself, which is true, on the honor of an officer and a gentleman. The
request I have made to your Excellency, and I am conscious that I address
myself well, is, that in any rigor policy may dictate, a decency of conduct
toward me may mark that, though unfortunate, I am branded with nothing
dishonorable ; as no motive could be mine, but the service of my king, and
as I was involuntarily an imposter."

Having made this explanation, Andre seemed completely to regain his
equanimity. He chatted and joked with his guards, establishing himself
completely in their good graces, and drew a most amusing caricature of him
self, as he appeared upon his enforced march to his place of confinement.
The gaunt shadow of the gibbet was even then across his path, but he saw it
not. Andre was, by order of Washington, removed successively to the
Robinson house, to West Point, and to headquarters at Tappan. There, on
the 29th, convened the board of general officers, appointed to inquire into
the circumstances of his detection and arrest. This consisted of Major-
generals Greene, Stirling, St. Clair, Lafayette, R. Howe and Steuben, and
Brigadier-generals Parsons, James Clinton, Knox, Glover, Paterson, Hood,
Huntingdon and Stark. General Greene was made president of the board,
and Colonel John Lawrence, judge advocate general. Andre was brought
before this board, and treated with the greatest consideration. No questions
which could embarrass him, were pressed; no witnesses, save himself, were
examined. He made his own statement without any reservation, save that

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU — TREASON OF ARNOLD.

he avoided inculpating others. When he was done, the board took the case,
and shortly afterward gave a judgment to the effect " that Major John Andre,
adjutant-general of the British army, ought to be considered a spy from the
enemy, and, agreeably to the law and usage of nations, ought to suffer death."
The unfortunate officer received the news of his sentence with the same calrr
fortitude which distinguished him throughout and to the end. He acknowl
edged the impartiality and courtesy of the officers, who formed the court,
and the fairness of his trial. " I foresee my fate, " said he, "and, though I
pretend not to play the hero, or to be indifferent about life, yet I am recon
ciled to whatever may happen ; conscious that misfortune, not guilt, has
brought it upon me."

From the time of the announcement of judgment of the court, there
was no cessation of effort on the part of Sir Henry Clinton to secure
a mitigation of the sentence. He entered into correspondence with Wash
ington, and the execution which had been fixed for the 1st day of October,
was once postponed to permit of consultation with a commission sent up
from New York under a flag of truce. A suggestion was once made to
Clinton, that an arrangement might be made for the exchange of Andre for
Arnold, but this was rejected as a matter of course. Arnold, who had escaped
to the British lines and received a command, had the unblushing impudence
to write a letter to Washington asserting his right, as commander of the
post, to receive Andre within his lines, and to give him safe conduct for
return, threatening, if the judgment of the court were carried into effect, to
retaliate upon the first American officer who fell into his hands. As if it
were not enough to insult the intelligence of his late commander in chief by
such a ridiculous assertion, Arnold supplemented this letter with another, in
which he went through the form of resigning his commission, and hypo
critically professed that his action had been dictated by a sincere regard fof
the welfare of his country.

Andre, conscious that, by the application of the letter of military law,
he must die on the scaffold, addressed the following letter to Washington:

"Sin: — Buoyed above the terror of death by the consciousness of a
life devoted to honorable pursuits, and stained with no action that can give
me remorse, I trust that the request I make to your Excellency, at this
serious period, and which is to soften my last moments, will not be rejected.
Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your Excellency, and a mili
tary tribunal, to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a man of
honor. Let me hope, sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with
regard towards me; if aught in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of*
policy and not of resentment, I shall experience the operation of those
feelings in your breast, by being informed that I am not to die on a gibbet."

Washington, had he consulted only his own feelings, would doubtless
have granted this request, but it could not be. The cruel justice of war

2IO GEORGE WASHINGTON.

demanded the ignominious death of Andre, as a spy, and, as such, he was
executed on the 2d day of October, 1780. He mounted the hangman's
wagon unassisted, removed his stock, and, with his own hands, adjusted the
noose and bandaged his eyes. His last words were: "It will be bur a
nvjmentary pang," then the cart moved from under him and he died, almost
without a struggle.

So ended, most sadly, the life of a brave man, whom his friends would
have ransomed at any cost short of dishonor, and whose enemies would
gladly have spared him, could they have done so with safety and consistency
There was, at the time, on the part of the British, much passionate condemna
tion of the judgment and execution, and some feeling survives to this day.
Washington did not escape severe criticism. Yet, in the coolness of a
later century, there seems no question that Andre wras fairly tried, honestly
convicted, and that, according to all military law, he justly died. The circum
stances which made his sentence seem so hard, were fortuitous and personal,
having no relation to his offence. Had he been a common soldier, instead
of an officer ; a clod-hopper, instead of a gentleman ; sullen, instead of winning
and companionable; evasive, rather than frank; cowardly, rather than brave
and simply dignified, no one would have regarded his death as other than
the natural punishment of his act. He was clearly a spy, and his corrup
tion of an American general officer was an aggravation of his offence.
Washington had no incentive to uncommon severity, but rather the con
trary. There was no clamor, among the people or in the army, for the blood
of the unhappy young man. All would have been happy, could his life
have been spared, but his offence was too serious to permit it. Andre's
body was buried near the place of his execution. Years afterward it was
removed and interred in Westminster Abbey. A hundred years after the
closing scene of the tragedy, a citizen of New York* raised, at his own cost,
a monument to the memory of Andre, which every person, not blinded by
prejudice, must admit to have been well merited by a life of unquestioned
honor, and the death of a brave man.

Arnold was made a brigadier-general in the British army ; received a
money payment "to cover his loss;" issued a proclamation to the Ameri
can people, in which he strove to justify his villainy, and another urging his
late comrades to imitate him. He served against his country almost to the
close of the war, then retired to England, where he passed the remainder of
his clays. His wife, by reason of her former tory associations, was suspected
of privity with his plots, and banished from America, during the continu
ance of the war. She went to England and joined her husband, her beauty
and wit alone serving to sustain him in a recognized social position,
as he "was generally slighted and sometimes insulted." She returned but

* Cyrus W. Field.

ARRIVAL OF ROCHAMBEAU TREASON OF ARNOLD. 211

once to America, and was then treated with such coldness that she formed
and adhered to the determination never again to visit her home. The
burthen of evidence is decidedly in favor of her innocence of all pre-knowl-
edge of her husband's crime.

,!.?, GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XXVI.

MISSION OF LAURENS— REVOLT IN THE ARMY-THE WAR IN THE SOUTH.

THE campaign of 1780 was a very inactive one in the North, and was
extremely mortifying to the commander in chief. The second division
of the French fleet, with the promised reinforcement of the army, was delayed
for various reasons, and did not eventually take any part in the campaign,
This prevented any offensive operations, for the allies were still inferior to
the British at sea, while the weakness of the American army, which had
been a source of so great mortification to Washington, at the outset of the
campaign, was never sufficiently remedied to permit of other than a defensive
policy. Writing to Franklin, minister plenipotentiary of the United States,
at Versailles, Washington said: " Disappointed of the second division of
the French troops, but, more especially, in the expected naval superiority,
which was the pivot, upon which everything turned, we have been compel
led to spend an inactive campaign, after a flattering prospect at the opening
of it, and vigorous struggles to make it a decisive one on our part. Latterly
we have been obliged to become spectators of a succession of detachments
from the army at New York, in aid of Lord Cornwallis, while our naval
weakness, and the political dissolution of a great part of our army, put it
out of our power to counteract them at the southward, or to take advantage
of them here."

To guard against a like defeat of the aims of the coming campaign,
Washington urged Congress to take early and active steps for the organ
ization of an army, and was especially pressing in his request that they
at least attempt the negotiation of a foreign loan, and send an agent to
France to forward this design, and to obtain greater naval and military
assistance. His arrangements were so far effectual as to procure the ap
pointment of Colonel John Lauren^, lately his aide-de-camp, as a special
commissioner of the United States, with instructions to proceed to France
and make an effort to negotiate a sufficient loan to relieve the Govern-

REVOLT IN THE ARMY THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 213

ment from embarrassment, and, also, to strive, by the strongest repre
sentations, to induce the French ministry to use such vigor in their co-oper
ation, as to insure a speedy and fortunate termination of the war. Laurens'
service upon the staff of the commander in chief had made him thoroughly
conversant with the needs of the army, and the steps most proper to be
taken for the success of the war. He was also familiar with the resources
of the country, and it was upon the possession of these, and the insignifi
cance of the public debt, that he was instructed principally to rely, in urg
ing the granting of the loan. The appointment was made on the 26th of
September, 1780. Anticipating the order of events, it may be stated that
Laurens succeeded in securing from the king of France, a subsidy of six
million livres. The first installment he brought to America on the 28th of
the ensuing August, at a time when it was very sorely needed.

Scarcely had Laurens been appointed to his mission, when occurred an
incident which sufficiently emphasized the necessity of placing the United
States in a position to do substantial justice to its army. The Pennsylvania
line, consisting of six regiments, was quartered near Morristown. The pay
of the men was greatly in arrears, many of them not having received so
much as a paper dollar for a year. Their coats were wcrn and ragged ; they
wore their linen trousers, and there was but one blanket for three men. So,
thinly clad, poorly fed, unpaid, they worked in the cold and snow, building
the miserable huts that were to shelter them during the winter. Though
they were of course discontented, they would probably have submitted to
all with patience, had they been treated with common justice, but their officers
failed in this, with consequences that threatened to be most serious. Most
of the men were enlisted for "three years or during the war," — the unques
tionable intent of the words being to limit the service to three years, with
provision for an earlier discharge, should the war be sooner ended. An
effort was, however, made to hold the men as enlisted for the term of the
war. About the same time, a deputation from Philadelphia appeared in
camp, and distributed gold right and left among men, who, having enlisted
for a short and definite period, were entitled to discharge, while these veter
ans were passed by and left penniless. On the first day of the year 1/81,
at a given signal, a large portion of the line, including the non-commissioned
officers, turned out in order, announcing an intention to march to Philadel
phia and demand redress from Congress. Wayne endeavored to pacify
them, and, finding words of no avail, cocked his pistols. In a moment, he
was menaced by a dozen bayonets. "We love you ; we respect you," they
said, "but you are a dead man if you fire. Do not mistake us; we are not
going to the enemy; were they now to come out, you would see us fight,
under your orders, with as much resolution and alacrity as ever." Some
effort was still made to suppress the mutiny, blood was shed and a captain
killed. Then the men set out upon their march, Wayne accompanying

214 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

them, but without any authority, and, although treated with scrupulous
respect, in some doubt whether he was a free man or a prisoner. The men
maintained military order; the regiments were under command of sergeants,
and a sergeant-major led the whole. At Princeton they went into camp
and received a visit from Generals St. Clair and Lafayette, and Colonel
Laurens, whom they received with respect, but soon ordered to leave the
camp. A committee of Congress came as far as Trenton, accompanied by
Reed, President of Pennsylvania. There they halted, and sent on word of
their readiness to hear the complaints of the men. Two emissaries came
from General Clinton, promising pardon, bounties and liberal pay, to all of
the mutineers who should join his army. The men indignantly denied the
possibility of their " turning Arnolds," made the British agents prisoners,
and gave them into the custody of Wayne, by whom they were afterward
hanged as spies. Encouraged by this action on the part of the men, Reed
came on to their camp and proposed : to grant all entitled to such, a dis
charge ; to give certificates for arrears of pay — allowing for depreciation of
the currency; to furnish at once certain clothing most needed, and to give
to all men of the line forty days furlough. These terms were accepted, and
the mutiny ended with the dissolution of the insurgent regiments.

Washington feared the consequences of making concessions to men in
revolt, and his fears proved well grounded for, shortly after, a portion of
the New Jersey troops, at Pompton, arose in mutiny. The commander in
chief adopted different tactics. He sent Major-general Howe, with a body
of New England troops in whom he had entire confidence, and directed
him to suppress the mutiny without any concession, and to hang the ring
leaders on the spot. These directions were literally complied with, and the
integrity of the army was thus preserved.

In the meantime the scene of war was evidently changing more and
more to the southward; Arnold, in Virginia, opened a guerrilla warfare
against the people of that almost defenseless colony. Moving swiftly by
land and water, he was enabled to do great damage — damage all the more
mortifying by reason of the insignificance of the force with which it was
accomplished. At Richmond he destroyed a great quantity of tobacco,
and, sending a detachment to Westham, burned a cannon foundry and
public magazine, and knocked the trunnions from a large number of can
non. He then descended the river, galled but not seriously opposed by
the militia, and took post at Norfolk, where he fortified his position, and
for the time being remained.

This narrative left Greene's army, in December, 1780, resting in two
divisions, one under Morgan, in the district of Ninety-six ; the other, com
manded by Greene in person, upon the Pedee river. Cornwallis was not
disposed to give the Americans time for recuperation, and determined
either to force Greene to a fight and defeat him, or compel him to retreat

REVOLT IN THE ARMY THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 215

from North Carolina. Knowing that General Leslie was marching down
from Virginia, with a body of troops for his relief, the British commander saw
only Greene, with a weak and motley army, between himself and complete
domination of the South, from Virginia to Florida. One lion lay in his
path. Before he could proceed directly against Greene, Morgan must be
conquered, for it would not do to have an enemy in his rear. Hence, he
dispatched Tarleton, with one thousand one hundred picked men, to pro
ceed to the district of Ninety-six and dispose of this little preliminary, he
himself awaiting the result, within such distance as to permit of co-opera
tion. Morgan's force was nearly equal in point of numbers to that of Tarle
ton, but he had less cavalry, and his men were in general far from being so
efficient as those of the enemy, who had under him the flower of the
British infantry and artillery, and his own famous light horse. Morgan
retreated toward the Broad river, hotly pursued by Tarleton, who was con-
fident of an easy victor}'. Finally, on the ijth, Morgan deserted his camp
before daylight and drew up his men, in three lines, upon an eminence at
Hannah's Cow pens. His flanks were unprotected, and, six miles in his
rear, ran the Broad river, effectually cutting off retreat. He deliberately
chose to fight in this position, believing that his militia would fight better if
they could not hope to save themselves by running away. He knew their
dread of Tarleton, their familiarity with his cruel mode of warfare, and, he
said, "when men are forced to fight, the}' will sell their lives dearly." The
first of his three lines was formed of the Carolina militia, in whom he had
little confidence ; they were ordered to fire twice, then retire; the second
line was composed of regular infantry, and the third of cavalry. Tarleton
charged the first line savagely, and was badly damaged by its volleys; when
it retired he advanced exultantly, deeming the day his own, but was met by
the regulars, who resisted stubbornly for some time, then, under Morgan's
orders, retreated over the hill, recklessly pursued by Tarleton, whose men,
fatigued with a weary march and hard fighting, were dismayed at coming
face to face with the fresh cavalry of Colonel Washington, which attacked
with a spirit heightened by the remembrance of their old grudge. The
fight was a terrific one, and resulted in the decisive defeat of the British.
Tarleton's cavalry broke and fled, relying upon the speed of horses for
safety, and their commander was compelled to follow them. The British
loss was ten officers and more than one hundred men killed ; two hundred
wounded, and between five hundred and six hundred made prisoners. The
Americans lost but twelve killed and sixty wounded. An English writer
says of this affair: "During the whole period of the war no other action
reflected so much dishonor upon the British arms."

After this decisive victory, Morgan hastily dispatched his prisoners to a
place of safety, sent a report to Greene, and began a retreat, hoping to
effect the crossing of the Catawba before Cornwallis should overtake him.

2l6 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

In this he was barely successful. A heavy rain raised the river, Corn-
wallis was prevented, for the time, from crossing, and the two wings of the
American army effected a juncture. Then ensued a series of masterly
manoeuvres on the part of Greene, which occupied the entire winter, and
will bear favorable comparison with any military accomplishment of the
war, but which cannot be elaborately described in these pages. Cornwallis
was led a chase of over two hundred miles through the most difficult region
of North Carolina. Daily promised a battle, he never succeeded in bringing
one on. He lost his baggage, wore out his men, and finally, coming to the
Dan river, where he had felt certain of entrapping his opponent, found
Greene safely posted on the opposite side, with every means of pursuit
removed or destroyed. Then, after giving his men a few days for rest, he
turned about and retreated, while the Americans, reversing their former
movement, re-crossed the river and followed his march, harrying and galling
him with their light cavalry, while he, by reason of his losses at the Cow
pens, could not retaliate. Finally, in the month of March, Greene received
reinforcements, which increased his numerical strength to four thousand two
hundred and sixty-three men. With these he resolved to risk a battle, and,
sending his baggage to a place of safety, established himself upon a height
near Guilford Court House, and prepared to meet the attack which he felt
sure would be made at the earliest opportunity. No sooner was this stand
made, than Cornwallis began an advance, and, on the I5th of March, 1781,
attacked Greene's position. The first line of the Americans was composed
of militia, which broke and fled almost without a show of resistance, and so
embarrassed and confused the remainder of the army that, though a most
stubborn, and, in some quarters, successful defense was made, the result was
the loss of the day. The loss of the Americans was more than five hundred
killed and wounded, and about nine hundred missing. That of the British
was ninety-three killed, four hundred and thirteen wounded, and twenty-six
missing. Thus, though Cornwallis won a victory over a superior force, it
was at the price of fully one fourth of his army. In fact, cut off, as he was,
from supplies and the possibility of reinforcement, his victory \vas costly as
were few defeats during the war. Greene had retreated to a point of ren
dezvous, where he collected his scattered army, and when, a day or two later,
Cornwallis, unable to pursue his advantage, set out upon a march for Cross
creek, where, in the midst of a settlement of Highlanders, he hoped to be
able to obtain supplies and recruits, his lately conquered adversary was in
hot pursuit. Cornwallis crossed Deep river, barely in time to burn the
bridge behind him, and thus check Greene. The latter, knowing that the
time required to rebuild the bridge would be amply sufficient to put the
enemy beyond fear of pursuit, changed his tactics, dismissed his militia to
their homes, sent word to Sumter and Marion of his coming, and set out
with his regulars, upon the long and toilsome march to South Carolina. He

REVOLT IN THE ARMY THE WAR IX THE SOUTH.

knew that such an expedient would result either in compelling Cornwallis
to follow him, or to surrender the control of that province, so hardly won
during the previous year. The British commander was disappointed in
securing the succor which he sought at Cross creek, and passed on to his
base of supplies at Wilmington, where he learned, almost with despair, of
Greene's southward movement. Lord Rawdon's principal force, he knew,
was stationed at Camden ; many of his men were detached at various posts,
and, although he saw the danger of their being defeated in detail, his own
army was too much reduced, and the distance too great to permit of his
attempting any assistance ; hence, he sent an express to General Phillips, in
command in Virginia, and, deserting the province of North Carolina, to the
conquest of which he had a few months before moved with so much confi
dence, set out on the 25th of April, upon his march to effect a juncture
with that officer.

It is difficult, almost impossible, to give, within reasonable limits, an
account of the various military operations, which intervened between the
battle of Guilford and the close of the siege of Yorktown. The move
ments were not individually important, yet they were extremely compli
cated, and, when taken together, were of the utmost moment, as leading
to the final catastrophe to the British arms, which insured the independ
ence of the colonies. The condition of affairs north of the Carolinas, at
the beginning of the year 1781, maybe summed up in these words. The
French army lay in Rhode Island, and the fleet at Newport; Washington's
headquarters were in the neighborhood of West Point, his army being so
disposed as to afford the best protection to the Hudson. In Virginia,
Arnold lay at Portsmouth, awaiting developments, and quite secure against
any force then possible to be brought against him on short notice. New
York city was still held by Sir Henry Clinton, whose tenure was not threat
ened with any immediate danger.

Washington keenly felt the importance of preventing Arnold from
gaining too strong a position. He conveyed his views on the subject to
Congress, to Governor Jefferson, and to the French commander. Before
receiving his letter, which recommended dispatching both naval and land
forces to the Chesapeake, Rochambeau and Ternay had detached a sixty-
gun ship of the line and two frigates, to make a dash against Arnold.
Washington at once detached Lafayette with twelve hundred men to
co-operate with the French, at the same time ordering the Baron Steuben to
report to that officer and assist him in every possible manner. The march
of the land force was begun on the 22d of February, and all haste was made
to reach the Chesapeake, but the expedition was a failure, for the reason that
Arnold retreated with his vessels, so far up Elizabeth river, that he could not
be followed by the French ships, and, as the latter brought no land force,
they were obliged to return to Newport, with no better result than the

'>'8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

capture of one English frigate, and two privateers, with their prizes. It was
then determined to repeat the attempt, with a larger naval force, and a suffi
cient body of French troops to render the defeat of Arnold a certainty.
On the 8th of March, the entire fleet, with eleven hundred of the line, sailed
from Newport, and Lafayette was again on the alert to assist, but again he
was doomed to disappointment, for the British fleet, under Arbuthnot,
arrived at Portsmouth, having set out in pursuit of the French. The fleets,
nearly equal in strength, had met, and, after a battle lasting about two
hours, both had withdrawn, badly crippled, the French to return to New
port ; the British to make the best of their way to Portsmouth.

In the meantime Washington became much alarmed for the safety of
Greene ; two thousand men had sailed from New York, and he could scarcely
doubt that the intention was to effect the juncture of this force, increased by
that under Arnold, with Cornwallis, and, this being accomplished, sweep
the colonial forces from the South. Hence, he ordered Lafayette to march
to the relief of Greene. Phillips arrived at Portsmouth on the 26th of
March, and spent some time in strengthening the works at that place.
Then, on the i8th of April, he embarked his men in boats of light draft, and
proceeded up the James river, upon a marauding expedition, by which
Petersburg, Chesterfield Court House, and Warwick suffered, by the burning
of public and private store-houses, and the general ruthless destruction
which distinguished the warfare of the British, after the measures of con
ciliation had been abandoned. Richmond was, for the time, saved by the
presence of Lafayette, and Phillips descended the river, cautiously followed
by the American general. Just at this time, Phillips received a dispatch
from Cornwallis, announcing the advance of the latter from the South, for
the purpose of effecting a juncture with the army of Virginia. This changed
the plans of both Phillips and Lafayette, the former hastening to Peters
burg, the place of rendezvous indicated by his superior ; the latter taking
post near Richmond, to await developments. Four days after the arrival of
Phillips at Petersburg, that gallant officer died, leaving Arnold again in com
mand, until the arrival of Cornwallis, which occurred on the 25th of May.
The latter general was now strong in numbers, and had a very reasonable
expectation of soon being stronger; he learned that Lord Rawdon would
soon be reinforced by fresh troops from Ireland, and that Greene had been
checked at Camden. He had no doubt of his ability to out-general and crush
Lafayette, whom he contemptuously referred to as "that boy." Hence he
had " brilliant hopes of a glorious campaign."

There was, however, nothing very glorious about the wild and unsuc
cessful chase which Lafayette led him, during the month that followed. At
the end of that time, Wayne, having arrived with the Pennsylvania line,
the order was changed, and, for another month, Cornwallis was the hunted,
with Lafayette and Wayne in the pursuit. Finally, Lafayette was misled.

REVOLT IN THE ARMY THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 2Ip

by a pretended deserter, and sent Wayne forward to attack what he sup
posed to be the rear-guard of the British army, but what was in fact the
main body. This affair occurred on the 6th of July, at Jamestown island.
The Americans would have been hopelessly defeated, but for "Mad
Anthony's " desperate valor, which deceived the British and permitted the
army to be drawn off, after a considerable loss. Lafayette retired to Green
Springs, there to rest and recruit his men, while Cornwallis pushed on to
Portsmouth, from which point he was obliged, by his recent orders, to send
a large detachment from his army to rejoin Sir Henry Clinton in New York.
This action on the part of Clinton was caused by demonstrations made bj
the allied armies in the North, which will appropriately be discussed in i
new chapter.

22O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE CLOSING CAMPAIGN OF THE WAR.

beginning of the year 1781 should, according to the paper mus
ters of Congress, have seen a force of thirty-seven thousand men in
service. Yet Washington, after deducting the armies of Virginia and South
Carolina, had not, on the first of May, more than seven thousand soldiers,
effective for service, under his own command, on the Hudson. The
country between his advance posts and New York city, was desolated
by repeated marauds of the refugees under Colonel Delancy, and other tory
leaders, yet the condition of the army scarcely permitted the detachment of
a force sufficient to check the outrages. At last, a particularly bold rav
age, resulting in the death of two valuable officers, — Colonel Greene and
Major Flagg, — and the butchery of their men, led him to determine to break
up this partisan warfare at any cost. While he was considering the course
to be adopted, he learned that Count de Barras had arrived at Boston, to
assume command of the French squadron ; that twenty ships of the line,
with a large land force, had sailed from France, under Count de Grasse, and
that twelve of these were intended to reinforce the squadron at New York.
Consulting with Rochambeau, it was determined to make a joint effort
against New York, the French army moving at once from Newport to
join the Americans. A message was sent to intercept De Grasse, and
Washington hastened to place his men in the best possible condition for
effectual co-operation. At the best, the result was not flattering, for not
more than five thousand Americans could be contributed for the service.
The time selected for the movement, was when a portion of the garrison of
New York was detached into New Jersey. It was well conceived, and care
fully arranged. Much depended upon accomplishing a surprise, and it was
intended to move quietly and simultaneously for the taking of New York,
and the striking of a fatal blow at the tory partisans of the debatable
ground.

THE CLOSING CAMPAIGN OF THE WAR. 221

It is not necessary to minutely follow the history of tne expedition.
The partisans were scattered, so much of the design being effected, but the
unexpected return of the New Jersey detachment prevented a surprise and
rendered it prudent for the armies to retire and await a more fitting oppor
tunity. This they did, the French and American forces going into neigh
boring camps, extending from Dobbs' Ferry on the Hudson to the Bronx
river. Later, a reconnoissance in force was made to the neighborhood of
New York city. Under cover of five thousand troops, Washington and
Rochambeau, accompanied by engineers, made an extended and minute
study of the British position, with a view to discovering the best point ana
plan for an attack. These demonstrations proved effective for the relief of
Virginia, as they alarmed Clinton to such a degree that, as stated, he
directed Cornwallis to detach troops to his relief. After this reconnoissance,
both armies returned to their encampment to await an opportunity for an
attack. While matters were in this condition, news came from De Grasse,
that he would leave San Domingo on the 3d of August, with between
twenty-five and thirty ships of the line, and sail directly for the Chesapeake.
It was at once determined to give up the design upon New York, and to
remove the French army and so many of the Americans as could be spared,
to Virginia. Washington sent word to De Grasse of this intention, and a
message to Lafayette to so post his men as to cut off the retreat of the British.
He did not, however, tell Lafayette, at that time, of his own intention. It
was kept a complete secret from all save himself and Rochambeau. Kvery
preparation was made, as if an attack upon New York were contemplated;
pioneers were sent to repair the roads and bridges, and a vast parade was
made to deceive both Clinton and the American army. At last, on the iQth
of August, both armies were formed, facing New York, as if an immediate
advance by separate roads were contemplated; then they were wheeled,
marched to King's ferry, the tedious crossing made, and each set out upon
its march by a different route. The men of the American army believed,
until the last post had been passed, that they were to land upon Staten
island and attack New York, and it was not until Washington had reached
the Delaware, and interception was out of the question, that Clinton discov
ered that he was a dupe.

On the 2nd and 3cl of September, the armies passed through Phil
adelphia. There Washington learned that his plans must be revised,
as an extensive embarkation, which Lafayette had taken to be a detach
ment of additional troops to New York, was in fact an evacuation of Ports
mouth in favor of Yorktown. Cornwallis had removed his army to that
place, which occupies a position on the bank of York river, opposite
Gloucester point. Here, secure in the belief that only Lafayette was
opposed to him, he was leisurely fortifying, on each side of the river,
preparatory to the transfer of the war into Virginia, which he expected

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Clinton would make on the ist of October. In the meantime, Lafayette had
taken every precaution, by the disposal of his troops, to prevent a possible
retreat on the part of Cornwallis. On September 5th, Washington left Phil
adelphia. When near Chester, he met a messenger bearing news that the
Count de Grasse, with thirty-eight ships of the line, was already in Chesa
peake bay; and of the junction of three thousand French troops, under Mar
quis St. Simon, with Lafayette. He returned to Chester and congratulated
Rochambeau upon the happy result, news of which reached Philadelphia
during a great banquet given by citizens to the French officers, and set the
banqueters, and citizens in general, wild with delight. On the 6th the embark
ation of troops and supplies began at the Head of Elk, and Washington,
having notified De Grasse that the land forces would soon be thus rein
forced, pushed on by land, in advance of part of the troops for which there
was not transportation, to Baltimore, leaving General Heath to commence
the march at daybreak. On the pth he set out from Baltimore, accompa
nied by a single officer, and, late at night, for the first time in six long and
weary years, entered his own home at Mt. Vernon. There his suite, whom
his eagerness had outrun, joined him on the following day, and at evening
came, as an honored guest, the Count de Rochambeau.

The remainder of the campaign of Greene in South Carolina must be
passed with a mere statement of results. Greene was checked by Rawdon
at Camden, and retired for the time being, intending to await reinforcements,
but, while he remained in this condition of inactivity, Rawdon received news
of the event which had prevented Lafayette's juncture with Greene — the
movement into Virginia. This led him to abandon Camden for Charleston.
Greene at once took the offensive; the hardy soldiers of Marion and Sum-
ter struck repeated and successful blows ; the light cavalry of Lee and
Wade Hampton seemed omnipresent, and the army gained a series of suc
cesses, each small in its way, but, taken together, contributing little by little
to the destruction of British power in the South. The war was boldly
pushed, one cavalry dash being made actually to the outskirts of Charleston,
where several prisoners were taken and safely brought away, before the
astonished British were well aware of the cause of the commotion. About
the ist of August, Lord Rawdon sailed for England, leaving Colonel Stuart
in command of the British army. Stuart went into camp within sight of
Greene's fires, and thus, separated by two rivers, — the Congeree and
Wateree, — the two armies lay during the months of extreme heat, without
any active operations on the part of either. The result of the campaign
had been the almost complete recovery, by the Americans, of the two
Carolinas and Georgia, and only a slender force now opposed their complete
redemption.

On the 22d of August, Greene descended from his delightful camp on
the hills of the Santee, and set out to make a circuit of some seventy miles,

THE CLOSING CAMPAIGN OF THE WAR. 223

necessary to find crossing places, and approach the camp of Stuart for the
purpose of making an attack. Stuart, however, deserted his position, and
moved forty miles, to Eutaw Springs. Greene followed him by easy
marches, and, on the 5th of September, came within seventeen miles of the
springs, and there lightened himself of tents, baggage, and all unnecessary
impedimenta. On the night of the 7th, he encamped ten miles farther, and,
at four o'clock on the morning of the next day, advanced to engage
the enemy. Then ensued one of the most desperate battles of the war,
continuing, with varying fortune, during the day, and which, though not
entirely decisive, ended with the advantage on the side of the Americans.
At nightfall Greene drew off his men to the camp they had left in the
morning, and, during the hours of darkness, Stuart withdrew from the field,
leaving many of his wounded behind. The American loss was four hun
dred and thirty-five, killed, wounded and prisoners ; that of the British six
hundred and thirty-three, five hundred of these being prisoners. Greene,
learning of the retreat, in the morning pursued the enemy for some dis
tance, but found him reinforced and well placed. Not caring to risk a
defeat, and certain of ultimately capturing his game, he returned to the
heights of Santee, and neither army saw further service, before the cessation
of hostilities put a period to the desultory, but bloody war in the Carolinas.
On the 6th day of October, the first American parallel was begun, at a
distance of six hundred yards from the British line at Yorktown. The work
was vigorously pushed during the night, and its advanced condition, when
daylight revealed it, was a surprise to the army of defense. A tremendous
fire was at once opened upon the new works, but they were sufficiently
advanced to protect the workers, and were steadily strengthened from within.
On the 9th the first artillery was mounted, and, Washington himself apply
ing the match, the cannonading of the town was begun. As gun after gun
was placed in position, the fire became almost continuous, and was savagely
answered by the defenders. The town was very seriously battered, Lord
Cornwallis' headquarters became untenable, and the general was obliged,
very early in the siege, to seek a new and safer residence. For three or four
days this tremendous cannonade and bombardment were kept up from works
manned by the Americans, as well as those held by the French soldiers, — the
fire of the latter being especially directed at the British defenses upon Glou
cester point. The works of the enemy, yet uncompleted, suffered very
severely, and many of his guns were dismounted and silenced. The French
fired hot shot, which ignited several building in the town, and burned a
man-of-war and three transports in the harbor. On the night oftheiith
the second parallel of the besiegers was opened within three hundred yards
of the enemy's works. To oppose the construction of this the British made
*)cw embrasures, and, for three clays, kept up an annoying and effective fire
upon the working soldiers, and from two redoubts, some distance in advance

224 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

of the main works, an enfilading cannonade was kept up upon the parallel,
which made it well nigh untenable. It was determined to carry these
redoubts by coup de main on the night of the I4th. The assault of that
nearest the river was to be made by Americans, led by Lafayette, with
Hamilton second in command; the other by French, under General the
Baron de Viomenil. At about 8 o'clock rockets were sent up as a signal for
the advance. The Americans made a characteristic assault ; not waiting for
their pioneers to remove the abatis, which obstructed their path, each man
forced a passage for himself. Hamilton, mounting upon the shoulder of a
private soldier, was the first to gain the parapet ; followed by his men, the
work was carried at the point of the bayonet, without firing a shot, and
with a loss of eight killed and thirty-two wounded ; the enemy lost eight
killed, and seventeen prisoners. The French proceeded against the other
redoubt more regularly. After Lafayette had gained the object of his
assault, he sent a messenger to Viomenil, to say that he was in his work.
" Tell the Marquis," answered Viomenil, " that I am not in mine, but will
be in it in five minutes." He told the truth, the redoubt was taken, but
with much heavier loss than attended the execution of Lafayette's enter
prise.

The loss of these advance works discouraged Cornwallis, who could
but recognize that his position was well nigh hopeless. He had long
expected the coming of succor from New York, but, on the day after this
coup dc mam, he wrote Sir Henry Clinton: <(My situation now becomes
very critical. We dare not show a gun to their old batteries, and I expect
their new ones will open to-morrow morning. . . . The safety
of the place is, therefore, so precarious that I cannot recommend that the
fleet and army should run great risk in endeavoring to save us."

On the night of their capture, the redoubts were included in the second
parallel; after the fall of darkness on the i6th, Cornwallis sent a detach
ment to effect the spiking of the guns which were mounting thereon, and
succeeded in a measure, but the work was so hastily done that the spikes
were easily withdrawn. With the failure of this attempt, he gave up all
hope of holding his position until succor should arrive. He consequently
determined upon a desperate expedient. Collecting a number of boats, he
prepared to transfer his army by night to the shore near Gloucester point,
break through the American cordon, and force his march to New York.
In pursuance of this plan he actually transferred one division of his army
to the main land, undiscovered, and embarked the remainder, save a guard
left to surrender the town, when a heavy wind drove his boats down the
river, and he was obliged to abandon his project, with barely time to
re-convey to Yorktown the division already transferred.

At the hour of ten on the morning of the i/th, his works being unten
able, and his last hope of escape gone, Cornwallis beat a parley and sent a

THE CLOSING CAMPAIGN OF THE WAR. 225

messenger to Washington requesting a cessation of hostilities for twenty-
four hours, and the appointment of a commission of officers to discuss terms
of capitulation. Knowing the prospect of reinforcement, Washington hesi
tated to grant so long a delay, and requested Cormvallis to send a draft of
his proposal to headquarters, before the meeting of the commission. The
proposal came, and was rejected. The armistice was prolonged; commis
sioners were appointed, met, and concerted terms ; these were submitted to
Cormvallis early in the morning of the ipth of October, with an intimation
that an answer was expected by 1 1 o'clock of that day. The terms were
accepted, and, at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, Yorktown and the citadel at
Gloucester point, were surrendered, the British army — seven thousand and
seventy-three men, of whom five thousand nine hundred and fifty were rank
and file, marched out of Yorktown and grounded their arms, the men
becoming prisoners of war to the United States, the officers giving their
parole, with permission to return to New York or to Europe. The fleet was
surrendered to Count deGrasse, its men becoming prisoners of the king of
France. The following description of the formal surrender of Lord Corn-
wallis and his army, is worthy quotation :

4 'At about 12 o'clock the combined arm}- was drawn up in two lines
more than a mile in length, the Americans on the right side of the road;
the French on the left. Washington, mounted on a noble steed and
attended by his staff, was in front of the former; the Count deRochambeau
and his suite were in front of the latter. The French troops, in complete uni
form and well equipped, made a brilliant appearance, and had marched to the
ground with a band of music, which was a novelty in 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
privation. The concourse of spectators from the country seemed equal to
the military, yet order and quiet prevailed.

"About 2 o'clock, the garrison sallied forth, and passed through with
shouldered arms, slow and solemn steps, and drums beating a British march.
They were all well clad, having been furnished with new suits prior to the
capitulation. They were led by General O'Hara, on horseback, who, riding
up to General Washington, took off his hat and apologized for the non-ap
pearance of Cormvallis on account of indisposition. Washington received
him with dignified courtesy, but pointed to Major-general Lincoln as the
officer who was to receive the submission of the garrison. By him they
were conducted into a field, where the}' were to ground their arms. In
passing through the lines formed by the allied armies their march was care
less and irregular, and their aspect sullen. The order to 'ground arms'
was given by their platoon officers with deep chagrin, and many of the
soldiers threw down their muskets with force sufficient to break them. This

226 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

irregularity was checked by General Lincoln, yet it was excusable in brave
men in their unfortunate predicament. This ceremony over, they were con
ducted back to Yorktown, there to remain, under guard, until removed to
their places of destination."

So ended the siege, and with it the active operations of the war. New
York, Charleston, and Savannah were still in the hands of the British, and
Washington earnestly endeavored to persuade De Grasse to remain and take
part in a concerted movement against Charleston, but that officer pleaded
his orders, and, on the 4th of November, made sail for the West Indies, there
to co-operate with the Spanish flotilla. In default of the assistance of De
Grasse, Washington sent to the aid of Greene, two thousand troops, under
St. Clair, but these, in common with the remainder of the army, had done
their work. The war was not to be renewed in the South or elsewhere.
Rochambeau remained in Viginia, making his headquarters for the winter at
Williamsburg, about which place he established his army in winter quarters.
The American army moved to Newburg on the Hudson, and also went into
cantonment, and the campaign was at an end.

FROM THE FALL OF VORKTOWN TO THE PEACE. 22 /

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FROM THE FALL OF YORKTOWN TO THE PEACE.

r I ^HE news of the fall of Yorktoxvn and the surrender of the army of
\ Virginia, was received everywhere in America with the greatest delight ;
in England the depression which it created, was correspondingly profound.
Congress voted its thanks to Washington, to Rochambeau, to DeGrasse,
and generally to the officers of the allied armies. As mementoes of ih^
victory, two stands of captured colors were voted to Washington, and two
pieces of ordnance, each, to the French military and naval commanders.
The country for a time went wild with joy, and assumed that the war was in
fact already over. Washington retained his equipoise, recognized the neces
sity of providing for possible future operations, and, after a hasty visit to
Mount Vernon, betook himself to Philadelphia, there to use his influence
with Congress to secure the strengthening of the army, and guard against
the danger of over security. While on his way to Philadelphia, he was
present at the death-bed of John Parke Custis, son of Mrs. Washington
by her former marriage. Mr. Custis left a widow and four young chil
dren, and Washington adopted two of these, — a boy and a girl, — as his own,
and removed them to his childless home. The son, John Parke Custis, Jr.,
subsequently became the biographer of his step-father.

Washington remained in Philadelphia four months. During the inter
vening time the military committee of Congress adopted his views, and made
unusual provision for the organization of an army, and arrangements to
secure additional financial aid from France. The execution of the project
for army reorganization fell, as usual, far short of the expectation of Con
gress. The colonies had fallen into an apathy which might have resulted
most seriously, had hostilities been renewed. During the month of March
the commander in chief set out for the camp of his army at Newburg, where
he remained some time, busy with multitudinous administrative duties.

228 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

It was while there, that arose a painful question which much resembled
in principle that as to the punishment of Major Andre, though it resulted
more fortunately. A company of New Jersey people captured a New
York "Cow Boy," named Philip White, and, while conducting him to jail,
he attempted to escape, and was killed. Shortly after, Captain Joseph
Huddy, a whig partisan, held prisoner of war in New York, was taken into
New Jersey by a party of refugees, headed by Captain Lippencott, and
hanged, his breast bearing a placard, on which were inscribed the words:
"Up goes Huddy for Philip \Vhite." Washington at once demanded of
Sir Henry Clinton, the surrender of Lippencott for punishment. This was
refused, Clinton, however, promising to investigate the matter and punish
the officer should he be found guilty. Washington determined upon retalia
tion, and ordered that there be selected by lot from among the British cap
tains, held as prisoners of war, one who should die, to atone for the death of
Huddy. The lot fell upon Captain Asgill, a youth of but nineteen years,
whose amiability had made him a favorite alike with his comrades and cap
tors.

In the meantime Sir Guy Carleton succeeded Clinton in the command
of New York, and one of Captain Asgill's fellow-officers solicited permis
sion to go to him, and urge the surrender of Lippencott. This was allowed,
Washington, at the same time, saying that, deeply as he was pained by the
necessity, nothing but the surrender of Lippencott could save the unfortu
nate and innocent Asgill. The matter remained undetermined for a long
time ; eventually Lippencott was tried by a British court-martial, and
acquitted, it appearing that he acted under the verbal orders of Governor
Franklin, president of the board of associated loyalists. This changed the
aspect of the case, and Washington laid the whole matter before Congress,
recommending at the same time that Asgill's life be spared. Pending a
decision, he placed the young officer upon parole. Before any determina
tion of the case was reached, there came to Washington a request for
Asgill's life, sent by the Count de Vergennes, French minister of war, by
the direction of the king and queen, who had been greatly moved by the
grief of Lady Asgill, mother of the prisoner. This was sufficient to turn
the tide in his favor, and save him from the gibbet, much to the relief of
Washington and every other person conversant with the circumstances.

The advent of Sir Guy Carleton, to which reference has been made,
occurred early in May, Sir Henry Clinton having been permitted, at his
own request, to return to England, that he might set himself right before
parliament, by explaining the disaster of the final campaign in America.
Carleton, immediately upon his arrival, sent Washington notice of the
fact that he, as commander of the British forces in America, and Admiral
Digby, constituted a peace commission, and, at the same time, sent copies
cf the proceedings of parliament, looking to the establishment of peace, or

FROM THE FALL OF YORKTOWN TO THE PEACE. 22Q

of a truce with the colonies. Nothing had as yet taken definite legal form,
and the distrust of the sincerity of the peace professions, which had been
constantly present in the mind of Washington, while it was weakened, was
not removed, and he bent every effort toward maintaining the integrity of the
army. This was no light task, for the unpardonable neglect of the various
States to respond to the call of Congress, and provide for the payment of
their troops, had produced a general and justifiable discontent among officers
and men, who feared that they would be disbanded and turned penniless upon
the world. Then, too, so low was the military chest, the army was neces
sarily fed from hand to mouth, and there was often lack of food to satisfy
the immediate needs of the men.

It was at this time that Washington crushed an incipient movement
looking to the establishment of a monarchy, and the placing of the crown
upon his head ; had he been a Cnjsar or Napoleon he could and would have
fanned this spark into a flame, and, with a devoted and victorious army at
his back, have climbed to a throne upon the ruins of his country's liberty.
The first intimation of the movement, that reached him, came in a letter
from Captain Louis Nicola, whom he had long and intimately known, and
who Irving affirms to have been the mouthpiece of a military faction.
Beginning with the assertion that all the ills of America arose from its
republicanism, he advised a government modeled on that of England, which
he made no doubt could be readily established. Continuing, he said : "In
that case it will, 1 believe, be uncontroverted that the same abilities which
have led us through difficulties, apparently insurmountable by human power,
to victory and glory; those qualities that have merited and obtained the
universal esteem and veneration of an army, would be most likely to con
duct and direct us in the smoother paths of peace. Some people have so
connected the idea of tyranny and monarch}", as to find it very difficult to
separate them. It may, therefore, be requisite to give the head of such
a constitution as I propose, some title, apparently more moderate ; but, if
all other things are once adjusted, I believe strong arguments might be
produced for admitting the title KING, which, I conceive, would be attended
with some material advantages."

Caesar thrice put the crown away, each time with a weaker repulsion
and a more obvious willingness to relent; Napoleon, by the same gradation
suggested here, drifted from the consulship to the empire; the Richard III.
that Shakespeare drew, refused, with pious mien, the prayer of the lord
mayor that he should assume the crown, only to accept the bauble in the
end. Washington bade the devil of ambition get behind him, in such tone
that even Satan could scarcely have the audacity to repeat his proposal.
He answered the letter in these words: "With a mixture of great surprise
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 the

23O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

war has given me more painful sensations, than your information of there
being such ideas existing in the army, as you have expressed, and 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 should make a disclosure 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 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 moie sincere wish to see ample justice done to the army,
than I do ; and, as far as my powers and influence, in a constitutional way,
extend, they shall be employed, 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 yourself, 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 a like nature."

On the 2d- of August, 1782, General Sir Guy Carleton and Admiral
Digby notified Washington that they had learned of the opening of peace
negotiations at Versailles. The fact that, with all these general prospects
of a peace, Great Britain had made no movement to secure a suspension oi
hostilities, seemed to Washington to cast suspicion upon their sincerity,
hence he communicated with Rochambeau, and recommended a junction of
the armies upon the Hudson. Rochambeau consequently put his army in
motion, and, about the middle of September, crossed King's ferry, and the
American army was paraded under arms, at Verplanck's point, in honor oi
the coming of its old allies. The feeling of the two commanders toward
each other was very warm, and it extended throughout the armies.

Some time after this, arose a very serious difficulty in the American
army, which bade fair to result most disastrously. In the flush of gratitude
and enthusiasm, caused by the defeat of Cornwallis, the Congress voted
half pay to officers of the army, for a given number of years after the close
of the war. The likelihood of ever obtaining this, or the arrears of pay,
became a subject of frequent and angry discussion in camp. At last the
officers united in a memorial to Congress, praying for the pay due them,
and for the giving to each of a certain fixed sum in commutation of the
half pay referred to. This memorial was sent to Philadelphia in the hands
of a committee of officers, and provoked a long and angry debate, but it
was impossible to secure the votes of nine colonies requisite to its granting.
Upon news of this, an anonymous circular (\vhich afterwards proved to have
been written by General John Armstrong, a valuable and patriotic young
officer, who lived to sincerely repent his indiscretion) was distributed in
camp, couched in the most eloquent and inflammatory language, and contain-

FROM THE FALL OF YORKTOWN TO THE PEACE. 231

ing appeals to the officers, of a very dangerous tendency. It, in effect,
accused Congress of deliberately neglecting the demands of the army,
charged the people of the United States with ingratitude, and, saying that,
if the organized army of the United States were neglected, its individual
members, when it should be dissolved, could not hope for justice, called upon
them not to surrender their swords until their wrongs were righted ; to
give over sending memorials to Congress, and to forward their " final pro
test;" and to work upon the fears of that body, since its gratitude had failed
them.

When a copy of this incendiary document came into Washington's
hands, he was greatly concerned for its effect. Among other proposals it
had called for a meeting of the officers to be held on the following Tues
day, the nth of March. The first step of the commander was to publish a
counter address, expressing sympathy with the misfortunes of the army,
and anxiety for their relief, but strongly disapproving the attitude assumed
by the unknown writer of the circular. At the same time he invited the
officers of the army to meet him on Saturday, the i^th, to hear the report
of the committee, which had waited on Congress. "After mature delib
eration," he added, " they will devise what further measures ought to be
adopted, as most rational and best calculated to obtain the just and important
object in view. "

This wise and moderate appeal had the effect of bringing together the
officers of the army, almost to a man. The commander in chief then read
them an address, which can scarcely be equalled for wisdom, moderation,
sympathy, and effective appeal to the better sense of those whom it sought
to influence. How great this influence was, is indicated by the fact that
no sooner had he left the hall, than the meeting, upon motion of General
Knox, passed resolutions declaring warm reciprocation of the affection
which their commander in chief had avowed for them, implicit confidence in
his wisdom and sincerity, and a belief that Congress would see justice done.
The resolution also requested Washington to write to the president of that
body, urging that the needs of the army be relieved. I le accordingly at once
wrote a warm letter to the desired effect, and mail}' personal communica
tions to members, which ultimate!)' resulted in gaining long deferred justice.

During the month of March came welcome news from Paris of the con
clusion of the peace of Versailles, on the 2Oth of the previous January.
The treaty then signed was purely general,* yet it was difficult to impress the
rank of the army with that fact, and such as had enlisted for the term of the
war, were clamorous for their discharge. Again Washington wrote to Con
gress, representing the condition of affairs, and the decision was made that
the men were not entitled to a discharge until a definitive treaty of peace was

For particulars regarding the peace negotiation, see Life of John Adams, post.

232 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

signed, but giving Washington authority to grant furloughs and leave of
absence at his discretion. It was also determined, at his request, that every
man be allowed to retain his arms and equipments, as mementoes of the
service. Furloughs were granted right and left; — in fact, the majority of
the men were dismissed to their homes, never again to be calltd into service,
only enough being retained for the needs of a peace establishment. These
were retained until the formal dissolution of the army; some of them until
the militia of the country was organized to permanently replace them.

The first step taken by Carleton looking to the evacuation of New York,
was the sending of a fleet, laden with banished tories, to Nova Scotia,
where, as one of them gloomily expressed it, "they have winter for nine
months of the year, and cold weather for three." On the i8th of October,
Congress formally discharged the troops, save only the few above referred
to as awaiting the organization of the militia. This proclamation was fol
lowed by the famous farewell address of Washington to his men. The army
remained encamped upon the Hudson, under command of Knox, until sum
moned, early in November, to King's Bridge, to be prepared to move into
New York upon its evacuation by Carleton. So soon as this evacuation was
completed, the troops entered New York, preceded by Washington and his
staff, and Governor Henry Clinton and his suite, and accompanied by the
army of Rochambeau. Thus was completed the last formal military duty
of the commander in chief.

On the 4th of December, Washington left New York for Annapolis,
Maryland, where Congress was then sitting, for the purpose of presenting
his resignation to that body. "At noon," says Marshall, "the principal
officers of the army assembled at France's tavern in New York, soon after
which their beloved commander entered the room. His emotions were too
strong to be concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to them and said : ' With
a heart full of love and gratitude I now take leave of you. I most devoutly
wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former
ones have been glorious and honorable.' Having drank, he added : 'I
cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each
of you will come and take me by the hand.' General Knox, being nearest,
turned to him. Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand and
embraced him. In the same affectionate manner he took leave of each suc
ceeding officer. The tear of manly sensibility was in every eye, and not a
word was articulated to interrupt the dignified silence, and the tenderness of
the scene. Leaving the room he passed through the corps of light infantry,
and walked to White Hall, where a barge waited to carry him to Paulus
hook. The whole company followed in mute and solemn procession, with
dejected countenances, testifying feelings of delicious melancholy, which no
language can describe. Having entered the barge, he turned to the com
pany, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. They paid him the

FROM THE FALL OF YORKTOWX TO THE PEACE. 2^

same affectionate compliment; and, after the barge had left them, returned
in the same solemn manner to the place where they had assembled."

Washington went directly to Annapolis, and requested to be instructed
by Congress as to the most proper manner of presenting his resig
nation, — whether it should be sent in, in writing, or whether he should
appear before that body in person and present it more directly. Congress
indicated its preference for the latter course, and, on the 23d day of
December, at noon, he entered the hall to lay down the trust he had so
long and nobly borne. The hall was full to overflowing; members, by
virtue of their office, occupied their places, and sat covered; unofficial
spectator: filled the remainder of the room, standing, with bared heads,
and very many ladies were present. He was conducted to a seat by the
secretary of Congress, and it was announced that that body was prepared to
hear his communication. He then arose in his place, and presented his resig
nation, making a short and feeling address, of which the following is a part:
"The great events, on which my resignation depended, having at last taken
place, I now have the opportunity of offering my sincere congratulations to
Congress, and of presenting myself before them, to surrender into their
hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring

from the service of my country I consider it an indispensable

duty to close this last solemn act of my official life, by commending the
interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and
those who have the superintendence of them to His holy keeping. Having
now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theater of action ;
and bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders
I have long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the
employments of public life." Few eyes in all the house but were filled with
tears when this nobly simple farewell address was concluded. Had Wash
ington been the most theatrical and insincere of men, he could have devised
nothing which would so completely have captivated and melted his hearers
as this affecting farewell. Already, on his way to Annapolis, He had
paused at Philadelphia and adjusted his army accounts, which he had kept
with scrupulous nicety, throughout the war. All were for expenditures, for
he had avowed from the first his determination to accept no pay, for the
service of his country against Great Britain. No one should ever accuse him
of having turned rebel for hire. The total account rei dered against the
United States, covering a service of eight years, was for b1 I fourteen thousand
five hundred pounds sterling, and the payment of this sum left him still an
actual looser, as he had paid out many sums which he had never had time
to charge in his account.

Thus, having settled his financial affairs and resigned his commis
sion, Washington was again, and after a continuous service of more than
eight years, a private citizen. During that time he had visited his home

234 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

but twice, and neither time for more than a few hours ; he had undergone
hardship, deprivation, disappointment, misconception, obloquy. He had
been assailed by malignant enemies, and deserted by false friends; he
had suffered defeat without depression, and withstood victory without
exaltation. He had been the ridiculed commander of flying tatterde
malions, and the petted and eulogized conqueror of the flower of the
British chivalry. He had shown the courage not only to assail an enemy,
but to oppose a friend ; he had shown that he could be just when the popu
lar voice called for lenity; sparing when the outcry was for vengeance. He
had always borne the same calm, even front against the open dangers of a
doubtful war, and the insidious perils that wait upon success. He had
turned his back indignantly upon the suggestion of a crown. He had
earned from a whole people, undivided love ; from a whole world unqualified
respect. His passage thus quietly and unostentatiously, and, as a matter 01"
course, from such a lofty position, with such unlimited opportunities for
gratifying a corrupt ambition, to the remote seclusion of a Potomac planta
tion, has been justly considered one of the most remarkable, and one of the
grandest acts of history. So was his whole Mfe, before and after, devoted to
right, to the doing of single hearted and honest service to America, that he
well earned the title that millions have since learned to associate with his
name — that of the Father of his Country.

But one visible tie now bound Washington to his beloved companions
in arms ; that was their common membership in the Society of the Cincin
nati, to which a few words may well be devoted, in closing this chapter.
The order was formed in accordance with the suggestion of the warm
hearted Knox, as a means of keeping alive the friendships and the associa
tions of the Revolution. Baron Steuben drew its constitution, which pro
vided for the perpetuation of the society, by the descent of membership to
the eldest male son of each of the original members, or the passing of that
privilege to collateral heirs, in the event of a failure in the direct line. The
order was to be subdivided into state and district associations, and regular
meetings were stipulated and arranged for. To Washington was offered the
first presidency of this order, which has only to-day lapsed, by reason of
the jealous republicanism of the time following the war. The country took
alarm at it, imagining that the intention of its originators was to establish
an order of hereditary nobility ; public meetings denounced it ; state legis
latures took cognizance of it and deprecated its existence; Thomas Jeffer
son, and extreme republicans of his class, disapproved of it, and, finally, the
hereditary provision was stricken out, and the Society of the Cincinnati
perished from the earth, with the death of the brave men who were its
projectors.

HOME LIFE AND PRIVATE INTERESTS. 235

CHAPTER XXIX.

HOME LIFE AND PRIVATE INTERESTS.

HOME at last! Probably the words and the thought which they embody,
were never more sweet to any man, than were they to Washington
when he returned to Mount Vernon, and again took up the thread of the
pleasant rural life, which had been so rudely interrupted by the call to arms.
Surely no one ever settled more naturally and quietly, from the guardianship
of a nation to agriculture. In fact, all through the war Washington had
carried the map of his plantation with him, and had directed, if he could not
personally administer, his affairs. He had known every season what crops
each farm was devoted to, what the yield, price and profit or loss, so exact
and methodical was he, even in the field. It is not possible to follow
minutely in this work, the life of the late commander and coming president,
in the interval between the past which he had relinquished and the future
which he did not suspect. His house was open with its old-time generous
yet simple hospitality. He entertained all who came with any shadow of
title to recognition, and these were more and more, as the months and years
passed. Washington, by fighting with France and against England, had
become a man of note in the two leading nations of Europe, thence his
repute had spread over the continent, and his house was besieged by tourists
of every name and nationality; then, too, there came the leading men of
America, and, last and most welcome, those whom he loved as his own
brothers, — his old associates in arms. He possessed a liberal estate, but it
had not prospered as in the old days when he had superintended its conduct,
and there was free exportation of its tobacco ; he was cramped for money,
and did not cease to be so for some years. What was at first but an uncon-
venience, became, with the continual demands upon his hospitality, a positive
embarrassment The Pennsylvania legislature, knowing of the constant
throng of visitors coming to his door, thoughtfully called the attention of

236 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Congress to the facts, and recommended that some action be taken for his
relief. News of this movement came to him while he was in real anxiety,
and, to many men, would have come as a piece of good fortune, but he
respectfully and gratefully declined it, his pride of independence, and his
especial determination that his service of his country should be gratuitous,
standing as repellant sentinels at the opening of his empty purse. How
serious this embarrassment later became, is best illustrated by certain letters
published for the first time in Bancroft's History of the United States.
The first of these, addressed to his mother under date of February 17, 1787,
is as follow.^ :

"HONORED MADAM: — I have now demands upon me for more than
five hundred pounds, three hundred and forty odd of which are due for the
tax of ij86, and I know not where or when I shall receive one shilling with
which to pay it."

The second letter is addressed to his family physician, to whom he was
indebted in the sum of sixty pounds. It enclosed thirty pounds, and apolo
gized for not remitting the whole amount of the debt :

" I wish it was in my power to send the like sum for the other year,
which is now about or near due ; and that I could discharge your account
for attendance and ministries to the sick of my family, but really it is not,
for with much truth, I can say I never felt the want of money so sensibly
since I was a boy fifteen years old, as I have for the last twelve months, and
probably shall for twelve months more to come."

The last, and, evidently, to Washington, the most humiliating of these
letters, is addressed to Richard Conway, of New York city. It was written
on the 4th day of March, 1789, after his election to the presidency, for the
purpose of securing a loan from Conway, to enable him to pay the expense
of his inauguration, and is as follows :

" DEAR SIR : — Never, till within these two years, have I experienced the
want of money. Short crops, and other causes, not entirely within my con
trol, make me feel it now very sensibly. Under this statement I am inclined
to do what I never expected to be driven to — that is, to borrow money on
interest. Five hundred pounds would enable me to discharge what I owe
in Alexandria, etc. Having thus fully and candidly explained myself, per
mit me to ask if it is in your power to supply me with the above or a
smaller sum. Any security you may like I can give, and you may be
assured that it is no more my inclination than it can be yours, to let it
remain long unpaid."

At the moment when this letter was written, the United States owed
Washington not far from fifty thousand dollars, which it was ready to pay,
and he refused to accept. In the year of grace, 1887, there is, in the city
which bears his name, a monument to his memory which for many years

HOME LIFE AND PRIVATE INTERESTS. 237

was uncompleted for lack of funds ; and yet the Government has had the
use of the sum named for one hundred years.

In the month of September, 1784, Washington, in company with his
old friend, Dr. Clark, made a tour of inspection, which was at first intended
to cover all his lands west of the mountains, including extensive tracts
upon the Ohio and Kanawha. These he designed to survey and map, so
that they might be available for settlement or sale. The unquiet and dan
gerous condition of the Indian tribes rendered the penetration of the wilder
ness beyond Fort Pitt too hazardous to be attempted, and the two, with
their servants and pack-horses, contented themselves with proceeding as far
as that point, then made a rough march over the mountains, and, descending
into the Shenandoah, reached Mount Vernon, having, in little more than
a month, traveled more than six hundred miles, sleeping, for the most part,
in a tent, and renewing the experiences of the campaigning of more than
thirty years before, in the same region.

The expedition had another object beyond its private purpose, and one
of vastly more importance. Washington was thoroughly imbued with the
belief of the Roman emperors, that a road is the best civilizer. He saw
the magnificent resources of the West, lying, like diamonds in a Brazilian
river bed, only waiting to be uncovered and brought to the doors of the
settlement, to bring to America a vast population and wealth that should
make the shining shores of the Indies seem pitiful. He saw, too, the dan
gers arising from the existence of alien populations on either hand, the
British to the northward, with the command of the great lakes ; the Spanish
to the southward, with the Mississippi offering so easy a highway to the
sea. In all these he saw that the time might one day come when America
should lose by the finesse and natural advantages of her neighbors, what she
had won at so great cost of blood and treasure, — the whole of her vast inte
rior trade. Beyond this, he feared for the political allegiance of the commu
nities which were yet to come into being in the wilderness, should their
commercial connections be with foreign and possibly hostile nations. He
was no prophet, and could not foretell the intervention of steam in the set
tlement of the great problem. His view comprehended the rising of a
mighty people, which should grow from year to year, indefinitely, and thar
the improvement of water communication, and the extension of the great
highway system, were the only possibilities of providing for this great
growth.

Before the Revolution Washington had carefully considered the subject
of inland communication, and had become convinced of the feasibility of
easy and cheap communication between the waters of the Potomac and
James rivers and those of the Monongahela and Ohio, and thence, by the
construction of canals, to the great lakes. He had great confidence that this
alone was necessary to attract to Virginia a great volume of trade, at

238 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

once to develop the new West and add to the commerce of his beloved
state. His plan was discussed in private circles, and received with so much
favor, that he was led to visit Richmond and lay the matter before the state
legislature. He arrived at the capital on the I5th of November, 1784,
and wras met by a committee of five members of the House, headed by
Patrick Henry, which received him with every demonstration of profound
respect and affection. His suggestions were received, and the action which
resulted was the first systematic step in the great series of internal
improvements undertaken by Virginia, and afterward imitated by every
state in the country. He later attended a meeting, held at Annapolis,
by committees from the states of Maryland and Virginia, to devise means
for the improvement of the navigation of the James and Potomac rivers.
Two companies were formed for the purpose, and he was made president of
each. In addition, it was voted that forty shares of stock of the James
company, and one hundred shares of that of the Potomac company, be set
aside for him, as an indication of indebtedness to him for his services in the
matter. He had thus far refrained from accepting money, or its equivalent,
for any public service, yet he felt that to decline outright the generous
offer thus made would be to slight the men who were so evidently sincere.
Hence he compromised by accepting the stock, which was worth about
forty thousand dollars, in trust for some educational purpose. Thus it was
eventually bestowed.

Washington's home life was like that of any other private gentleman of
Virginia, save for the added duties of hospitality and business which the
veneration and love of his countrymen and of the world forced upon him.
His correspondence was immense, and he was obliged to employ a private
secretary. Constant demands that he should sit for his portrait \vere com
plied with, and, as a result, the world has a magnificent collection of repre
sentations of his face. He tells, in answer to a letter begging for a sitting,
how he was at first restive as a colt under the saddle, when submitting to
the process ; how he acceded to the second request with regret, but had at
last come to go to the artist's chair as docilely as any dray horse to the
thills. To his farms, of more than three thousand six hundred acres of cul
tivated land, he gave his personal attention, arising before dawn, and imme
diately after breakfast making a tour of his various fields in the saddle.
Socially he was wont to be grave, yet would often unbend and sometimes
laugh most heartily; he was a most courteous host; by his family and ser
vants he was loved and respected, never feared. His will was so absolutely
the law of the household, that those about him were unconscious of the
happy despotism under which they lived. He stocked his farm with deer ;
he occasionally followed the hounds as, when but a stripling, he rode beside
the sturdy old Fairfax. As he had proved equal to the emergencies of war,
so now, with rarer greatness, he settled himself to a quiet and unostenta-

HOME LIFE AND PRIVATE INTERESTS. 239

tious life of peace. His letters during that period are full of the odor of
the fields; he seems entirely happy in his life and, in at least one letter,
avows his determination to pass the remainder of his days in the comfort of
domestic life. How little he foresaw the future ! Already events without the
charmed environment of the Mt. Vernon life, had aroused his deep solici
Uide. The Confederation was little more than a shadow. Congress, the
creature of the states, was powerless to enforce its own measures. The
states which had been parties by representation, to the peace compact,
refused to recognize their treaty obligations. Wild schemes of agrarianism
and for an irredeemable paper currency gained consideration. Washington
kept up a large correspondence with Knox, Lee, and others ; writing purely
as a private citizen, and arrogating to himself no especial influence, he urged
a more substantial union, and the endowment of Congress with sufficient
powers to give that body dignity and authority.

The result of the public agitation arising from the abuses of govern
ment, was to lead to the forming of a project for a convention, to devise a
form of government, and to frame a constitution for the United States.
This ripened, and Washington was named to head the Virginia delegation.
His first desire was to evade the duty, but many considerations — not the
least of which was that the popular feeling imputed monarchial sympathies
to such as did not take an active part in advancing the aims of the conven
tion — united in causing him to alter his mind, and accept the appointment.
He set out from his home on the pth of May to attend the convention.
It was his desire to travel without any ostentation, but the spontaneous
demonstrations of the people could not be avoided. He was not suffered
to pass through any town without some indication of enthusiasm, and when
he reached the environs of Philadelphia, was met by an escort of cavalry,
under General St. Clair, and was constrained to mount a beautiful white
horse, led for his use, and make a kind of triumphal entry.

The history of the convention, which was tardy in beginning its delibera
tions, and continued them during seven hours of each day for four months,
is given at length in a later portion of this work. Washington was unani
mously chosen its president, and was by that fact cut off from any great
active part in the deliberations and debates of the body. Yet his influence
was doubtless efficiently given to the promotion of the objects which he
deemed most important to be accomplished.

After the adjournment of the convention, Washington returned to
Mount Vernon, and awaited anxiously the necessary ratification of the
Constitution by nine of the thirteen colonies. This, in due time, came,
much to his relief. Even before the ratification, there had been unmistak
able indications of a popular desire to make Washington president of the
new United States. This was a new source of anxiety, and there is no
question that he sincerely considered the necessity of facing the question,—

24O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

much more of answering it in the affirmative, — as a personal misfortune. His
friends and the best friends of the country, anticipating his selection and
objections, wrote him strong and urgent letters begging him to accept the
honor, should it be offered. Some of his letters on the subject demand
quotation. The following was written in answer to a letter received from
Colonel Henry Lee:

" The event to which you allude, may never happen. This considera
tion, alone, would supersede the expediency of announcing any definitive
and irrevocable resolution. You are among the small number of those who
know my invincible attachment to domestic life, and that my sincerest wish
is to continue in the enjoyment of it solely, until my final hour. But the
world would be neither so well instructed, nor so candidly disposed as to
believe me uninfluenced by sinister motives, in case any circumstance should
render a deviation from the line of conduct I had prescribed to myself
indispensable ; should my unfeigned reluctance to accept the office, be over
come by a deference for the reasons and opinions of my friends, might I
not, after the declarations I have made (and heaven knows they were made
in the sincerity of my heart) in the judgment of the impartial world and of
posterity, be chargable with levity and inconsistency, if not with rashness
and ambition. Nay, further, would there not be some apparent foundation
for the two former charges? Now, justice to myself and tranquility of
conscience require that I should act a part, if not above imputation, at
least capable of vindication. Nor will you conceive me to be too solicitous
for reputation. Though I prize, as I ought, the good opinion of my fellow
citizens, yet, if I know myself, I would not seek popularity at the expense
of one social duty or moral virtue. While doing what my conscience
informed me was right, as it respected my God, my country and myself, I
should despise all the party clamor and unjust censure which must be
expected from some whose personal enmity might be expected from their
hostility to the government. I am conscious that I fear alone to give any
real cause for obloquy, and that I do not dread to meet with unmerited
reproach. And, certain I am, whensoever I shall be convinced the good of
my country requires my reputation to be put in risk, regard for my own
fame will not come in competition with an object of such magnitude. If 1
declined the task, it would lie upon quite another principle. Notwithstand
ing my advanced season of life, my increasing fondness for agricultural
amusements, and my growing love of retirement augment and confirm my
decided predilection for the character of a private citizen, yet it would be no
one of these motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might
be exposed, nor the terror of encountering new fatigues and troubles, that
would deter me from an acceptance • but a belief that some other person,
who had less pretension and less inclination to be excused, could execute all
the duties full as satisfactorily as myself."

HOME Lirtc AND PRIVATE INTERESTS. 24*

In writing to Colcnel Alexander Hamilton, on the same subject, he
says :

" In making a survey of the subject, in whatever point of light I have
been able to place it, I have always felt a kind of gloom upon my mind, as
often as I have been taught to expect I might, and perhaps must, ere long,
be called upon to make a decision. You will, I am sure, believe the asser
tion, though I have little expectation it would gain credit from those who
are less acquainted with me, that, if I should receive the appointment, and
if I should be prevailed upon to accept it, the acceptance would be attended
with more diffidence and reluctance than I ever experienced before in my
life. It would be, however, with a fixed and sole determination of lending
whatever assistance might be in my power, to promote the public weal, in
hopes that, at a convenient and early period, my services might be dispensed
with, and that I might be permitted once more to retire, to pass an
unclouded evening, after the stormy day of life, in the bosom of domestic
tranquility. "

After the ratification of the constitution, Congress appointed the first
Wednesday of January, 1789, as a day for holding an election, and the first
Wednesday of February following, for the meeting of the electoral college.

On the latter day, Washington was duly elected President for the four
years following March 4, 1789. This vote was, by reason of a delay in
obtaining a quorum of Congress, uncounted until early in April, and, on
the 1 4th of the same month, Washington received notice that he was unani
mously chosen by the college. Ere this, the arguments of his friends, and
his own careful consideration, had combined to convince him that it was his
duty to accept the trust, and, on the i6th, he set out for New York to take
the oath of office. His journey was a triumph ; his reception at New York
an ovation. As he crossed the bay from Elizabethtown point, every vessel
in the harbor saluted him, and a gay procession of decked and garlanded
barges followed. Arrived in the city, he expressed a wish to walk to his
lodgings, and, on the way, was compelled again and again to pause and
uncover before the enthusiastic people, bowing his acknowledgments to
the ladies who showered flowers upon him from the upper windows.
On the 3Oth day of April, at noon, the city soldiery formed before his
house, and escorted him to the hall of Congress, where, upon the open bal
cony, before the Senate chamber, the oath of office was administered by
the chancellor of the state of New York. Then cannon roared, flags
waved, and the voices of thousands united in acclaims to the first President
of die United States. Entering the Senate chamber, he delivered his
inaugural address, and thence, on foot, proceeded, solemnly and reverently
to St. Paul's church, where prayers were raised for blessings upon the work
of the dav.

242 GEORGE WASHINGTON

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE FIRST PRESIDENCY.

"TV TATURALLY, the first, while it was the least important, question,
^^ which met Washington at the outset of his Presidential career, was
that of the etiquette of his office. There were no social canons to be applied
to the matter. The office was a new one, and without parallel in the his
tory of nations, and he was menaced, on the one hand, by the danger of
offending the people by too much pomp and display, and, on the other, of
sacrificing its dignity by making too small account of the usages of the
world. In this dilemma he appealed to those about him who, in his
view, were best fitted to advise in so delicate a matter. The first of these
was John Adams, who had been for several years the holder of various com
missions to "the politest court in Europe." The second was Hamilton;
the others, Jay and Madison. But two of the written reports, made in def
erence to this request, survive ; the first is that of John Adams, the second
that of Hamilton. These two do not agree in all points, nor do they, ac
cording to modern ideas, disagree in any essential particular. They simply
vary as to the number of receptions to be given weekly, and the number of
hours to be daily devoted by the President to miscellaneous business inter
views. Washington finally determined for himself, that he would give one
reception a week; two or four state dinners a year, and informal dinners
upon each reception day. That he would go abroad among his personal
friends, but never as President; that his hours for general business reception
should be from 8 until 10 o'clock in the morning, and that he should only
be constantly accessible to members of his cabinet and to foreign ministers.
The more minute regulation of etiquette was committed to Colonel Hum
phrey, and was, in some respects, modified by the President, as he con
ceived that Humphrey's life at the court of France, where he had been sec
retary of Jefferson, had, in a measure, turned his head. Thus much is said
to show how little Washington did, concerning this important matter, with

AKTIIfK ST. CI.AIH.

THE FIRST PRESIDENCY.

out the advice of those about him. While conscious of the necessity of
maintaining the dignity of his position, he was equally solicitous of avoiding
idle and childish parade, and the appearance of having been carried away
with his advancement to the Presidency. How important were these pre
cautions, thrown about the comparatively trivial matter of etiquette, is
clearly shown by the unsparing criticisms afterward made by certain ultra
democratic republicans, upon the simple and decent state maintained by the
President of the United States and his lady. Some accused the latter of
holding "queenly drawing rooms," and "regal assemblies;" others said
there was greater ceremony at New York than at the court of St. James,
and especially among the sympathizers with the French revolution there
were many \vho took every occasion to sneer at the conduct of the house
hold. These latter had the confidence and sympathy of no less a man than
Thomas Jefferson, who, though scrupulously respectful to the name and per
son of the President, could not resist criticising the methods of his house
hold, its ceremonies and restrictions. Jefferson warmly sympathized with
those who directed the revolution of '93, and, great as he was, could hardly
distinguish between form and substance; could scarcely recognize how a
laced doublet might clothe a reformer, and a black coat an usurper.

Mrs. Washington Came from Mount Yernon and assumed her place at the
head of the Nation's household; this she maintained to the end with that
dignity, apart from pretension, and that courtesy, quite unlike familiarity,
which combined so wonderfully in her, and marked her as the foremost
hostess in America. From the hour of her coming, the weekly levees were
crowded, and the informal dinner parties, given upon reception nights, were
the delight of the fortunate guests.

Passing, with this hint, to the loth of September, 1/89, the reader is
brought to the time when Congress provided for the institution of the
department of foreign affairs, — since known as the Department of State, —
and a Department of War. On the ensuing day, the President nominated
General Knox to be Secretary of War. Soon after, he paid the highest
compliment ever given to youth in the United States, by naming Alexander
Hamiton, Secretary of the Treasury. The financial condition of America
was truly alarming. With all her splendid resources, her obligations for a
few, — less than fifty, — paltry millions of dollars, were unpaid, uncollectable,
and sold at a discount upon the market of the world. To the untrodden
paths of the Nation's finance, the President appointed Hamilton, who, in
common with the man who signed his commission, had a chaos to reduce, a
system to create, a floating debt to fund, without any existing system of
money-raising; and a National credit to drag from the slough of depreciation
and repudiation in which it was bemired, and place upon a footing which
should render the Government at once effective and respectable.

The Department of Justice was next organized, and its port-folio was

244 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

offeree to, and accepted by, Edmund Randolph, of Virginia, who had
refused to sign the constitution, because it provided for a single head,
instead of the three associated executive officers, which he deemed more
safe and fitting. He had afterward supported the constitution in the Vir
ginia legislature and voted for its ratification. The Department of State
remained. In casting about for some one who might well and wisely fill its
requirements, Washington settled upon Thomas Jefferson. The latter
was not yet returned from France, where he was serving as minister pleni
potentiary, but was on his way to America, having received leave, for a
time, to visit his home, for domestic reasons. Upon his return he accepted
the office, and entered upon the discharge of its duties. Jefferson's reasons
for acceptance ; a minute account of his subsequent attitude; the history of
his contest with Hamilton, and his leadership of the new Democratic party,
are discussed in his biography, at a later page of this volume.

Already, at the very outset of the new experiment in government,
there had come into being embryo parties, divided upon vital issues. The
first were warm and confident friends of the constitution ; the second dis
trusted it, deeming that it represented dangerous tendencies toward centrali
zation, and the most earnest, and not the least honest of them, holding that
its framers and advocates were monarchists at heart, and would, in time, add
to the constitution the investment of a king. The first named was known
as the Federalist party, and Alexander Hamilton was soon its recognized
head. In opposition was the Democratic party, with states' rights, limita
tion of the power of the executive, and restriction of the functions of the
general government strictly within the limits of necessity, as its principles.
Jefferson led this party, and, upon any party test, Edmund Randolph voted
with him. That Washington, who, while a friend of the constitution, was
not a partisan, recognized this tendency to party crystalization, is unques
tionable; that he formed his cabinet not for the purpose of securing so-called
harmony, and invariable coincidence with his own views, but that he might
have the opinions of the ablest men of either inclining, is equally certain.
Then, too, he preferred that, should there be a contest, its leaders should
settle it by discussion within the cabinet, rather than by agitation without.
So much for the cabinet.

Washington's first term was one of organization, and a marvelously suc
cessful one. Its salient features were the financial schemes of Hamilton.
Beyond these there was little of interest, and even they cannot be discussed
at length. Reducing them to episodes, they were: the funding of the pub
lic debt, involving the assumption of debts contracted by the various states,
in the prosecution of the late war ; the imposition of imposts and excise
duties, to provide means for the payment of the principal and interest of
national indebtedness ; and the establishment of a national bank. These
plans required much time for their execution, and were only carried into

THE FIRST PRESIDENCY.

245

effect in the face of the bitterest opposition. The first named met with the
decided disfavor of some sections, especially of the South, it being openly
asserted that the assumption of the state debts was but part of a plan advo
cated by the Northern and Eastern states, which were thus made large
creditors of the government, and had determined to collect their debts
through the agency of their representatives in Congress. The measure was
only passed by a vote of fourteen to twelve in the Senate, and the decisive
voices came from Virginia, which was friendly to the administration at that
time, by reason of the provision made that the capital should be temporarily
— for ten years — located at Philadelphia, and, during that time, a site should
be selected and buildings erected upon the Potomac river, for the permanent
.accommodation of the government. Thus was taken the first step toward
vhe financial establishment of America.

The proposal for imposts and excise met with no less opposition.
.\ffecting the importation and domestic manufacture of liquor, it was warmly
contested in Congress, and when, having been adopted by a small majority,
Jt was placed upon the statute books, there began that constant and deter
mined evasion of its provisions which has never since ceased. Yet the fund-
rng of the debt and the collection of a revenue were thus provided for.
For the securing of a stable currency and the relief of the immediate finan
cial needs of the country, there was introduced, upon the reassembling of
congress at Philadelphia in 1790, a project for the organization of a
national bank. These pages are not suited to the discussion of the economical
question involved in the establishment of such a bank. Jefferson opposed
the project with all his heart and soul. He held that paper currency, while
it might be convenient, tended to encourage speculation, unsettle values,
and to make the people a prey to speculators and financial tricksters. From
*hese opinions he never receded, yet there was, at the time, a second and
powerful reason for his opposition. He distrusted Hamilton's political
principles, and he saw, in the banking scheme, a stupendous possibility of
increasing the power and influence of the treasury, and making it the basis
for the increase of the central power, to the possible overturning of the
republic and the establishment of a monarchy. He did not doubt Washing
ton, nor did he question the sincerity of Hamilton's convictions, but regard
ing the latter as the American incarnation of the monarchial principle, and
fearing that the President's confidence in the man might blind him to political
methods, the consequences of which he could not but regard as necessarily
pernicious, Jefferson opposed Hamilton and his plans, day by day, with
greater vigor. He himself says that they were daily pitted against each
other, in cabinet meetings, like two cocks, — Jefferson supported by Ran
dolph ; Hamilton, by Knox. This state of affairs aroused grave anxiety in
the mind of Washington. He kept an even course in the cabinet; used his
influence to quiet the discords which distracted it: retained Jefferson as a

246 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

member, when he was almost determined to give up his port-folio, and,
while he personally approved Hamilton's policy, and signed the bills passed
by Congress to carry it into effect, kept the confidence and esteem of every
member of his political family. The disagreements between his two princi
pal cabinet officers continued. It was a subject of remark in public, of
comment in the press, and, finally, of personal contest between the two, in
the gazettes. Then the president interfered, made personal appeals to
each, and succeeded in modifying their acts and words, if he could not remove
the personal feeling between them.

Twice, during his first term, Washington made extensive journeys, —
once to New England ; once as far south as Savannah, Georgia. These
were undertaken partially for pleasure, and more in pursuance of a settled
and characteristic determination to make himself familiar with the geograph
ical, social, political, and industrial interests of his country. He traveled
quietly in his carriage, always striving to escape the formality of public
receptions, — almost invariably compelled to submit to them.

During all the momentous progress of the revolution in France, he
maintained an active correspondence with Lafayette, whose prominent part
in the great political drama entitled him to speak with authority. Feeling
deep interest in France, Washington could not but sympathize with the
wishes of the best of the popular leaders — men like Lafayette, — that she
should have a constitution, yet he felt, and frequently expressed, a fear that
the lawless element of the people, which eventually precipitated the terrible
outrage and bloodshed of the days of August, might wreck the plans of those
better advised but less numerous than they. The event was more a shock
than a surprise to him, for, while feeling how important to the American
political experiment was a moderate exercise of the popular power in France,
he had felt little confidence that such would be secured.

Early in his term, wearied with strife and bickering, weak in body from
illness which closely menaced his life, Washington had developed a sincere
desire to give up his charge when the four years of his service should have
expired. The more he thought, and the farther proceeded the struggle of the
time, the more strong became this longing for the regretted tranquility of
his home life. He felt that years of hard work had told upon his bodil>
strength, and he had a sensitive fear lest there should be a corresponding
mental decadence, affecting his efficiency, and visible to the world, which he
could not detect. Feeling thus, he appealed to Madison, in whose honesty
and good judgment he had the greatest confidence, to know whether he was
called upon to make an avowal of his intentions ; whether, if such were
necessary, that avowal should be in writing, or verbally communicated, and
requesting, should a written announcement be deemed suitable, that Madi
son should formulate it. He, at the same time, suggested certain heads to
be embodied in the communication. Madison answered by protesting

THE FIRST PRESIDENCY. 2.J./

against his withdrawal from public life at so critical a time, but expressed
his judgment that, should the decision be irrevocable, an announcement
and farewell address, in writing, should be simultaneously promulgated, and
submitted a draft of the latter. The knowledge of an intention, on his
part, to retire from public life, led Washington's confidential friends and
advisers, of the most diverse opinions, to unite in urging him to defer such
action, and to allow his appreciation of public exigencies to overrule his
inclination. Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox, and Randolph, and many without
the cabinet, so expressed themselves. In the meantime, external events
had their influence; the opposition to the excise laws, in western Pennsyl
vania, had made necessary an act of Congress, authorizing the President to
call out the militia, for the enforcement of the law. Loth to resort to
extreme measures, Washington issued a proclamation, calling upon the
people to desist from unlawful combinations and proceedings, and directed
all magistrates of the state to bring offenders to justice. Me anticipated
the necessity for further action, which afterwards arose; the war in the
cabinet, and the uncompleted application of new measures, united with the
arguments of his friends to convince him that it was still his duty to servo
the nation, hence, after painful consideration he determined, if such should
be the will of the people, to again accept the charge which had been so
heavy a burthen, and was, for a second time, elected President of the
United States.

24 8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TERM.

ON the 4th of March, 1793, Washington, for a second time, took the
oath of office. Before its administration, he said: "I am again
called upon by the voice of my country, to execute the functions of its
chief magistrate. When the occasion, proper for it, shall arrive, I shall
endeavor to express the high sense I entertain of this distinguished honor,
and of the confidence which has been reposed in me by the people of the
United States. Previous to the execution of any official act of the Presi
dent, the constitution requires an oath of office. This oath I am now about
to take, and in your presence, that, if it shall be proved, during my admin
istration of the government, I have in any instance violated, willingly or
knowingly, any of the injunctions thereof, I may, besides incurring consti
tutional punishment, be subjected to the upbraidings of all who are now
witnesses of the present solemn ceremony."

John Adams was again Vice-President, and the administration'opened
with the same cabinet which had advised the President during his former
term. The first difficulty which faced the administration was that arising
from the terrible condition of French affairs. Louis XVI. had fled, and
been recaptured ; the monarchy was overthrown ; Paris, and all France, was
red with the blood of victims of the "summary justice" of the mob. Lafay
ette was too conservative ; he first lost influence, and, later, as Governeur
Morris, minister of the United States to the destroyed monarchy, said,
would have been torn to pieces, had he fallen into the hands of the red-
handed sans-culottcs. Then the king, later the innocent queen, was
beheaded ; then came the republic of Robespierre and Marat, the fall of one
city after another before the army of the people — then war with Eng
land. The unthinking people of the United States still were clamorous for
an alliance with France, and eager to wreck their new nationality by inter
ference in a European war; they regarded the republic of France as heir to

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TEfvM. 249

the debt of gratitude which America had owed to the murdered king.
Washington called a cabinet council to consider the attitude of America
toward the belligerent powers. Even Jefferson, more than half a Jacobin,
could see how disastrous intervention must prove, and the cabinet was
unanimous against it. It was, however, determined to recognize the
republic, and to receive any minister which it might accredit to the United
States.

Notice soon came, that Citizen Genet had been named as minister of
France, and his coming was looked for with a curiosity not unmixed with
apprehension, as Morris had given notice that he bore with him a large
number of commissions for privateers, signed in blank, and intended
endeavoring to enlist adventurous American sailors against the shipping of
Great Britain. To guard against such action — the cabinet concurring—
Washington issued his famous proclamation, commanding all American
citizens to maintaii a strict neutrality between the contending powers. The
policy then adopted has ever since been adhered to, by America, and has
proved her salvation, but, so blind was the enthusiasm of the people, it was
then received with a discontent, at first restrained by respect for Washing
ton, but gradually growing into murmurs, protests, and final indignant
demonstration. Even his great service and well established position in the
affection of his countrymen, did not save him from private abuse and public
caricature, ridicule, and insult, which never ceased until the question
ceased to be one of living interest. Yet no act of his long and useful life
better deserves the gratitude of his people, than the making of this procla
mation and the firmness with which the principles therein enunciated were
maintained.

Before news of the proclamation had reached all parts of the Union.
Genet arrived in America, not coming, as is the custom of diplomacy, to
the most convenient port, making haste to the capital, presenting his cre
dentials and asking recognition, but sailing in a French man-of-war to Charles
ton. There he was received with the wildest enthusiasm — enthusiasm which
turned his head, and led him to forget the obligations of his position, and
issue commissions to several privateers. From Charleston to Philadelphia
his journey was a triumph, — more like a royal progress, than the passage of
a simple "citizen" of the French republic. He arrived at the capital, and
on the igtli of May, 1/93, presented his letters, and, in spite of his indis
creet actions, which had already been made a subject of complaint by the
British minister, was received with courtesy.

The frigate Ambuscade, which brought Genet to America, captured a
British merchantman off the capes of the Delaware, in American waters, and
brought the prize to Philadelphia. Other vessels were captured on the
high seas, by the privateers fitted out at Charleston, and were brought into
American ports. The British minister demanded the restitution of these

GEORGE WASHINGTON.

vessels. The cabinet unanimously determined that the first mentioned be
returned, but was divided as to those taken at sea, Hamilton and Knox
favoring a like action in those cases, while Jefferson and Randolph desired
to submit the matter to the courts. This was finally determined upon, and,
at the same time, the governments of France and Great Britain were formally
notified of the determination of America, not only to maintain a position of
neutrality as a nation, but to compel its citizens to regard the same.

Genet was very. indignant at this determination; he accused the Presi
dent of exceeding his authority, and threatened an appeal to the people,
whom he knew to be with him. The arrest of two American citizens for
enlisting upon a privateer, and their imprisonment to await trial, added to
his anger, and drew from him a very lofty, if not impudent, letter to the
Secretary of State, which did not secure any modification of the position of
the government. Subsequent words and acts of Genet placed him beyond
the pale of even official indulgence. A vessel captured by a French cruiser,
was brought to Philadelphia, during the absence of Washington, armed,
fitted as a privateer, and manned with American seamen. The state authori
ties of Pennsylvania, in compliance with a request addressed by Washing
ton to them, in common with the governments of the other states, prepared
to forcibly prevent the sailing of the ship. This resulted in an interview
between Genet and Jefferson, in which the Secretary of State requested that
the vessel be detained until the President should have returned. Genet
evaded making a promise, but led Jefferson to understand that he acquiesced,
yet the privateer dropped to Chester, and thence, after the return of Wash
ington, but before any action could be taken, put to sea. This deliberate
defiance of the American government, on the part of Genet, taken in con
nection with the increasingly insolent tone of his official communications,
led to a demand for his recall by the French government, though, to pre
vent inconvenience, it was arranged that his communications should be
received in writing, pending the arrival of a successor. The executive coun
cil of the French republic did not undertake to excuse its minister, but
recalled him, and accredited M. Fauchet. Genet was in New York at the
time he learned of the demand for his recall, and became so abusive that the
cabinet was obliged, at last, to cease even written communication with him.
He then again began to talk of appealing to the people, and thus so alarmed
the national pride of many who had been his friends, that he lost his influ
ence, and found himself in a minority. He afterward married a daughter
of George Clinton, and passed the remainder of his life in New York.*

Jefferson had yielded to Washington's request that he should withhold
his resignation of the secretaryship of state, only on condition that it
should be accepted at the close of the year 1/93. On the 3ist day of

•See Life of Jefferson, for further particulars of this affair.

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TEl'.M. 25!

December he forwarded it to the President, who was fain to accept it.
Edmund Randolph was named and confirmed his successor, and William
Bradford, of Pennsylvania, assumed the vacant attorney generalship.

Great Britain showed little appreciation of the efforts of the Govern
ment of the United States to maintain its neutrality. A blockade was
made against France, and all vessels laden with grain and provisions were
seized, their cargoes sold in England, and the money paid to the owners, or
their disposal in some neutral port compelled. Americans suffered seriously
by this policy, and there was so great feeling that war seemed inevitable.
This bitterness was heightened by the frequent impressment of American
seamen, for service in the British navy. Fortunately there came fiom
Pinckney, American minister to England, news that the blockade had been
lifted, and that the British minstry had explained that, while American
shipping had suffered, it had been only in common with that of other
nations, and there had been no intention to injure America more than was
unavoidable. This prevented the precipitation of a war.

Still the cry of the friends of France was that the insult to America
should be avenged, and, to counteract this influence, \Yashington deter-
mined to send a special envoy to England, to represent to that government
the damage done America, and demand indemnification. This plan was
loudly condemned by the incendiary part}', as cowardly and beneath the
dignity of the United States, and this clamor became doubly loud, when
the name of Hamilton, the leading Federalist, was unofficially mentioned
in connection with the mission. Washington was not wont to be influenced
by the popular outcry. The project was carried out, and John Jay named
and confirmed as envoy. Nevertheless, the House of Representatives
passed a resolution to cut off all communication with England, and only
the casting vote of the Vice President defeated the measure in the Senate.
At very nearly the same time, the French government requested, as an act of
reciprocity, that Governeur Morris, whose ideas were too aristocratic for their
ideas, be recalled from France. Though Morris had given entire satisfaction
to America, and still possessed the confidence of the President and cabinet,
it was deemed best to recall him, and James Monroe was named in his
stead.

During the continuance of the French revolution, there had grown up
in America a number of democratic societies, modeled on the Jacobin clubs
of Paris. The effect of these had been to stimulate the growth of a false
independence, which tended to the defiance of authority. A practical effect
of this was seen in August, 1794, when the dissatisfaction with the excise
laws, which had evoked a proclamation from Washington during his first
term, resulted in open revolt of certain citizens of western Pennsylvania.
Indictments having been obtained against some of the violators of the law,
an officer was despatched to arrest them. Upon the road he was fired upop

252 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

and barely escaped with his life. The house of the inspector of revenue
was then attacked, but the mob was repulsed. Withdrawing, it obtained
new force and returned. As the local militia had shown little disposition to
attack the rioters, a small guard from Fort Pitt had been stationed in the
house. This was compelled to march out and ground arms, but the
inspector and marshal fortunately evaded their assailants, and escaped down
the Ohio to a place of safety.

Upon learning of this outrage, Washington issued a proclamation, call
ing upon the insurgents to disperse to their homes before the first day of
the ensuing September, or force would be brought against them to compel
submission. It was then openly boasted that they could and would bring
seven thousand men into the field, and oppose any effort to coerce them.
Washington was not slow in responding to this challenge. He made a
requisition upon the states of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland, for
militia, and placed the whole under "Light Horse Harry" Lee, then gov
ernor of Virginia. The veteran major-general, Morgan, volunteered to
accompany the expedition, which moved during the month of September,
numbering fifteen thousand men. The approach of such a force was too
much for the insurgents, who threw down their arms and begged for
mercy. Some were tried for treason, but none convicted, and, so far as
the participants were concerned, the affair ended with the leaving of a small
body of men, under General Morgan, in the district. It did not, however,
end there with Washington. In his next message to Congress, he boldly
threw down the gauntlet to the Jacobin societies, charging them with the
responsibility for the insurrection, and condemning them as pernicious in
the highest degree. The result was exactly what he had doubtless antici
pated. It aroused the democratic members of both houses, and in the
House of Representatives, that clause of the message was passed with
pointed silence. The societies had, however, received a death blow in the
downfall and execution of Robespierre, and shortly sank into disrepute, both
in France and America. Especially in the United States, the native sense
of the people made this downfall most speedy and complete.

On the 2Oth day of January, 1795, Hamilton performed the last act of
his life as Secretary of the Treasury, in proposing an admirably digested
plan for the redemption of the public debt, and, in furtherance of a long
cherished desire, retired to private life. Washington had been constantly ac
customed to his advice and assistance for more than ten years, and the regret
which he felt at losing him was only tempered by the happy prospect of so
soon following his example. Knox, too, retired from the Cabinet at the
close of December, and only Randolph, of its original members, remained.
This, though a lesser loss, was nevertheless keenly felt. Washington named
Oliver Wolcott, of Connecticut, for the treasury, and Timothy Pickering
for the war office, and both were confirmed. The most anxious solicitude

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TERM.

pervaded the President's mind regarding the negotiation of Mr. Jay, for a
settlement of commercial differences with England. He knew he had gravely
imperiled his popularity by entering into the negotiation, and that its fail
ure would be certain to result unpleasantly to him. Beyond this, and far
more important, he felt that the peace and prosperity of the country
depended upon a happy issue of the affair. The treaty was finally arranged
between Mr. Jay and the British commissioners, on the I9th of November,
1794, but the copy sent on for ratification was only received on the 5th of
March, 1795, four days after Congress adjourned. The President at once
gave it a most critical examination, and found it to be, as he had anticipated,
an affair of give and take. Nevertheless, he felt that the United States was
promised advantages which would more than outweigh her concessions,
hence he determined to ratify the treat)- should it be approved by the Sen
ate. The Senate being convened on the 8th day of June, took up the
treaty, article by article, and with closed doors discussed it most laboriously
It was desired to keep its matter from public knowledge until it had been
acted upon, yet much was reported concerning it, and principally regarding
the features most open to objection. The result was to raise a most unrea
sonable storm, and to bring down upon the head of Washington abuse more
bitter and hard to bear than any of that which had ever before been directed
at him. Finally, a Democratic Senator gave an abstract of the document
to an opposition paper of Philadelphia, and it was published, adding fuel to
the already furious flame of public feeling. Yet the Senate confirmed the
treaty, save one article, the effect of which was to limit the trade of the
Southern states, and with the West Indies. Violent public demonstrations
against the treaty were made in all the larger cities and towns, and, at New
York and Philadelphia it was burned — in the latter city, before the house ol
the British minister.

To one of Washington's sensitive honor and consciousness of perfect
rectitude, this was sufficiently trying to excuse him for ardently desiring
escape from his unsought office. Yet there was another heavy trial awaiting
him. While he was considering the question as to ratifying the treat}', he
learned that England had renewed the order as to the interception of vessels
bound for French ports. Directing that a strong memorial be drawn up and
dispatched to England, protesting against its action, he retired to Mount
Vernon, there to snatch a few days of much needed rest. He had been at
home but a short time when he received a mysterious letter from Pinckney
Secretary of the Navy, urging him to come at once to Philadelphia, and to
do no important executive act until he should reach that city. Such a
message did not permit of delay, and he answered the summons at once.
Pinckney then laid before him a dispatch of Fauchet, late French minister,
recently supplanted by M. Adet. This was an official communication writ
ten to his government, and had been found upon a captured French privateer,

254 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

sent to Lord Granville, and the latter, finding that it referred to the relations
between Fauchct and Randolph, Secretary of State, had forwarded it to
America. This intercepted dispatch contained the following words, written
in the confidence of official intercourse, and referring to the Pennsylvania
insurrection and proclamation: "Two or three days before the proclamation
was published," he wrote, "and, of course, before the cabinet had resolved
on its measures, the Secretary of State came to my house. All his counte
nance was grief. He requested of me a private conversation. It was all
over, he said to me ; a civil war was about to ravage our unhappy country.
Four men, by their talents, their influence and their energy, may save it.
But, debtors of English merchants, they will be deprived of their liberty,
if they take the smallest step. Could you lend them, instantaneously, funds
to shelter them from English prosecution. The inquiry astounded me
much. It was impossible for me to make a proper answer. You know my

want of power and deficiency in pecuniary means Thus, with

some thousands of dollars, the republic could have decided on civil war or
peace. Thus tJic consciences of tJie pretended patriots of America Jiave already
their price. What will be the old age of this government, if it is thus already
decrepit!"

This extraordinary communication could not but excite the gravest
solicitude in the mind of Washington. Yet he determined to dispatch
business in its order, and called a cabinet meeting to consider as to the rati
fication of the British treaty. The matter had been before discussed, and
the opinion of the cabinet had been unanimously in favor of ratification.
Now Randolph opposed it, claiming that, since the re-establishment of the
unjust and damaging blockade against French bound vessels, consideration
of the Jay treaty should be postponed until the war between England and
France was concluded. Randolph was probably quite sincere in this rec
ommendation, but, taken in consideration with the Fauchet letter, it had a
bad look. Nothing, however, was done until the following day, when, as
Randolph entered the cabinet, Washington, who was in company with his
other ministers, handed him the letter, and requested an explanation.
Randolph read the letter and, requesting time to prepare an answer, with
drew. On the same day he wrote Washington, regretting the withdrawal
of confidence, asserting his own worthiness of it, and denying that he had
ever, personally or through another, made an overture to M. Fauchet, for the
procuring of money, nor had the French minister directly or indirectly paid
him one shilling. He concluded by requesting secrecy until he should be
prepared with his defense. This Washington promised to do all in his
power to preserve, and, at the same time, expressed the earnest hope that
his quondam minister might be able to satisfactorily clear himself from the
suspicion raised by the letter.

In the meantime, the calumny and abuse directed at Washington

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TERM. 255

increased; the ratification of the British commercial treaty could not be
condoned. All memory of years of gratuitous and arduous service in the
cause of America, seemed to be departed from the people, and they were
no longer content with assailing his public acts, but impugned his private
motives and character, as well. " It was averred that he was totally desti
tute of merit, either as a soldier or a statesman. He was charged with
violating the Constitution, in having negotiated a treaty without the pre
vious advice of the Senate, and that he had embraced within that treaty sub
jects belonging exclusively to the Legislature, for which an impeachment
was publicly suggested. Nay, more, it was asserted that he had drawn from
the treasury for his private use more than the salary annexed to his office."
Marshall's statement, of which the above is a portion, conveys but a very
faint idea of the many and various troubles, which combined to gall the
proud and high spirited Washington. The last named charge was of course
false, as it was then proved to be. He never drew a cent of his salary in
person. It was invariably paid to his steward, and by him applied, to the
last dollar, to the expenses of the executive household. In no single year
did the amount thus drawn equal, much less exceed, the amount of the salary.

In the midst of all his trouble and mortification, there came to Wash
ington a ray of brightness, in the form of a resolution of confidence, passed
by the legislature of Maryland, all the more valuable, by reason of its
entire spontaneity. In acknowledgment of this kindness, he wrote : " At
an}' time the expression of such a sentiment would have been considered as
highly honorable and flattering. At the present, when the voice of malig
nancy is so high-toned, and no attempts are left unessayed, to destroy all
confidence in the constituted authorities of this country, it is peculiarly grate
ful to my sensibility. I have long since resolved, for the present time at
least, to let my calumniators proceed without any notice being taken of
their invectives, by myself, or by any others with my participation and
knowledge. Their views, I dare say, are readily perceived by all the
enlightened and well disposed part of the community ; and by the records
of my administration, and not by the voice of faction, I expect to be
acquitted or condemned hereafter."

Mr. Randolph, during the month of December, 1/95, made his defense
or explanation, regarding the intercepted letter. It was strong in being
corroborated by a denial of M. Fauchet, that he had intended to charge the
secretary with attempting to collect funds for his own benefit ; weak in its
attempt to establish a negative, and in its intemperate references to Wash
ington. Colonel Pickering was transferred to the Department of State,
James McHenry was made Secretary of War, and the Attorney-generalship,
vacated by the death of Mr. Bradford, was filled by Charles Lee, of Virginia.
During the autumn and early winter, a treaty had been closed with Algiers,
which promised protection for American vessels from the desperate piracy

256 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

of those seas, and the difficulties with Spain, regarding southern boundaries
and the navigation of the Mississippi, were settled satisfactorily to the
United States It was also during the latter part of this year, that Washing
ton Lafayette, son of the marquis, arrived in America incognito, and was
placed, first at Harvard college, later with his tutor in safe retirement, at
the cost of Washington.

Congress opened in December, 1795. Washington made an address,
rehearsing the principal occurrences of the past year, and congratulating
that body upon the prosperity of the country. The Senate voted a cordial
answer, but the House, controlled by the opposition, was evasive. On the
first day of January, Washington formally received the colors of France,
sent as a gift to the nation, and responded to the speech of M. Adet, with
great feeling.

In February, Great Britain returned, approved, the treaty of commerce,
as amended by the Senate. The contract was now irrevocably completed,
and the President formally proclaimed the treaty the law of the land. The
House of Representatives, piqued at the making of this proclamation before
the matter had been submitted to them, refused, for the time, to make pro
vision for carrying it into effect, and demanded that the President lay before
them the documents and correspondence relating to its negotiation. Washing
ton recognized that this demand was not warranted by the constitution, and
was ultra vires. Hence he determined to establish the principle for all time,
and refused to comply with the request, placing himself fairly on constitu
tional grounds. In the meantime public opinion had changed, meetings
were held in various cities and made declarations favorable to the treaty,
and, in March, 1796, the House made the appropriation necessary for its
effect. During the winter Thomas Pinckney, the excellent minister to
England, was recalled at his own request, and Rufus King was named in his
stead. Congress adjourned in June, and the official year was over. Soon
after the adjournment arose dissatisfaction with the course of Mr. James
Monroe, minister to France. France had been offended at the Jay treaty,
and demanded an explanation ; Monroe had been furnished with ample doc
umentary evidence, and directed to make such explanation, but for some
reason he had neglected to use his papers, and America still stood in a false
light, and was even menaced with war. Hence, Monroe was recalled, and
Charles C. Pinckney, brother of the late minister to St. James, was named
in his stead. Later, M. Adet made a formal protest against the attitude of
the United States in relation to the struggle of France with England, and it
became necessary to the preservation of the good understanding of the
nations, that the Secretary of State of the United States should make a full
and elaborate answer on the part of his government.

No sooner had Congress adjourned, than the third Presidental election
became the subject of discussion. Washington was solicited to again accept

THE SECOND PRESIDENTIAL TERM. 357

the office, but both inclination and a sense of duty to his country urged
him to a contrary conclusion. In fact, so early as May, he had been in
consultation with Hamilton as to the preparation of a farewell address,
announcing his retirement. This famous paper was published in Septem
ber, 1796, and created a profound sensation. Its authorship is a vexed
question, but it was probably founded upon the former address, prepared by
Madison, and was elaborated and recast by Hamilton, in accordance with
suggestions of Washington. Whatever hand guided the pen, it was the
President who inspired the wonderful paper which, once and for all, put an
end to the clamor of those who made the possibility of a monarchy their
pet theme. There is no grander document in history than this simple reim-
pressment of political lessons, which he had so often taught, followed by
the voluntary relinquishment of an office which, in spite of the noisy out
cry of a minority, he might, for the asking, have again held by a unanimous
electoral vote. The address was received throughout the country with the
greatest veneration. It was spread upon the minutes of many state legis
latures, and forever checked the howling of the opposition beagles.

On the 5th day of December, Congress convened, and Washington
made his farewell address. In concluding, he said: "The situation in
which I now stand for the last time, in the midst of the representatives of
the people of the United States, naturally recalls the period when the
administration of the present form of government commenced. I cannot
omit the occasion to congratulate you and my country on the success of the
experiment, nor to repeat my fervent supplications to the Supreme Ruler
of the universe, and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, that his Providential
care may be still extended to the United States; that the virtue and happi
ness of the people may be preserved, and that the government which they
have instituted for the protection of their liberties ma}' be perpetual."

The Senate and House responded to this speech with expressions of
the warmest good will and respect. In the former, there was not a dissent
ing vote; in the latter Mr. Giles, of Virginia, opposed the resolutions of
regret at the retirement of the President, by reason of his disapproval of
the foreign policy of the administration; he said he hoped the President
would be happy in retirement, but he hoped he would retire. Twelve mem
bers agreed with Mr. Giles.

In February, the votes of the Presidential electors were opened, and
John Adams, receiving the highest number, was elected President, while
Thomas Jefferson, next in order, became Vice President. Truly an unequal
yoking together of Federal and Democratic sentiment! On the 30! of March,
Washington addressed a letter to the Secretary of State, making his first
denial of the authenticity of the letters published in England and New York
in 17/7, and attributed to him. These he denounced as forgeries, and
requested that his statement be placed and preserved in the archives of the

258 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

department. On the same day he gave a dinner to members of his cab
inet, the President and Vice President elect, and their wives, foreign minis
ters, etc., and on the following day gladly turned his face from the capital
as a private citizen.

So ended the second term of the first President. He found the country
a chaos ; he left it a cosmos. He found it bankrupt and financially dis
honored ; he left it solvent, owing no man an unliquidated debt, and recog
nized in the money markets of the world. He found it in weakness, with a
system having no coherency, and hence no power; he left it united, power
ful, respected. He was, indeed, the creator of America. A man more
entirely great never wore the robes of office ; a man more entirely contented
never gave up these robes for the plain vestments of private life.

-7 <-

XO-/2

APPOINTED COMMANDER IN CHIEF DEATH AND BURIAL. • 259

CHAPTER XXXI.

WASHINGTON APPOINTED COMMANDER IN CHIEF-HIS DEATH AND BURIAL.

IMMEDIATELY after the inauguration of John Adams, Mr. and Mrs.
Washington set out for Mount Vcrnon, accompanied by Miss Nellie
Custis, and George W. Lafayette, with his tutor. Upon the way they were
everywhere received with the greatest enthusiasm, though every effort was
made to avoid the infliction of formal receptions, escorts, etc. Twenty-two
years of public life, during which he had never made a journey without
meeting with the acclaims of the people, had made such ovations familiar
to Washington, and, while they had not ceased to be gratifying to him for
the good will indicated, they had become somewhat burdensome. Finally
arriving at Mount Vernon, he found his buildings sadly out of repair, and
was met by the necessity of erecting a structure for the safe-keeping of his
private and public papers. His house was at once given into the posses
sion of a small army of painters and carpenters, and, so impatient was he
for the completion of the work, that he scarcely retained a habitable room
for himself. The life at Mount Vernon has been before described ; little
need here be added. A letter, written with the playful exuberance of a
school-boy upon a vacation, tells how happy he is in his freedom. It is
addressed to James McIIenry, Secretary of War, and is as follows : "I
am indebted to you for several unacknowledged letters; but never mind
that; go on as if you had answers. You are at the source of information,
and can find many things to relate, while I have nothing to say that could
either instruct or amuse a Secretary of War, in Philadelphia. I might tell
him that I begin my diurnal course with the sun ; that, if my hirelings are
not in their places at that time, I send them messages of sorrow, for their
indisposition; that, having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state
of things further; that, the more they are probed, the deeper I find the
wounds which my buildings have sustained by an absence and neglect of
eight years ; that, by the time I have accomplished these matters, break-

26O GEORGE WASHINGTON.

fast (a little after seven o'clock, about the time, I presume, you are taking
leave of Mrs. McHenry) is ready ; that, this being over, I mount my horse
and ride 'round my farms, which employs me until it is time to dress for
dinner, at which I rarely miss seeing strange faces, come, as they say, out
of respect for me. Pray, would not the word curiosity answer as well?
And how different this from having a few social friends at a cheerful board !
The usual time of sitting at the table, a walk and tea, brings me within the
dawn of candle-light ; previous to which, if not prevented by company, I
resolve that, as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great
luminary, I will retire to my writing table, and acknowledge the letters I
have received, but, when the lights are brought, I feel tired and disinclined
to engage in this work, conceiving that the next night will do as well. The
next night comes, and with it the same causes for postponement, and so on.
Having given you the history of a day, it will serve for a year, and I am
persuaded you will not require a second edition of it, But it may strike
you in this detail no mention is made of any portion of time allotted to
reading. The remark would be just, for I have not looked into a book
since I came home ; nor shall I be able to do it until I have discharged my
workmen; probably not before the nights grow longer, when possibly, I
may be looking in the Doomsday Book. "

The corning of so many guests to Mount Vernon compelled Washing
ton to request his nephew, Lawrence Lewis, to take up his residence there,
and assume some of the arduous duties of hospitality. Lewis was young,
well-bred, highly educated and attractive. A member of the household, he
was, of course, ever in the field, and he discovered better occupation than
entertaining curious visitors. Pretty Nelly Custis was budding into beautiful
womanhood, and Le\vis soon found a divided service, laying warm siege
to her heart. His suit seemed promising, yet there came a rival in the
person of the aristocratic young Carroll, of Carrollton. This young scion of
the Virginia noblesse, was fresh from the grand tour, polished, accomplished,
confident, — yet the fair Nelly was not for him, and Lewis became her hus
band, the marriage occurring at Mount Vernon in 1798. But one break
occurred in the monotony of this happy life, before the last dread interrup
tion. In 1797 the French administration assumed a very hostile tone toward
America. Pinckney, the American minister, was ordered to leave France,
and notice was given that no one accredited by the United States would be
recognized, until the wrongs which France had suffered should be com
pensated. Pinckney took refuge at The Hague, and gave notice of the
indignity. The action of France seems to have been merely a scheme on
the part of Talleyrand to extort money from the United States. Adams
named three envoys to proceed to France, and consider the grievance upon
which the Directory laid so much stress. These gentlemen found that they
were regarded by Talleyrand merely as sheep to be shorn ; that no questiop

APPOINTED COMMANDER IN CHIEF DEATH AND BURIAL. 26l

of national right or dignity entered into the matter ; it was a purely mer
cenary expedient, and, having received the insult of a proposal that they
should bribe the Directory, returned to America, having accomplished
nothing. War now seemed inevitable, and Adams was extremely anxious
upon the subject. He at once consulted Washington, and, no sooner,
had the discussion of the prospect of war begun, than the latter began to
receive letters from many sources, to the effect that, in the event of hostili
ties, America would look to him, not only for advice, but for leadership. So
imminent seemed the prospect of war, that Congress provided for the raising
of a provisional army of ten thousand men, and Washington was made its
commander in chief. He had before avowed that he would accept the
duty of leading the army, should there actually be a foreign invasion, and
that he would give his counsel and accept rank during the organization of
an army, but would not take command, save in the event of actual hostili
ties. When it was arranged to raise the army, he went to Philadelphia, and
spent five laborious weeks in consulting and arranging as to its organization,
equipment and disposition. The most important step taken was the
appointment of three major-generals, Hamilton, Knox, and the late minister
to France, Pinckney, to command the various divisions of the army. This
provided for, Washington returned to Mount Vcrnon.

The effect of the active war preparations in America was to convince
the French Directory that it had made a wrong estimate of the people with
whom it had to deal, and to decidedly vary its tone in relation to America.
Eventually, Talleyrand wrote the French secretary of legation at the Hague,
that France would doubtless receive any person accredited by the United
States, with the respect due the representative of a formidable power. This
letter was of course shown the American minister at that point, and was
communicated by him to the department of state. Mr. Adams was weak-
enough to act upon this intimation, coining in such indirect fashion, and
appointed a minister to France, who was duly confirmed. So was the war
cloud broken, at the expense of the dignity of the United States.*

The month of December, 1/99, found Washington in good health, and
systematically occupied with the care of his estate. He was particularly
engaged in preparing a written plan for the conduct of his farms, including a
tabular statement of the crops to be raised in various fields, for several years
in advance. This he finished on the loth, and noting the fact in his diary,
adds that the weather was clear and pleasant in the morning, but lowering
in the afternoon. It rained on the nth, and "there was a large circle
abound the moon." The I2th was snowy, the weather, however, being so
w<rm that the snow was very wet. Washington wrapped himself in a cloak
ai :1 went out in the saddle, as was his custom. Before setting out, he wrote

* For a fuller account of this transaction- see the life of John Adams.

262 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

Hamilton, heartily endorsing the plan of the latter for the establishment of
a military academy. During the morning his secretary sought him in the
field, and obtained his frank upon a number of letters. Noticing snow
clinging to the general's hair, he expressed fear lest he might take cold ;
Washington added that his cloak amply protected him, but, with character
istic thoughtfulness, added that the weather was too bad to send a servant
out with the letters. On the morning of the I3th, there was too much snow
upon the ground to permit of his going out, and he complained of a sore
throat. In the evening he was very cheerful, attempting to read aloud from
newspapers received that day, but this his hoarseness rendered very difficult.
Upon retiring, Mr. Lear, his secretary, advised his taking medicine, but he
said, "No, I never take anything for a cold; let it go as it came."

During the night he suffered severely, yet would not consent to Mrs.
Washington's arising to call a servant. In the morning, Mr. Lear came to
the bed side and found the General almost unable to speak, and nearly suf
focated by the swelling of his throat. Dr. Craik, his old friend, was at once
sent for, and one of the farm overseers was called in and bled him.
Between 8 and 9 in the morning, Dr. Craik arrived, and soon after, two
other physicians, but none of their remedies gave relief. Washington was
perfectly conscious and aware of the hopelessness of his case. About 4 in
the afternoon, he called his secretary and gave directions about arranging
his papers, and various other matters of importance. During the evening
he seemed a little easier, and spoke a few times. At 10 o'clock he said to
Mr. Lear, with much difficulty : " 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." Lear bowed, in answer, for emotion prevented his
speaking. The general looked up and asked :

" Do you understand me ?"

"Yes," was the reply.

"Tis well," said he.

These were his last words, for, between 10 and 1 1 o'clock, he passed
peacefully away.

The funeral occurred on the iSth. The remains of the beloved friend;
the brave soldier; the wise counselor; the great and good man, were placed
in the family vault, in the presence of a great concourse of neighbors and
friends ; the honors of war were paid by the militia of Alexandria, while a
schooner in the river fired minute gruns.

So ended this wonderful life, as he would have had it close, with his
friends about him, and for all time his tired body finds rest in the midst of
the scenes which he so loved in life, and from which he was so constantly
and so reluctantly divided.

Leave can hardly be taken of the memory of this great and good man
without reference to one act that found its fulfillment only after his death.

THE WILL — PROVISION FOR SLAVES. 263

"On opening the will which he had handed to Mrs. Washington shortly
before death, " writes Irving, "it was found to have been carefully drawn
up by himself in the preceding July; and by an act in conformity with his
whole career, one of its first provisions directed the emancipation of his
slaves on the decease of his wife. It had long been his earnest wish that
the slaves held by him in his own right should receive their freedom during
his life, but he had found that it would be attended with insuperable diffi
culties on account of their intermixture by marriage with the 'dower
negroes,' whom it was not in his power to manumit under the tenure by
which they were held. With provident benignity he also made provision
in his will for such as were to receive their freedom under this device, but
who, from age, bodily infirmities, or infancy, might be unable to support
themselves, and he expressly forbade, under any pretense whatsoever, the
sale or transportation out of Virginia of any slave of whom he might die
possessed. Though born and educated a slaveholder, this was in con
sonance with feelings, sentiments and principles which he had long enter
tained. In a letter ... in September, 1/86, he writes: 'I never
mean, unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to
possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first wishes to see
some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may be abolished by
law.' And eleven years afterward he writes: ... 'I wish from my
soul that the legislature of this state could see the policy of a gradual
abolition of slavery. It might prevent much future mischief.' '

"The character of Washington," writes Irving further, in summing up
the life-work of the great leader, "may want some of those poetical ele
ments which dazzle and delight the multitude, but it possessed fewer inequal
ities and a rarer union of virtues than perhaps ever fell to the lot of one
man — prudence, firmness, sagacity, moderation, an overruling judgment,
an immovable justice, courage that never faltered, patience that never
wearied, truth that disdained all artifice, magnanimity without alloy. It
seems as if Providence had endowed him in a preeminent degree with all
the qualities requisite to fit him for the high destiny he was called upon to
fulfill — to conduct a momentous revolution which was to form an era in
the history of the world, and to inaugurate a new and untried government,
which, to use his own words, was to lay the foundation ' for the enjoyment
of much purer civil liberty and greater public happiness than have hitherto
been the portion of mankind.' The fame of Washington stands apart
from every other in history, shining with a truer lustre and a more benig
nant glory. With us his memory remains a National property, where all
sympathies throughout our widely-extended and diversified empire meet
in unison. Under all dissensions and amid all the storms of party, his
precepts and example speak to us from the grave with a paternal appeal ;
and his name — by all revered — forms a universal tie of brotherhood — a

264 GEORGE WASHINGTON.

watchword of our union. 'It will be the duty of the historian and the
sage of all nations,' writes an eminent British statesman (Lord Brougham),
'to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man, and untii'
time shall be no more will a test of the progress which our race hr-s
made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the
immortal name of Washington.' "

v. /

JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER I.

ACADEMIC, COLLEGIATE, AND PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION,

THE devotion of New England to liberal education; the universal per
suasion of rich and poor, that its bestowal upon the youth of the col
onies was a duty only to be omitted under the pressure of the sternest pov
erty or other unavoidable obstacle, served well the interest of America in
raising up, for the great emergency of the Revolution, a class of men whose
zeal was tempered by liberal knowledge and culture; whose practical weight
was increased by the breadth of view which arises from the comparison of
existing political conditions, with those of preceding centuries. John
Adams was one, and the greatest of these men. His grandfather had given
the eldest of his twelve children the best obtainable education at Harvard,
that grand old college, which dated from the time of Governor Wentworth.
Desiring to confer as great a blessing upon one of his own sons, the second
Adams, with some difficulty persuaded John, his oldest son, born October
19 (old style), 1735, to matriculate at Harvard, which he did in 1752. Har-
* vard at that time made no affectation of recognizing a dead level of social
equality. Students, upon entering, were placed upon the lists, not in alpha
betical order, nor according to the succession in which they came, but with
strict regard to the rank and position of the families to which they belonged.
This fact gives us a definite means of placing the Adamses in the social scale,
for John Adams stood fourteenth in a class of twenty-four. John Ouincy
Adams says, however, in the unfinished biography of his father, completed
by Mr. Charles Frances Adams, that the fact of his father's securing even
this rank, was clue rather to the position of the maternal branch of the fam
ily, than to that of the Adamses. In ironical reflection upon this artificial

266 JOHN ADAMS.

distinction, was the fact that John Adams, from the beginning to the close of
his course at Harvard, found but two competitors for intellectual leadership,
in a class exceptional for the ability and high scholarship of its members,
among whom were numbered William Browne, subsequently governor of
the island of Bermuda; John Wentworth, who became governor of New
Hampshire ; David Sewall, long judge of the United States district court in
Maine; Tristram Dalton, an early United States Senator for Massachusetts;
Samuel Locke, afterwards president of Harvard college, and Moses Heirh
menway, who became a distinguished divine. Only the two last named
approached the scholarship of Adams, who was but seventeen years of age
at the time of his admission. Remaining in college three years, Adams was
granted his bachelor's degree in 1755, and stood face to face with the prob
lem of making a living. His father had already done for him quite as much
as his means would permit, in supporting him during his preparatory and
collegiate studies. He had gained a liberal education, the friendship of men
greatly his social superiors, and the intellectual equipment necessary to any
professional undertaking. It is not easy, at this day, to realize how narrow
a field was open to him. Public sentiment, and the usage of the day,
practically restricted the choice to the three professions of law, medicine,
and divinity. Mercantile pursuits did not invite a man of liberal education ;
commerce was small, and called for little more knowledge than did shop-
keeping; engineering had not become a profession in America, and manual
labor of any kind could be as well done by any one who could not write his
name.

The life of New England had been, from the outset, such as to give
to divinity a prestige accorded to no other profession. The Puritans had
left the mother country in search of freedom of thought and speech upon
religious subjects. Settled in their new home, religious discussion had con
stituted the predominating intellectual exercise of all the early years of the
colony, and, even so late as the time of Adams, the clergyman was a per
son uniting the personal and social prestige, which had survived the old
establishments, with the respectability belonging to presumed learning, and
the influence of the spiritual mentor. Law was held in small esteem. The
system of courts and practice was simple ; litigations wrere small and unre-
munerative, and, as small business always breeds pettifoggers, the bar was
none too well represented. To these the Puritans, with the sturdy literal
ness which was so characteristic, applied strictly the condemnation: "Woe
unto you, also, lawyers, for ye lade men with burdens grievous to be
borne," and the profession was, if not actually in disrepute, far from
holding its proper place, in relation to others. Medicine was better
regarded, but, as the fathers of New England had proved, upon the rack
and at the stake, their greater esteem of the soul than of the body, it
could not but be that he who administered to the carnal man, should give

ACADEMIC, COLLEGIATE, AND PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION. 26/

way to the doctor of souls. Thus Adams was led almost irresistibly to the
study of theology. This influence did not, as might have been expected,
come most strongly from his home. His father and mother were religious
people, but were freer from the narrowness of the time than were the
majority, and accompanied their recommendations with nothing which
savored of insistence. It was his friends and associates of the college who
most strongly urged the young man to the profession of divinity. For
tunately for him and for the world, he was poor, and the necessity of earn
ing enough for his own support pressed him immediately. To this end he
sentenced himself for a time, as has many an able man, to the purgatory of
the country school, becoming a teacher in the then little village of Worces-
ter. Even at the age of twenty he was a man of such breadth of idea as
to make the dreary monotony, and the mechanical methods, of a country
school, almost insupportable. The petty absolutism of his authority,
which makes small men prigs and tyrants, was to him only mortifying and
ridiculous. A letter, written from Worcester, soon after he assumed
charge of the school, gives, at once, so just an idea of the writer, and so
lively a description of his position, as to bear extended quotation. It is as
follows :

"WORCESTER, 2 September, 1/55.

" DEAR SIR: I promised to write you an account of the situation of my
mind. The natural strength of my faculties is quite insufficient for the task.
Attend, therefore, to the invocation. O thou goddess, muse, or whatever
is thy name, who inspired immortal Milton's pen with a confusion ten thou
sand times confounded, when describing Satan's voyage through chaos,
help me, in the same cragged strains, to sing things unattempted yet in prose
or rhyme. When the nimble hours have tackled Apollo's coursers, and
the gay deity mounts the eastern sky, the gloomy pedagogue arises, frown
ing and lowering like a black cloud, begrimed with uncommon wrath, to
blast a devoted land. When the destined time arrives, he enters upon action,
and, as a haughty monarch ascends his throne, the pedagogue mounts his
awful great chair, and dispenses right and justice throughout his whole
empire. His obsequious subjects execute the imperial mandates with cheer
fulness, and think it their high happiness to be employed in the service of
the emperor. Sometimes paper, sometimes his pen-knife; now birch, now
arithmetic, now a ferule, then A B C, then scolding, then flattering, then
thwacking, calls for the pedagogue's attention. At length, his spirits all
exhausted, down comes pedagogue from his throne, walks out in awful
solemnity through a cringing multitude. In the afternoon he passes through
the same dreadful scenes, smokes his pipe, and goes to bed. Exit muse.

"The situation of the town is quite pleasant, and the inhabitants, so
far as I have had opportunity to know their character, are a sociable, gener
ous and hospitable people ; but the school is, indeed, a school of affliction.

268 JOHN ADAMS.

A large number of little runtlings, just capable of lisping A B C, an
troubling the master. But Dr. Savil tells me for my comfort, ' By cultiva
ing and pruning these tender plants in the garden of Worcester, I sha
make some of them plants of renown and cedars of Lebanon.' Howevt
this be, I am certain that keeping this school any length of time would mak
a base weed and ignoble shrub of me.

"Pray write me the first time you are at leisure. A letter from you, si:
would balance the inquietude of school keeping. Dr. Savil will packet
with his, and convey it to me. When you see friend Quincy, conjure hin
by all the muses, to write me a letter. Tell him that all the conversation
have had since I left Braintree, is dry disputes upon politics, and rur;
obscene wit. That, therefore, a letter written with that elegance of sty'
and delicacy of humor which characterize all his performances, would coir
recommended with the additional charm of rarity, and contribute more tha
anything (except one from you) towards making a happy man of me one
more. To tell you a secret, I do not know how to conclude neatly withoi
asking assistance ; but, as truth has a higher place^ in your esteem tha
any ingenious conceit, I shall please you, as well as myself, most, by sul
scribing myself your affectionate friend,

"JOHN ADAMS."

In the meantime, while, perforce, submissive to the necessity of endu
ing the monotony of the school-room, Adams' mind was actively engage
with the question of his future. At one time he was very near overridin
his own inclination, and embracing the clerical profession. During tl:
winter of 1755-56 he consulted much with his family and friends upon th
subject. Among those who favored his entering the pulpit, was his frien
and classmate, Charles Gushing, who, during February, 1756, wrote him
letter, urging his decision in that direction. The reply of Adams di
closes the course of reasoning by which he so nearly overruled himself, an
is so much clearer statement of the case as to well excuse transferring

to these pages. Adams was, in fact, his own best biographer, and so far i
space will permit, his own words will be quoted in this work. The lettc
referred to follows :

•' MY FRIEND : — I had the pleasure, a few days since, of receiving you
letter of February 4th. I am obliged to you for your advice, and for tli
manly and rational reflections with which you enforced it. I think I hav
deliberately weighed the subject and have almost determined as you advise
Upon the stage of life we have each of us a part,— a laborious and difficii
part — to act ; but we are all capable of acting our parts, however difficult, t
the best advantage. Upon a common theater, indeed, the applause of th
audience is of more importance to the actors than their own approbatior
But, upon the stage of life, while conscience claps, let the world hiss. O
the contrary, if conscience disapproves, the loudest applauses of the worl

ACADEMIC, COLLEGIATE, AND PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION. 269

arc of little value. While our own minds commend, we may calmly despise
all the frowns, all censure, all malignity of man.

" ' Should the whole frame of nature round us break,

In ruin and confusion hurled,
We, unconcerned, might hear the mighty crack,
We stand, unhurt, amidst a falling world.' "

"We have, indeed, the liberty of choosing what character we shall sus-
tain in the great and important drama. But, to choose rightly, we should
consider in what character we can do the most service to our fellow men, as
well as to ourselves. The man who lives only to himself is less worth than

the cattle in his barn Upon the whole I think the

divine (if he reveres his own understanding more than the decrees of coun
cils or the sentiments of fathers; if he resolutely discharges the duties of
his station ; if he spends his time in the improvement of his head in knowl
edge and his heart in virtue, instead of sauntering about the streets) will be
able to do more good to his fellow men, and make better provision for his
own future happiness, in this profession than in another. However, I r.m,
as yet, very contented in the place of a schoolmaster. I shall not, there
fore, very suddenly become a preacher. "

Had Adams, in fact, embraced the ministry, holding the beliefs
expressed in this letter, he must either have been run through the usual
theological mold, coming out deprived of all force, independence, and origi
nality of thought, or have proved hopelessly unorthodox. His opinions
are very boyish; his expression crude; the whole tone of his letter is some
what sophomoric, in the readiness evinced to cut loose from accepted sys
tems and authorities. A man may be a Plato, or a Socrates, or an Aris
totle, and retain — yes, profit by — independence of thought, which rises above
systems while it creates them, but the strict Calvanism of New England had
no traffic with originality. The minister was an officer charged with giving
spiritual instruction according to rules which he could no more vary thau
could the schoolmaster attempt to revise the spelling of the language. Both
theology and spelling have since changed, but the time was not yet ripe
The letter quoted, closes with the following significant postscript: "There-
is a story around town that I am an Arminian.":

In truth, if Adams was not at that time an Arminian, he was fast
becoming weakened in the strict Calvinistic beliefs in which he had been
educated, and which constituted the orthodoxy of the day. The months fol
lowing saw a continued change toward liberality, which, while it never led

* This is the name given to the followers of Arminius, who was a pastor at Amsterdam, and after
wards professor of divinity at Leyden. Arminius had 1 een educated in the beliefs cf Calvin ; but, think
ing the doctrines of that great man, with regard to free will, predestination, and grace, too severe, he began
to express his doubts concerning them in the year 1591 , Mid, upon further inquiry, adopted the ;.ent;-
ments of those whose religious system extends the love of the Supreme Being, and the merits of Jesus
Christ, to all mankind.

27O JOHN ADAMS.

him away from the Christian religion, precluded him from its ministry in
New England. In August, 1/56, this relaxation had gone so far that he
definitely and forever gave up the idea of becoming a clergyman, and
arranged to pursue the study of the law with Mr. Putnam, a leading mem
ber of the bar at Worcester. At the same time he again wrote to his friend
Gushing, to whom he deemed an explanation due:

" WORCESTER, 19 October, 1756.

"My FRIEND: — I look upon myself obliged to give you the reasons
that induced me to resolve upon the study and profession of the law,
because you were so kind as to advise me to a different profession. When
yours came to hand I had thought of preaching, but, the longer I lived and
the more experience I had with that order of men, and of the real design
of that institution, the more objections I found, in my own mind, to that
course of life. I have the pleasure to be acquainted with a young man of
fine genius, cultivated with indefatigable study ; of a generous and noble
disposition, and of the strictest virtue ; a gentleman who deserves the coun
tenance of the greatest men, and the charge of the best parish in the
province. But, with all these accomplishments, he is despised by some,
ridiculed by others, and detested by more, only because he is suspected of
Arminianism. And I have the pain to know more than one, who has a
sleepy, stupid soul, who has spent more of his waking hours in darning his
stockings, smoking his pipe, or playing with his fingers, than in reading,
conversation, or reflection, cried up as promising young men, pious and
orthodox youths, and admirable preachers. As far as I can observe, people
are not disposed to inquire for piety, integrity, good sense, or learning, in a
young preacher, but for stupidity (for so I must call the pretended sanctity
of some absolute dunces) irresistible grace and original sin. I have not, in
one expression, exceeded the limits of truth, though you tliink I am warm.
Could you advise me, then, who, you know, have not the highest opinion
of what is called orthodoxy, to engage in a. profession like this?

The students in the law are very numerous, and some of them
youths of which no country, no age would need to be ashamed, and, if I
can gain the honor of treading in the rear and silently admiring the noble
air and gallant achievements of the foremost rank, I shall think myself
worthy of a louder trumpet than if I had headed the whole army of ortho
dox preachers. . . . I have cast myself wholly upon
fortune. What her ladyship will be pleased to do with me, I can't say.
But, wherever she shall lead me, or whatever she shall do with me, she
cannot abate the sincerity with which, I trust, I shall always be your friend.

JOHN ADAMS."

This letter lay buried among the private papers of Mr. Cushing, until,
in the year 1817, some unknown person obtained a copy of it and caused
its publication in a paper of Nantucket. A son of Mr. Cushing then wrote

ACADEMIC, COLLEGIATE, AND PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION. 2/1

Mr. Adams, expressing his regret and innocence in the matter, and the
former, in his reply, gives undoubted symptoms of mortification. He
speaks of it as "a juvenile production,", and adds, "I was like a boy at a
country fair — in a wilderness, in a strange country, with half a dozen roads
before him, groping in a dark night to find which he ought to take. Had I
been obliged to tell your father the whole truth, I should have mentioned
several other pursuits — farming, merchandise, law, and, above all, war.
.;othing but want of interest and patronage prevented me from enlisting in
ihe army. . . . . It is a problem to my mind, to this day,
whether I should have been a coward or a hero." The letter to Gushing
has just enough of truth in it to excuse a somewhat opinionated young
man of twenty-one years writing it. He had been subjected to a great
amount of gratuitous advice, most of which conflicted with his own convic
tions; he had chosen the least honored profession, in preference to* that
which stood highest ; he knew that his wisdom would be questioned, and
his pride assumed aggression before he was attacked. It was in this spirit
diat he wrote to Gushing, and he naturally paraded his grievances against
the church in such light as would best tend to justify himself. He wrote,
however, about the same time, a letter to his friend Cranch, which is more
just, judicial, and in every particular more satisfactory. The following
quotation will illustrate its spirit: " I expect to be joked upon for writing
to this serious manner, when it shall be known what a resolution I have
tately taken. I have engaged with Mr. Putnam to study law with him two
years, and to keep the school at the same time. It will be hard work, but
'ihe more difficult and dangerous the enterprise, a brighter crown of laurel
tfs bestowed on the conqueror. However. I am not without apprehensions
concerning the success of this resolution, but I am under much fewer
apprehensions than I was when I thought of preaching. The frightful
inquiries of ecclesiastical councils, of diabolical malice, and Calvinistical
^ood nature, never failed to terrify me exceeding!}*, whenever I thought of
preaching. But the point is now determined, and I shall have liberty to
ihink for myself, without molesting others, or being molested myself.
Write me the first good opportunity, and tell me freely, whether you
Approve my conduct."

Two more quotations from the writings of Mr. Adams — now from his
.private diary and autobiography — and we may permit him to continue his
law studies :

"Yesterday I completed a contract with Mr. Putnam, to study law
under his inspection for two years. I ought to begin with a resolution to
oblige him and his lady in a particular manner. I ought to endeavor to
oblige and please even-body, but them in a particular manner. Necessity
drove me to this determination, but my inclination, I think, was to preach.
However, that would not do, but I set out with firm resolutions, I think,

2/2 JOHN ADAMS.

never to commit any meanness or injustice in the practice of law. The study
and practice of law, I am sure, does not dissolve the obligations of morality
or of religion. And, although the reason of my quitting divinity was my
opinion concerning some disputed points, I hope I shall not give reason for
offense to any in that profession by imprudent warmth."

The second quotation is from his autobiography, and gives, in his own
words, a summary of Mr. Adam's life, from the time of his leaving college
until the beginning of his articled clerkship with Mr. Putnam. It repeats
some of the particulars already given, but admirably supplements the brief
account of his intellectual interregnum, to which the author has been limited.

"Between the years 1752, when I entered, and 1755, when I left, col
lege, a controversy was carried on between Mr. Bryant, the minister of our
parish, and some of his people, partly on account of his principles, which
were called Arminian, and partly on account of his conduct, which was too
gay and light, if not immoral. Ecclesiastical councils were called, and sat
at my father's house. Parties and acrimonies arose in the church and con
gregation, and controversies from the press, between Mr. Bryant, Mr. Niles,
Mr. Porter, and Mr. Bass, concerning the fine points. I read all these
pamphlets, and many other writings on the same subjects, and found myself
involved in difficulties beyond my powers of decision. At the same time,
I saw such a spirit of dogmatism and bigotry in clergymen and laity, that,
if I should be a priest, I must take my side and pronounce as positively
as any of them, or never get a parish, or getting it, must soon leave it.
Very strong doubts arose in my mind, whether I was made for a pulpit in
such times, and I began to think of other professions. I perceived very
clearly, as I thought, that the study of theology, and the pursuit of it as a
profession, would involve me in endless altercations, and make my life
miserable, without any prospect of doing any good to my fellow men. The
last two years of my residence at college, produced a club of students (I
never knew the history of the first rise of it) who invited me to become one
of them. Their plan was to spend their evenings together, in reading any
new publications, or any poetry or dramatic compositions that might fall in
their way. I was as often requested to read as any other, especially trage
dies, and it was often whispered to me, and circulated among others, that I
had some faculty for public speaking, and that I should make a better law
yer than divine. This last idea was easily understood and embraced by me.
My inclination was soon fixed upon the law. But my judgment was not so
easily determined. There were many difficulties in the way. Although my
father's general expectation was that I should be a divine, I knew him to
be a man of so thoughtful and considerate a turn of mind, to be possessed
of so much candor and moderation, that it would not be difficult to remove
any objections he might make to my pursuit of physic or law, or any other
reasonable course. My mother, although a pious woman, I knew had no

ACADEMIC, COLLEGIATE, AND PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION. 2/3

partiality for the life of a clergyman. But I had uncles and other relations,
full of the most illiberal prejudices against the law. I had, indeed, a
proper affection and veneration for them, but, as I was under no obligation
of gratitude to them, which could give them any claim of authority to pre
scribe a course of life to me, I thought little of their opinions. Other
obstacles, more serious than these, presented themselves. A lawyer must
have a fee for taking me into his office. I must be boarded and clothed for
several years. I had no money ; and my father, having three sons, had
done as much for me, in the expenses of my education, as his estate and
circumstances could justify, and as my reason or my honor would allow me
to ask. I therefore gave out that I would take a school, and took my
degree at college undetermined whether I should study divinity, law, or
physic.

"In the public exercises at commencement, I was somewhat remarked
as a respondent, and Mr. Maccarty, of Worcester, who was empowered by
the selectmen of that town to procure them a Latin master, for their gram
mar-school, engaged me to undertake it. About three weeks after com
mencement, in 1/55, when I was not yet twenty years of age, a horse was
sent from Worcester and a man to attend me. We made the journey-
about sixty miles — in one clay, and I entered on my office. For about
three weeks, I boarded with one Green, at the expense of the town, and by
the arrangements of the selectmen. Here I found Morgan's Moral Philos
opher, which, I was informed, had circulated with some freedom in that
town, and that the principles of deism had made a considerable progress
among several people in that and other towns of the count}'. Three months
after this, the selectmen procured lodgings for me at Dr. Nahum Willard's.
This physician had a large practice, a good reputation for skill, and a pretty
library. Here were Dr. Chcyne's works, Sydenham and others, and Van
Swieten's Commentaries on Boerhaavc. I read a good deal in these books,
and entertained many thoughts of becoming a physician and surgeon. But
the law attracted my attention more and more; and, attending the court of
justice, where I heard Worthington, Ilawley, Trowbridge. Putnam, and
others, I felt myself irresistibly impelled to make some effort to accomplish
my wishes. I made a visit to Mr. Putnam, and offered myself to him. lie
received me with politeness, and even kindness, took a few days to con
sider of it, and then informed me that Mrs. Putnam had consented that I
should board in his house, that I should pay no more than the town allowed
for my lodgings, and that I should pay him a hundred dollars, when I
should find it convenient. I agreed to his proposals without hesitation, and
immediately took possession of his office. His library, at that time, was
not large; but he had all the most essential law books. Immediately after
I entered with him, however, he sent to England fora handsome addition of
law books, and for Lord Bacon's works. I carried with me to Worcester, Lord

2/4 JOHN ADAMS.

Bolingbroke's Study and Use of History, and his Patriot King. These I
lent him, and he was so well pleased, that he added Bolingbroke's works to
his list, and gave me an opportunity of reading the posthumous works of
that writer in five volumes. Mr. Burke once asked who ever read them
through. I can answer that I read them through before the year 1758, and
that I have read them through at least twice since that time. But, I confess,
without much good or harm. His ideas of the English constitution are
correct, and his political writings are worth something ; but, in a great part
of them, there is more fiction than truth. His religion is a pompous folly;
and his abuse of the Christian religion is as superficial as it is impious.
His style is original and inimitable ; it resembles more the oratory of the
ancients, than any writings or speeches I ever read in English.

EARLY LAW PRACTICE SEEDS OF REBELLION. 2/5

CHAPTER II.

1ARLY LAW PRACTICE SEEDS OF REBELLION.

MR. ADAMS continued his office as teacher of the Worcester school,
and his studies under Mr. Putnam, until the month of October, 1758.
Then, bein^ eivitled to admission to practice, he desired to present his
application for a license, and set out for Boston with that intent. Arrived
in that city he discovered that he had neglected to obtain his certificate from
Mr. Putnam. The horseback journey of sixty miles, to \Yorcester, with
the return, was no light matter to undertake for the reparation of this mis
take, and desiring, if possible, to avoid it, Mr. Adams betook himself to Mr.
Gridley, then attorney-general of the province, and, as a lawyer and scholar,
second to none of his time. After a few moments' conversation, Mr. Gridley
seems to have been full}' satisfied as to the attainments of the yor.ng aspirant,
for he took the unusual responsibility of giving him a personal recommen
dation to the court, which procured him instant admission to practice. This
kind and flattering act on the part of Mr. Gridlcy was only the first of a
long succession of demonstrations of affection and confidence. He gave
Mr. Adams, at that time and later, much invaluable advice as to his profes
sional and personal future, and later supplemented it by giving more sub
stantial aid, throwing business into the hands of his younger brother at the
bar, when such help was sadly needed. So was Adams launched upon the
uncertain waters of his chosen profession.

Mr. Adams selected his native village, Braintrce, as the place for prac
ticing his profession, settling there immediately after his admission to the
bar. He resided with his father in the homestead until May 25, 1761,
when the latter died. After this event, and until his own marriage, in 1764,
he continued with his mother. There is little of incident in those earl}' days
of his legal life. Braintree was far from a promising place of settlement;
small as it was, its population does not convey to us at this day any just idea
Of the difficulty of there making even a bare living by the law, during the last

2/6 JOHN ADAMS.

century. It has been said that the people of Massachusetts were but ill dis
posed toward lawyers. The most controversial people in America, they were
perhaps the least litigious ; they would quarrel sooner over a dogma than
a question of property, and more readily forgive an injury to themselves than
the heresy of a neighbor. They went little to law, and, when arbitration
would not suffice, and they were driven or dragged into court, were apt to
think themselves fully equal to the trial of their own causes. So Braintree
was to a lawyer, much what a church is to a mouse, — a middle ground
between living and starvation. Yet the time spent by Mr. Adams in the
little village was far from lost. If there was little to do and less to make, it
was also true that little was needed ; that the village was primitive ; that
neither display nor more than the simplest hospitality was called for.
Then, too, such practice as there was, offered, as elsewhere in a country
town, the best of discipline for a young lawyer. The attention to minute
points of law and practice, the careful devotion to detail in preparation, the
guarding against the arts of pettifogging opponents, all these laid the foun
dation of valuable habits, little likely to be acquired in a larger field, where
small cases are rather despised. Then, too, when a trial was held, it was an
event of universal interest in the contracted field. It was protracted uncon
scionably ; the evidence was sifted with industry, if not with the greatest
skill ; arguments were as long and labored in a case involving the value of a
sheep, as they would be in the heaviest action in a community where litiga
tion was more common and important. Then, too, there was the inspira
tion of an audience, the praise, the condemnation, the applause of neigh
bors and friends. The bar was usually present as a unit, and gave the force
of its criticism to place counsel upon their mettle, and, after the cause was
tried and determined, it was the talk of the village, until another sheep was
killed. So, surrounded by these influences, which, continuing for many
years, tend to make the lifelong country lawyer narrow and mechanical,
Adams, during his few years at Braintree, learned only to be painstaking
and exact, doing everything that he undertook, great or small, to the best
of his ability. He was wise enough, too, to regard his admission to the
bar as a form, neither the necessary end of preparation, of study and develop
ment, nor certainly the gate to wealth and reputation. While he awaited
clients, he made himself, day by day, more worthy of their confidence and
trust. Again it is best to turn to the words of his journal to obtain a view
of his plans and resolves. It reads almost like a treatise on professional
ethics, though written by a man then but twenty-five years of age.

"Labor to get distinct ideas of law, right, wrong, justice, equity; search
for them in your own mind, in Roman, Grecian, French, English treatises,
of natural, civil, common, statute law. Aim at an exact knowledge of the
nature, end, and means of government. Compare the different forms of it
with each other, and each of them with their effects on public and private

EARLY LAW PRACTICE SEEDS OF REBELLION. 2/7

happiness. Study Seneca, Cicero, and all other good moral writers ; study
Montesquieu, Bolingbroke, Vinnius, etc., and all other good civil writers.

"1760. I have read a multitude of law books; mastered but few.
Wood, Coke, two volumes Lillie's abridgement, two volumes Salkeld's
reports, Swinburne, Hawkins' Pleas of the Crown, Fortescue; Fitzgibbon,
ten volumes in folio, I read at Worcester quite through, besides octavos
and lesser volumes, and many others, of all sizes, that I consulted occasion
ally, without reading in course, as dictionaries, reports, entries, and abridge
ments. I cannot give so good an account of the improvement of my last
two years spent in Braintree. However, I have read no small number of
volumes upon law the last two years. Justinian's Institutes I have read
through in Latin, with Vinnius perpetual notes; Van Muyden's Tractatio
Institiitiomim Justianiani, I read through and translated mostly into English
from the same language."

Then follows a long list of other works read, many of them very
abstruse and far out of the ordinary course of legal study. The journal is
thus continued:

"I must form a serious resolution of beginning and continuing quite
through the plans of my Lords Hale and Reeve. Wood's Institutes of the
Common Law I never read but once, and my Lord Coke's Commentaries
on Littleton I have never read but once. These two authors I must get and
read over and over again. And I will get them, too, and break through, as
Mr. Gridley expresses it, all obstructions. Besides, I am but a novice in
natural and civil law. There are multitudes of excellent authors on natural
law, that I have never read ; indeed, I never read any part of the best
authors, Puffendorf and Grotius. In civil law there are Hoppius and
Vinnius, commentators on Justinian, Domat, etc., besides institutes of
canon and feudal law that I have never read." This attributing to himself, as
a fault, ignorance of the text of authors whom the majority of lawyers of
to-day know only by name or not at all, is sufficient index of the standard of
scholarship which Adams had net for himself. His habit of self-scrutiny
and criticism was not confined to matters of attainment. He was no less
censorious in regard to morals and manners, as the following self-arraign
ment shows: " Pretensions to wisdom and virtue superior to all the world,
will not be supported by words only. If I tell a man that I am wiser and
better than he, or any other man, he will cither despise or hate or pity me,
perhaps all three. 1 have not conversed enough with the world to converse
rightly. I talk to Paine about Greek ; that makes him laugh. I talk to
Sam Quincy about resolution, and being a great man, and study, and improv
ing time ; which makes him laugh. I talk to Ned about the folly of affecting
to be a heretic ; which makes him mad. I talk to Hannah and Esther about
the folly of love; about despising it; about being above it ; pretend to be
insensible of tender passions ; which makes them laugh. I talk to Mr.

278 JOHN ADAMS.

Wibird, about the decline of learning; tell him I know no young fellow who
promises to make a figure; cast sneers on Doctor Morse for not knowing
xhe value of old Greek and Roman authors; ask when will a genius rise
that will not shave his beard, or let it grow rather, and sink himself in a cell
in order to make a figure. I talk to Parson Smith about despising gay dress,
grand buildings and estates, fame, etc., and being contented with what will
satisfy the real wants of nature. All this is affectation and ostentation. It
is affectation of learning and virtue and wisdom, which I have not; and it is
a weak fondness to show all that I have, and to be thought to have more
than I have. Besides this, I have insensibly fallen into a habit of affecting
wit and humor, of shrugging my shoulders and moving, distorting the
muscles of my face. My motions are stiff, uneasy, and ungraceful, and
my attention is unsteady and irregular. These are reflections on myself
that I make. They are faults, defects, fopperies, and follies, and disadvan
tages. Can I mend these faults and supply these defects?"

What an invaluable knowledge of the methods of self-education, char
acter-building, and discipline, do these quotations give. After reading
them, considering that they were written in a private journal, where, if
anywhere, we may look for sincerity, it is no longer a matter of surprise
that, from so grave and conscientious a youth, Adams attained a maturity
so grand and noble.

While a student at Worcester, Mr. Adams made the acquaintance of
David Sewall, a man several years his senior, but who was admitted to the
practice of the law but a short time before himself. Sewall possessed brilliant
ability, and was, in mind and character, fitted to be a congenial friend of the
younger man. Such he became, and nothing broke the perfect harmony
and confidence of the two, until arose the issues between Great Britain and
her colonies, which led to the War of Independence; then Adams entered,
body and soul, into the patriot cause, while Sewall, with no less vigor and
honesty, embraced that of the king. After the peace, Sewall went to Eng
land, where, after remaining for some time, he secured an appointment as
colonial judge in Nova Scotia, and, buried in that then wild and remote
province, ended a disappointed and embittered life. During the residence
of Adams at Braintrce, the two maintained a correspondence which was of
great value to both. Their letters contained no commonplaces or gossip,
and were largely devoted to abstract discussions of philosophy, morals, and
law. Sprinkled through their pages were actual or supposititious problems
in law, propounded by one for the solution or advice of the other, and
usually answered with care, if not elaborately or profoundly. Such a cor
respondence was useful to both, and, did it exist in its entirety, would to-day
be a most important assistance to the biographer. Those letters which are
still extant cast much light upon the genesis of Adams' ideas, principles,
and methods, and, did space permit, the author would gladly transfer them

EARLY LAW PRACTICE — SEEDS OF REBELLION, 2/9

bodily to his work. One quotation must, however, be sufficient ; this from
a letter of Adams to Sewall, dated February, 1760:

"There is but little pleasure, which reason can approve, to be received
from the noisy applause and servile homage that is paid to any officer, from
the lictor to the dictator, or from the sexton of a parish to the sovereign of
a kingdom. And reason will despise, equally, a blind, undistinguishing
adoration of what the world calls fame. She is neither a goddess to be
loved, nor a demon to be feared, but an unsubstantial phantom, existing
only in the imagination. But, with all this contempt, give me leave to
reserve (for I am sure that reason will warrant) a strong affection for the
honest approbation of the wise and good, both in the present and all futuio
generations. Mistake not this for an expectation of the life to come, in the
poet's creed. Far otherwise. I expect to be totally forgotten wivhin sev
enty years of the present hour, unless the insertion of my name i.i the col
lege catalogue should luckily preserve it longer. When heaven designs an
extraordinary character, one that shall distinguish his path through the
world by any great effects, it never fails to furnish the proper means and
opportunities; but the common herd of mankind, who are to be born, and
eat, and sleep, and die, and be forgotten, is thrown into the world, as it
were at random, without any visible preparation of accommodations. Vet,
though I have very few hopes, I am not ashamed to own that a prospect of
immortality, in the memories of all the worthy, to the end of time, would
be a high gratification of my wishes."

In the spring of 1/65, Mr. .Adams obtained his first important retainer,
being engaged by the Plymouth company, to try a case in its interest, at
Pownalborough, on the Kennebec river, then almost at the limit of civiliza
tion. He had the good fortune to win his cause, and, from that time,
became general counsel of the company, a lucrative post, which not only
gave him a comfortable income, but brought him into relation with the legal
public, earned him notice, and, indirectly, a largely increased practice.

The interval between Mr. .Adams' settlement in Braintrec, and his
entry into public life, must be very briefly discussed. His practice increased,
but very slowly, and he had time, and to spare, for the reading and study
which he had planned. On the 25th of May, 1/61, his father died, leaving
him the head of the house, with the care of his mother and two younger
brothers. His townsmen honored him with an election to the office of sur
veyor of highways, to the not difficult duties of which position he devoted
himself with the greatest assiduity. On the 25th of October, 1764, he
married Abigail Smith, daughter of the Rev. William Smith, pastor ot
the Congregational church, at Weymouth. Mrs. Adams was descended, on
the mother's side, from the Quincys, a family which had stood out in relief
from the earliest days of the colony, holding high places in the church, in
politics, literature, and society. She was, in common with all the women

28O JOHN ADAMS.

of her family, an exception to the rule which, at that day, denied to so
many of her sex the privileges of liberal education. By nature, kind and
amiable ; by breeding, refined ; by association and persuasion, religious ;
possessed of a mind far above the average, which had been carefully culti
vated and stored, she seemed then, and time more than approved her claim,
the very woman to be to Adams at once all that a wife, and all that a
sympathizing and encouraging companion could be. The two were always
thoroughly en rapport, and in no writings of Adams', not even in his jour
nal, do we see so much of the man, or learn so much of his real opinions of
the measures which grew under his eye, as in his familiar letters to his wife.
In 1761, came the first hint of trouble between king and colonies, and
that, too, in the province of Massachusetts and directly within the field of
Adams' vision, and, from that time, for twenty-one years, he ranged him
self on the side of his country, sounding every note in the scale, from pro
testation to rebellion. The history of this germination of freedom is else-
where related in these pages. The exclusive trade of the colonies was
claimed by the king, but the temptation offered by a clandestine traffic with
Spain, Holland, and the alien colonies of the West Indies, proving too
strong, an extensive smuggling trade had grown up, most of which came to
Boston. In the year named, the King's officers, who were instructed to
break up this inhibited traffic, applied to the courts of Massachusetts for
writs of assistance, to protect them in searching houses and shops for contra
band goods. Massachusetts was at once up in arms. It has always been
little better than impossible to convince even very respectable people, that
smuggling, — a mere malum prohibitnm, is a moral wrong. The people of
Massachusetts were no exceptions to this rule ; their furtive trade was a
source of great profit to them, and they had only assented to England's
claim of a commercial eminent domain, with a mental reservation. Hence,
when these radical measures were proposed, they took immediate steps to
test at law the right of the king. The matter was argued before the
superior court of the province, on behalf of the colony, by James Otis, a
leader of the bar. Adams had lately been admitted to practice in that
court, and listened to Otis' speech, which was the first formulation of the
American protest against royal prerogative, with the closest attention.
With the foresight which was one of his distinguishing characteristics, he
looked far beyond the immediate issue, following very correctly to its more
weighty results, the contest thus opened. Grasping the principle, not its
accidental manifestation, he said that the decision of the contested point
involved far more than the right of entering a domicile, or breaking up a
smuggling trade, — nothing less, in fact, than the whole system of restric
tion and control, by which Great Britain insured to herself the profit arising
from her colonies. He did not foresee independence ; had he done so, it
would have been to lament it as a disastrous issue.

THE STAMP ACT AND ITS EFFECT.

CHAPTER III.

THE STAMP ACT AND ITS EFFECT THE BRAINTREE RESOLUTIONS.

IF we except the holding of the office of surveyor of highways, to which
reference has been made, we may date Mr. Adams' entry into poli
tics from the passage of the stamp act, news of which reached the colonies
late in 1764. Massachusetts was first in the field in opposition to the out
rage, and the little community at Braintree was among the first to take
action in that colony. Adams initiated the movement, by drawing and circu
lating for signature, a petition to the selectmen of the town, praying them
to call a meeting of the people, to take action in the premises, and to
instruct their representative in the court in relation to the stamps. Before
meeting, he prepared a draft of instructions, according to his own idea of
propriety, and, carrying them with him, presented them for action. They
were adopted without a dissenting voice. Upon being published, they met
the very general approval of the people, and were adopted in part by the
citizens of Boston, and wholly by no less than forty towns. This, of
course, served to add to his public reputation, and, from that day, his inter
vals of life, uninterrupted by public service were neither many nor of long
duration. Still, there remained for some years a divided allegiance between
the law, which he could not afford entirely to give over, and the cause which
had so warmly enlisted his sympathy and devotion.

There was, in Boston, as elsewhere, a great diversity of opinion as to
the proper way of meeting the stamp act, sounding the whole popular
gamut, from the howling of an irresponsible and riotous mob, to the sub
missive whining of the few who deprecated even protest. Boston was, for
a time, reduced to a condition of terrorism. The stamp act passed in
March, and was to go into effect November 1st. On the 29th of May, the
General Court of Massachusetts met in annual session, at Boston. Sir
Francis Bernard was king's governor at the time, and, in his usual set

o t*>

speech to the assembly, though he knew how thoroughly absorbed were

282 JOHN ADAMS.

the people in discussing and considering the act, he wisely evaded a t.ircct
mention of it. John Quincy Adams has thus summarized the concluding
portion of the address, which clearly showrs a desire to avoid any issue with
legislators or people: "He concluded his speech by an apologetic and
monitorial paragraph, informing them that the general settlement of the
American provinces, long before proposed, would now probably be prose
cuted to its utmost completion. That it must necessarily produce some
regulations, which, for their novelty ONLY, would appear disagreeable. But
he was convinced, and doubted not but experience would confirm it, that
they would operate, as they wrere designed, for the benefit and advantage
of the colonies. In the meantime, a respectable submission to the decrees
of parliament was their interest, as well as their duty. That, in an empire
extended and diversified as that of Great Britain, there must be a supreme
legislature, to which all other power must be subordinate. But," he adds,
" it is our happiness that our supreme legislature, the parliament of Great
Britain, is the sanctuary of liberty and justice ; and that the prince who
presides over it, realizes the idea of a patriot king. Surely, then, we should
submit our opinions to the determination of so august a body, and acquiesce
in a perfect confidence that the rights of the members of the British empire,
will ever be safe in the hands of the conservators of the liberties of the
whole. "

If the honorable governor expected by this flimsy expedient to
smooth the way for the enforcement of the stamp act, he was doomed to
disappointment. Not the slightest response was made to the speech, and
such silence was the more ominous from the fact that an answering address
had customarily been voted. In the afternoon of the same day, however,
the assembly appointed committees to consider and report upon certain
specified clauses of the speech, which were considered to demand attention,
as directly affecting the commercial interests of the province. On the 5th
of June, the speaker appointed a committee to report upon the last para
graph of the governor's message. For various reasons, nothing was heard
from any of these committees. On the following day, however, the
house, " taking into consideration the many difficulties to which the colonies
were and must be reduced, by the operation of some late acts of parlia
ment for levying duties and taxes on the colonies," appointed a committee
consisting of the speaker and eight other members, including James Otis,
to consider and report as to the proper course of action in the premises.
This committee had its report already prepared. It was from the pen of
Mr. Otis, and recommended that the assembly should communicate with
the representative body of each colony, urging a meeting of persons
delegated by the various assemblies and houses of burgesses, to consult
concerning the condition of the colonies, and the best means of meeting
the serious difficulties arising from the attempt of Great Britain to levy

THE STAMP ACT AND ITS EFFECT. 28$

internal taxes ; also to prepare a general and humble address to the king
and parliament, imploring relief. It was further recommended that the
meeting be held in New York, on the first Tuesday of the ensuing October,
and that a committee of three members of the house be appointed to repre
sent Massachusetts. The report was accepted without debate or dissent,
and the committee appointed, Otis being made one of its members. The
resolutions were drawn by Mr. Otis, and, though there has been some dispo
sition to dispute the priority of Massachusetts in the movement, the best
authorities are united in conceding that to that colony at large, and to Mr.
Otis, in particular, is clue the credit of originating the scheme of confedera
tion which culminated in the Continental Congress, and bore fruit under the
constitution of 1/87. To Otis was due the silence of the earlier appointed
committee, which, had it carried out the purposes of its appointment, would
but have involved the colony in an idle discussion with a subordinate and
irresponsible officer of the crown. He held that the time for discussion was
past, and that only action, and that united, well directed and wise, could
save, at once, the rights and the dignity of the American colonies.

\Yith the passage of the Otis resolutions, ended for the time, in Massa
chusetts, all legislative concern with the stamp act. The popular sentiment
was strongly aroused, but a populace is in one respect like a child, — it is
slow to recognize a principle, but sei/.es at once the material fact which
results. So the people of Hoston, who had been content with public and
respectful protests against an abstract invasion of their rights, so soon
as came the first symptoms of the enforcement of the stamp act, were
lashed into an ungoverned and ungovernable fury. Andrew Oliver had
solicited the appointment of distributor of the stamps, and, feeling assured
that he should receive it, had caused to be erected a small building for
use as a stamp office. Early on the morning of August I4th, an effigy
of Oliver was discovered hanging by the neck to a branch of a tree on
Main street. No one admitted any knowledge of the authors of the
grim suggestion, and Hutchinson, chief justice of the province, and a relative
of Oliver, gave orders to the sheriff to remove the object, and, should any
opposition be made, report the names of the offenders. The sheriff, with
rare discretion, committed the execution of this order to his deputies, and
they, not caring to similarly ornament the remaining boughs of the tree,
returned and reported the opposition too formidable to be trifled with. So
said the sheriff to the chief-justice, and the latter at once convened the
council. This body was either not entirely devoid of sympathy with the
rabble, or possessed a degree of caution equal to that of the original mes
sengers, for, neither at this session nor at one called later in the day, were
any steps taken to secure the removal of the oscillating duplicate of the
unhappy Oliver. All day a crowd of defiant citizens remained assembled
about the tree. At nightfall they cut the effigy down, bore it solemnly

284 JOHN ADAMS.

through the town, and, passing through the lower corridor of the town-house,
while the lieutenant-governor sat overhead, in solemn consultation with his
counselors, moved on to Oliver's stamp office, which they leveled to the
ground. They then proceeded to Fort hill, kindled a fire, and burned the
effigy. Yet they were not satisfied. Going to Oliver's house, which was
not far off, they frightened its owner and family into a precipitate flight,
then broke down the fence which inclosed it, shattered the windows, and
even damaged furniture and pictures within. Hutchinson had sufficient
courage to attempt to prevent this outrage, but was glad to retire with a
sound body. Mr. Oliver, on the following day, transmitted to England his
resignation of the office of stamp distributor, and under the tree where his
effigy had been suspended gave a most humble and solemn assurance that
he would not resume it. Having thus disposed of Oliver, the mob turned
their attention to Hutchinson, who was not only chief-justice but lieutenant-
governor. On the evening of the day of Oliver's recantation, they went to
Hutchinson 's house, and demanded that he show himself and avow that
he had not been in favor of the stamp act. The lieutenant of the crown
had, however, put several good miles between himself arid his over-zeal
ous townsmen, having retired to his country place at Milton. There he
remained for twelve days, at the end of which time, deeming return safe,
he again occupied his home in Boston. That very night the house was
destroyed by the rioters, giving Hutchinson and his family barely time to
escape with their lives. Other houses, among which were those of the
register of the admiralty and the collector of the customs, were seriously
damaged.

On the following day, a town meeting was held, and declared, Dy a
unanimous vote, its unqualified condemnation of the high-handed proceed
ings of the mob. There was something bordering on the humorous in this
vote, as the meeting which passed it probably embraced a very large pro
portion of the men who had done the mischief.

Adams was not in Boston during this excitement, having been called
to Martha's Vineyard on legal business, but he \vas shocked and mortified
at the course taken by the people. None of them surpassed him in con
demning the stamp act, and in determination to secure its repeal, yet he
possessed the first requisite of popular leadership, in his ability to remain
cool in the face of provocation ; to weigh the justice and advisability of
actions, to withstand the clamor of the popular voice, to look beyond imme
diate to remote results, and to calmly determine his course with a view to
its furthest and least obvious effects. He was not free from anxiety lest
there might be some connection between his Braintree resolutions and the
unlawful acts of the people; he was solicitous for the cause; anxious to
avoid its injury, either by weak inaction or ill-judged zeal; yet, while he con
demned the manifestation of the latter, he could not but recognize it as

THE BRAIXTREE RESOLUTIONS. 28$

springing from a new born determination of the people, in itself of the great
est value.

There was, in fact, never more than a shadow of royal authority in
Boston, from the day of the appointment of an agent to distribute the
obnoxious stamps. Several of the participants in the riots were arrested
and placed in jail, but the people compelled the surrender of the keys,
opened the doors, and set them at liberty. On the 2Oth of September,
1765, arrived a vessel, bearing the stamps for the New England colonies.
Oliver having resigned, there was no one in Boston possessing either author
ity or temerity to land and unpack them. On the 25th the general court
was convened, with a speech from his excellency, which might stand as a
monument to bad judgment. Professing to be conciliatory, it was, in fact,
menacing, and menacing, too, in a querulous, rather than a dignified, tone.
He relied for the removal of the popular opposition, and that of the court,
principally upon his statement that a refusal to use the stamps must react
severely upon the province, by compelling the closing of the custom-house,
courts of law, and the general interruption of every form of business involv
ing the passage of contracts and indentures. He closed by asking: "In
short, can this province bear a cessation of law and justice, and of trade and
navigation, at a time when the business of the vear is to be wound up, and

o »

the severe season is hastily approaching? These," he added, "are serious
and alarming questions, which demand a cool and dispassionate considera
tion."

The governor had sadly mistaken the spirit of the men with whom he
had to deal. They were not to be conciliated by the chaff of his promises,
or to be moved by the sophistry of his flimsy arguments. Even the
suggestion that, in the event of their being convinced of the propriety of
submitting to the enforcement of the stamp act, a recess should be granted,
to permit them to go to their homes, and bring their constituents to the
same happy state of humility, met with more ridicule than respect. The
formal speech was supplemented by a message announcing the arrival of
the stamps, and asking advice what should be done with them. To tin's,
a prompt answer was returned by both houses, that, as the stamps had
been brought into the colony without their consent, they did not feel called
upon to give any aid or assistance in the matter.

In the early stages of the discussion, James Otis had published a pam
phlet, in which he explicitly admitted the right of parliament to pass laws
binding upon the colonies, and made an argument specifically against the
stamp act, upon special grounds. The colonial assembly had as explicitly
recognized the same right. Very many of the best thinkers of the colonies
disagreed with this view of the case, and held that the opposition should be
so directed as to strike, not the stamp act alone, but the fundamental error
upon which it was based, so that success might n t mean merely a tempo-

286 JOHN ADAMS.

rary relief, with the possibility of meeting in the future enactments quite as
obnoxious and more carefully considered. Among those who so thought
were Samuel Adams, newly elected a member of the assembly, and John
Adams, whose authorship of the Braintree resolutions had given his
opinions a certain weight. During the session of the assembly, to which
reference has been made, Otis was absent, attending the convention at New
York. Samuel Adams took the occasion to draw, and introduce in the
assembly, a preamble and fourteen resolutions, which completely changed
the aspect of the struggle. He went to the root of the matter ; denied
the right of parliament to tax the colonies ; asserted that taxation and rep
resentation are correlative, and that representation of the colonies in parlia
ment was necessarily impossible. The last resolution contained a declara
tion of respect and loyalty to the king, which, like the wings of a griffin,
was conventional if not useful.

These resolutions were adopted on the 3Oth of October, and on
November 1st the stamp act ostensibly went into force. An attempt was
made to secure the adoption of a resolution in the house, that it was neces
sary to proceed with the business of the courts and the custom house with
out stamps ; this, Hutchinson succeeded in defeating, and, finding that the
assembly became daily more bold and defiant, he prorogued it on the 8th
of November until the I5th of January. The opinions of Mr. Adams
regarding the all-absorbing question of the time cannot be better conveyed
than by quotation from his diary. On the i8th of December, he wrote:

' ' That enormous engine, fabricated by the British parliament, for bat
tering down all the rights and liberties of America, I mean the stamp act,
has raised and spread through the whole continent a spirit that will be
recorded to our honor with all future generations. In every colony, from
Georgia to New Hampshire inclusively, the stamp distributors and inspec
tors have been compelled, by the unconquerable rage of the people, to
renounce their offices. Such and so universal has been the resentment of
the people, that every man who has dared to speak in favor of the stamps,
or to soften the detestation in which they are held, how great soever his abili
ties and virtues had been esteemed before, or whatever his fortune, connec
tions, or influence had been, has been seen to sink into universal contempt
and ignominy. The people, even to the lowest ranks, have become more
attentive to their liberties, more inquisitive about them, and more deter
mined to defend them, than they were ever before known, or had occasion
to be; innumerable have been the monuments of wit, humor, sense, learn
ing, spirit, patriotism, and heroism, erected in the several colonies and prov
inces, in the course of this year. Our presses have groaned, our pulpits
have labored, our legislatures have resolved, our towns have voted; the
crown officers have everywhere trembled, and all their little tools and crea
tures been afraid to speak and ashamed to be seen.

THE BRAINTREE RESOLUTIONS. 287

"This spirit, however, has not yet been sufficient to banish from persons
in authority that timidity which they have discovered from the beginning
The executive courts have not yet dared to adjudge the stamp act void, nor
to proceed with business as usual, though it would seem that necessity alone
should be sufficient to justify business at present, though the act should be
allowed to be obligatory. The stamps are in the castle. Mr. Oliver has no
commission. The governor has no authority to distribute, or even unpack
the bales ; the act has never been proclaimed, nor read in the province ; -yet
the probate office is shut, the custom house is shut, the courts of justice
are shut, and all business seems at a stand. Yesterday and the day before,
the two last days of service for January term, only one man asked me for a
writ, and he was soon determined to waive his request. I have not drawn a
writ since the first of November. How long we are to remain in this condi
tion, this passive obedience to the stamp act, is not certain, but such a
pause cannot be lasting. Debtors grow insolent, creditors grow angry, and
it is to be expected that the public offices will very soon be forced open,
unless such favorable accounts should be received from England as to draw
away the fears of the great, or unless a greater dread of the multitude
should drive away fear of censure from Great Britain.

" It is my opinion that by this inactivity we discover cowardice, and
too much respect to the act. This rest appears to be, by implication at least,
an acknowledgment of the authority of parliament to tax us. If this
authority is once acknowledged and established, the ruin of America will
become inevitable. This long interval of indolence and idleness will make
a large chasm in my affairs, if it should not reduce me to distress, and inca
pacitate me to answer the demands upon me. But I must endeavor in some
degree to compensate the disadvantage, by posting my books, reducing my
accounts into better order, and diminishing my expenses, — but, above all,
by improving the leisure of this winter in a diligent application to my studies.
The bar seems to me to behave like a flock of shot pigeons;
the\' seem to be stopped; the net seems to be thrown over them, and they
have scarcely courage left to flounce, and to flutter. So sudden an interrup
tion in my career is very unfortunate for me. I was just getting into my
gears; just getting under sail and an embargo is laid upon my ship. Thirty
years of my life are passed in preparation for business ; I have had poverty
to struggle with ; envy, jealous)' and malice of enemies to encounter; no
friends, or but few, to assist me; so that I have passed in dark obscurity,
till of late, and had but just become known, and gained a small degree of
reputation, when this execrable project was set on foot, to my ruin, as well
as that of America in ijeneral, and of Great Britain."

288 JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER IV.

ANTI-STAMP ARGUMENTS AND MEASURES-THE "BOSTON MASSACRE."

ON the very day when was made the long journal entry, quoted at the
close of the last chapter, a town meeting was held in Boston, at
which it was determined that a memorial be presented to the governor and
council, protesting against the closing of the courts as a denial of justice,
and demanding that they be at once re-opened. Mr. Samuel Adams drew
the memorial ; to it was added a request that the town of Boston might be
heard by counsel upon the matter. The memorial was forthwith forwarded,
and the request for a hearing at once granted. On the day following John
Adams received., at his home at Braintree, the following letter:

" SIR: I am directed, by the town, to notify you that they have this
day voted unanimously that Jeremiah Gridley, James Otis, and John Adams,
esquires, be applied to as counsel to appear before his excellency the gov
ernor, in council, in support of their memorial, praying that the courts of
law in this province may be opened. A copy of said memorial will be
handed you, upon your coming to town.

"I am, sir, your most obedient, humble servant,

WILLIAM COOPER,

"John Adams, Esq. Town Clerk.

''Boston, December 18, 1765."

The selection of so young a man, and one not a resident of the town,
was an honor of which Mr. Adams might well feel proud ; proud he was,
and very much surprised, but he did not give himself very much time for
self-gratulation or conjecture, going, at once, as always, to the root of the
matter, and questioning of himself how he might best perform this unex
pected duty. His journal of the iQth says, after quoting the letter referred
to: 'The reason which induced Boston to choose me, at a distance and
unknown as I am, the particular persons concerned, and measures concerted
to bring this about, I am wholly at a loss to conjecture, as 1 am what the

ANTI-STAMP ARGUMENTS AND MEASURES. 289

future effects and consequences will be, both with regard to myself and the
public. But, when I recollect my own reflections and speculations yester
day, a part of which were committed to writing last night, and may be seen
under December i8th, and compare them with the proceedings of Boston
yesterday, of which the foregoing letter informed me, I cannot but wonder
and call to mind my Lord Bacon's observation about secret inexorable
laws of nature, and communications and influence, between places, that are
not discoverable by sense. But I am now under all obligations of interest
and ambition, as well as honor, gratitude, and duty, to exert the utmost of
my abilities in this important cause. How shall it be conducted; shall we
contend that the stamp act is void — that the parliament has no authority
to impose internal taxes upon us, because we are not represented in it, and,
therefore, that the stamp act ought to be waived, by the judges, as against
natural equity and the constitution ? Shall we use these as arguments for
opening the courts of law? or shall we ground ourselves on necessity only?"
On Friday, the 2Oth of December, Mr. Adams went to Boston and, in
company with his associates in the matter, spent the whole day in attend
ance before the committee of the town and a large number of citizens.
During this meeting Adams stated quite freely his views of the matter.
After the candles had been lighted, came a message from the governor, that
he was in session with his council, and would hear the argument of the
issues arising under the memorial, but that no persons save the counsel for
the town should be permitted to attend. Having reached the chamber the
governor recommended that the counsel should divide their argument
among them by topics, thus avoiding repetition. Gridley was attorney-
general of the crown; Otis had committed himself, in the pamphlet referred
to, to a narrow line of defense — neither desired to assail the stamp act as
unconstitutional and void. Hence to Adams fell the lot of making the only
points against the act which could have justified the governor in ignoring ite
As junior counsel, he made the opening argument and that, too, upon a
question which had never before been raised in any court, and entirely with
out special preparation. His argument went to the root of the matter;
beginning with the assumption that the stamp act was not in any sense the
act of the memorialists, they having never consented to it, he proceeded to
demonstrate the necessary correlation of taxation with representation.
Then, descending from the general to the specific, he urged the absence of
any officer commissioned to distribute the stamps and the consequent
impossibility of enforcing the law, as sufficient excuse for opening the courts
to prevent a denial of justice. Mr. Otis discussed the enforced infraction of
the judges' oaths, and Mr. Gridley confined his argument to the immediate
damage and inconveniences caused by the closing of the courts. The gov
ernor refused to entertain the memorial or to go into its merits, holding that,
while the arguments were many of them very good ones, the application

290 JOHN ADAMS.

could only properly lie to the court of law ; that the determination of such a
question by the governor and council of a province, would be unprecedented
and would lay the former open to the charge of arrogating to himself powers
which he did not possess. This answer was but an evasion, and Bernard's
course throughout was evidently disingenuous. If he did not possess
authority in the mattter of the memorial, he must have known it before
consenting to hear counsel, and his action bears the appearance of having
been dictated by a desire to know the attitude which the town would take
toward the question. His decision, that an application to open the courts
must be made to those courts, though closed, calls for no comment.
Upon the question of damage and inconvenience, arising from the stoppage
of the legal machinery of the colony, he may justly have held that, as
Oliver's enforced resignation of his office was the act of the people, the
people must suffer the consequences.

On the day following the argument before the governor, Adams
was requested to attend a meeting of the committee of the town, called
for that day. He was, consequently, present. The counsel reported
the result of the argument, including the recommendation of the gov
ernor that the judges should take upon themselves the decision of the
question. The meeting received the report, then voted unanimously that
the reply of the governor was not satisfactory. The counsel were called on
in turn to express their opinion in the premises. There was the inevitable
difference among them as to the course most advisable to be adopted, but
all were united in the opinion that the proposed application to the judges
would be alike ineffectual and injudicious, while the balance of opinion
seemed to favor postponing the matter for the time, at least, and, with this,
the meeting adjourned.

It is impossible to further follow the history of the anti-stamp agitation.
Every effort to obtain redress failing, the law was openly defied, by the
courts of the colony, by individual citizens, and even in the custom houses;
the stamps grew moldy in the store-houses, the authority of the crown and
parliament was scouted, and, at last, an ignominious repeal of the act put a
period to the agitation. The repeal of the stamp act lacked but one ele
ment of wisdom. Had it been an unconditional retreat from the position
of the British administration, there would have been an end of all trouble
in the matter. As it was, the act of repeal strongly reaffirmed the right
of taxation, though it removed an obnoxious law. The people were, how
ever, in no mood for hair-splitting, and were ready enough to accept and
rejoice in their victory, though they reserved to themselves the right to
oppose, with vigor, any effort to enforce the right assumed by the crown.
As no such occasion came at once, the years immediately following the
repeal were quiet and tranquil. Business fell again into its old routine,
commerce thrived, the courts moved smoothly, and a casual observer might

SAMl'KL ADAMS.

ANTI-STAMP ARGUMENTS AND MEASURES. 2QI

well have failed to recognize the truth that the bonds which united the
colonies to Great Britain had been so rudely strained and stretched that
their parting was a certainty, and one, too, not remote.

Adams accepted, with thankfulness, the opportunity thus given for
returning to the practice of his profession. The stoppage of the courts had
caused a considerable accumulation of business. His retainer by the town
of Boston had greatly added to a reputation already reasonably well estab
lished, and he reaped his full share of the harvest of fees which came to the
impoverished bar of the province. From the year 1766 onward, until pub
lic events again called him to the service of the province, his course was one
of steady and increasing prosperity. In the spring of 1768 he removed his
residence from Braintree to Boston. He had, in fact, quite outgrown the
little rural arena in which he had fought his maiden battle. His businesr
had grown to be large, and of an important class, and more and more, day
by day, had centered in the capital of the province. He had already
attained a position of leadership in Braintree, being a selectman of the
town, and much consulted on ever}' local question. His departure from the
town, and the consequent resignation of his office, were sincerely regretted by
his fellow citizens, and there were not lacking those who considered that he
had foolishly surrendered the brightest political prospects. Of his life,
during the year 1768, he gives this vivid picture in his diary :

"To what object are my views directed? What is the end and purpose
of my studies, journeys, labors, of all kinds, of body and mind, of tongue
and pen. Am I grasping at money, or scheming for power? Am I plan
ning the illustration of my family, or the welfare of my country? These
are great questions. In truth, I am tossed about so much, from post to
pillar, that I have not leisure and tranquility enough to consider distinctly
my own views, objects, and feelings I am certain, how
ever, that the course I pursue will neither lead me to fame, fortune, power,
nor to the service of my friends, clients, or country. What plan of read
ing, reflection, or business can be pursued by a mar. who is now at Pownal-
borough, then at Martha's Vineyard, next at Boston, then at Taunton,
presently at Barnstable, then at Concord, now at Salem, then at Cambridge,
And afterwards at Worcester? Now at sessions, then at pleas, now in
admiralty, now at supreme court, then in the gallery of the House ? What
a dissipation must this be ! Is it possible to pursue a regular course of
thinking in this desultory life ? By no means. It is a life of " here and
everywhere;" — to use the expression that is applied to Othello by Descle-
mona's father, a rambling, roaming, vagrant, vagabond life; a wandering
life. At Mein's book store, at Bowe's shop, at Dana's house, at Fitch's,
Otis' office, and the clerk's office, in the court chamber, in the gallery, at
tny own fire, I am thinking on the same plan.

Scarcely was Mr. Adams settled in Boston, before came overtures from

292 JOHN ADAMS.

the government party to gain his service, if not his sympathy. Mr.
Jonathan Sewall still continued in warm and intimate friendship with him,
though the questions of the past few years had drifted them, politically,
very far apart. Coming to his house one day, Sewall announced his
intention of remaining to dine with him, and, after the meal was over, firct
secured the privacy of their conversation, then conveyed to him the desire
of Governor Bernard, that he should accept the vacant post of advocate
general in the court of admiralty. The offer was accompanied by an intima
tion that his political opinions had been taken into account, and that h:s
acceptance of the proffered position would not be regarded as in any sens*
a compromise of them. The offer was a very flattering one ; its acceptance
promised honor and emolument, yet he declined it. His reasons ; and hi<*
manner of so doing are stated in his autobiography: " My answer to Mr,
Sewall was very prompt : That I was sensible of the honor done me b\
the Governor ; but must be excused from accepting his offer. Mr. SewaU
enquired, Why; what was my objection? I answered that he knew very
well my political principles, the system I had adopted, and the connection*
and friendships I had formed in consequence of them. He also knew tha*
the British government, including the king, his ministers, and parliament,
apparently supported by a great majority of the nation, were persevering
in a system wholly inconsistent with all my ideas of right, justice, and policy-
and therefore I could not place myself in a situation in which my duty and
my inclination would be so much at variance. To this Mr. Sewall returned
that he was instructed by the Governor to say that he knew my political
sentiments very well, but they should be no objection to him. I should
be at full liberty to entertain my own opinions, which he did not wish to
influence by this office. He had offered it to me merely because he believed
I was best qualified for it, and because he relied on my integrity. I
replied that this was going as far in the generosity and liberality of his senti'
ments as the Governor could go, or as I could desire, if I could accept
the office ; but that I knew it would lay me under restraints and obligations
that I could not submit to, and, therefore, I could not, in honor or coiv
science, accept it. Mr. Sewall paused, and then, resuming the subject,
asked: 'Why are you so quick and sudden in your determination? You
had better take it under consideration, and give me your answer at some
future day.' I told him my answer had been ready because my mind was
clear and my determination decided and unalterable ; that my advice would
be that Mr. Fitch should be appointed, to whose views the office would
be perfectly agreeable. Mr. Sewall said he should certainly give me time
to think of it. I said that time would produce no change, and he had
better make his report immediately. We parted, and about three weeks
afterwards he came to me again, and hoped I had thought more favorably
on the subject; that the Governor had sent for him, and told him the public

ANTI-STAMP ARGUMENTS AND MEASURES.

293

business suffered, and the office must be filled. I told him my judgment,
and inclination, and determination were unalterably fixed, and that I had
hoped Mr. Fitch would be appointed before that time. Mr. Fitch, however,
never was appointed. He acted for the crown by the appointment of the
judge, from day to day, but had never any commission from the crown, or
appointment of the Governor."

The relinquishment of so fair a chance of advancement is an illustra
tion of the strict moral consistency of Mr. Adams, and, at the same time,
proves beyond question, that he saw in the temporary tranquility of the
province, only a lull in the storm ; that he looked for a renewal of the active
discontent which the repeal of the stamp act had, for the time, stilled ; and
saw how inevitably would he be compelled either to surrender the office
offered him, or to give to the king only a lip service, his heart going with
the cause of the king's discontented, perhaps even rebellious, subjects.
This fortunate prevision kept him free from entanglements, and free from
even the suspicion of having compromised his principles for place and
money, and thus preserved him for the highest service of his province in the
doubtful struggle which was, in fact, very near at hand.

Almost immediately after Mr. Adams' settlement in Boston, he set out
to attend court at Worcester, Springfield, and some other towns throughout
the province, and during his absence occurred three of the most important
events preliminary to the revolution, any one of which would have suf
ficiently vindicated the wisdom of his refusal to accept office at the hands of
the crown. These were the holding of the Boston convention, the arrival
of the royal commissioners of customs, and the landing of the British sol
diers, — ostensibly a protective garrison, in reality an army of occupation.
Governor Bernard had dissolved the general court, and refused to call a new
session of the Legislature ; the troops were quartered within the town, and
the cost of their maintenance was to be enforced as a charge against the
people of Boston. The arrival of the army was the first cast of the
administration in the new game for the subduing of the recalcitrant colony.
Legislative imposition had been contemptuously cast off; it was evident that
the dread of British power, as an abstraction, had not sufficient weight to
insure respect for the laws of parliament and the policy of ministries; that
power must be materialized; — and so there came the gleam of white sails in
the offing, guns frowned along the grim flanks of a fleet not from, but toward,
the little city, and there marched through its streets, seven hundred red-
coated incarnations of royal power, while the inhabitants were told that more
were yet to follow. In this predicament — the general court dissolved, the
Governor an enemy, and the chief justice little less — the town of Boston
held a public meeting on the I2th and I3th of September, at which it was
resolved that the king, in time of peace, had no right to station troops within
the colony, without an expressed and official request so to do. On the

294 JOHN ADAMS.

I4th, a circular was addressed to the selectmen of other towns within the
province, requesting them to send delegates to a convention to be held in
Boston on the 22nd. The reasons assigned for holding this convention were
those obviously suggested by the presence of the army, and, very unwisely,
the evidently false one of "prospect of a war with France." This ostrich-
like effort to conceal the aim of the selectmen, by hiding the head, while
the body remained exposed, laid a very just, dignified and respectable move
ment open to unmerited contempt, and very considerably detracted from its
weight. In spite, however, of this mistake, and of the short notice given,
more than one hundred towns were represented in the convention. The
proceedings were mainly in the nature of protests against the military
occupation and the billeting act; the convention expressly disavowed the
possession of legislative powers, and its importance was principally in the
indication it gave of a determination on the part of the people to protect
their rights to extremities.

The arrival of the soldiers aroused the people to fury; they refused to
provide for the accommodation of the troops, and demanded that they be
quartered at the castle, without the city proper; this request might have
been granted, but for the meeting of the convention, which the Governor
and General Gage chose to regard as so nearly approaching an act of
treason, as to absolve them from considering the feelings of the people.
Hence, Faneuil hall and other public buildings \vere converted into bar
racks, pending an effort to enforce the billeting act, and, this quite failing,
it eventually became necessary to hire houses for the purpose. Even this
was only accomplished with great difficulty, and at exorbitant cost.

There were not lacking persons ready enough to inflame the people
against the soldiers ; the latter could not go abroad singly or in small parties
without being taunted, insulted, and sometimes assailed by mobs of citizens
"of the baser sort," and so the rancor and hatred of the people were
returned most heartily by the troops. Finally, on the night of the 5th of
March, 1770, a crowd larger than usual being upon the streets, a sentry,
on guard, was insulted by a passer-by ; a brawl ensued; a corporal's guard
came to the assistance of the imperiled soldier, and, gathering about
him, faced the citizens, not more than twenty-five or thirty of whom were
gathered. The latter proceeded from abuse to violence, hurling clubs,
stones, and other missiles, at the red-coats, until the position of the latter
became really perilous ; then the guard — some say of their own accord, and
others under the orders of their commander, Captain Preston — fired upon
the crowd, killing five of the bystanders, more or less active participants in
the riot. The people were aroused to the point of madness by this occur
rence. The British commander drew in his force to a defensible part of the
town, planted cannon to sweep the streets, and only by these precautions
were prevented general riot and fearful bloodshed, which seemed inevitable.

DEFENSE OF THE SOLDIERS.

CHAPTER V.

DEFENSE OF THE SOLDIERS-ELECTED TO THE ASSEMBLY CONTROVERSY WITH

BOWDOIN.

WHEN had passed the first excitement aroused by the "Boston
massacre," came the demand for the trial of the captain and
soldiers who had been engaged in the affair. All surrendered themselves,
and were promptly indicted for murder. At this point began Adams' con
nection with the case, best told in the language of his autobiography. "The
next morning, I think it was, sitting in my office near the steps of the town-
house stairs, Mr. Eorrest came in, who was then called the 'Irish infant.'
I had some acquaintance with him. With tears streaming from his eyes,
he said, ' I am come with a very solemn message from a very unfortunate
man, — Captain Preston, — in prison. He wishes for counsel, and can get
none. I have waited on Mr. Ouincy, who says he will engage if you will
give him your assistance ; without it, he positively will not. Even Mr.
Auchmuty declines, unless you will engage.' I had no hesitation in answer
ing that counsel ought to be the very last thing t-hat an accused person
should want, in a free country ; that the bar ought, in my opinion, to be
independent and impartial, at all times and in ever)* circumstance, and that
persons whose lives were at stake ought to have the counsel they preferred.
But he must be sensible this would be as important a cause as was ever
tried in any court or country of the world, and that every lawyer must hold
himself responsible, not only to his country, but to the highest and most
infallible of all tribunals, for the part he should act. Pie must, therefore,
expect from me no art or address, no sophistry or prevarication, in such a
cause, nor anything more than fact, evidence, and law would justify.
'Captain Preston,' he said, 'requested and desired no more; and that he
had such an opinion, from all he had heard from all parties, of me, that he
could cheerfully trust his life with me, upon those principles. And,' said
Forrest, 'as God Almighty is my judge, I believe him an innocent, man.'
I replied: That must be ascertained by his trial, and, if he believes he can-

296 JOHN ADAM:J.

not have a fair trial of that issue without my assistance, without hesitation
he shall have it.

"Upon this Forrest offered me a single guinea as a retaining fee, and I
readily accepted it. From first to last I never said a word about fees, in
any of those cases, and I should have said nothing about them here, if
calumnies and insinuations had not been propagated that I was tempted by
great fees and enormous sums of money. Before or after the trial, Preston
sent me ten guineas, and, at the trial of the soldiers afterward, eight guineas
more, which were all the fees I ever received or were offered to me, and I
should not have said anything on the subject to my clients, if they had
never offered me anything. This was all the pecuniary reward I ever had
for fourteen or fifteen days' labor, in the most exhausting and fatiguing
cases I ever tried, for hazarding a popularity very general and very hardly
earned, and for incurring a clamor, popular suspicions and prejudices, which
are not yet worn out, and never will be forgotten as long as the history
of this period is read. It was immediately bruited about that I was engaged
for Preston and the soldiers, and occasioned a great clamor, which the fi (ends
of government delighted to hear and slyly and secretly foment with all their
art."

The trial of the soldiers was postponed to a later term of court. The
account of the trial, when it was called, survives very briefly in the auto
biography, and may be again quoted : " Not long after the adjournment of
the general court, came on the trial of Captain Preston and the soldiers.
I shall say little of these cases. Preston's trial was taken down in short
hand and sent to England, but was never printed here. I told the court
and jury in both cases that, as I was no authority, I wrould propose to them
no law from my own memory, but would read to them all I had to say of
that nature from books, which the court knew, and the counsel on the other
side must acknowledge, to be indisputable authorities. The rule was care
fully observed, but the authorities were so clear and full that no question of
law was made. The juries in both cases, in my opinion, gave correct ver
dicts. It appeared to me that the greatest service which could be rendered
to the people of the town, was to lay before them the law as it stood, that
they might be fully apprised of the dangers of various kinds, which must
arise from intemperate heats and irregular commotions. Although the
clamor was very loud, among some sorts of people, it has been a great con
solation to me through life, that I acted, in this business, with steady impar
tiality, and conducted it to so happy an issue."

Six of the eight soldiers were acquitted on this trial ; the others were
convicted of manslaughter, and, pleading a benefit of clergy, were branded
on the hand and released. In the continuation, by Charles Francis Adams,
of the memoir of his grandfather, begun by John Quincy Adams, is given
a considerable extract from the speech of the illustrious counsel for the

DEFENSE OF THE SOLDIERS. 297

defense. It was simple, scholarly, and, in every sentence, to the question.
It opened as follows : " May it please your honors, and you gentlemen of
the jury, I am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in
the language of the Marquis Beccaria : 'If I can but be the instrument of
preserving one life, his blessing and tears of transport shall be sufficient
consolation to me for the contempt of mankind.' ' This was, in reality,
the view of the case taken by Mr. Adams. It is easier now to undervalue
than to appreciate the real strength of character necessary to the assump
tion and performance of what he felt to be his duty. The defense of
Charles I., against the charges of the commonwealth; of Louis XVI.,
against the fury of the revolutionists ; of Wilkes Booth, had his death not
anticipated trial, against the charge of murder — these, while the right may
have lain on a different side of the case, will convey some faint idea of the
hazard of Mr. Adams' -decision. All the respect in which he was held ; all
the reputation gained by years of conscientious uprightness ; all the hope of
future success and preferment, which exists in the breast of every generous
man, — all these were placed in the balance, and weighed not at all against
his persuasion of justice and duty. Quincy, who was associated with him
in the trial, received from his father a letter, remonstrating against any con
nection with the matter. He answered bravely and manfully, as would
Adams, had he been put to the test : "To inquire my duty, and do it, is
my aim. I dare affirm that you and this whole people will one day rejoice
that I became an advocate for the aforesaid criminals, charged with the
murder of our fellow-citizens."

As a matter of fact, however, Adams lost nothing of popularity by his
action. The best element of the people came to recognize, in the soberness
of afterthought, the fact that he was right in his judgment, and that the kill
ing of the five citizens, which, even to this day, is miscalled the "Boston
massacre," was, in fact, the simplest act of self-defense on the part of the
soldiers. Pending the trial, James Bowdoin, a member of the house of
representatives, had been advanced to the council, leaving a vacancy in the
former body. A special election was held on the 6th of June, and Mr.
Adams was elected successor of Bowdoin, by a vote of four hundred and
eighteen out of a total poll of five hundred and thirty-six votes. He thus
gives an account of the event in his autobiography :

" I had never been to Boston town meeting, and was not at this until
messengers came to inform me that I was chosen. I went down to Faneuil
hall, and, in a few words, expressive of my sense of the difficulty and dan
ger of the times, of the importance of the trust, and of my own insuffi
ciency to fulfil the expectations of the people, I accepted the choice. Many
congratulations were offered, which I received civilly, but they gave no joy
to me. I considered the step a devotion of my family to ruin, and myself
to death ; for I could scarce perceive a possibility that I should ever go

298 JOHN ADAMS.

through the thorns and leap all the precipices before me and escape with my
life. At this time. I had more business at the bar than any man in the
province. My health was feeble. I was throwing away as bright prospects
as any man ever had before him, and I had devoted myself to endless labor
and anxiety, if not to infamy and to death, and that for nothing, except
what indeed was, and ought to be in all, a sense of duty. In the evening I
expressed to Mrs. Adams all my apprehensions. That excellent lady, who
has always encouraged me, burst into a flood of tears, but said she was very
sensible of all the danger to her and to our children, as well as to me, but
she thought I had done as I ought; she was very willing to share in all that
was to come, and place her trust in Providence."

Mr. Adams at once proceeded to Cambridge and took his seat in the
general court, which had been convened at that place by the governor, as a
punishment of the contumacious Bostonians. A little anecdote related in
the autobiography is somewhat amusing. At that session the words "In
general court assembled and by authority of the same," were replaced in
the preamble of bills presented, having been before used, but dropped at
the instance of a former king's governor, Shirley, who then lived at Rox-
bury. Quite a dispute arose on the subject of the use of this form, and the
old ex-governor, having read of it in the papers, asked : ' ' Who has revived
those old words? They were expunged during my administration."
"The Boston seat," was the answer. " And who are the Boston seat?"
"Mr. Gushing, Mr. Hancock, Mr. Samuel Adams, and Mr. John Adams."
"Mr. Gushing I know, and Mr. Hancock I know," he replied, "but where
the devil this brace of Adamses came from, I know not."

Mr. Adams continued a representative of the town of Boston until the
spring of 1771, when, compelled by the failure of his health, he removed his
family to the old home at Braintree. His legislative service was very ardu
ous. Never a man to assume a duty without solemnly dedicating himself
to its performance ; recognized as the foremost constitutional lawyer of the
province, he was constantly employed upon committees having to deal with
one or another of the multitudinous phases of the contest between the crown
and the province. He drew long reports and resolutions, many of which
involved laborious and exhaustive legal research ; he conducted protracted
and trying arguments in the press ; he labored with the people to keep alive
the- independent sentiments which he feared would be weakened by the les
sening of immediate cause of irritation. During the session of 1770, he was
appointed upon no less than eighteen special committees, every one of
which called for important service which fell very largely to his lot. In
addition to his regular and special labor as a legislator, he continued to
carry on his practice as a lawyer, the largest in the province, and to respond
to constant calls for advice and assistance in matters of public moment, and,
beyond all these, the social demands inevitably made upon a man of his posi-

CONTROVERSY WITH BRATTLE. 2OX}

— all combined to deprive him of leisure for rest or study, and
eventually to undermine his health and seriously threaten his life. He did
not, upon the removal of his family, give up his office in Boston, but, save for
a few weeks, while absent in quest of health, was almost daily in the city, and
gave much attention to his practice. In November of the year 17/2, find
ing himself much stronger and tired of the inconvenient ride from Braintree
to Boston, he purchased a house in the latter town and once more removed
his residence there, at the same time determining not to be drawn into
politics. How soon he was compelled, by a sense of duty, to give over this
resolve and plunge into a heated and dangerous contest, is a matter of
familiar history.

In 1773 came the proposal to take the judicial officers of the province
into the king's pay, thus making them dependent, not only for their places,
but for their support, upon the crown, and winning, if possible, a subserv
ience which should be useful in securing the suppression of " incendiary "
processes. This plan, and the subsequent enactment in which it was
crystallized, while they did not so immediately appeal to the fears of the
common people as did the stamp act, excited greater apprehension among
the thinking men of the community. The former was a single act of over
bearing injustice, falling under the control of these courts, and within the
statutes, the rules of the common law, and the guaranties of the constitu
tion, which would justify its defeat whenever its evident conflict with an}- of
them should be manifest; the latter was a deeper, more vital, in every way
more dangerous blow. It struck at the very foundation of things, threatening
the principal safeguard of popular liberty, and promising to open the way
for the unopposed enforcement of the most tyrannous decrees of the home
government. No one was more anxious or instant in opposing the innova
tion, than was Adams. He, however, made no public expression in the
matter until William Brattle, of Cambridge, who had been heartily opposed
to the stamp act, but had since succumbed to the wiles of Hutchinson,
made a speech in favor of the new judiciary act, in a town meeting, at which
the citizens had almost unanimously voted to instruct their representative to
oppose that measure. After making a succession of mis-statements, and
advancing a series of sophisms, he challenged, by name, several persons,
including Mr. Adams, to oppose his arguments. But for the fear that his
silence might be interpreted as an assent, Mr. Adams would probably have
passed even so direct a challenge without notice, but as Brattle published
his argument and defiance in one of the Boston papers, the matter seemed
to demand'attention. Hence, Adams prepared and published, in the Bos
ton Gazette, during the early months of 1775, a series of eight letters,
which completely silenced Brattle, and did very much in awakening the
people to appreciation of the enormous wrong meditated.

The burden of the argument tended to enforce the necessity cf

300 JOHN Ar/.MS.

taining an independent judiciary, directly responsible to the people ; to point
the effect of transferring to the home government the payment as well as
the appointment of judges, in undermining their independence, and, lastly,
to prove the desirability of making the tenure of their office continue
during good behavior, and to show that such a tenure did not, as argued by
Brattle, already exist in the province. Hutchinson could not have been
more devoted to the interests of the administration had he been born and
lived in Mayfair. Though a native of Massachusetts, and a life-long asso
ciate with the leaders of the liberty movement, he had given or sold him
self, body and soul, to the king, held several judicial offices in addition to
the governorship, and had handsomely provided for his relatives and friends.
He was thoroughly in sympathy with the effort to purchase the judiciary,
yet he saw enough in Adams' argument to lead him to write to the home
government, urging that, to allay the distrust of the people, a specific
promise be made them, that the judges should hold office only during good
behavior.

Mr. Adams had been dragged into an unwilling prominence by the
necessity of answering Brattle's impertinent challenge, and would gladly
have again withdrawn to the peace and obscurity of private life, but the
emergencies of the time would not permit such indulgence, and he was,
much against his will, compelled to resume the pen in the defense of popu
lar rights. The occasion arose as follows : The spirit of independence had
grown so strong and bold, that the denial of the right of parliament to
interfere with the internal affairs of the province was openly made. Hutch
inson repeated one of the many mistakes of his predecessor, Bernard, by
challenging a pointless and utterly gratuitous contest with the people. At
the opening of the general court, in 1773, he made an elaborate argument
in support of the prerogative. He was very \vell satisfied with his effort,
and, having little fear of an answer, felt confident of producing a decided
popular reaction. The argument was not a very profound one, depending
largely upon the necessary correlation of the duty of obedience with the
privilege of claiming protection. He avowed that the ultimate authority
must be either in Great Britain or in the province itself; if in the latter,
what was it but independence, and what obligation remained in Great Britain
to extend her protection further than her authority ? Proceeding to the
clause of the colonial charter by which the inhabitants of Massachusetts
were guaranteed all the rights of Englishmen, he said that the rights of
Englishmen were not uniform, even within England. He sophistically
urged that the rights guaranteed were necessarily limited to such as it was
possible to grant ; that by leaving England, the colonists had voluntarily
cut themselves off from many rights, including that of representation, which
they might resume upon returning. Thus he skilfully substituted the par
ticular right of the individual for the corporate right of the colonist, and sue-

CONTROVERSY WITH ARATTLE. 30 1

ceeded in evolving a very specious, though thoroughly false, argument in
favor of his position.

This could not, of course, be suffered to pass in silence ; a committee
of the House was appointed, charged with the duty of preparing an answer
and empowered to call for aid from competent persons, within or without
Massachusetts, in framing it.

3O2 JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER VI.

REPLY TO THE GOVERNOR— ADAMS APPOINTED DELEGATE TO THE FIRST CONGRESS.

IT is said upon the authority of a single person, that the assistance of Mr.
Dulany, of Maryland, and John Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, — both of
whom had been prominent in opposition to the stamp act, was solicited by
the committee for the service named in the last chapter, and refused ; be
this as it may, they certainly bore no part in preparing the answer, which
was very slow in appearing. When it came, every one at once acknowl
edged its logical force, clearness, and exhaustiveness. It went to the very
root of the question, denying much to the king that had been universally
admitted. It denied the right of the monarch of a Christian people to
seize the lands of heathen, and grant them at his pleasure; by hypothetically
admitting this right, however, it proceeded with the statement that the
sovereign, in whom, if not in its aboriginal inhabitants, lay the title to the
lands lying within the boundaries of the province, had expressly granted to
certain of his subjects the right to occupy and settle the same, under certain
restrictions appearing in the language of the grant ; this, it was claimed,
reduced the question from one of natural right to one of interpretation of
the grant, and of the presumption arising from subsequent acts of the
colonists, done under its sanction, and countenanced by the king. Among
these acts \vas that of making all laws for the internal government of
the province, subject to no restriction, save that they should not be repug
nant to the laws of England. This very limitation, under Lord Bacon's
rule, would increase the presumptive right of self-government on the part
of the colony. For the king to have made a guaranty of the rights of
British subjects, as an integral part of a colonial grant, unless those rights
were intended to be exercised in that colony, would be an absurdity. If
these rights could only be enforced by returning to England, it needed no
solemn act of the king to convey them, for they already existed, and to
withdraw them was beyond his powrer. The paper then proceeded to a

REPLY TO THE GOVERNOR. 303

review of Mr. Hutchinson's precedents, and less vital arguments; by a
clever argumcntum ad Jioniinein, it turned against him his own words,
embodied in his History of Massachusetts, to prove his disingenuousness.

The effect of this masterly paper was not only to completely rout the
governor, but to more than counteract his own argument. Had he been
content to allow matters to take their course, the progress of the liberty
propaganda must have been slow, but his unwise and ill-considered precipi
tation of the contest, and his ignominious defeat gave to his enemies a
power for which they might long have striven in vain.

The authorship of the answer has been very much questioned and dis
cussed, yet it seems very plain that the facts were fully recognized at the
time. As it was by far the most important state document of the pre-
revolutionary period, it seems proper that the credit for its preparation
should be properly bestowed. The facts appear to have been as follows :
A committee, which included Samuel Adams and Joseph Hawley, was
appointed by the house to frame a reply to the governor's argument. An
answer was, in fact, prepared, principally by Mr. Samuel Adams, after the
completion of which, Mr. John Adams, though not a member of the
house, was called upon for counsel. His autobiography tells much of what
followed :

"When I first met the gentlemen, they had an answer to his excel
lency's speech already prepared, neatly and elegantly composed, which I
then believed to have been written by Samuel Adams, but which I have
since had reason to suspect was drawn at his desire and with his co-opera
tion, by my friend, Dr. Joseph Warren. It was full of those elementary
principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity, which have since made such a
figure in the world ; principles which are founded in nature and eternal,
unchangeable truth, but which must be well understood and cautiously
applied. It is not safe, at all times, and in every cause, to apply the ratio
ultima vcrinn ; resort to club law and force of arms. There was no answer,
or attempt to answer, the governor's legal and constitutional arguments.
such as they were. I found myself in a delicate situation, as you may well
suppose. In the first place, the self-love of the composer, who I believed
to be Samuel Adams, having then no suspicion of Warren, would be hurt
by garbling his infant. In the second place, to strike out principles which I
loved as well as any of the people, would be odious and unpopular,
read that West would give five hundred dollars for a red lion, which he
painted for a sign post. I, poor as I am, would give as much for a copy
of that answer to Governor Hutchinson. But I fear it is lost forever ; it
may, however, be found hereafter, and I hope it may.

read the answer, paragraph by paragraph. I suggested my doubts, scruples,
and difficulties The committee seemed to see and feel the force of them.
The gentlemen condescended to ask my opinion what answer would be

304 JOHN ADAMS.

proper for them to report. I modestly suggested to them the propriety of
leaving out many of those popular and elegant periods, and of discussing
the question, with the governor, upon principles more especially legal and
constitutional. The gentlemen very civilly requested me to undertake the
task, and I agreed to attempt it. The committee met from evening to
evening, and I soon made my report. I drew a line over the most eloquent
parts of the oration they had before them, and reduced those legal and his
torical authorities which appear on the record. It is more than forty years
since I have seen any one of those papers which composed the controversy,
and I know not how they would appear to the present generation, nor
indeed, how they would appear to myself. They stand upon record and
were printed together, in a pamphlet, and no doubt in the newspapers.
They ought to be looked up, for the effect of them upon public opinion was
beyond expectation. The governor's reasoning, instead of convincing the
people that parliament had sovereign authority over them in all cases what
soever, seemed to convince all the world that parliament had no authority
over them, in any case whatsoever. Mr. Hutchinson really made a meagre
figure in that dispute. He had waded beyond his depth. He had wholly
misunderstood the legal doctrine of allegiance. In all great affairs there is
always something ridiculous ; et malheurcusement, fat toujours ete trop inclina
a saisir les ridicules. I had quoted largely from a law authority which no
man in Massachusetts, at that time, had ever read. Hutchinson and all his
law counsels were at fault. They dared not deny it, lest the book should be
produced to their confusion. It was humorous enough to see how Hutchin
son wriggled to evade it. He found nothing better to say than that " it was
the artificial reasoning of Lord Coke." The book was Moore's Reports.
The owner of it, for alas, master, it was borrowed, was a buyer, but not a
reader of books. It had been Mr. Gridley's."

From this statement it must be very clear that, while Samuel Adams
framed the body of the answer, it was his more distinguished kinsman who
breathed into it the soul ; that, while without his help it might have
ranked as a very pretty patriotic declaration, it was the master hand and
mind of John Adams which gave it its vital power, and made it, as it is
even to-day, a significant argument to the point.

Hutchinson's reply was very lame. He recast his argument, falling
back upon the right of eminent domain, to sustain the theory that British
subjects, in every part of the world, held their lands from the crown of
England, not from the king as an individual, and that an obligation to sub
mit to the authority of the crown was a necessary correlative of such tenure.
This was, in effect, to claim that the colonists of Massachusetts were feuda
tories of the crown, and such argument was equivalent to a desertion of the
ground which he had formerly taken. Of course, such vacillation did not
strengthen his case. It was, in fact, practically an admission of defeat.

REPLY TO THE GOVERNOR. 305

If he was before defeated, he had now opened Lhe way for annihilation.
The committee again consulted Adams, who prepared an admirable rebuttal
of Hutchinson's new argument, which completely drove the latter from the
field, earning him the contempt of the colonists, and bringing upon him the
criticism of the administration to which he was so servilely devoted.

Hutchinson's influence, and consequent value to the home government,
was very much impaired by this faux pas, and, very shortly afterward, came
the finishing stroke. By some agency never fully explained, there came into
the possession of Mr. Adams and his few stanch and confidential associates,
a number of letters written by Hutchinson and his friends to correspondents
in England. These letters made a sensation, even among those who had
none too great confidence in the governor ; they had before given him credit
for a certain measure of sincerity; they now discovered that he was a Judas,
trafficking in the liberties of his countrymen, in the coolest and most calcu
lating manner. The possession of the letters was for a time kept for the
most part a secret, none but the faithful being informed of their existence.
Then it was deemed wise to extend the knowledge to some honest men who,
misled by Hutchinson's arguments, were wavering in their allegiance to the
patriot cause. Among these was John Hancock. Never so much of a man
as he has had credit for being, the most wealthy colonist of Massachusetts,
conceited, and easily offended, he was out of conceit with Adams and others
of his old associates, and already found his friends and advisers in the oppo
site camp. A timely reading of Hutchinson's letters brought him at once
to his senses, and he joined heartily in the effort which was later made to
secure the removal of the obnoxious and treacherous governor. On May
25, 1773, occurred the annual election of members of the general assembly.
Friends of Mr. Adams so persistently urged him to accept an election to
the council, and supported their request by appeals to his public spirit, so
strong that he wras induced to give over his determination to remain aloof
from public affairs and consent to the use of his name. He was elected by
a very large majority, but, having done what he deemed the right, was still
saved from the service he so little desired, by the act of the governor, who
exercised his right of objection, and prevented him from assuming his seat.
No sooner had the general court met than the letters of Hutchinson and
his associates were published, and were made the basis of a petition of the
general court to the king, praying the removal of Hutchinson from his post
of governor, and, also, of Andrew Oliver, who was then lieutenant-governor.
It seemed extremely unlikely that the expressed wish of the colonists should
avail against either, and the petition was, in fact, ignored, but other con
siderations compassed the desired end. Hutchinson had made so many mis
takes and was so completely unmasked before the people that his usefulness
was over. Being severely criticized in England, he later sent a request to
be allowed to explain his action in person, and receiving it, sailed from Bos-

306 JOHN ADAMS.

ton never again to see the land which he had both loved and wronged.

Hutchinson out of the way, the attention of the general court was
turned to the question of judicial salaries. Strong efforts were made to
induce the judges to refuse to accept payment from the home government,
but these developed the fact that the chief justice had already drawn his
salary for eighteen months ; that three of the judges were inclined to the
same course, and that only one — Trowbridge — could be depended upon to
respect the will of the people. This seemed a hopeless case; the crown,
the governor, the council,, the judges themselves — all were arrayed in sup
port of the outrageous measure, and there seemed, indeed, no recourse but
in submission. The house had drawn up a petition demanding the removal
of the chief justice, and had even gone so far as to vote the adjournment of
the superior court, for three days, after the commencement of the term, to
prevent his sitting, pending the action of the governor and council in the
premises. Of course the petition was not considered, as the governor and
council could scarcely have reversed the edict of king and parliament. At
this juncture, Mr. Adams attended a large and mixed dinner party, at the
house of Mr. Samuel Winthrop. The conversation was almost entirely
regarding the judicial question. After nearly every person at the table had
spoken, the last, turning to Mr. Adams, said, " Mr. Adams, we have not
heard your sentiments on this subject; how do you consider it?" He
answered that his own sentiments had been expressed by others; that, if
nothing could be done to defeat the measures of the crown, the ruin of the
province would be accomplished.

" But," said Dr. Winthrop, " what can be done? "

Adams answered : "I know not whether any one will approve of my
opinion, yet I believe there is one constitutional resource."

Several voices at once cried out: "A constitutional resource; what
can it be?"

"It is," said Mr. Adams, "nothing more nor less than an impeachment
of the judges, by the house of representatives, before the council."

These words created the greatest excitement. Some cried out that
such a course was without precedent.

" I believe it, is so, " said Adams, "in this province, but there have
been precedents enough, and by much too many, in England. It is a dan
gerous experiment at all times, but it is essential to the preservation of the
constitution, in some cases, that could be reached by no other power but
that of impeachment."

"But whence can we pretend to derive such power," was the next
question.

"From our charter, which gives us, in words as express, as clear,
and as strong as the language affords, all the rights of Englishmen, and, if
the house of commons, in England, is the grand inquest of the nation, the

JOHN HANCOCK.

APPOINTED DELEGATE TO THE FIRST CONGRESS. 3O/

house of representatives is the grand inquest of this province, and the
council must have the powers of judicature of the house of lords in Great
Britain. "

After had passed the first surprise excited by this bold proposal, the
practicability of such a measure was discussed at length. The company
was well agreed in believing that, though the house might impeach the
judges, the council, being under the domination of the governor, would
either refuse to try the impeachment, or, trying, would not sustain it. As
events proved, there was also a general feeling that the experiment should
be tried. There seemed no other resort, and, having made a case, if jus
tice could not be obtained, the odium must rest where it properly belonged.
On the next clay, Hawley, a member of the house, called upon Mr. Adams,
and questioned him closely as to the law and authorities bearing upon the
matter ; examined the English statutes, and consulted the state trials and
other reports, in search of authorities. Thence he went directly to see Mr.
Trowbriclge, the only judge who had refused the purchase money of the
king, and discussed the subject with him. Truly an odd situation; calling
upon a public officer to consult with him as to the propriety of instituting
proceedings for his own impeachment! Trowbridge, although he had
renounced the salary of his position, naturally did not highly relish the pro
posal to so summarily assail the bench, yet he was obliged to admit that
there existed unquestionable constitutional and chartered authority for the
proceeding.

Reinforced by this opinion, the house appointed a committee to draw
up articles of impeachment against Oliver, the chief justice. Hawley was a
member of the committee, and insisted upon having .Adams' counsel in the
matter. Hence the committee passed evening after evening at his house,
examining the impeachment, article by article, in the light of his advice
and the authorities, until all was read}*. Then the report was made, and
the house, adopting the impeachment, sent it up to the council, where it
rested without consideration, much to the delight of the tory part}'. This
feeling was, however, very short lived, for, when the superior court met,
with Oliver upon the bench, the jurors, both of the grand and petit panel,
as their names were called, refused, to a man, to take the oath. Their rea
sons being asked, they replied that the chief-justice of the court stood
impeached of high crimes and misdemeanors before his majesty's council,
and they would not sit as jurors while that accusation was depending.
Juror^ at Charlcstown, Worcester and other points in the province took the
same stand, the courts were necessarily adjourned, never again to meet
under royal authority. When next they came together, it was by the call
of the governor, after the battle of Lexington, and under the rights
granted the province in its charter. Thus the impeachment, received with
silent contempt by the king's council, was nevertheless fruitful in results,

308 JOHN ADAMS.

so soon as the people having heard, took it upon them to decide it. The
judges found their occupation gone ; the effort of the parliament to retain
the bench of the province for the cause of the crown, reacted upon its pro
jectors, and the second blow at the liberty of the colonies had failed. Mr.
Adams, as the projector of the impeachment, gained greatly in reputation,
and was set down by king's officers at home and in England, as the most
able and dangerous of all the " rebels."

With the closing of the courts, closed as well the first epoch of the
contest between the king and the colony of Massachusetts. For thirteen
years it had continued, and never, during that time, had the administration
doubted that by the use of arts and finesse, the councils of the colonies
might be divided; the leaders seduced by more or less direct bribes, and,

o »

finally, the people be wheedled and cajoled into submission. Lord North
now saw his mistake. The destruction of the tea in Boston harbor, and the
contumacy of colonists whenever they came in conflict with the king's
authority, told him that the time for argument had passed, and he must now
resort to sterner measures. The king's authority must be established at any
expense of money, or of blood. It seems strange, in looking back, that it
should have required all these years to convince the administration that the
people of Massachusetts were contending, not alone for the righting of
specific wrongs, or the removal of given impositions, but for the establish
ment of principles, and against the fixing of precedents which must prove
destructive to their liberties.

As a result of this tardy recognition of the truth, came, in quick suc
cession, the Boston port bill, the revocation of the charter of Massachu
setts, the act for the removal of certain offenders to other colonies, or to
England, for trial, the appointment of Gage as military governor, and the
order for massing troops in Boston. In other words, the policy of intimida
tion and punishment had been fully adopted. With this policy, disappeared
from the councils of the Massachusetts patriots the last doubtful voice.
Many of Hutchinson's friends followed him to England; those who remained
were cowed and silent in the presence of the people.

There came, too, with these severe measures, a great change to the life
of Mr. Adams. He had before, with the sole exception of his own term
in the house of representatives, been but a councillor of the people ;
thenceforth he was to be a leader. He had determined to avoid politics
and public life, and devote himself to his profession, that he might provide
for himself, his wife, and children ; now, with the enforcement of these
tyrannous edicts, courts were closed, commerce and trade cut off, and he
found his occupation gone. On the one hand, he was called upon to face
the danger of loss of property, loss of life, or, at least, outlawry, in the
service of a desperate cause, which seemed almost foredoomed to failure
and destruction ; on the other, was the ignominy of retreat in the face of

APPOINTED DELEGATE TO THE FIRST CONGRESS. 309

danger, the certainty of earning the contempt of his fellows, and the
reproval of his own conscience. All these prospects and possibilities he
recognized, but, in his journals and correspondence, we look in vain for any
symptom of wavering or timidity. The vital moment had come, and he
did not hesitate to cast his all into the scale of liberty.

When met at Salem the last general court of Massachusetts which
pretended, even in form, to recognize the authority of the governor, having
been banished to that place as a punishment of the recalcitrant citizens
of Boston, every patriot in the colonies looked for some signal action from
that body, in the direction of uniting the colonies in opposition to the
high-handed outrages of the administration. It was not long in coming.
On the i /th day of June, the secretary was sent to the general court with a
message of dissolution. That body was even then discussing the proposal
to send a delegation to meet committees of other colonies at Philadelphia;
this was to be the first Continental Congress, but it had not yet found a
name. The doors were closed in the face of the honorable secretary, and
he was kept, vainly clamoring without, until the matter was concluded, and
five gentlemen — Mr. Bowdoin, Air. Gushing, Mr. Samuel Adams, Mr. John
Adams, and Mr. Robert Treat Paine — had been appointed, and instructed
to attend the meeting. Then the doors were opened, and the empty form
of dissolution was suffered to proceed.

From the time of this choice, Mr. Adams' service was for many years
almost continuous, yet it was wider and more important, mingling more
with affairs of commonly recorded and familiar history, neither demanding
nor permitting so minute and particular account as has been given of his
earlier life, and the services which he gave to the cause of liberty within his
own colony, in the days of the inception and growth of the spirit which led
to the great Revolution. Adams usually saw farther than his neighbors
and he now recognized the certainty of complications more serious than
any the colonies had ever known, and the probability of bloodshed. He
removed his family to Braintree to prepare, as he said, for the coming storm.
He placed his affairs in the best condition possible, so that in his absence,
longer or shorter, his family might be provided for, then was ready to join
his fellows in their pilgrimage to Philadelphia, and to dedicate his prosper
ity, his time, even life itself, to the cause in which his heart was so ear
nestly engaged.

JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER VII.

SERVICE IN CONGRESS.

THE duties of that first Continental Congress, and the responsibilities
placed upon its members, were most peculiar and delicate. The path
before them had never been trodden ; they were without precedent or
authority to guide them. Appointed by the people represented in the
various colonial legislatures, as a result of the impulse to do something,
which always arises in the face of a dangerous emergency, the majority of
those whom they went to represent had no idea as to what that some
thing should be, and, among those who had formulated a policy in their
own minds, there was the widest diversity of opinion. The colonies were
as different in the spirit and tendencies of their people, as in their origin ;
nothing but a common peril, of the greatest moment, could ever have
brought them together in council, and they looked upon each other with
no small measure of distrust. The situation of Massachusetts was more
doubtful than that of any other colony. While the principle upon which
the contest with the crown arose was one of common significance, the
specific acts of oppression which had aroused the colonies were almost
entirely confined to that province. It had been the sufferer, and its dele
gates to Philadelphia went from a people without courts of law, without
recognized chartered rights, without a legal existence, from the standpoint
of the crown. They went, then, rather to appeal for support and protec
tion, than to consult with their neighbors upon a common footing for the
common welfare. This was, of course, a false view, and it did not ultimately
prevail to such a degree as to prevent hearty co-operation, but it presented
a possibility which caused much anxiety to Adams and his colleagues, and
to the tact, caution, and sagacity, which they displayed, was due the substan
tial unanimity of the Congress. There was still another weight upon the
delegation. There existed among the inhabitants of other provinces a
prejudice against New Englanders in general and especially against the

SERVICE IN CONGRESS. 31 I

citizens of Massachusetts. Hawley, a warm friend and admirer of Adams,
writes to the latter warning him against falling into the error attributed to
"the Massachusetts gentlemen, and especially of the town of Boston," of
assuming to dictate and take the lead in continental matters. This report
had been industriously circulated, in advance, by certain tories, in the hope
of injuring the Massachusetts delegation, and marring the harmony of the
Congress.

How little foundation there was for such a charge, in the case of Mr.

o *

Adams, is clearly shown in a letter written by him to his wife, in which hj
bewails his unavoidable absence from Boston during the weeks immediately
preceding the setting out of the delegation. He says: " If I was there
I could converse with the gentlemen who are bound with me to Phil
adelphia. I could turn the course of my reading and studies to such sub
jects of law, and politics, and commerce as may come in play at the Con-.
gress. I might be polishing up my old reading in law and history, that
I might appear with less indecency before a variety of gentlemen, whose
education, travels, experience, family, fortune, and everything, will give
them a vast superiority to me, and, I fear, even to some of my companions."
His own feelings and apprehensions were acutely excited by the situation of
his country and the prospect of the doubtful and important service before
him. His diary is full of passages like the following, expressive of his
hopes and anxieties: "I wander alone and ponder; I muse, I mope, I
ruminate; lam often in reveries and brown studies. The objects before
me are too grand and multifarious for my comprehension. \Yc have not
men fit for the times. \Ye are deficient in genius, in education, in travel, in
fortune, in everything. I feel unutterable anxiety. God grant us wisdom
and fortitude ! Should the opposition be suppressed, should this country
submit, what infamy and ruin! God forbid! Death in any form is less
terrible."

On the loth of August the delegation, less Mr. Bowdoin, who had
asked to be relieved from serving, set out from Boston for Philadelphia.
Their journey was an ovation. Throughout Connecticut the}' were met by
successive delegations and escorted from town to town. At Hartford and
New Haven they were formally entertained. Arrived at New York the
principal citizens vied with each other in extending courtesies. In New Jer
sey there was almost equal cordiality — especially at Princeton. Five miles
from Philadelphia they were met by a committee of citizens and escorted to
their quarters in that town. Much of this interest was, in fact, spontaneous
and sincere, but, aside from such patriotic manifestation, there existed curi
osity, fear, doubt, and distrust. In Connecticut there was less of all this
than in the more southerly provinces. New York was one of the most aris
tocratic of the provinces; the prevailing religion was of the Episcopal form,
and fear of what were termed the "leveling tendencies of New England"

312 JOHN ADAMS.

was generally entertained, and some persons did not hesitate to express as
much to the delegates. The clergy of the dominant church, necessarily in
close sympathy with the home establishment, formed a royalist propaganda,
which had drawn with it many prominent among the laity. Friends in New
Jersey warned the delegates to be discreet in their utterances as they drew
near Philadelphia, and after arriving in that city ; and the committee which
met them without its limits, though ostensibly come merely to extend the
civility of an escort, in fact desired to warn them against any display of
radical sentiment, saying that, by some, they were actually suspected
of a desire to compass the independence of the colonies ! Even Wash
ington was disquieted by this fear, although there was assuredly small
warrant for it at that time. It will be readily seen from all this, that the
mission of the delegates for Massachusetts was one of the greatest delicacy.
Mr. Adams wrote, in one of those invaluable confidential letters to his wife,
"We have a delicate course to steer between too much activity and too
much insensibility in our critical, interested situation. I flatter myself,
however, that we shall conduct our embassy in such manner as to merit the
approbation of our country. It has taken much time to get acquainted with
the tempers, views, characters, and designs of persons, and let them into
the circumstances of our province."

Early in the session of the Congress — before it had committed itself to
a policy, before its members had thrown off their natural timidity and dis
trust, and become sure of their ground — in some way there arose and came
to Philadelphia a false report that Gage had turned his cannon upon the
town of Boston, and had cruelly murdered a large number of its people.
If ever the Lord was served by a lie, it was then. The excitement pro
duced by the report, acted like the agitation of the reagents in a chemist's
test tube, to produce crystallization. Another letter to Mrs. Adams tells of
its effect: "When the horrid news, was brought here of the bombardment
of Boston, which made us completely miserable, for two days, we saw
proofs of the sympathy and the resolution of the continent. War ! war !
war ! was the cry, and it was pronounced in a tone that would have done
honor to the oratory of a Briton or a Roman. If it had proved true, you
would have heard the thunder of an American Congress."

The contradiction, which came later, was not in time to undo the work.
Massachusetts was recognized ; its cause was declared to be that of the
colonies, and the united support of all was pledged. Money was also
promised to sustain the crippled city of Boston, until the common represen
tations of the American provinces should avail to change for the better the
policy of Great Britain. Yet, after all this was done, events moved too
slowly to please the Massachusetts delegates; they were placed in the
difficult position of men vitally interested in a common cause, yet com
pelled by prudence to dissimulate their eagerness " The art and address

SERVICE IN CONGRESS. 313

of ambassadors from a dozen belligerent powers of Europe, " says Adams,
"nay, of a conclave of cardinals at the election of a pope, or of the princes
in Germany, at the choice of an emperor, would not exceed the specimens
we have seen. Yet the Congress all profess the same political principles !
They all profess to consider our province as suffering in a common cause;
and, indeed, they seem to feel for us as if for themselves.
We have had numberless prejudices to remove here. We have been
obliged to act with great delicacy and caution. We have been obliged to
keep ourselves out of sight, and to feel pulses and to sound the depths; to
insinuate our sentiments, designs, and desires, by means of other persons;
sometimes of one province, sometimes of another. "

Such was the care with which this discreet and modest course was
maintained, that the Massachusetts delegation, instead of being regarded as
radicals, — almost as incendiaries, came to be considered, when compared
with the delegates of Virginia, as conservative, almost timid; yet they were
then, as was their colony, later, only less demonstrative, not less brave and
devoted than were their southern brethren. Throughout the Congress,
Massachusetts preferred, and was permitted, to remain in the background.
It seemed that she, as the colony more vitally interested than any other in
the adoption of stringent measures, should be least active in concerting the
policy of the colonies. The delegates from that province, too, instinctively
felt that the surest way to enlist the sympathy and, more important, the
active support of the sister colonies, was to surrender to their representa
tives the leading places in the legislative and committee work of the session.
The most important work of the Congress was the preparation and adop
tion of a bill of rights. To this end was appointed a committee consisting
of nearly half the members, and including both the Adamses from Massachu
setts. John Adams was also a member of the smaller committee appointed
to prepare a petition to the king; but it is chiefly in the drawing of the bill
of rights that his handiwork may be seen. From the inception of the con
test in Massachusetts, when he drew his instructions to the member for
Braintree, he had been constantly laboring to induce his fellow-citizens to
base their arguments upon natural rights, and to deny any authority of
parliament to legislate for the colonies, and any right of the king himself
not literally and strictly included in the compact implied in the charter.
When arose in committee the important question as to how much should be
conceded to Great Britain, he again appeared as the champion of his opin
ion, which all must now be convinced was the only true one. He could not
carry with him even his own delegation entire, yet the resolution finally
adopted was his own, modified to a degree, to meet the views and the
prejudices of other members of the committee. It will well repay quotation
here :

" Resolved, That the foundation of English liberty, and of all free gov-

314 JOHN ADAMS.

eminent, is a right in the people to participate in their legislative council ;
and as the English colonists are not represented, and from their local and
other circumstances, cannot be properly represented in the British parlia
ment, they are entitled to a free and exclusive power of legislation in their
several provincial legislatures, where their right of representation can alone
be preserved, in all cases of taxation and internal polity, subject only to the
negative of their sovereign, in such manner as has been heretofore used and
accustomed. But, from the necessity of the case, and a regard for the mutual
interests of both countries, we cheerfully consent to the operation of such
acts of parliament as are, bona fide, restrained to the regulation of our
external commerce, for the purpose of securing the commercial advantages
of the whole empire to the mother country, and the commercial benefits of
its respective members ; excluding every idea of taxation, internal or exter
nal, for raising a revenue on the subjects in America without their consent."
Even this very moderate declaration was not adopted without much
doubt and some strong opposition. Men asked, as had Hutchinson, years
before : " What is this but independence ?" and so set were they against
the fulfillment of their manifest destiny, that many were prepared to mourn
the hope of the colonies as dead. As the authorship of this famous
declaration of the bill of rights has been the subject of some question, it
may be well to quote the words of Mr. Adams' autobiography, regarding it.
He writes : ''After several days deliberation, we agreed upon all the articles
excepting one, and that was the authority of parliament, which was, indeed,
the essence of the whole controversy ; some were for a flat denial of all
authority ; others for denying the power of taxation only ; some for deny
ing internal, but admitting external, taxation. After a multitude of
motions had been made, discussed, and negatived, it seemed as if we should
never agree upon anything. Mr. John Rutledge, of South Carolina,
addressing himself to me, was pleased to say : ' Adams, we must agree
upon something ; you appear to be as familiar with the subject as any of us,
and I like your expressions, — "the necessity of the case" and " excluding all
taxation, external and internal" ; I have a great opinion of that same idea of
the necessity of the case, and I am determined against all taxation for
revenue. Gome, take the pen, and see if you cannot produce something
that will unite us.' Some others of the committee seconded Mr. Rutledge;
I took a sheet of paper and drew up an article. When it was read, I
believe not one of the committee was fully satisfied with it ; but they all
soon acknowledged that there was no hope of hitting on anything, in which
we could agree with more satisfaction." All therefore agreed to this, and
upon this depended the union of the colonies. The sub-committee reported
their draught to the grand committee, and another long debate ensued,-
especially on this article ; various changes and modifications in it were

SERVICE IN CONGRESS. 315

attempted, but none accepted, and the draught was reported to Congress,
and, after a second debate, was adopted and promulgated.

But one other act of grave importance was passed by the first Con
gress ; — that the adoption of the non-importation, non-exportation, and
non-consumption agreement, a measure which was based upon the false
assumption that the loss of American trade meant bankruptcy for Great
Britain. As this assumption was a false one, little practical good arose
from the enforcement of the resolution, and its highest result was the bring
ing of the colonies into a closer confederation, by an act of common and
serious self-denial. The agreement received the support of Adams, but he
was never over-sanguine as to its efficiency. The refusal of Great Britain
to make any concessions ; her contrary course in increasing the stringency
of her measures, are matters of history, and do not call for discussion.

The Congress had been important to Adams, as a matter of education.
He was tacitly admitted the leader of the Massachusetts delegation ; the
interests of Massachusetts overshadowed, in importance, those of any other
colony; hence his was a position of prominence, and he found himself, from
the outset, wielding a considerable influence in the deliberations of the
national legislature. Instituted to consult, the Congress was much less
significant in expression than in action, the evenly-balanced and penetrat
ing mind of the future diplomat and President, could not escape recog
nition, and the self-development and confidence which the obvious esteem
of others always produce. Then, too, there was the social experience
gained by life in Philadelphia, then the gayest and most polite of American
cities. Daily calls and dinners, constant contact with all that was polished,
wise, and witty in the civil and political life of America, did wonders in
making this man of mind and ideas, as well a man of the world.

The Congress adjourned on the 26th day of October, 1/74, and on Fri
day, the 2cSth, Mr. Adams, with the other delegates for Massachusetts, set
out for home, arriving on the 9th of November. Scarcely was he once
more domesticated before he was again called into public life, by a resolution
of the provincial congress requesting his attendance upon its deliberations.
This was followed by a regular election to membership in that body, which
continued until its dissolution. On the I2th of December appeared, in a
Boston journal, an able paper in defense of the royal prerogative, which
caused much comment and filled the adherents of the crown with delight.
Who the writer was, no one in the patriot councils ever certainly ascer
tained. The papers were published over the signature " Massacliuscttt •;/ sis,' '
and were commonly supposed to be the joint production of Daniel Leonard
and Jonathan Scwall, both old friends of Adams, and very uncommon men.
Believing that much harm might result from these heresies, should they
remain unanswered, Adams entered the lists and, throughout the winter,
bore his part, over the name " Novanglus" in a very close and interesting

31(5 JOHN ADAMS.

newspaper controversy, which only ended on the igth of April, 1775.
The last paper \vas prevented from appearing by the beginning of hos
tilities. Mr. Adams' articles afford a. better view of the legal and consti
tutional grounds of the Revolution, as viewed from a standpoint within his
own colony, than does any other literature of the day. Lacking in polish
and elegance of diction and construction, they are close, well considered,
masterly analyses of the issues, and form the best possible rough material
for the philosophical historian.

In the affairs at Concord and Lexington Adams saw the passage of the
Rubicon ; he saw that there was now only the chance of a successful armed
resistance, disgraceful subjugation, or death. He rode over the field, met
General Ward, the gallant commander of the mushroom army of the col
onies, and returning, was attacked with a fever, but so big with events was
the time, that he would not permit even sickness to restrain him, and
set out for Philadelphia, to attend the second Congress, which was to meet
May 5th, and, although the journey was to the last degree painful, over
took the remainder of the delegation, and reached his destination on the
loth day of May.

The salient feature of this Congress was the proposal, discussion, and
adoption of the Declaration of Independence ; its most important legislation
that relating to the organization, equipment, and maintenance of an army.*
Adams was a warm advocate of the declaration, and, when the question of
naming a commander in chief for the army threatened to arouse sectional
jealousy, he, the leading New Englander, poured oil upon the waters by
arising in his place and moving the selection of George Washington, the
foremost Virginian, for that post. Soon after the opening of Congress,
Adams wrote, in a letter to his wife, that the Congress had business to keep
it through the year; "no assembly ever had a greater number of great
objects before them. Provinces, nations, empires are small things before
us. I wish we \vere good architects. " Still another " dutiful and humble
petition" was prepared and sent to the king, against the judgment and
protest of Adams. The colonies held the olive branch in the left, a flam
ing sword in the right hand. Bunker Hill settled all doubt once for all.
From that time, war, long a certainty to Adams' view, was as obviously
so to all. Before this Washington was appointed commander in chief, and
on that fateful I7th of June Adams wrote his wife: "I can now inform
you that the Congress have made choice of the modest and virtuous, the
amiable, generous, and brave George Washington, Esquire, to be general
of the American army, and that he is to repair, as soon as possible, to the
camp before Boston. This appointment will have a great effect in cement
ing and securing the union of these colonies. The continent is really in
earnest in defending the colonies. . . . . I begin to hope we shalJ

*See Biographies of Washington and Jefferson.

SERVICE IN CONGRESS.

317

not sit all summer. I hope the people of our province will treat the general
with all that confidence and affection, that politeness and respect which is
due to one of the most important characters in the world. The liberties oi
America depend upon him in a great degree."

Already there were two parties in Congress ; the majority, with Dickin
son and Hancock as leaders, moderate, conservative, and slow ; the minority,
of whom the Virginia Lees and the Massachusetts Adamses were most
prominent, bent upon active measures which assumed the feud between the
king and the colonies to be irreconcilable. Adams could ill brook the dila
tory policy of the former, at such a surpassingly important crisis. He wrote
freely to his wife and to General Warren, criticising, in no very measured
terms, the course of Dickinson and Hancock ; these letters were sent by
private hands, but reached General Gage, were published in Boston, the
originals were sent to England and printed copies eventually came to
Philadelphia. Their effect in England was to mark Adams a.c an arch-
traitor; to convince the ministry that there existed in Massachusetts a
deep-seated and long-standing determination to rebel ; to procure for Penn,
who bore the latest memorial of Congress, the sternest rebuff. In Phila
delphia, Adams was avoided on the street, and regarded as one of thos'3
incendiaries who favored independence; hence as a traitor! There exists
in history no greater paradox than the position of this majority, in condemn
ing for treason those whose views savored of independence, while main
taining an organized army for resistance of royal authority.

In the month of August, Congress adjourned for a recess, — a measure
which Adams opposed, and he returned to Boston, and spent a busy month
in consultation with committees, and with individuals, including the com
mander in chief. The middle of September found him once more at Philr-
delphia, engrossed in renewed labor, and suffering to the full the conse
quences of the publication of his intercepted letters. His name was omitted
from the committees, and Massachusetts was neglected, as a colon}' c\
advanced and dangerous ideas. To this trouble was added sad anxiety con
cerning his family, by reason of a malignant and fatal epidemic, which ha'l
broken out about Boston. The mother of his wife and a female servant,—
an inmate of his household,— died in close succession, and nearly eveiv
member of his family was dangerously ill.

Soon public opinion, in and out of the Congress, began to change:
many embraced, more looked indulgently upon the opinions of Mr. Adams:
he was appointed upon a committee to carry out his own measure for thr
organization of a navy, which hastened its deliberations and soon provided
for securing the nucleus of a sea armament. The most important measure
came from Rhode Island, and resulted in Congress advising the colonies
to establish governments adequate to the maintenance of order and the
administration of affairs, "during the continuance of the present difficulty."

3l8 JOHN ADAMS.

This Adams fathered and actively supported. These measures would very
probably have been defeated but for the arrival of news of the king's refusal
to receive and consider the memorial of Congress, sent by the hands o]
Perm. The ships of the patriots were indeed burned behind them, and only
a steady and determined advance could save the colonies from hopeless
subjugation.

During the autumn of 1775, the colony of Massachusetts, which had
been long without the protection of organized courts, appointed Mr. Adams
chief justice, advancing him over many of his seniors, both of the bencr
and bar. After much consideration he determined to accept the post, anc
so soon as an adjournment of Congress should render it possible, to assum<
its duties. He sent formal notice of his determination, and, as the autumr
advanced, and there seemed no prospect for an adjournment, decided that
both for the sake of the interest of his province and that of the confedera
tion, it was desirable that he consult with the prominent men of Massa
chusetts in person. Hence he concluded, for a time, to desert his seat ir
the Congress and return home. Arrived, he found that he had been choser
a member of the council, and shortly assumed his place in that body. Th<
council was divided between its desire to secure to the court the benefit o
his wisdom, and to retain his services in Congress. This conflict of inclina
tion was at last settled by arranging that the court should proceed withou
him, so long as his service seemed necessary to the confederacy ; tha
during the intervals of such service, and continuously when it should b<
ended, he should perform his judicial duties. It is well to here state tha
he never found the opportunity to take his seat upon the bench.

During the time of his stay in Massachusetts, Adams was constantl)
called upon for counsel in most weighty affairs. He drew with his own hanc
the proclamation which inaugurated the new provisional government ; gave
his private advice to Washington in several momentous matters, and sat ir
one council of war. Finally, the general council unanimously chose him tc
represent the province during the remainder of the Congress, thus ratify
ing the arrangement by which his assumption of the judicial robes hac
been postponed. The new election was accompanied by a formal letter o
instructions, in which the delegates were directed to use their efforts tc
"establish liberty on a permanent basis in America." Adams, arrived ir
Philadelphia on the pth of February, 1776, found the Congress sadly lacking
in that spirit which had dictated the instructions of Massachusetts. Partic
ularly were the delegates of New York and the other Middle states depressec
by the failure of pacific measures, and alarmed at the irresistible tendency o
events toward independence and war.

The chief business of the Congress during the remainder of the sessior
related to the Declaration of Independence, and the many and delicate steps
which led up to it. Scanty details remain of all these processes, but cer-

SERVICE IX CONGRESS.

319

tain it is that the seeking of foreign alliances was one of the earliest, and
that this involved the sending of ambassadors to various foreign powers.
Adams' main effort seems to have related to the establishment of such
foreign relations as should best contribute to the success of America in the
war. So early as the fall of 1775, he had concerted with Mr. Chase, of
Maryland, and the latter had presented, a resolution providing for the
appointment of envoys to certain European powers, for the negotiation of
treaties. The exact scope of this proposed measure is unknown. We only
know that it was, to use his own expressive language, " murdered," when
put upon its passage. A tendency exhibited itself to secure an alliance
with France, by the bribe of the exclusive trade of America and large grants
of territory. Mr. Patrick Henry was advocate of this policy, and Mr.
Adams one of its strongest opponents, seeing little gain in a mere change
of masters, especially as the right of the new one would depend directly
upon a grant made for good consideration. The session resulted in no more
decisive steps than the appointment of a committee to correspond with
friends of America in Kngland, Ireland, and other parts of the world. The
important part of this resolution was, as Mr. Charles Francis Adams very
justly observes, like that of a lady's letter, — in the postscript.

Already during the latter portion of the year 1775, Adams had been
often in council with the Lees, Henry, and \Vythe, as to the framing of
a form of government for Virginia. Fspecial clanger to popular govern
ment, in America, existed in the aristocratic ideas of that colony. It was
proposed to establish a senate, the members of which should hold office
for life, and there was there, even more than in New York, a dread of the
"leveling tendencies of New Kngland." The men with whom Adams
was intimate, represented the cause of popular government in Virginia,
and the burthen of the advice sought by them, was as to means of foiling
this aristocratic propaganda in that colon}'. Being requested to reduce his
ideas to writing, .Adams did so, embodying them in a letter to Lee,
which was passed from hand to hand in Virginia, copied, and had much
effect in modifying the views of the conservative wing of the part}', and
winning the majority, by which a popular government was at last secured.
A copy of the letter found its way to Kngland, and into the hands of the
ministry, where it strengthened the idea that America was hopelessly rebel
lious, and that Adams was an arch traitor.

The letter to Lee was later supplemented by one more elaborate to
Wythe, which was published and widely circulated, and similar ones were
sent to representative men in other southern colonies. Thus, Adams had
a very considerable influence in determining the course of at least two
colonies, Virginia and North Carolina, and the constitution adopted by the
latter, surviving until 1836, was the longest lived of any framed during the
Revolution. Now came the direct agitation of the independence of the

32O JOHN ADAMS.

United States, and the days from February to July were the busiest of
Adams' life. He was an active pioneer in clearing away the obstructions,
prepared to defeat the great advance. He served, spoke, thought, and wrote
every day, and many a night, to secure the instruction of delegations in
accordance with his views, or at least, the submission of the matter to the
discretion of delegates. In the concerting of the measures which led to the
proposal of the grand declaration, he was prominently concerned ; in the
debates which followed, he was active and effective ; in the delicate and dif
ficult labor of influencing doubtful and reluctant delegations, during the
interval allowed for discussion and consideration, he was assiduous, and no
one was more delighted than he at the final triumph of the measure, which
he deemed the only salvation of his country. He served on the committee,
headed by Jefferson, which drew the declaration, was appointed on that
named to negotiate treaties with foreign powers, and later ones for framing
a plan for a war office ; to devise a policy as to persons giving aid or
information to the enemy, and was, from time to time during the session, a
member of ninety committees, and at the head of no less than twenty-five.

When Admiral Lord Howe and General Sir William Howe sent their
famous message to Congress, representing themselves as commissioners to
arrange an accommodation of differences, they sent notice, as will be
remembered, of a desire to meet certain members of the Congress, not
officially, but as prominent citizens of the colonies, saying, at the same
time, that, should they come to any accommodation with them, the ratifica
tion of Congress would be deemed sufficient. A committee was appointed
to this end, charged, also, with the duty of inquiring into the state of the
army in New York, and, upon this, Adams reluctantly consented to serve.
The abortive result of Howe's mission, has already been stated ; the second
duty of the committee was important to Adams as bringing him into closer
relations and familiarity with the army and its commander in chief, which,
as he was president of the board of war, was peculiarly desirable.

In the meantime the erection of a well considered and consistent foreign
policy was occupying much of the attention of the best thinkers. The secret
committee of correspondence, the appointment of which has been men
tioned in these pages, had gone no further than to appoint Silas Deane as a
secret agent of the United States, to go, first to the French West Indies,
later to France, to solicit aid from individuals, and to sound the govern
ment as to its inclinations. The committee upon foreign relations, appointed
about the time of the Declaration of Independence, found very serious
duties. From the chaos of errors, doubt and conflict, it was to devise a
system, and at least two of its members — Adams and Franklin — felt the
overwhelming importance of securing, at a cost of no concession which
should afterward prove damaging and burthensome, alliance with foreign
powers sufficient to carry the colonies to the establishment of their ends by

SERVICE IN CONGRESS. 321

the mere moral force of recognition. Adams had, early in his congressional
service, avowed his unalterable aversion to foreign alliances or complications
beyond those purely commercial. Previous to Lord Howe's mission, in
conjunction with Franklin, he proposed a scheme for alliances in Europe,
going no further than this. Upon submission to Congress, many members
feared that the powers proposed would not enable envoys to tempt any
first-class power into a treaty and amendments were offered, considerably
extending the provisions recommended in the original report. These were
supplemented, during Adams' absence at the conference of Lord Howe
and at Washington's headquarters, by a resolution empowering the com
mittee to propose additional instructions for the envoy, and these instruc
tions were adopted during his absence and without his participation. They
were framed under what was deemed to be an immediate necessity for aid,
and opened the way for evils which bore fruit during the second adminis
tration of Washington, and that of Adams, in misunderstandings with that
Republican France, which succeeded to the rights of Louis XVI. , as does
the highwayman to the watch of his victim, and so nearly resulted in war.
One further collateral matter must be mentioned, that future events
may be understood. Shortly before this time, Dr. Arthur Lee, an ardent
American patriot resident in London, had unwisely written Dr. Franklin a
letter (cloaked in the pretence of being an anonymous communication with
the loyalist lieutenant-governor, Colden), in which it was intimated that two
members of the secret committee, Jay and Dickinson, were secretly in sym
pathy with Great Britain, and that the safety and well-being of America
demanded that they be replaced by such men as the Adamses. Though
this letter was sent by Dr. Lee under injunctions that it be shown to no one
but Richard Henry Lee, his brother, its contents leaked out, and showed a
decided effect upon the action of Congress in naming a commission to treat
with France, besides later resulting in serious disagreements between Frank
lin and Lee.

Congress, in balloting for members of this commission, chose first
Franklin, then Jefferson ; Jefferson declining, Dr. Lee was substituted, and
Adams was urged to take the third place. This he refused to do, and Silas
Deane, of Connecticut, was named. It is worthy of notice that the last-
mentioned is Uie only one of all the diplomatic appointments of the new
and inexperienced Congress, of an untried, and unrecognized government,
which proved unfortunate. His head was turned by scheming agents of the
French government, by sycophants, and adventurers, and he first made a
series of unwise, unauthorized, and embarrassing contracts with foreign
military adventurers, of which class Con way is an example, and ended
by playing flatterer to Franklin, against which influence "Poor Richard"
was by no means proof, and, misrepresenting Lee, until the jealousy excited
resulted in enmity, and well nigh wrecked the commission.

322 JOHN ADAMS.

The remainder of Adams' career in Congress cannot be minutely treated
without re-writing the history of the war of the Revolution, embodied in the
biography of Washington. It was the era of the direct conduct of the war
by Congress, through a board of war, appointed from its own member
ship. Adams, as president of this board, was constantly immersed in military
affairs. He did himself as much justice as could be expected from the
wisest agent of so pernicious a military system. He was not a soldier, in
theory or practice, and was inclined to be unduly elated by victories and
depressed by defeats. One might almost judge of the fortune of the war
by the tone of his letters, even when the subject is not mentioned. Some
times he narrowly escaped being ridiculous, as when he wrote his friend
Warren that he had expected two or three Bunker hills, between Long
island and Trenton. Knowing what he did of the opposing armies, such a
statement is either a deliberate extravagance, or an indication of bad
judgment.

Nevertheless, Adams did very valuable service in the board of war.
He labored hard to induce the colonies, particularly his own, to do their
duty. He had a sensitive pride in Massachusetts, and desired, above all
things, that she do herself credit. He was stung by the bad behavior of
the New England troops, upon the occasion of Howe's attack on New York,
and his very pride led him bitterly to demand, "Are there no cowards
south of New England?" Probably no other man in the Congress so con
stantly and effectively exerted himself for the securing and maintenance of
an efficiently organized army, as did he. It is strange that, having so much
experience with the tardiness and evasion of various colonies, he never saw
the fatal weakness of the plan of confederation, involved in the absence of
a competent central authority, but certain it is that, when the scheme came
before Congress, and was pushed to adoption, it was done very largely
through his instrumentality.

With a bare summary, this overlong chapter must close. On the 1st
day of October, 1776, Adams introduced a resolution for the establishment
of a naval academy. This plan, as afterward elaborated by Hamilton, and ap
proved by Washington, was carried into effect, during his own administration.
On the 1 3th of the same month he obtained leave of absence to return to
his home, where he was called by pressing family and business matters. He
there remained until the gih of January, when he set out for Baltimore,
which was the temporary seat of government, arriving in that place on the
ist of February. During his stay at home he discovered that the courts of
the state were moving smoothly, and to the satisfaction of the people ; the
judges were honest and able, and, not caring longer to pose as the holder of
a sinecure, he resigned the judgeship which he had accepted during the pre
vious year. After his arrival at Philadelphia, he settled once more to his
hard work upon the board of war, and numerous committees. He was, as

SERVICE IN CONGRESS. 32}

always, sagacious, wise, and indefatigable. The question of the confedera
tion coming up, he gave it his utmost influence and support, and pushed it
to an adoption. Then came the victory over Burgoyne, the relinquishment
of Clinton's campaign against the North, and the end of the war in that
quarter.

Adams now resolved to leave Congress, for a time, if not permanently.
He had embarked in the service of his country, to the infinite detriment of
his private interests, with a determination to do his utmost for the accom
plishment of two results — the independence, and the confederation of the
colonies. The latter had been effected ; the former was declared, and he,
in common with many others, overestimating the immediate influence of the
defeat of Burgoyne, considered its establishment to be near at hand. His
family had been long alone, his business had, of course, ceased with
his absence, and he, a poor man, could ill afford its total loss. Hence
he sent in his resignation upon the Qth day of November, 1777, and set out
for home, little thinking that the decisive battle of the war was yet nearly
four years distant, and that the most important of his public service was
before him, instead of being already passed.

324 JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE TWO MISSIONS TO FRANCE.

CARCELY had Adams set out upon his homeward way, rejoicing in
his newly acquired freedom, when arose in Congress the emergency
which was to compel its relinquishment. The many contracts made by
Silas Deane had brought to America a number of soldiers of fortune of
more or less ability and character, holding that erratic diplomat's promises
of rank and pay, and so annoyed was Congress by the complications result
ing, that Mr. Deane's recall was sounded, and Mr. Adams was, without his
knowledge, made a candidate for the post, and chosen against Robert
Livingston. The message announcing this fact followed him closely, and
was accompanied by most urgent letters from many friends, urging the
infirmity of Franklin, the surpassing importance of having one discreet
and honest man in France, and the vital necessity of closing an alliance
upon favorable grounds, as reasons why he should accept the place. These
considerations, added to the pleasant prospect of being able to apply his
principles regarding foreign affairs, induced Adams to abandon the law
practice, which he had resumed, and again assume the galling cares of office.
He sailed from Boston February 13, 1778, accompanied by his eldest son,
John Quincy Adams, a lad of ten years ; his vessel out-ran a British
cruiser, fought and captured a British privateer, and weathered a storm.
Upon landing, he was received with honors, and proceeded to Paris, where
he arrived April 8, 1778.

The news which met him was, to his view, far from encouraging. A
treaty had been closed during the preceding February, which purchased
America the assistance of France, but at the cost of an alliance, offensive
and defensive, and a guaranty to France of territorial integrity in America.
Adams, even admitting the inadequacy of a purely commercial treaty to
accomplish the results gained by this, could not but fear that complications
might result quite uncontemplated by its framers. The events of twenty
years later quite justified this fear.

THE TWO MISSIONS TO FRANCE. 325

The nature of the treaty was not, however, his only or most imme
diate cause of disquiet. The relation of the American envoys in France
was such as to bring discredit upon the United States. Deane, with his
surrounding of toadies, had become dissatisfied with the conduct of Dr.
Arthur Lee and his brother, William Lee, both of whom thoroughly dis
trusted and cordially disliked the weak-headed Connecticut envoy. Deane
had worked upon the vanity and prejudices of Franklin and the natural
suspicions of the Count de Vergennes, until he had won them both to hi?
opinion, and the Count actually requested that Lee, an envoy duly accred
ited by the United States, be kept in ignorance of transactions in which his
colleague and the American minister plenipotentiary took part! It will
readily be conceived that Adams was most uncomfortably placed. He had
a very high respect for Franklin, a sincere regard for the Lees, and knew
at that time no reason why he should not respect the character, if not the
wisdom, of Deane. He determined, then, to maintain his neutrality, and,
at the same time, to use his influence, so far as possible, for the restoration
of harmony among his colleagues. In the latter he was not successful, but
his own attitude, and his effort for the pacification of his warring country
men, met the approval and the public commendation of the Count de Ver
gennes.

It was, from the first, evident to Adams that the settlement of treaty
terms had anticipated his mission, and that his usefulness in Europe was
more than questionable. lie, however, possessed his soul in patience for a
time, awaiting an answer to his request for instructions. Pending this he
devoted himself to systematizing the business of the consular service,
reducing its records to order, and conducting an extensive correspondence
with various prominent men in private and official life, with a view to per
fecting himself in knowledge of European affairs. The result of his obser
vation was reduced to writing, and published after his return to America.
Inactivity was foreign to Adams' character, and, after chafing under the
necessity of a comparatively idle life for some time, he at last determined,
against the advice of Franklin, to act for himself, since he seemed forgot
ten by Congress, and embarked, on the ijth of June, 1779, in a French
frigate, which reached Boston August 2cl. He felt very much dissatis
fied with the results of his long foreign stay, which were represented, to
his mind, only by the division of the strictly diplomatic from the com
mercial service abroad, the transfer of Arthur Lee as minister to Madrid,
and the appointment of an American consul general to France. There had
been some reason for the failure of Congress to pay proper attention to his
request for instructions, for that body had been sufficiently harassed in the
effort to pay an army from an empty treasury ; to increase it, with a pros
trate credit ; to settle the quarrels of the diplomats and the complications

326 JOHN ADAMS.

arising at home, by reason of the Conway cabal. Adams forwarded his
report and once more sought his home.

Again his native province claimed his service, and he was elected rep-
resentative for Braintree, in the general assembly of Massachusetts. That
colony had been making shift, since the outbreak of hostilities, to live under
a provisional government, and had procured no substitute for the charter
granted by William and Mary at the institution of the province. It was
the office of the newly elected legislature to frame a new constitution, and
there existed so decided differences, throughout the province, as to endanger
the harmony of the session. One party, headed by Bowdoin, demanded a
recognition of property as a basis of representation ; the other, headed by
Samuel Adams, was extremely democratic. John Adams was not coir,
mitted to either party, and favored a middle course. He succeeded in
obtaining a resolution of the assembly, declaring in favor of a republican
government, administered by,officers chosen by the people. A committee
of thirty-two members was then appointed, to make and prepare a draft of
a constitution ; this committee appointed a smaller one, and the latter
placed the whole matter in the hands of Mr. Adams. He drew a constitu
tion which harmonized the parties, receiving the hearty support of each,
and placed the machinery of the province, for the first time, in running
order. In the meantime Congress was striving for the solution of the vexa
tious questions relating to the foreign diplomacy of the United States, and
a resolution was drawn, intended to cut the gordian knot, by revoking the
commissions of all ministers and envoys. Adams having come home upon
his own motion, still held a commission, and was necessarily included within
the operation of the act. As the resolution named the officers categori
cally, it was moved by his friends that each name be voted upon sepa
rately, and the result was the exception of Franklin and Adams from its
operation.

Pending the discussion, arrived M. Gerrard, accredited by Versailles to
the United States. One of his first official acts was to propose the med
iation of Spain between Great Britain and the United States. This pro
posal was eagerly considered by Congress, the discussion being defined only
by a desire that any treaty made should guarantee to America : First, inde
pendence. Second, a just settlement of boundaries. Third, the protection
of the fisheries. Fourth, the free navigation of the Mississippi. The French
ambassador desired nothing so much as to free the negotiation from any
other condition than that of the independence. He set himself very skillfully
to work to procure the removal of these restrictions, one of which, — that re
garding the Mississippi, — was particularly distasteful both to France and
Spain. This first gave way, and, later, he obtained the withdrawal also of the
condition as to the fisheries, but only with the understanding that America
should be at liberty .o attempt an independent negotiation with Grea*

THE TWO MISSIONS TO FRANCE.

327

Britain. These important steps — the most important since the declaration
of independence, — rendered necessary, first, the filling of the vacant minis
terial post at Madrid, by a very able man, and, second, the appointment of
one, if possible, more able, as envoy extraordinary to negotiate directly with
Great Britain. Both Adams and Jay were urged for the latter place, but
New England would not consider the name of Jay, for the reason of his
real or imaginary lukewarmness in the matter of the fisheries, and, hence,
Adams received the appointment to that post, while Jay was accredited to
the court of Spain. Adams' commissions, empowering him to negotiate
distinct treaties of peace and commerce, bore date October 20, I//9, and,
on the i 3th of November, of the same year, again accompanied by his son,
John Ouincy Adams, he set sail, and, duly arriving in Paris, presented his
credentials.

It \\as, of course, necessary for him to establish himself in friendly
territory and watch his opportunity to open communication with Great
Britain. The vexations and delays which attended his vain effort can not
be minutely related here. It was no part of the plan of the crafty Count
de Vergennes to permit of the negotiation of a peace to which France
should not be directly or indirectly a part}', to her own profit. Hence, he
threw constant obstacles in the way of the envoy, all covered by a mask of
polite solicitude.

It is well to state before entering upon the brief relation of the circum
stances attending Mr. Adams' mission, that documentary evidence exists in
great abundance to prove that France, though her "disinterested succor" of
the United States has been made the toast at so many banquets for this
century and more, was, in fact, not in the slightest degree disinterested.
She would not have ended the war a year sooner than 1781, could it have
been done with honor and success. She had her private reasons for desir
ing to withdraw troops from Furope, at that particular time, and, beyond
this fact, had no other interest in the conflict than that which arose from
the double willingness to cripple her natural enemy and to open the way for
possible gain to herself. Adams estimated rightly, when he held that the
faith of France could be relied upon just so far as her interests and those of
America coincided — beyond that, not at all.

Vergennes saw in Adams' embassy the possibility of purchasing a peace
by offering exclusive trade to Knglancl, and thus leaving France out of the
affair; he distrusted the Lees, and, knowing Adams to be their friend, dis
trusted him as well, and, when applied to to open a way for notifying Fng-
land of the mission, refused to grant it, and set every means at work to
procure a reconsideration of .America's determination. In the meantime,
Adams was courteously received as one empowered to assist in an}- negotia
tions for peace, which might be opened through other channels. Though
thus practically without a mission, Adams did not waste time, but began

328 JOHN ADAMS.

a series of communications to the press, intended to dispel the preva
lent ignorance on the subject of the situation and resources of America.
He also bent his efforts in conversation with the most intelligent people in
the French capital, to the same end, and soon received an intimation from
Vergennes, that the latter would be glad to receive any information he
might have to convey. Taking this to be quite as much a direction as a
request, he sent the minister newspapers and extracts from letters, which
were acknowledged, with a request for more. Among the matter later
sent, was a portion of a letter from Adams' brother-in-law, in which he
referred to a proposal of Congress to redeem the emissions of continental
currency, by the payment of one dollar in silver for forty in paper. This
was made clear by a subsequent letter dispatched by Adams to the min
ister, explaining the difference between the domestic currency referred
to, and loan certificates, many of which were held by French creditors
of the United States. Before the receipt of this second letter, Ver
gennes, in great excitement, called upon Adams, upon whom he had
no official claim, to use his efforts for the prevention of such partial repu
diation. Adams could not well keep silence, thus apparently confirming
Vergennes' erroneous impression, and hence replied with a full explana
tion. The minister, probably finding himself in error, was irritated, and
denounced the communication and the former transmissions of intelligence
as gratuitous and impertinent, as if they had been voluntary and not
expressly requested by himself. He avowed a design to communicate to
Congress, through the minister of France, his objection to the proposed
measure, and, when Adams procured Franklin to suggest a delay of such
action until the matter could be more fully discussed, repelled this suggestion
and criticised Adams, — as he did later to Congress, — for interfering in the
affair. Franklin was probably a little piqued at Adams' course, for he
went out of his way to say that he was not responsible for the latter's action,
and, when he drew a report to Congress, made no effort to set him right.
Congress, however, did not regard Adams' action as worthy of condemna
tion, but, on the contrary, passed a resolution expressing its approval and
thanks. In spite of all these facts, well recognized at the time, there has
been a tendency to charge him with having gratuitously provoked a contest
with the French minister.

Once more Adams proposed to Vergennes the opening of communica
tion with England, urging the existence of a popular discontent in that coun
try, which, in the event of a failure to properly consider his proposals, might
well result in overturning the ministry of Lord North ; again he met a
rebuff, accompanied by a threat to appeal to Congress, should he persist in
endeavoring to carry the plan into effect. He asked permission to go to
Holland, desiring to open certain financial negotiations in that country.
This, too, was refused. The menace of Vergennes was uncalled for, ill-timed,

THE TWO MISSIONS TO FRANCE.

329

and directed at a man so secure in the sense of his own integrity, that he
was not to be in any manner intimidated. It drew from him a manly, full,
and convincing statement of the condition of affairs in America, upon which
was predicated the statement that his countrymen would scarcely forgive a
failure to embrace any opportunity for an honorable peace, consistent with
treaty obligations. Vergennes found, to his surprise, that he had encoun
tered a man who would not be subservient, even to the representative of the
crown of France. France was, at that time, more than inclined to favor
u long truce, rather than the recognition of independence, as the basis of
negotiation between England and America. Franklin had countenanced
the idea, and the French alliance for a time bade fair to defeat, rather than
to forward, its original purpose.

Having at last obtained a modification of Vergennes' orders, Mr.
Adams, on the 2/th of July, left Paris for the Hague. His prime object in
this journey was to obtain materials which should permit of his forming a
judgment as to the probability of obtaining an American loan from the
Dutch. His first impression was very favorable. The principal obstacle
seemed to lie in the perverted ideas regarding America, which the friends of
England had instilled into the minds of the Dutch. To counteract this,
Mr. Adams made his usual free use of the journals of the da}', and also
took every occasion to disseminate in private, such facts as would tend to
forward his wishes. As the result of his representations, he was formally
empowered by Congress to effect a loan in Holland.

Mr. Laurens had been appointed, by Congress, minister to Holland,
and had set sail for Amsterdam. At this critical moment of Mr. Adams'
negotiation, when the bankers seemed favorably interested in America, came
news that Laurens had been captured by a British cruiser, and with him a
draft of a proposed treat}' between the United States and Holland, which
seriously compromised the latter with Great Britain. A panic at once
seized the merchants and bankers, and negotiations were, for the time,
brought to a stand-still.

On the 1st day of January, 1781, came a commission to Adams, as
plenipotentiary to Holland. No sooner was this received than he began
to labor for recognition. The arrogant action of England toward Hol
land, had left only the choice between resistance and abject surrender.
The Dutch were not prepared for the latter, and the eagerness of England
to find cause for quarrel, indirectly served the ends of America.
stadtholder and the court were known to be inclined to the English view of
the subject, but the people were strongly tinctured with the spirit of liberty,
and among them Mr. Adams found his best friends. In the midst of this
negotiation, and before it had been prosecuted to a result, there came to
Adams a message from the Count de Vergennes, requesting his presence in
France, in his capacity of commissioner for the negotiation of a peace.

33O JOHN ADAMS.

This was accompanied by no explanation of the attitude of affairs, and the
American envoy had been studiously kept ignorant of the progress of the
negotiation. Nevertheless he set out, and arrived in Paris on the 6th day of
July, 1781.

The immediate reason for summoning Adams to Paris, was the neces
sity of considering a proposal of accommodation, made by Russia and
Austria, and forwarded to the respective ministers of those powers at Paris,
London, and Madrid. The proposal provided for a wholly separate nego
tiation between Great Britain and the United States, without the interven
tion of France, or of mediators, unless such should be requested ; no
treaty was, however, to be executed or signed, except simultaneously with a
peace between the belligerents for whom the mediation was proposed. The
fourth article provided, in the event of the acceptance of this proposal by all
parties, the belligerents should call upon the mediating powers to open the
congress, and should at once commission representatives to attend it. This
fourth and last article, which involved the standing of the United States in
the negotiation, was kept secret from Mr. Adams, — the Count de Ver-
gennes fearing that the American envoy might demand so much for his
country, and for himself in his representative capacity, as to defeat his own
plan of reducing America to the ignominious position of holding a seat in
the congress, without a vote, thus juggling with her interests and leaving
her powerless to act.

It is not necessary to go into particulars regarding this effort at media
tion, for the reason that it failed — principally because of the obstinacy of
England's doting old king, who could not brook an interference of France
between Great Britain and her colonies. Even had this stubborn resistance
failed of wrecking the project, it would have been gravely imperiled by the
fact that America, in spite of Franklin's leaning, would assuredly have
insisted upon independence, absolute and unqualified, as its ultimatum,
'refusing to accept the prolonged truce proposed by Spain, and would have
withdrawn unconditionally from the negotiation, unless regarded as a bellig
erent power, rather than an insurgent praying succor from Europe. While
the proposals of Russia and Austria were pending, Adams wrote Vergennes
in no uncertain tone, foreshadowing this policy, and evoked an angry
answer from that minister, in which it was stated that preliminaries were to
be arranged before the United States could be fully recognized, and which
closed with something very like a threat that Adams should lose his place,
did he insist upon making such demands. The letter was addressed and
franked by Vergennes, in his own hand, to Adams, as agent of the United
States of North America. In spite of this pointed rebuff, Adams supple
mented his letter to Vergennes with two others, in which he respectfully and
clearly reiterated his arguments for the recognition of America in the con
gress, and to such effect that the minister, without previously consulting

THE TWO MISSIONS TO FRANCE. 33!

him, intimated to the mediating powers, that the recognition of the United
States in the negotiation would be a necessary condition precedent to the
acceptance by France of the proposal for intervention. The negotiation
lingered through January, 1/82, when it died by the act of England.

Long before this final closing of the negotiation, Adams, despairing of
its effect, had returned to Holland, and resumed his independent labors for
recognition. He had scarcely reached Amsterdam, when he learned that
the representations of Vergennes had resulted in the revocation of his com
mission to negotiate a treaty of commerce with England, but he had so
long regarded that matter as practically ended, that the revocation gave him
little uneasiness. He also received word that the peace commission had
been enlarged by the addition of Dr. Franklin, Mr. Jay, Mr. Laurens, and
Mr. Jefferson. The association with himself of so many able and repre
sentative men, gave him great satisfaction. The Congress, which was much
lowered in tone and spirit, had, however, done other acts in connection with
the commission, which, had he then known, would have caused him serious
anxiety and annoyance. The first of these was the retreat from every con
dition precedent to the peace, save that of independence; the second — and
this is the most ignominious act in the history of America — to direct its
commissioners, "ultimately to govern themselves by the advice and opin
ion of the French minister."

In the meantime, Adams' distrust of Vergennes was increased by dis
covering that his own negotiations in Holland, those of Jay at Madrid, and
of Dana at St. Petersburg, not only did not receive the assistance of France,
but were covertly opposed. Hence he concluded to wait no longer upon
the action of Vergennes, but to throw his whole personal reputation, and
the success of his effort, upon a single cast. Several circumstances united
to favor his effort. lie first received a commission from the United States,
authorizing him to negotiate a tripartite alliance of France, Holland, and
the United States; next came news, conveyed directly by Washington, of
the capitulation of Cornwallis, and, most potent of all, England adopted so
arbitrary a course toward Holland, in declaring war when negotiation might
so easily have settled the differences, that the old popular part}' of the com
mercial cities was aroused, and fairly overbalanced the stadtholder, who
was the creature of a corrupt favorite, and the friend of England. Mention
has been made of a memorial, addressed by Adams, to the States General,
announcing his accrediting to Holland, and demanding recognition. In
January, 1782, he began a round of formal visits to the representatives of
the various states, requesting a categorical answer to this memorial. He-
was received with varying cordiality, according to the inclination of the
several officers. The assent of seven of the states was necessary to the
granting of his request, and, in every instance, the persons to whom he
appealed, pleaded lack of authority, and promised to refer the matter. Soon

332 JOHN ADAMS.

came news that one state had decided favorably to the request ; then that
another had done so, and, finally, on the igth of April, 1782, the council
having received a sufficient number of favorable votes, recognized John
Adams as minister plenipotentiary of the United States. He did not allow
matters to rest with this recognition, but on the same day presented a pro
posal for a treaty of amity and commerce, and, pending the slow course of
Dutch diplomacy, pressed the negotiation of a much needed loan. His suc
cess with council and capitalists was complete The treaty was signed on
t'he i /th of October, 1782, and, before that time, a loan of five million guil
ders, only the first of several large investments, was closed. Thus his
second mission to Holland came to an end.

Mr. Adams was wont to regard his success in Holland as the greatest
•accomplishment of his life, and it may with much reason be so considered.
He went to that country, under the disapproval of the French minister,
unacquainted with the language, customs, and sentiments of the people. He
found them ignorant to the last degree as to American affairs, or, worse still,
intentionally misled by friends of England. He overcame all obstacles;
«ised the press and obtained the ears of prominent men in private. He
conquered the secret discountenance of France, the opposition of the stadt-
liolder and the aristocracy; created a public sentiment in favor of America,
and won recognition, alliance, and, hardest of all, money. All this he
accomplished quite alone, and it was, in truth, a great achievement.

THE NEGOTIATION OF THE PEACE. 333

CHAPTER IX.

THE NEGOTIATION OF THE PEACE.

WHEN came the call to Paris, Adams was none too eager to go. He
had sufficient knowledge of Vergcnnes to doubt his good faith, and
to be certain that the coming negotiation would be extremely vexatious.
He did not, therefore, at once desert his mission in Holland, which had then
reached a very critical point, but waited to secure the signature of his treaty,
—then took his departure, arriving in Paris October 6, 1782.

The condition of the negotiation was most peculiar. Already, so early
as the month of March, 1782, Lord North, whose administration had
received its death blow, had sent a certain private agent named Digges to
sound Mr. Adams, as to the terms upon which negotiation might be estab
lished, evidently desiring to conduct an independent and private con
ference with him. As a condition precedent to granting Digges an inter
view, Adams required that a third person be present, and that he himself
should be at liberty to disclose anything that might pass to the Count dc
Vergennes. These requirements in effect announced the failure of Digges'
mission. After an unimportant conversation he returned to England and
later made a communication to Adams, which confirmed his suspicion that
Lord North was simply sounding him with the hope of betraying him into
some unwise communication, and was never sincere in his expressed desire
to treat. Later came the crisis which upset North, to give place to a cab
inet headed by the Marquis of Rockingham, with Charles Fox in the
foreign, and Lord Shelburne in the colonial office. Of course the subject of
American affairs, upon which the cabinet of North had been wrecked, was
the rock in the course of the new ministry as well. At the very outset
arose a complication between Fox and Shelburne, each of whom claimed
that the American negotiation belonged in his province, which ultimately
wrecked the ministry. Out of this grew a remarkable series of secret
manoeuvres, in which each of the ministers carried on his own preliminary

334 JOHN ADAMS.

negotiation by means of private agents. Mr. Richard Oswald, sent as rep>
resentative of Lord Shelburne, was soon deep in consultation with Franklin,
while Mr. Thomas Grenville, an emissary of Fox, was sounding the Count
de Vergennes.

It is neither necessary nor possible to follow the various phases of the
preliminary steps to the negotiation. Fox favored admitting American
independence in the first instance ; Shelburne desired that question to
remain as an element in the negotiation. The misunderstandings and mys
terious reservations of agents, impressed Vergennes and Franklin with dis
trust of the good faith of Great Britain. Then Jay returned from Spain.
He knew that Spain would claim such a boundary as should cut off the
United States from the Mississippi river. All knew that England would
make every possible encroachment at the north, and that she would protest
against the demands of the United States regarding the fisheries. Jay sus
pected that Vergennes could not be relied upon for any active opposition.
He did not, however, know — what was the fact — that Vergennes had sent a
secret emissary to Lord Shelburne, intimating that France would not uphold
America in any unjust demands, from which language a readiness to make
liberal concessions, in the name of America, was intended to be inferred.

The defeat of Fox, his retirement from the cabinet, the death of Rock-
ingham, and the elevation of Shelburne to the premiership, all these led up
to the commissioning of Mr. Oswald to treat regarding peace, with ''the
thirteen colonies of North America, or any persons whatever." Franklin
and Vergennes expressed themselves willing to accept this peculiar com
mission and to treat with Mr. Oswald. Mr. Jay refused so to do, or to be
content with aught but an antecedent recognition of American indepen
dence. It was by reason of this disagreement that Mr. Adams was summoned,
not much to the satisfaction of Vergennes, and decidedly to the chagrin of
Oswald, who had hoped to conclude his treaty without the intervention of a
person so difficult either to intimidate or cajole. Adams' first suggestion,
made in a letter to Jay during September, was that a compromise be effected
by the amendment of Oswald's commission \vhich should give him power to
treat with the United States of America. He considered that this, while not
a formal recognition, would be a sufficient admission to form the basis of a
negotiation. The combined influence of Mr. Jay's pressing representations
and of the anxiety of England to close a treaty without the intervention of
Adams, was to secure this amendment of Oswald's instructions, and lie at
last stood recognized and apparently unhampered as the agent of Great Brit
ain, and opened his business with Jay and Franklin. The first step was the
submission by Mr. Oswald to his government of a threefold proposition, sug
gested by Mr. Franklin as a basis of negotiation. This embraced, first:
the recognition of American independence and liberal definition of bounda
ries; second: such joint use of fisheries, as had existed since the French

THE NEGOTIATION OF THE PEACE.

335

war until the Revolution; third: free navigation of the Mississippi. This
proposal certainly was broad enough, covering every possibly controverted
point; it was, in fact, too broad to suit king, cabinet, or people of Great
Britain. It began to be suspected that Mr. Oswald was not quite as wise as
a serpent, hence he was reinforced in his mission, by the appointment of
Mr. Henry Strachey, who was instructed to insist upon the indemnification
of refugees, the curtailment of boundaries, and the modification of American
demands regarding trade and the fisheries. From the moment of the
arrival of this gentleman, the harmony of the negotiation was at an end.
France, too, began to manifest in an unequivocal manner her design to
support the British commissioners in their demands for the modification of
the American ultimata as to trade and the fisheries. It was at this point
that Mr. Adams, having at last settled his important matters at the Hague,
arrived at Paris to assume his place in the commission. This was indeed a
most delicate one, calling for his action with and judgment between two
colleagues radically disagreed upon a vital matter, he himself being fully of
the mind of neither.

The attitude of France brought before the commissioners for the first
time, a full practical appreciation of the disadvantage and the blind folly of
the action of Congress, which had made them ultimately dependent upon the
decision of the French minister. They had before felt this as a humiliation;
they now saw before them only the choice between ignoring this direction
and proceeding with a separate negotiation, and, on the other hand, stand
ing idly by, while France should barter away the most valuable rights of
America, to assist in oiling the wheels of Furopean diplomacy for her own
purposes. Jay was the first to declare his intention of proceeding independ
ently of France; Franklin still professed confidence in the ultimate justice
of that power, but, upon Adams' joining with Jay, he assented. Yergcnnes
did not seem seriously offended at the action of the commissioners; it
was, in fact, a delicate and vexatious duty taken from his hands, and if he
might be clear of it, he was willing to waive ever}- real and imaginary right,
except that secured in the treaty of alliance, that the peace of France and
America with Great Britain should be simultaneous.

When the negotiation was re-begun, under this new determination,
Franklin and Jay were reinforced by Adams; Oswald by Strachey. The
independence was conceded, as was the matter of navigation of the
Mississippi. The points principally at issue were questions of boundary
and the fisheries, claimed by America; the securing of debts due British
subjects, and the payment of indemnity to refugees, insisted upon by the
British. Adams came just in time to save the interests of New Fngland as
to the northeastern boundary and the fisheries, for, while his colleagues had
pressed for them, they had not insisted upon them as essential. The result
of the early consultations of the enlarged commission, was the drawing of

336 JOHN ADAMS.

new proposals by Mr. Adams, which granted to British subjects the right of
collecting their debts by agency of the American courts, refused all indem
nity to refugees, demanded liberal boundaries, and equal rights with Great
Britain as to the fisheries. These Strachey conveyed to London, leaving
behind him a note in which he predicted a failure of the negotiation, should
they not be modified. The ministry was, however, in such a strait that
peace was a necessity, and the ultimate granting of the demands made by
the American commissioners, a light matter when compared with it. Hence
Strachey returned to France with instructions to offer concessions regarding
boundaries, to maintain the former position regarding the fisheries and refu
gees, until the determination of the American commissioners became evi
dent, then to recede and accept their terms.

The fisheries question coming up, after some discussion, Strachey offered
to concede the fishing at a distance of more than three leagues from the coast,
as a privilege, but declined to yield it nearer the shore. Adams claimed
the fisheries of the high seas as a right, that of the waters within the juris
diction of Great Britain as a concession. The British commissioners made
one more stand, avowing their readiness to yield the liberty but not the
right of fishing. Adams answered in a bold, determined, vehement speech,
saying that he had come to the conference to protect the rights of America
to the fishery, and that he would accept no other expression in lieu thereof.
This was a bold stand, for the commercial mission under which he originally
went to France, had been revoked, and the matter of the fisheries was then
not even held as an ultimatum by the United States. He turned to Lau-
rens, who had joined the commission, for corroboration and support, which
he received in liberal measure. Jay, though perhaps less warm in his
approval, also acquiesced. The British commissioners, deeming that they
had carried resistance as far as their instructions demanded, announced their
willingness to accept the terms proposed, and, on the same day, the 29th
of November, 1782, was signed the provisional treaty of peace. The vic
tory was indeed a grand one. The negotiation of so favorable a peace by
the inexperienced diplomatists of an infant nation, hampered by the weak
ness of their Congress, furtively opposed by the wily minister of France,
dealing with a nation so arrogant and unbending as Fngland — it was indeed
an accomplishment excusing a measure of pride. No other man upon the
commission did so much to literally and inflexibly support the demands of
America as did Adams, and the maintenance of her boundaries and fisheries
may justly be ascribed to him.

The preliminary treaty could, of course, only become effective when a
peace should be concluded between the other belligerent powers and Eng
land. There had never been a thought, on the part of any one of the Amer
ican commission, of overlooking the obligation which bound them to make a
common peace as they had made a common war with France. Yet Ver-

JOHN JAY.
PATP1CK HtXRY.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

JOHN HANCOCK.
GOUVERNEUtt MORRIS.-

THE NEGOTIATION OF THE PEACE. ^37

gennes was not free from suspicion that they might make such an attempt.
When the result of the conference was first reported to him. he expressed his
approval, and complimented the commissioners upon the skill and tact which
had brought their labors to so happy an issue. Later, however, when Jay
offered him the opportunity to send dispatches to America, in the vessel
which was to bear the announcement of their own success, he appeared
much discontented, and taxed them with being in great haste to communi
cate the result of their own work, without taking any pains to ascertain the
condition of the French negotiation, so that their preliminary treaty might,
in fact, have the same weight and effect as if it were definitive. He, how
ever, accepted the offer of their vessel, and sent serious complaints regarding
the conduct of the commissioners, particularly as related to the independent
'negotiation. This action on his part would have had much greater effect,
had it been taken earlier. Coming with the news of the preliminary treaty,
it lost half its force. It drew, however, from Livingston, secretary of
Congress, a rebuke and admonition, which were ill-timed and undeserved.
This action excited much indignation among the members of the commis
sion, and was answered in an elaborate official statement of facts and
arguments.

In spite of all misunderstandings and mistrust, delays, cavillings, and
insincerity, France, Spain, and Kngland at last settled upon terms of peace,
and the definitive treaty, which formally admitted America to the family
of nations, was signed on the 3d of September, 1783. With this act, Mr.
Adams regarded his mission in Kurope as completed. He had accomplished
all he had sought, the alliance with Holland, the loan which released
America from desperate straits, and the peace. Hence he applied for
permission to return home. Congress and the people were, however,
too well satisfied with what he had clone in Kurope, to consent to give
up his services. He had, in certain private letters, expressed regret that the
revocation of his former commission had left no one in Kurope with power
to negotiate a commercial treaty with Kngland. This suggestion reached
Congress, and, instead of his wished for permission to return to his home,
he received notice of his appointment, in connection with Messrs. Franklin
and Jay, for that service.

538 JOHN ADAMS.

CHAPTER X.

FURTHER FOREIGN SERVICE-THE VICE-PRESIDENCY.

DAMS was not at once permitted to assume his duties upon the new
commission for negotiation with Great Britain. The arduous labors
of several successive years, and his long exposure to the miasmatic poison
of the low countries, had combined to undermine his health ; already he had
passed through an attack of fever at the Hague, and now, having barely
completed his peace mission in Paris, he was again prostrated. His illness
was long and serious; in its course it was deemed necessary to remove him
from his hotel, in the heart of Paris, to the quiet home of a friend, in the
suburbs. There he gradually improved, until he reached convalescence;
long rides and drives in the Bois de Boulogne, and the pleasant by-ways of
Auteuil, brought slowly back a measure of his strength. Still he did not
gain as fast as he should, and, under advice of his physicians, he sailed for
England in October, 1783, made the journey with comfort, and was
ensconced at the Adelphi hotel, in London. Through the intervention of
his great and honored countryman, Benjamin West, he obtained access to
Buckingham and Windsor palaces, and, by a strange coincidence, stood in
the house of lords when the poor, weak old king made his address, present
ing to the house the Prince of Wales, that day attained majority, and at
the same time confessing that 1he \var which he had provoked, had brought
only defeat, disaster, and humiliation.

Though the change of air and scene had proven beneficial to Mr.
Adams, it was found that he still required something more, and he was
recommended to try the effect of the waters at Bath. Hence, he left Lon
don and was just becoming domesticated in the gay English watering place,
when came word that the American loan, negotiated with Holland, had
been exhausted ; that the drafts of the American treasury upon the Barings
had been protested for non-acceptance, and were in danger of being pro
tested for non-payment. At the same time he received urgent directions to

FURTHER FOREIGN SERVICE. 339

jepair to the Hague and negotiate an additional loan. Weak and frail in
health, he could scarcely but regard such an expedition, in the depth
of a severe winter, with the primitive means of travel then existing, as
attempted, if at all, almost necessarily at the price of his life. Yet he
determined to make the effort, that he might save to America the results of
his former efforts. To reach the Hague a dangerous and difficult voyage
was necessary, and this was undertaken by Mr. Adams and his son, John
Quincy Adams, who had been his constant companion throughout his
journeys and labor in Europe. The vessel was detained by unfavorable
winds and finally landed its passengers upon the island of Goree, whence it
was necessary to cross the half frozen arm of the sea to the island of Over
Flackee, traverse its length, then make another perilous crossing to the
main land. All this was done at a cost of hardship such as Mr. Adams had
never before suffered, and he reached the Hague and opened the not too
hopeful negotiation, which he carried to a successful issue, providing suf
ficient means for all the needs of government, until it became self-sustaining
under the Constitution. This was done, however, upon less favorable terms
than formerly, by reason of the extravagance and bad business methods
of the government, which had somewhat alarmed the methodical Dutchmen.

Pending the negotiation of this important loan, came overtures from
Frederick II. of Prussia, for the making of a commercial treaty with the
United States. Franklin had just concluded such a treat}' with Sweden, and
Mr. Adams submitted a copy of it to the king, as a basis for preliminary dis
cussion. Then followed a long and interesting consideration of the subject,
involving a correspondence between Mr. Adams and the Prussian minister
of state, which was the ..ourcc of great satisfaction to the former. Finally,
when even' point had been carefull}' discussed, and ever}' suggestion of the
king elaborated and embodied in the form of a proposed treat}', the whole
was sent to the United States for the consideration of Congress. Before it
was received, Congress had commissioned John Adams, Benjamin Franklin,
and Thomas Jefferson with general powers tor the negotiation of commercial
treaties with all European powers. This commission came in the early
portion of the year 1/84, and not f.tr from this time Mrs. .Adams and her
daughter arrived in Europe and the reunited family settled in Paris. Then
ensued a few months of keen and uninterrupted enjoyment, which years
of almost constant separation and arduous labor had well earned. The
official character of Mr. Adams, added to the recognition which his person
ality had won, opened the most jealous doors of the gay French capital.
Mrs. Adams was well capable of worthily sustaining her husband's position,
and thus, in the society of the most cultivated and interesting persons of the
official, fashionable, and literary world, the days and weeks passed very
smoothly.

The first meeting of the new commission was held at Paris, on the 3Oth

34O JOHN ADAMS.

day of August, 1784, and notification sent to every maritime power in
Europe, of its existence and the scope of its authority. There was no
manifestation of eagerness on the part of the powers to meet the commis
sion, and conclude treaties with the new and half-trusted nation beyond the
Atlantic. Frederick, of Prussia, was a notable exception ; the unfinished
negotiation, begun with Mr. Adams, was carried forward under the new
commission, and resulted in the adoption of a treaty which, for liberality
and humanity, was far in advance of any that had ever been sealed between
nations. The privileges of trade, the guaranties of personal immunity,
and the general unreserved reciprocity, did infinite credit alike to the king
and to Mr. Adams, and were well worthy of a more general recognition and
imitation than they have received even in a later century. The labors of the
commission were not engrossing, and the happy life at Paris continued until
the month of February, 1785, when came to Adams notice of his appoint
ment as envoy to St. James, — a tardy recognition of the folly of the revo
cation of his former commission. It was with reluctance that the recipient
of this appointment left Paris for London, to take up his new and important
duties as the first envoy of the victorious colonies, to the court of the
defeated king. It was, indeed, a delicate charge which he had to assume.
The confederation of the North American States, had only survived the
war by the force of public emergency, and, with the withdrawal of this
external pressure, it was falling to pieces like the timbers of a stranded
ship. The British government had deserted the pacific and liberal policy of
the Shelburne ministry, which, had it been adopted, would have united the
two nations by ties of common interest more permanent and valuable than
those which had been dissolved by war. In its place had been proposed a
policy of rigorous exclusion of the United States from all the benefits of
the British colonial trade. It can, in fact, scarcely be regarded as a policy,
for it was the least politic course which could have been pursued, and was
dictated purely by resentment. Though opposed by the wisest statesmen,
it pleased the thoughtless ones, it pleased the king, and it flattered the
wounded pride of the people. Then, too, the American confederation
failed to live up to its treaty agreements ; not only was there a conspicuous
lack of zeal in opening the way for the collection of debts held by British
citizens, but some states actually went so far as to declare such obligations
void, repudiating the act of Congress and its commission. There was much
cause for the mortification of the friends and the exultation of the enemies
of America throughout Europe, and especially in Great Britain. The latter
power needed only a pretext for retaliation, and refused to abandon the
frontier forts as stipulated in the treaty.

This being the condition of affairs, the mission of Adams was fore
doomed to failure. Upon arriving at London, in May, he was formally
presented to the king, and was received with icy civility. No people in the

FURTHER FOREIGN SERVICE. 34!

world, sooner detects or is more strictly ruled by the humor of royalty,
than is the British. What was bare civility in the king, became coldness in
the ministry, superciliousness in the court, rudeness in the people. When
Jefferson was summoned from Paris, to give counsel in the matter, he went
with Adams before the king, and the monarch, after a few formal words,
placed the royal orb in eclipse, by turning his back upon the representative
rebels. Failure was everywhere predicted for the American experiment,
and there seemed little reason for a better hope. There were not lacking
wise men in England, who expected to see America begging for pardon,
protection, and a place in the colonial family. Under such circumstances
the negotiation of a treaty of commerce was entirely impracticable. Jeffer
son returned to Paris within a few weeks, and, although Adams remained in
London for nearly three years, his mission calls for no further attention.

The opinions of Europe were at that time very unsettled. The polit
ical leaven which resulted in the French revolution, was even then at work,
and not alone in Paris or in France. Every capital in Europe had its imita
tors and disciples of Rousseau, Voltaire — even of the hideous fanatic,
Marat. Political discussion was the only discussion, and the word liberty
was upon every tongue. As was inevitable under the circumstances, the
American experiment was much discussed and freely condemned, though
with no great enlightenment. Among its assailants was M. Turgot, a
French publicist, and, upon reading his production, Mr. Adams determined
to devote his time to elaborating his own theory of American system,
for the enlightenment of Europe, as well as the clarification of American
ideas upon the subject. With infinite labor he prepared and published his
work entitled, A Defense of the Constitution of the United States from the
Attack of M. Turgot, which ultimately extended to three volumes, and was
published and read throughout Europe and America. The work was not a
remarkable one from a literary standpoint, and its significance has long since
passed, but it vindicated its niison tf ctrc at the time, placing before the
world the first elaborate and well considered discussion of the subject. The
first volume came to Massachusetts just at the time when the fate of the
newly framed federal Constitution hung in the balance. The state was
divided, the commercial element favoring the Constitution ; the agricultural
class opposing it. Samuel Adams and John Hancock were inclined to take
part with the opposition. They read John Adams' volume; he had learned
lessons by the failure of the confederation, and the burthen of his argument
was in favor of a federation, with adequate central authority, in the hands of
an elective executive, a legislature composed of two branches, and a judi
ciary which should check the legislative. This was a modification of the
British system to meet the needs of America, and it did not sufficiently
differ from that embodied in the proposed constitution of America, to
weaken the effect of its arguments in favor of that instrument, and, as a

342 JOHN ADAMS.

result, these may be said to have determined the policy of Sainu^ Adams
and Hancock ; with them the action of Massachusetts ; with 'Massachu
setts the fate of the constitution. The work was later read, analyzed,
rudely dismembered, and every isolated sentence which could be turned to
such a purpose, used to show that Adams was a monarchist and a danger
ous enemy of freedom.

With the completion and publication of this treatise, Adams felt his
work in Europe to be done. During the year 1787 he solicited permission,
to return home; in February, 1788, he received his recall, and during
the following spring sailed for America. Thus ended his marvelous diplo
matic service.

The period intervening between the return of Adams to America and
his assumption of the honors of the presidency must be dismissed with
great brevity. The Constitution was ratified immediately after his home
coming, and the agitation of the presidential question at once began.
Washington was clearly to be President ; who should be Vice President was
problematical. The fundamental differences out of which grew the federal
and democratic parties, dated from the Constitution. All who favored it
were deemed federalists, all who opposed, democrats. Hamilton was a lead
ing spirit in the preliminary steps of what we should now call a campaign.
It was vitally important that the Vice President should be in harmony with
the Chief Executive, and, to Hamilton's view, no less so that he should be of
the federal inclining. Geographical considerations, too, had their weight. As
Washington was a Virginian, it was desirable to throw a sop to the North,
and New England in particular needed a harmonizing effort. The most
prominent men of New England, were John and Samuel Adams, and John
Hancock, and, among these, there could be no question either as to gen
eral fitness for the place, or peculiar eligibility for the harmonizing of fac
tions and supporting the first efforts of the administration. Yet, while
Hamilton accepted John Adams as a necessity, he was far from being
perfectly content ; he desired above all things to keep the second office of
the administration in subordination to the first, and he determined to secure
such a distribution of electoral votes as should insure the repression of any
quiescent ambition to shine with too prominent a greatness. Hamilton, to
borrow a modern slang expression, was the first political " boss " ; he man*
ipulated the electoral college with such good effect that, of its sixty-nine
members, thirty-four voted for Adams, while the votes of the remaining
thirty-nine were divided among ten other candidates. This was sufficient
to elect him, but, to Hamilton's view, enough to suggest to him the advisa
bility of a reasonable subordination. The service of Mr. Adams as vice
president may be tersely summed up, yet it was more important than he
would have had the world believe, when he wrote his wife: "But my
country has, in its wisdom, contrived for me the most insignificant office

THE VICE PRESIDENCY. 343

that ever the invention of man contrived, or his imagination conceived."
There was, at the outset, a membership of but twenty two in the Senate.
Feeling ran high and party lines were closely drawn. One of the earliest
important questions which arose, was as to the appointment of the Presi
dent's cabinet — whether or no the confirmation of the Senate should be
necessary. The injustice of placing such power in the same bod}' of men
who constituted a court for the trial of an impeachment, to-day seems
obvious enough, yet the Senate was divided, nine votes being cast upon
either side of the question. This threw the decision into the hands of
Adams, as president of the Senate, and he voted against the conferring of
such power upon that body. No less than twenty times, during the first
Congress, was he called upon to give a casting vote, and usual!}' upon
important measures. In every case he voted with the administration, not
because he was in sympathy with Hamilton, or always with his measures,
but because he saw the vital importance of organization and the investment
of the federal government with authority sufficient to carry its formative
policy into effect.

Then came the French revolution. Adams, from the first, believed
that no stability could be expected in a government of millions of atheists
and political agnostics. He said as much in private conversation, in letters,
and in a series of elaborate dissertations in the press. During all the
dangerous complications which followed, he was always a devoted advocate
of Washington's policy of neutrality and an opponent of the ruinous falla
cies, which the Galliphiles attempted, in their clubs and through the press,
to engraft in America. Here he, for the first time, came in direct personal
conflict with Jefferson, who was as much an extremist upon one side of the
question as was Hamilton on the other side. It is interesting to note that,
while he was using the pen in opposition to the popular agitation in Phila
delphia, his son, John Ouincy Adams, then a young Boston lawyer, was
doing a similar work over the signature Pnblicola, without consultation with
him ; the letters of the latter were pronounced by the most prominent
English publicists, the ablest exposition of the matter that had been made.
It was not only in writing and speaking that Adams served America
in this emergency. When, as a result of the arrogant interference of Great
Britain with the shipping of the United States, trading with France,
measures had passed the lower house which could only have resulted in
plunging the young nation into the midst of a general European war, and,
these measures coming to a vote, in the Senate, that body was equally
divided, he gave the casting vote in favor of the administration, — which
meant in favor of neutrality and peace.

On the 3<Dth of Ma}', 1/94, Mr. Adams had the satisfaction of seeing
his son, John Ouincy Adams, spontaneously named by Washington and
confirmed by the Senate for the mission to Holland.

344 JOHN ADAMS.

The history of the two administrations during which Adams filled the
vice presidential chair has been fully written elsewhere.* Having briefly
named the principal features of his service, it is necessary to pass to the
year 1796, when, by an electoral vote of seventy-one, one more than neces
sary to a choice, he was chosen President of the United States, with
Thomas Jefferson as Vice President. This close vote presaged the disso
lution of the federalist party.

*See life of Washington, ante.

THE PRESIDENCY — CONCLUSION. 34$

CHAPTER XI.

MR. ADAMS' PRESIDENCY— CONCLUSION.

MR. ADAMS was inaugurated President of the United States, March
4, 1797. He retained in office the cabinet which had advised
Washington during the latter months of his administration, — Thomas Picker
ing, secretary of state ; Oliver Wolcott, secretary of the treasury; Jame?
McHenry, secretary of war; Charles Lee, attorney-general. When, during
the year 1798, the navy department was established, he made Benjamin
Stoddart, of Maryland, secretary of the navy. At the very outset of his
administration, he was brought face to face with the misunderstandings with
France, which have been discussed at large at an earlier page of this work.
It will be remembered that Charles C. Pinckney, American minister to
France, had been insulted and driven from its territories by the republic;
that American ships carrying Knglish products, or trading with England,
were subjected to examination and the diversion of their cargoes, and that
one arrogant and injurious edict had followed another until there was appar
ently little further virtue in forbearance. Hence, the President called an
extra session of Congress to meet May 15 1/97. The federalists had, at
that time, a good working majority in each house of Congress, and the
indignation caused by the action of France drew many members of the
opposition temporarily to the administration. The President and the
majority in Congress had not, however, despaired of maintaining an honor
able peace; the neutrality laws were re-affirmed, the fitting out of privateers
and the participation in any hostile movement against France forbidden, the
exporting of arms interdicted, and their importation encouraged. The
President was authorized to call out militia to the number of eighty thou
sand, and provision was made for the equipment of a naval force, but one
entirely inadequate to offensive service. In order to meet the great expense
of these measures, stamp duties were provided for, — than which no legisla
tion ever proved more unpopular. These various acts include all the impor
tant legislation of the special session, which adjourned July 10, 1797-

34C JOHN ADAMS.

Previous to that time, the President had intimated his determination to
make one more effort at accommodating the differences with France. Tr
this end, he nominated Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, Elbridge Gerry, anc*
John Marshall special envoys to France, with the fullest powers to treat.
These gentlemen met in Paris during the month of October, 1797, aiuA
immediately put forward every effort toward the fulfilment of their mission,
They were met, however, with every manner of evasion and subterfuge
The government, affecting to ignore them, still employed unofficial persons
to negotiate with them. These suppressed their own names, and conducted,
their endeavors under the mysterious initials X, Y, and Z. The burthen of
this dishonorable effort was to detach the ministers from each other and
obtain the views of each in separate interviews. Marshall and Pinckney
were convinced of the impossibility of effecting any desirable result by such
processes, and requested of Adams permission to return to America. The
granting of this request was almost immediately anticipated by an insulting
and summary order from the government, that Marshall and Pinckney leave
France, coupled with an invitation to Gerry to remain, which was very much
like a demand. Gerry, doubtless with good intentions, but very unwisely,
did continue in France until the following October, while his colleagues
made the best of their way homeward.

The news of the outrageous conduct of France excited the wildest
excitement and anger — particularly when it became known that mone>
nad been demanded as the price of peace. It was then that Mr. Pinckne>
coined the noble and now proverbial phrase: "Millions for defense, bul
not a cent for tribute." This sentiment was echoed by the people at large,
and the Congress which assembled in regular session on the I3th of Novem
ber and sat constantly for more than eight months, was busy in concerting
means for defense against an apprehended French invasion. Measures were
adopted for organizing an army under the command of Washington ; for
defending the seaboard cities ; for the institution of a naval department, and
the organization of an adequate maritime force. A loan was also nego
tiated and a direct tax upon real estate levied. Still, the neutrality of the
country was sought to be maintained ; America stood simply in a vigilantly
defensive attitude. France was engaged in a most outrageous interference
with American shipping, which, under pretext of enforcing a blockade
against England, was subjected to constant and malicious damage. An act
of Congress suspended commercial relations with France ; merchant vessels
were permitted to arm themselves for defense. Against this policy the
democratic minority was strongly arrayed, but the people \vere with the
administration and Adams had good reason at that time to believe himself
secure in the good opinion of the country.

War was never declared between the United States and France. The
intent of France, at that time as unscrupulous a power as any in the world,.

THE PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION. 347

seems to have been to work upon the fears of America and exact money by
that means. The active war preparations of the United States, the worsting
of the French frigates L* Insurgent and La Vengeance, by the American
frigate Constellation, tended to disabuse the minds of the mercenary French
of the idea that the further prosecution of such an attempt could be profit
able. Anticipating somewhat the order of events, the history of this compli
cation may be completed. The two powers maintained their attitude of mu
tual distrust until the year 1799, without further collision or overture. When
the fifth Congress convened for its third session, in December, 1/98, the
message of the President was met with very cordial approval ; his war meas
ures were prompth' supported ; an increase of the army was voted, and a
million dollars appropriated for strengthening the navy. France was far from
eager to measure swords with the United States, and had she done so, it is
more than likely she would have been defeated, for the younger nation was
well prepared and well disposed for the conflict. After making many
important provisions for defense, Congress expired by limitation, in March,
1799. Before this time President Adams had received word from Mr.
William Vans Murray, American minister in Holland, that the French
minister to that power had intimated that his government would receive one
or more American envoys, to treat for an accommodation. The President
determined to act upon this hint, and, on the 25th day of February, 1799,
nominated to the Senate Mr. Murray, Oliver Kllsworth, and Patrick Henry
as such envoys, and all were confirmed. Mr. Henry declined to serve, and
William R. Davie, of North Carolina, was substituted. The envoys did not
depart for France until November, 1799, no official assurance that they
would be favorably received, having been given until October. When
they reached Paris, they found that a change of government had taken
place, and that Napoleon Bonaparte had taken the first step in his then
unsuspected scheme of advancement, and ranked as first consul. The his
tory of the negotiation need not be followed here. It resulted in the con
elusion of a treat}' which secured peace, though it did not definitely provide
for indemnity for the outrages committed by France. It was ratified by the
French government in iSoo, and was in the main confirmed by the Senate
of the United States, during the administration of Mr. .Adams. Two sections
were, however, reserved and remained for Jefferson to settle.

This was a peace without honor. Mr. Adams, carried away by his
desire to prevent a war, sadly forgot the dignity of the United States, when
he consented to accept an indefinite and roundabout report of the readiness
of France to receive the envoys of a people which she had so grossly
wronged. War would doubtless have been a misfortune, even if successful,
but not so great as this ignominious suit for peace, when America was well
able to command her right by force. This single act lost Mr. Adams the
support of his part}', and the sympathy of the people, and rendered cer-

JOHN ADAMS.

tain his own defeat, and the overthrow of federalism. Mr. Adams felt
quite certain that his cabinet would at least be divided in sentiment ; per
haps a majority would oppose this last opportunity of pacification ; hence,
when he proceeded to name the envoys, he did it without consultation with
them; he overcame the opposition of the Senate by falling back upon the
constitutional rights of the executive, and thus took solely upon himself
the responsibility for the measure. His action resulted directly in alienat
ing his cabinet, especially Mclienry, secretary of war, and Pickering, sec
retary of state. The ill-feeling arising at this time increased until, in May,
1800, Adams summarily dismissed both from his cabinet.

It is necessary to return to a brief discussion of important legislation,
of the years 1797 and 1798.

In the summer of the former year was begun a system of repression
which called for and deserved the unqualified disapproval of the democratic
party, as it has at this day the condemnation of every thinking man. This
was the enacting of the famous — or infamous — alien and sedition laws.
The first required all unnaturalized persons to report themselves for regis
tration at the office of the clerks of district courts; required a residence
of fourteen years, and a declaration of intention to become permanent
residents, to be filed five years before naturalization papers would be issued.
The President was authorized to warn all persons he deemed dangerous
to the peace and safety of the country, to depart therefrom "within
such time as should be expressed in such order," a penalty of three years'
imprisonment to be enforced in case of non-compliance. These laws were
made still more oppressive from time to time, until ship-loads of French
refugees and others were forced to seek asylum in other lands.

The second act of repression affected particularly the citizens of this
country. On the I4th of July the sedition act was passed. It provided
that any person unlawfully conspiring to oppose any measure of Congress,
to prevent any officer of the government from fulfilling his duties, or advised
or attempted "to procure any insurrection, riot, unlawful assembly, or
combination, whether such conspiracy, threatening, council, advice, or
attempt, should have the proposed effect or not," the persons so offending
should be deemed guilty of a high misdemeanor, and should be punished by
a fine not exceeding five hundred dollars and by imprisonment of not less
than six months and not more than five years. The second section of this
act provided ' ' That if any person shall write, print, utter or publish, or
shall cause or procure to be written, printed, uttered, or published, or shall
knowingly and wilfully assist or aid in wrriting, printing, uttering, or pub
lishing any false, scandalous, and malicious writing or writings, against the
government of the United States, or either house of Congress of the United
States, or the President of the United States, with intent to defame the said
government, or either house of said Congress, or the said President, or to

THE PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION. 349

bring them or either of them into contempt or disrepute ; or to excite
against them, or either or any of them, the hatred of the good people of
the United States, or to stir up sedition within the United States, or to
excite any unlawful combinations therein, for opposing or resisting any law
of the United States, or any act of the President of the United States, done
ii pursuance of any such law, of the powers in him vested by the Constitu
tion of the Unitfd States, or to resist, oppose, or defeat any such law or act,
or to aid, encourage, or abet any hostile designs of any foreign nation
against the United States, their people, or government, then such person,
being thereof convicted before any court of the United States having juris
diction thereof, shall be punished by a fine not exceeding two thousand dol
lars, and by imprisonment not exceeding two years."

Thus was a gag placed in the mouth of every person in the Union.
There could be no more free speech or free expression regarding any meas-
."ure of Congress. The opposition held that Hamilton had planned deeply,
and his plans had assumed definite shape. The minority had the terror of
enforcement of this law suspended over their heads should they by word or
act condemn any of his measures, or pass stricture on any of his acts. The
first victim was Matthew Lyon, a member of Congress, who caused to be
published in a Vermont paper, respecting President Adams, that his "every
consideration of the public welfare was swallowed up in a continual grasp
for power, and unbounded thirst for ridiculous pomp, foolish adulation, and
selfish avarice." At a public meeting he had read and commented upon a
letter from Joel Barlow, then in France, expressing the sentiment that for
his speech to Congress the President should be "sent to a mad-house." On
conviction, Mr. Lyon was sentenced to pay a fine of one thousand dollars
and suffer four months imprisonment. The unfortunate publisher of the
paper was convicted of the publication of the offensive words, and sentenced
to two months imprisonment and to pay a fine of two hundred dollars.
Other trials and convictions followed during the continuance of the law,
which expired by limitation during Jefferson's first term as President. Free
speech and free discussion of political matters were then decided constitu
tional rights of all citizens, and have since been general!}' so admitted,
although some instances of the enforcement of the gag law are on record,
notably many years later in the discussions relating to slavery.

The condemnation of both alien and sedition laws was justified by their
effect in their entirety, while the restraint of the former upon too speedy
naturalization, and of the latter upon conspiracy, were certainly desirable.
If federalism had been weary of life and power, it could not have commit
ted a more certainly effectual fclo dc sc than this. There were two hundred
newspapers published in the United States at the time, and all but twenty
of them were of avowed federalist sympathies, yet the influence of these
was in no case actively engaged in favor of these laws. Congress was rained

350 JOHN ADAMS.

with petitions tor their repeal, public meetings everywhere condemned them,
and several state legislatures denounced them as unconstitutional. Another
pregnant cause of discontent was the imposition of direct taxes, which
produced so great disorder in Pennsylvania, that it was necessary, for a
second time, to call upon the governor of that state to order out the militia
to enforce obedience to the laws.

In the sixth Congress, was still a federalist majority. Theodore Sedg-
wick, of Massachusetts, a prominent member of that party, was speaker of
the House, and the President received in answer to his speech, assurances of
the approval of both houses. This was a strictly party demonstration, and
meant simply that the federalists were in a majority. In December came
news of the death of Washington, and, after the usual adjournment, the
Congress resumed the business of a singularly laborious session, during
which eighteen hundred acts were passed, further providing for the defense
of the country and for the protection of commerce ; for maintaining peace
with the Indians, and for the relief of persons imprisoned for debt, in cases
decided by the courts of the United States ; a bankrupt act ; laws for the
increase of import duties ; for the extension of the post-office, and for the
taking of a census in the year iSoo, — these were among its most important
measures.

The popular opposition to the administration of Adams grew daily
stronger. The danger of war with France being past, and the popular
ebullition over, the pressure of taxes was severely felt and strongly resented.
As may be supposed, the opposition did not permit this dissatisfaction to
fail for lack of fomentation. When came the time for the selection, by con
gressional caucuses, of the candidates of the respective parties for President
and Vice President, the federalists named John Adams and Charles Cotes-
worth Pinckney; the democrats, Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr. Under
the state constitutions then existing many of the electors were to be chosen
by legislative votes ; this was true of New York, and, such being the case,
the election of members of the legislature of that state, — the first to occur
after the nomination — was peculiarly significant in pointing to the result of
the Presidential election. It occurred on the 2g\h and 3<Dth of April, and
the ist of May, 1800, and was favorable to the democrats, thus reversing the
«?ote by which Adams had been elected. The effect of this may, in some
degree, be judged at the present day by that of elections in "October
states"; it was to encourage the democrats, to nerve the federalists to
renewed efforts, and to vastly embitter the struggle between them. It was
immediately after this election, that Mr. Adams removed Pickering and Mc-
Henry from his cabinet. This action drew from Hamilton a letter condemn
ing the conduct and impugning the character of the President. This was pub
lished in a pamphlet, and was industriously circulated, having a very marked
effect in securing the annihilation of the federalist party. It was bi;t nat-

THE PRESIDENCY CONCLUSION. 351

ural that a direct repudiation of the nominee of a party oy the man wno was
recognized as its leader, should have such an effect. Hamilton did not
intend to elect Jefferson, but Pinckney ; his pamphlet was intended to be
circulated among federalists, not democrats, but it came into the hands of
the latter, and quite overreached its original intention.

It was believed by some that South Carolina would vote for Adams and
Pinckney, but when, in December, 1800, her electoral votes were given for
Jefferson and Burr, the fate of the federalists was recognized as sealed.
The electoral colleges duly met and gave their votes as follows : Jefferson,
seventy-three; Burr, seventy-three; Adams, sixty-five; Pinckney, sixty-
four ; John Jay, one. Thus the election was thrown into the House, with
the result of electing Jefferson to the Presidency.

On the 22d of November, 1800, the sixth Congress met in the new
capital city, Washington, and Adams presented his last regular message.
John Marshall, of Virginia, was secretary of state, in place of Pickering,
and Samuel Dexter, of Massachusetts, secretary of war, in place of
McHenry. On the 3ist of December following, Oliver Wolcott resigned
the treasury portfolio, and was replaced by Dexter, Roger Griswold, of Con
necticut, being made secretary of war.

The remainder of Mr. Adams' administration calls for comment in only
one particular. During the winter Congress passed a bill, amending the
judiciary system by dividing the United States into six judicial districts, and
appointing three judges for each, thus leaving the bench of the supreme
court free to act only upon appeals and in error. Between the 1 3th of
February and the 4th of March, iSoi, President Adams, with the consent
of the Senate, appointed judges to fill these newly created vacancies, and
issued their commissions, upon the eve of Jefferson's inauguration. This
action was of course a party expedient, and called down upon him much
severe criticism. The appointees were called "Adams' midnight judges,"
by reason of the supposed hour of their appointment. They lost their
offices early in Jefferson's term, by reason of the repeal of the law under
which they were appointed.

On the iith of February, 1801, the electoral votes were counted, the
tie being announced by Jefferson, as president of the Senate. This threw
the vote into the House, which balloted thirty-six times, finally electing
Jefferson President, and Burr Vice President. On the 4th of March, the new
President was inaugurated, and Adams retired forever from public life.

Mr. Adams laid down the duties of the presidency, an irritated, disap
pointed mun. Not that he desired the office; had he been defeated, after
Deceiving the hearty support of his party, he would have gone cheerfully
and happily to his home, but he felt that the swords of his enemies in front,
arid the daggers of false friends behind, had combined to cut him off. He

352 JOHN ADAMS.

felt a strong and deep-seated distrust of the democratic party, and a personal
irritation toward Thomas Jefferson, the incarnation of its principles. With
characteristic disregard for appearances — very unwise in its effect upon him
self and sadly undignified, he refused to remain at Washington to attend
the inauguration of the President-elect, and hastened to his farm at Quincy,
which he never, save once, left for any public service. That once was
between the I5th of November, 1820, and the pth of January, 1821, when,
Maine having been erected into a state, a new constitution w7as framed for
Massachusetts. He served in this convention, and thus aided in building
both the constitutions of his state.

So soon as he reached Quincy, he seemed to drop into the condition
described by the poet :

" The world forgetting, by the world forgot;"

bitter in the estimate of his wrongs and his feeling toward his enemies, he
was not the recipient during the first year of more than one hundred let
ters. The world not unnaturally judged harshly of his action in deserting
Washington before the inauguration, and the federal party made him the
scapegoat for its defeat. His feeling toward Jefferson was at that time so
bitter that, then and for many years, there was no communication between
them. Finally, with the death of old parties and the change of issues, there
came to be a very different feeling. Adams and Jefferson were reconciled;
the world regarded the wonderful services of the former more than his
errors, and his time was again filled by correspondence and visits of respect.
He lived upon his farm at Quincy, eking out his slender income by its pro
ducts, and living a life of which one day wTas so like another that one is at a
loss to describe any. He lived to see his son United States senator, min
ister to St. James, secretary of state, President of the United States — to see
the full fruition of his own teaching, and the carrying of his name in high and
increasing honor. Feebleness came with great age ; his wife had already
found rest in the green cemetery at Quincy. Finally approached Inde
pendence day, 1826; the people of Quincy sent a messenger to crave his
presence at their celebration ; he wras too weak to go but sent a toast,
" INDEPENDENCE FOREVER." This was drunk, and almost before the shouts
which greeted it had sunk into silence, John Adams, with the words
" Thomas Jefferson still survives," had passed away, following, by but a few
hours, the illustrious man who commanded his last thought.

In taking leave of this stalwart figure that held its own so bravely
among the early statesmen of America, it is proper to refer somewhat to
the personal traits and gifts of character that made him what he was. The
testimony of his son and grandson* is, apparently, not so clouded by per
sonal affection or pride of family as to injure the truth or honesty of the
picture :

* 'The Life of John Adams.' Begun by John Quincy Adams: completed by Charles
Francis Adams.

PERSONAL TRAITS GIFTS OF CHARACTER. 353

" In figure, John Adams was not tall, scarcely exceeding middle
height, but of a stout, well knit frame, denoting vigor and long life, yet as
he grew old, inclining more and more to corpulence. His head was large
and round, with a wide forehead and expanded brows. His eye was mild
and benignant, perhaps even humorous, when he was free from emotion,
but when excited, it fully expressed the vehemence of the spirit that
stirred within. His presence was grave and imposing on serious occasions,
but not unbending. He delighted in social conversation, in which he was
sometimes tempted to what he called rodomontade. But he seldom
fatigued those who heard him, for he mixed so much of natural vigor, of
fancy and of illustration with the stores of his acquired knowledge, as to
keep alive their interest for a long time. His affections were warm,
though not habitually demonstrated, towards his relatives. His anger,
when thoroughly roused, was, for a time, extremely violent, but when it
subsided it left no trace of malevolence behind. Nobody could see him
intimately without admiring the simplicity and truth which shone in his
action, and standing in some awe at the reserved power of his will. It
was in these moments that he impressed those around him with a sense of
his greatness. ... At times his vehemence would become so great as to
make him overbearing and unjust. This was most apt to happen in cases
of pretension or any kind of wrong-doing. Mr. Adams was very impa
tient of cant, of sciolism, or of opposition to any of his deeply-established
convictions. Neither was his indignation at all graduated to the character
of the individuals who might happen to excite it. It had little respect of
persons, and would hold an illiterate man or a raw boy to as heavy a
responsibility for uttering a crude heresy, as the strongest thinker or the
most profound scholar. His nature was too susceptible to overtures of
sympathy and kindness, for it tempted him to trust more than was pru
dent in the professions of some who proved unworthy of his confidence.
Ambitious, in one sense, he certainly was, but it was not the mere
aspiration for place or power. It was the desire to excel in the minds of
men, by the development of high qualities, the love, in short, of an hon
orable fame, that stirred him to exult in the rewards of popular favor.
Yet this passion never tempted him to change a course of action or to sup
press a serious conviction ; to bend to a prevailing error, or to disavow an-
odious truth.

" In two things he was favored above most men. He was happily mar
ried to a woman whose character was singularly fitted to develop every good
point of his ; a person with a mind capable of comprehending his, with af
fections strong enough to respond to his sensibility, with a sympathy equal
to his highest aspirations, and yet with flexibility sufficient to yield to his
stronger will without impairing her own dignity. In this blessed relation
he was permitted to continue for fifty-four years, embracing far more than

354 JOHN ADAMS.

the whole period of his active life ; and it is not too much to say that to
it he was indebted not merely for the domestic happiness which ran so like
a thread of silver through the most troubled currents of his days, but for
the steady and unwavering support of all the highest purposes of his
career. . . . The other extraordinary blessing was the possession of
a son who fulfilled in his career all the most sanguine expectations of a
father. From his earliest youth John Quincy Adams had given symptoms
of uncommon promise, and, contrary to what so frequently happens in
such cases, every year, as it passed over his head, only tended the more
to confirm the hopes that had been raised at the beginning. . . . And
the pleasure was reserved to the father, rarely enjoyed since time began, of
seeing his son gradually forcing his way, by his unaided abilities, up the
steps of the same ascent which he had trod before him, until he reached
the last and highest which his country could supply. . . . And when
this event was fully accomplished, whilst the son was yet in the full enjoy
ment of his great dignity so honorably acquired, it was accorded to the
old patriarch to go to his rest on the day above all other days in the year,
which was the most imperishably associated with his fame. Such things
are not often read of, even in the most gorgeous pictures of mortal felicity
painted in eastern story. They go far to relieve the darker shadows which
fly over the ordinary paths of life, and to hold out the hope that, even
under the present imperfect dispensation, it is not unreasonable to trust
that virtue may sometimes meet with its just reward."

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY LIFE-SERVES IN CONTINENTAL CONGRESS.

THE life of Thomas Jefferson was, in a degree, associated with the birth
and development of a nation. To him who gave to a distracted coun
try that incomparable declaration "that all men are created equal; that they
are endowed by their creator with inherent and inalienable rights; that
among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;" and to those
associated with him, was due the step that at once sundered the bonds which
bound the colonies to the mother country, and prepared a way for progress
from the confederacy of states of 1/76 to the formation and development
of the well-nigh perfect government of a later century. Taking life in hand
as each subscribed his name to that immortal document, he hazarded even
more than death ; should the elements of cohesion between the states, on
which all depended for support in the inevitable contest already begun,
prove inadequate to unity of action, not only would life be forfeited, but
property confiscated, and families relegated to disgrace and ignominy.
With what sublime courage, then, did they risk everything in making
a stand for the rights of all.

Encompassed by perils on every side, clear-headed statesmen were
needed to direct the new ship of state into smooth waters, steering clear of
breakers and rocks on either side, as she threaded the narrow and tortuous
channel that led to the open sea of prosperity. In Thomas Jefferson,
Samuel and John Adams, Patrick Henry, George Washington, Benjamin
Franklin, the Lees, the Randolphs, and all that splendid fellowship that
stood shoulder to shoulder in the fight, were found safe counsellors, pure

3 $6 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

statesmen, unflinching patriots, and men with no ambition that conflicted
with their country's good. No one among them better deserved the honor
of his countrymen than did Thomas Jefferson. No one did more arduous
service in every stage of the contest than did he. With what unwavering
fidelity he served in the legislature of his native state, in the halls of the
Continental Congress, as governor of Virginia, as an ambassador to foreign
courts, and chiefest of all, as the Executive of the republic he had helped
to form, — all this can be but briefly told in these pages.

That Jefferson was a man imperfectly understood by those not person
ally and intimately acquainted with him, is certain. While his life was
spent in the service of his country, and his every effort directed toward her
welfare, men who differed from him regarding the means to be employed,
were unceasing in devices to defeat his plans. By deepest persuasion a
republican, he met the opponents of his views with moderation that
accorded well with the spirit of the man. Never violent in his utterances,
he yet pressed his points with courage and fearlessness, and left a record
that will endure while the union of states shall exist. The spirit of the time
and the environment of this early band of patriots, were calculated to the
highest development of the character of men, and their effect is evinced
in the lives of his contemporaries — lives like his own, marked not less by
honesty and bravery, than by the wonderful wisdom which directed the
infant struggles of their country.

Thomas Jefferson was, by education and natural endowment, fitted to
be a leader in the stirring contests of his time, as he would be pre-eminent
did he live in this era of the world's history. Great intellects then directed
the course of the state, — intellects governing men of principle, with aims
above the measures of party, to which they owed small allegiance. States
men were born and educated to the duties of life, and the cares of orifice
came to them unsought. Men like Washington, Adams, and Jefferson
would scorn to stoop to the petty expedients adopted by the men of to-day
in their greed and ambition for place. They scorned even the use of per
sonal influence in their favor, and were content to abide the verdict of the
people as to their merits. A man the peer of any man, Thomas Jefferson
took the place assigned him by the suffrages of the people, while yet young
in years. Necessarily many of the views and actions of the man, in his well
nigh fifty years' connection with the public service, came under adverse
criticism from those who honestly differed with him, yet time has justified
the wisdom of the greater number of these acts. Of that life, passed amid
the tumults of war, and in the quiet of peace, let what follows tell the story.

The settlement of Virginia was begun at Jamestown, in 1607. Within
a few years isolated communities were gathered at various places, and
during the century that followed the English obtained a strong foothold,
gradually forcing the aborigines toward the mountains by the power of a

EARLY LIFE.

357

superior civilization. It was soon after the close of the first century of
settlement in America — in 1612 — that the first of the Jefferson family
arrived. That the progenitor of the Jeffersons was a person of influence
among his fellows is apparent from the fact that the name occurs in the list
of the twenty-two members of the first general assembly of Virginia, which
met in Jamestown, in the year 1619 — the first legislative body ever con
vened in America. Of the after life of this Jefferson and of his descendants
nothing is known. More than a century later the grandfather of Thomas
Jefferson lived at Osbornes, in Chesterfield county, and there reared a family
consisting of three sons : Thomas, who died young ; Field, who settled on
the waters of the Roanoke and died, leaving numerous descendants ; and
Peter, who settled in Albemarle county, where he made a home which he
called Shadwell, after the parish in England where formerly lived his wife.
Peter Jefferson was born February 29, 1/08, and in 1739 married
Jane, daughter of Isham Randolph, whose ancestors had early settled at
Dungeness, in the county of Goochland, Virginia. Mrs. Jefferson was aged
nineteen at the time of her marriage, was well educated for the time — when
a very simple course of lessons was deemed sufficient for a woman — and was
a fit companion to share the home and life of the energetic Peter Jefferson.
As a young man he was possessed of little more than the rudiments of an
education ; but strong in mind, sound in judgment, and eager in the pur
suit of knowledge, he read and improved himself so that eventually he
became prominent and influential in the province. Some years previous
to his marriage he was chosen, with Joshua Fry, professor of mathe
matics in the college of William and Mary, as a commission to define the
boundary-line between Virginia and North Carolina, which survey had been
begun by Colonel Byrd. So satisfactorily were these duties performed that
the same gentlemen were afterward employed to make the first map of Vir
ginia that had ever been made from definite surveys. No difficulty was
experienced in performing that part of the work to the east of the Blue
Ridge, but the portion to the west of that range was little known and
required weary weeks of travel and unremitting labor to make it in any
respect complete. This work gave him a very correct idea of the topo
graphy and soils of the province, and decided him in the location of a home
on the Rivanna river, a tributary of the James. Here he entered a patent for
one thousand acres of land, his intimate friend, William Randolph, selecting
twenty-four hundred acres adjoining. The land Mr. Jefferson had chosen
possessing no eligible site for a house, he purchased from Mr. Randolph
four hundred acres, the price being, as stated in the deed still in posses
sion of the family, " Henry Weatherbourne's biggest bowl of arrack punch."
On the land thus acquired he built a plain, weather-boarded house, and to
this place brought his bride soon after marriage. They were among the
first to settle in this portion of the country, and were subject to all the

,353 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

inconveniences arising from their isolation. Here they lived six years,
when they removed to the home of Colonel William Randolph, of Tuckahoe,
who on his decease had appointed Peter Jefferson to the guardianship of his
son, Thomas Mann Randolph. To this trust he remained faithful seven
years, then returned to Shadwell, where he died, August 17, 1757, leaving
a widow — who lived until 1776 — with six daughters and two sons.

Peter Jefferson had accumulated a large landed estate, which at his
death \vas apportioned between his two sons, as was the law in those days,
the daughters being left dependent on the generosity of the heirs to the
property. To his younger son he left the estate on the James river, called
Snowdon, after the supposed birth-place of the ancestors of the family, near
the mquntain of that name in Wales. To his oldest son, Thomas Jefferson,
he left the family home of Shadwell.

Thomas Jefferson was born at Shadwell, April 13, 1743. The death of
his father left him, then a youth of fourteen, the owner of a large estate,
beside a considerable number of negro slaves. From his earliest youth he
received careful training, mental as well as physical. When but five years
of age he was placed in the family of Rev. William Douglas, where he
acquired a primary education, and also pursued the study of the Greek,
Latin, and French languages. He inherited from his father that inordinate

o o

thirst for knowledge which he pursued with avidity throughout his busy
career. Returning home on the death of his father, he soon after became
a pupil of Rev. Mr. Maury, an enthusiastic and correct classical scholar.
Under such wise tuition he made good progress, and acquired a taste
for the writings of the ancient philosophers and poets that he retained
during life. Two years were thus spent in the most profitable manner, at
the end of which, in the spring of 1760, when seventeen years of age, he
was enabled to enter the college of William and Mary. He continued in
college two years, and while here it was his good fortune to be brought into
intimate association with Dr. William Small, a learned Scotchman, at that
time professor of mathematics in the college. A mutual attraction drew
these two together, and the time not occupied in the school-room, was
passed in daily companionship. This resulted in giving a broader scope to
the thought of the pupil, enlarged his views, and encouraged him to devote
more time to abstruse and metaphysical studies. From Dr. Small he
obtained his first insight into the realm of science and philosophy. The
chair of philosophy becoming vacant soon after Jefferson entered the col
lege, his friend and teacher was appointed to its duties, and delivered the
first lectures on ethics, rhetoric, and belles-lettres ever given in the institution.
Dr. Small occupied the chair of philosophy barely two years, when he
returned to Scotland, first, however, procuring for his favorite admission to
the law office of George Wythe, who afterwards became chancellor of the
state. Mr. Wythe introduced Jefferson to the acquaintance and friendship

EARLY LIFE. 359

of Governor Fauquier. To the intelligent conversation of these gentlemen
was the young man much indebted for the early impressions that afterward
developed into habits of thought and life, and shaped his career.

At this time Mr. \Vythe was about thirty-five years of age, ardent in
temperament, and with ideas in advance of his time. He early took the
ground that "the only link of political union between the colonies and
Great Britain, was the identity of the executive; that parliament had no
more authority over us than we over them, and that we were co-ordinate
nations with Great Britain and Hanover. " lie was chosen a member of
Congress, and in 1776 signed the Declaration of Independence. It was but
natural that the impressible nature of Jefferson should be infused with the
spirit of his preceptor in la\v. In 1767, under the instruction of Mr. Wythe,
Jefferson was inducted into the legal practice at the bar of the general court,
in which practice he continued until the beginning of hostilities connected
with the Revolution closed all courts of justice. During the period of his
continuous practice of the law he acquired very considerable reputation,
and there still exists a digest of reports of adjudged cases in the higher
courts of Virginia, as a monument to his painstaking care and labor in early
life.

The assiduous stud}* and labor of Jefferson had developed a naturally
strong and vigorous intellect to quick and mature habits of thought, and his
practice in the courts of justice had brought him into intimate acquaintance
with his fellow-citizens of all degrees. So well were all agreed upon his
mental and moral qualifications, that, in 1760, he was called by the count}" in
which he lived, to represent it in the legislature'. In that body he soon
attained prominence, and was recngni/ed as one holding advanced views
upon subjects appertaining to the present and future welfare of the province.
It was while yet a young member of the legislature that he introduced a res
olution providing for the emancipation of slaves, but public opinion was
not educated to look with favor upon a measure that promised to curtail
comfort and ease.

At the time of the promulgation of the stamp act, Mr. Jefferson was a
student at law, and during the discussion of the resolutions of 1765,111
regard to that oppressive measure, from the door of the lobby to the house
of burgesses he listened with rapt attention to the impassioned utterances
of Patrick Henry, which were such words as he never heard from any other
man He said of them : " lie appeared to me to speak as Homer wrote."
That Jefferson was deeply impressed with the injustice of Great Britain
toward the colonies is evident from his own words : "The colonies were
taxed internally and externally ; their essential interests were sacrificed to
individuals in Great Britain; their legislatures suspended; charters annulled;
trials by jury taken away ; their persons subjected to transportation across
the Atlantic, and to trial' by foreign judicatories ; their applications for

360 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

redress thought beneath answer ; themselves published as cowards in the
councils of their mother country and courts of Europe ; armed troops sent
amongst them to enforce submission to these violences ; and actual hostili
ties commenced against them. No alternative was presented but resistance
or unconditional submission. Between these there could be no hesitation.
They closed in the appeal to arms."

In May, 1769, Lord Botetourt, then governor of Virginia, called a
session of the general assembly, of which Jefferson had but lately become a
member. The joint resolutions of the houses of lords and commons on the
proceedings in Massachusetts, were made public in the assembly, and coun
ter resolutions and an address to the king were adopted. The Virginia
assembly espoused the cause of Massachusetts, and was dissolved by the
royal governor. The following day the members met in a public room in
the Raleigh tavern, and formed a voluntary convention ; drew up an agree
ment pledging themselves against the use of any articles of merchandise
imported from Great Britain, and recommended the people to follow the
same course. The convention then adjourned, members repaired to their
respective counties, and were almost unanimously re-elected to the legisla
ture ; the only exceptions being the few that had dissented from the resolu
tions, whose places were filled by men in full sympathy with the cause of
freedom and equal rights.

Following these events a season of apathy pervaded the people
for a number of years. There was still a recognition of the divine right
of the king, and of attachment to the mother country. Great wrongs
were endured before a loyal people was roused to open rebellion against
one they deemed a lawful sovereign. The duty on tea still remained
unrepealed, and the act of parliament declaring the right to bind the col
onies by its laws, in all cases, was suspended over them. The claim by
parliament of the right of sending persons to England for trial for offenses
committed in the colonies, was an act that aroused the people from their
seeming apathy. With no race under the sun are the principles of justice
held in greater veneration than among English-speaking peoples. Virgin
ians were not slow to action in this case, although the serious act of injus
tice in question was committed against another province. The house of
burgesses included many fiery young spirits who would not be held back by
the dilatoriness and lack of enthusiasm of their elders. A few of the
younger members, including Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Richard
Henry Lee, Francis L. Lee, Mr. Carr, and perhaps two or three others,
met one evening in the early part of the session, at a private room in the
Raleigh tavern, to consult on the then existing state of things. It was
unanimously their opinion that an understanding should be reached with the
other colonies in a consideration of the claims of Great Britain, and an uni
form course of action decided upon. Resolutions were drawn calling for a

EARLY LIFE. 361

convention of delegates from all the colonies, and the appointment of a com
mittee of correspondence. These resolutions were presented to the house by
Mr. Carr, brother-in-law of Jefferson, and immediately agreed upon. Peyton
Randolph, the speaker, was appointed chairman of the committee. Upon
knowledge of this action reaching the governor, then Lord Dunmore, he
dissolved the assembly. The committee met the following day, prepared
circular letters to the speakers of the houses in each colony, and copies of
the resolution were forwarded to them by the chairman, by express. At
about the same time the state of Massachusetts prepared similar circular
letters, to be sent to towns within that province, and also to other provinces.

The promulgation of the Boston port bill, closing that port on the
1st of June, 1774, to the entry of all articles of merchandise, combined
with other acts of injustice and oppression, capped the measure of iniquity
proceeding from the government of Great Britain. This measure would
deprive the people of Boston of their trade, and involve many of the citi
zens in utter ruin. The primary cause of its passage lay in the action of
those citizens who had assembled in disguise, boarded two vessels laden with
tea, and cast their cargoes overboard into the bay. The act of retaliation
condemned the entire mercantile interests of Boston to extinction to punish
a few persons. The text of this bill was received in early spring, while the
assembly was yet in session, and excited the sympathies of the members.
The leadership of the house now devolving on the younger members, Pat
rick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, Francis L. Lee, Thomas Jefferson, and
several others, met in the council chamber and determined upon a bold and
unequivocal stand in support of Massachusetts in this emergency. Refer
ence was had to the library contained in this room, for authorities and
precedents in the course they were about to take. No parallel case had
arisen for more than a century, and before entering upon steps that might
result in revolution and war, grave counsel was requisite. It was resolved
that the 1st day of June, the day on which the port bill was to go into
effect, be set apart as a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, "devoutly
to implore the divine interposition, for averting the heavy calamities which
threatened destruction to their civil rights, and the evils of a civil war ; and
to give them one heart and one mind to oppose by all just and proper
means, every injury to American rights." This resolution was offered to
the house the next morning, by Mr. Nicholas, a man of strong religious
convictions, and was passed without opposition.

These proceedings had the effect greatly to exasperate Lord Dunmore,
who a second time dissolved the assembly. The members again met in
their private capacities, and prepared a memorial addressed to the people,
setting forth the unjust course of the governor in thus suppressing the legis
lative power, preventing the taking measures to secure the rights and liber
ties of the province ; and that they believed a systematic effort was being

362 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

made to reduce the inhabitants of the American colonies to a condition of
slavery. An association was formed, and the committee of correspondence
instructed to propose to the similar committees in other colonies, the
appointment of deputies to meet in a general congress, annually, at such
place as should be deemed convenient, to consider the means necessary to
be adopted in the establishment of universal liberty. It was declared that
an attack on any one colony should be deemed an attack on all, and should
constitute cause for definite concerted action. These events took place in
May, 1774, and it was recommended that the several counties of Virginia
elect delegates to meet at Williamsburg August 1st, to consider the state
of affairs in their own colony, and appoint delegates to a general congress,
all which was acceded to. Philadelphia was selected as the place of meeting
for the congress.

The members of the dissolved assembly then returned to their homes,
and invited the clergy to meet with the people on the istof June, in accord
ance with the spirit of the resolution appointing that day as one of prayer
and humiliation. Great anxiety and alarm were manifested at these as
semblies, the people in remote districts, far from the scene of disturbance,
hardly comprehending the necessity for the course taken. The events of
the day aroused them to action, and nearly all accepted the situation, and
entered heartily into the work of preparation. Delegates were selected in
the different counties, Mr. Jefferson being chosen to represent Albemarle.
With the enthusiasm already displayed in resisting the tyranny of Great
Britain, he now entered into the cause, and drew up instructions to be given
delegates to the congress. In these he took the ground "that the relation
between Great Britain and these colonies was exactly the same as that of
England and Scotland after the accession of James, and until the union, and
the same as her present relations with Hanover, having the same executive
chief, but no other necessary political connection ; and that our emigration to
this country gave her no more rights over us, than the emigrations of the
Danes and Saxons gave to the present authorities of the mother country over
England." Two copies of these instructions were made, one of which he
caused to be sent to Patrick Henry, the other under cover to Peyton Ran
dolph, who was chairman of the convention. Mr. Jefferson himself set out
to attend the debate, but was taken quite ill while on the way, and was unable
to proceed. Mr. Henry was not much disposed toward reading, and if he
ever perused the copy sent him gave no evidence of it, and never mentioned
the matter to the author. Mr. Randolph announced to the convention that
he had received such a communication from a member who was detained by
sickness, and laid the document on the table, whence it was taken and read
by many members, approved by some, and thought too bold and aggressive
by others. The Lees, Randolph, Nicholas, Pendleton, and Dickinson
believed England possessed the right to regulate commerce, and impose

SERVES IN THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 36$

duties for its regulation, but not for the purpose of revenue. Mr. Jefferson
held no foundation existed for such claim, expatriation being a natural right,
not to be interfered with. Although many differed with the views taken by
the author, the document was published by the convention under the title :
A Summary View of the Rights of British America. The authorship of
this pamphlet was boldly avouched by Mr. Jefferson, who was thereupon
threatened by Lord Dunmore with arrest and trial for high treason. Copies
found their way to England, where the matter was taken up by the opposi
tion. Edmund Burke changed its meaning to answer his purpose, and
several editions were printed, which had a large circulation. It had the
effect to include the name of Thomas Jefferson, together with those of
Hancock, John and Samuel Adams, Peyton Randolph, Patrick Henry, and
others to the number of a score or more, in a bill of attainder introduced
into one of the houses of parliament, but which subsequent events caused
to be dropped.

The convention assembled the 1st of August, renewed the association,
appointed delegates to the congress, and gave them very temperate instruc
tions, carefully worded, defining the part they were to take. The action of
the convention in framing more moderate instructions to the delegates to
the congress received Mr. Jefferson's cordial approval, afterthought convinc
ing him that his draft, hastily written, was too far in advance of public sen
timent at the time. The delegates appointed by the convention were Peyton
Randolph, Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry,
Richard Bland, Benjamin Harrison, and Kdwurd Pendleton. The congress
met on the 1st of September, ami remained in session until the 26th of
October, at which time it adjourned to meet again on the loth of May
following.

The Virginia convention, which was now thoroughly organized, met
again in March, 1775, approved the action of its delegates to the Colonial
Congress, and re-appointed them for the Ma}* session. It being probable
that Mr. Randolph would be called from the chair in Congress to attend
the general assembly, Mr. Jefferson was appointed his alternate.

The general assembly, convened by Lord Dunmore in June, 1775, was
called for the purpose of receiving the proposals of Lord North, looking to
a peaceable settlement of the questions at issue. As was expected, Mr.
Randolph attended, as speaker of the house, and, fearing the sentiments
and wishes of Congress might not harmonize with the resolutions proposed
in assembly, he requested Mr. Jefferson to prepare an answer to the proposi
tion of Lord North. This answer was presented to the assembly, and,
though it was severely condemned by some of the members who were fav
orable to the cause of the king, it was, after a few minor amendments, almost
unanimously passed. The powerful influence of the speaker, and of Mr.
Jefferson himself, had much to do in procuring its passage. Immediately

364 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

after action had been taken on this question, Jefferson repaired to Philadel
phia, and conveyed to Congress the first intimation of the reply made by
the Virginia assembly to the proposition for a peaceable settlement. This
was entirely approved by Congress. On the 2ist of June, Mr. Jefferson
took his seat in that body. On the 24th the report of a committee
appointed to give cause for the taking up of arms, was presented, but, prov
ing unsatisfactory, was not accepted. The committee was continued, Mr.
Jefferson and Mr. Dickinson being added to its number. Several drafts had
been submitted in the committee. The first, by Mr. Lee, was disapproved
and re-committed. The second was drawn by John Jay, and, though
accepted in the committee, was disapproved by the house. Mr. Jefferson
drew the next resolution, which proved too strong for Mr. Dickinson, who
was still in hope of a reconciliation. He was, therefore, requested to pre
pare a resolution, which the committee accepted, and the Congress
approved, though it did not at all meet the views of most of the members;
yet, out of respect to Mr. Dickinson, who was an able, if a too scrupulous
man, it was adopted. It was couched in a humble tone of submission that
ill accorded with the spirit of men stung to the quick by the unprovoked
and unmerited oppression of the crown.

The proposition of Lord North was not submitted to a committee
until the 22d of July, at which time Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Richard
Henry Lee, and Thomas Jefferson were appointed to take it under advise
ment. The reply of the Virginia assembly had been approved, and by
request of the other members of the committee Mr. Jefferson prepared a
report on the subject, to be presented to the Congress. As a consequence
there was much similarity between the two reports.

On the nth of August Mr. Jefferson was elected delegate to the third
Congress, and during the following winter took an active part in its delibera
tions. The opening of the year 1776 showed a change in the minds of
many of the political leaders. There had been a feeling of hope that some
settlement might be attained that would not change the existing system.
A strong feeling of attachment to old institutions had a hold on many,
and was about to be expelled. A year and a half had passed since the first
open manifestation of resistance to oppression, and since the erection
of entrenchments about Boston conveyed to the colonists the knowl
edge that England was determined on coercive measures to reduce them
to subjection. The battles of Concord and Lexington had been fought,
privateers had been equipped and naval engagements had taken place. A
spirit of action now began to pervade all classes, from the lowest to the
highest, and stronger means of defense were called for. The colonies were
still bound to the mother country by ties that seemed almost indissoluble.
Yet a change was coming. Already the first notes were heard in the air.
The influence of men like Samuel Adams, John Hancock, John Jay, Patrick

SERVES IN THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 36$

Henry, Thomas Jefferson, and many others of equal calibre, was felt for
independence. Every course but sundering the ties that bound the country
to Great Britain had been employed in vain. A decided stand must soon
be taken, the bonds broken, a leap made for the life or death of a nation.
The result of the struggle depended on immediate action. No more com
promise with stern necessity could be employed. Action took the place of
lethargy. The subject of a declaration of independence was in every man's
thought, and was discussed from every point. The colonial assemblies
reviewed the situation, and that of Virginia declared for an immediate with
drawal from allegiance to the crown, henceforth and forever. Jefferson's
whole soul was engaged in the struggle. His was a mind in many cases in
advance of the times. While everything received careful consideration, and
with him was viewed from all points, it was well that the counsel of others,
no abler than he, and not so progressive, was invoked. Thoroughly imbued
with the character and principles of a statesman, and fitted as he was by
education and natural ability for leadership in a grand cause, he now pushed
forward, aiming not for personal aggrandizement but for the good of the
country of which he was a citizen.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

CHAPTER II.

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE— SERVICE IN STATE LEGISLATURE.

ON the 1 5th of May, 1776, the delegates of Virginia in the Congress
were instructed to propose a declaration that the colonies be inde
pendent of the dominion of Great Britain. On June 7th the delegates com
plied with their instructions, but other business being before the Congress,
the subject was laid over until another day. On Saturday, June 8th, it was
taken into consideration, the house resolving itself into a committee of the
whole for discussion. Two days were devoted to the question, in which was
developed the fact that certain of the delegates, though friends to the meas
ure, and believing it impossible again to unite with Great Britain, were
themselves opposed to immediate action. Besides, the provinces of New
York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and South Carolina,
were not yet ripe for such declaration, and had not so advised their dele
gates. It was therefore thought prudent to postpone a final decision until
July ist. That there might be as little delay as possible, a committee, con
sisting of John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, Robert R.
Livingston, and Thomas Jefferson, was appointed to prepare a declaration
of independence.

At this time the provinces had not confederated ; some had instructed
their delegates to take no part in such declaration, and to precipitate the
question would cause such to withdraw from the Congress, while hasty action
might turn them against the formation of a union. Under these circum
stances prudent counsels were advisable. Very many considerations were
to be weighed. It might be that England would cede Canada to France to
secure her assistance or neutrality ; Spain had reason to fear the growing
power of the American colonies, and might enter into treaty with England
to preserve her southern possessions. The promulgation of a declaration
of independence might precipitate ruin and death upon every member con
cerned, and consign his family to poverty and contumely. With all these

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 367

adverse influences to face, the men who boldly determined on carrying
through their resolution, come what would, have never received the honor
that is justly their due.

The original manuscript of the document prepared was wholly in the
handwriting of Mr. Jefferson, who had in several places erased and interlined
with the object of making it plain and directly to the point. Other correc
tions and changes were made by Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams, before the
declaration was adopted. The signing of the declaration of independence
was accomplished July 4, 1776, every member taking part in the proceed
ings affixing his name, with one exception. The person declining to sign
the document was Mr. Dickinson.

In a letter to Samuel A. Wells, bearing date May 12, 1819, Mr. Jeffer
son gives his recollections of the incidents preceding and attending the
signing of the declaration, taken from notes, prepared by himself during
the discussion, and fully written out on the conclusion of the convention.
He says:

" Friday, June 7th. — The delegates from Virginia moved, in obedience
to instructions from their constituents, that the Congress should declare
that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and indepen
dent 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 ; that measures should be immediately
taken for procuring the assistance of foreign powers, and a confederation be
formed to bind the colonies more closely together. The house being
obliged to attend at that time to some other business, the proposition was
referred to the next day, when the members were ordered to attend punc
tually at 10 o'clock. Saturday, June 8th, they proceeded to take it into
consideration, and referred it to a committee of the whole, into which they
immediately resolved themselves, and passed that day in debate. It appear
ing in the course of these debates, that the colonies of New York, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and South Carolina, were not
yet matured for falling from the parent stem, but that they were fast advanc
ing to that state, it was thought most prudent to wait awhile for them, and
to postpone the final decision to July 1st. But that this might occasion
as little delay as possible, a committee was appointed to prepare a declara
tion of independence. The committee were John Adams, Dr. Franklin,
Roger Sherman, Robert R. Livingston, and Thomas Jefferson. This was
reported to the house on Friday, the 28th of June, when it was read and
ordered to lie on the table. On Monday, the 1st of July, the house resolved
itself into a committee of the whole, ana resumed the consideration of the
original motion made by the delegates of Virginia, which, being again
debated through the day, was carried in the affirmative by the votes of New
Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, Mary-

368 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

land, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia. South Carolina and Pennsyl
vania voted against it. Delaware had but two members present, and they
were divided. The delegates from New York declared they were for it
themselves, and were assured their constituents were for it ; but that their
instructions having been drawn near a twelvemonth before, when reconcilia
tion was still the general object, they were enjoined by them to do nothing
which should impede that object. They, therefore, thought themselves not
justifiable in voting on either side, and asked leave to withdraw from the
question, which was given them. The committee rose and reported their
resolutions to the house. Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, then requested
the determination might be put off to the next day, as he believed his col
leagues, though they disapproved of the resolution, would then join in L
for the sake of unanimity. The ultimate question, whether the house
would agree to the resolution of the committee, was accordingly postponed
to the next day, when it was again moved, and South Carolina concurred in
voting for it. In the meantime a third member had come fresh from the
Delaware counties, and turned the vote of that colony in favor of the reso
lution. Members of a different sentiment attending that morning from
Pennsylvania, also, her vote was changed ; so that the whole twelve colo
nies, who were authorized to vote at all, gave their votes for ; and within a
few days the convention of New York approved of it, and this supplied the
void occasioned by the withdrawing of their delegates from the vote."

This vote was on the original motion made by the delegates from Vir
ginia, on the /th of June, that Congress should declare the colonies inde
pendent, and no longer under allegiance to Great Britain.

' ' Congress proceeded, the same day, to consider the declaration of
independence, which had been reported and laid on the table the Friday
preceding, and on Monday referred to a committee of the whole. The
pusilanimous idea, that we had friends in England worth keeping terms
with, still haunted the minds of many. For this reason, those passages
which conveyed censures on the people of England were struck out, lest
they should give them offence. The debates having taken up the greater
part of the second, third, and fourth days of July, were, in the evening of
the last, closed ; the declaration was reported by the committee, agreed to
by the house, and signed by every member present except Mr. Dick
inson."

Thus far Mr. Jefferson's notes extended. The following was written
from his memory of the further events connected with this memorable
episode :

"The subsequent signatures of members who were not then present,
and some of them not yet in office, is easily explained, if we observe who
they were, to wit: that they were of New York and Pennsylvania. New
York did not sign till the 15th, because it was not until the pth (five days

1-ltMl XI) KANIHH.I'H.

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 369

after the general signatures), that their convention authorized them to do
so. The convention of Philadelphia, learning that it had been signed by a
minority only of their delegates, named a new delegation on the 2oth, leav
ing out Mr. Dickinson, who had refused to sign, Willing and Humphreys,
who had withdrawn, re-appointing the three members who had signed,
Morris, who had not been present, and five new ones, to wit : Rush, Cly-
mer, Smith, Taylor, and Ross: and Morris, and the five new members
were permitted to sign, because it manifested the assent of their full delega
tion, and the express will of their convention, which might have been
doubted on the former signature of a minority only. Why the signature of
Thornton, of New Hampshire, was permitted so late as the 4th of Novem
ber, I cannot now say; but undoubtedly for some particular reason, which
we should find to have been good, had it been expressed. These were the
only post-signers, and you see, sir, that there were solid reasons for receiv
ing those of New York and Pennsylvania, and that this circumstance in no
wise affects the faith of this declaratory charter of our rights, and of the
rights of man. "

To Richard Henry Lee, who, with Washington and Patrick Henry,
represented the province of Virginia in the first continental Congress,
belonged the right of preparing the draft of the declaration of indepen
dence. Virginia instructed her delegates at the session held in September,
J/ZS' ^0 present a resolution declaring the colonies independent of England.
On the /th of June, 1776, Mr. Lee moved "That these United Colonies
are, and of right ought to be, free ami independent states ; that they are
absolved from all allegiance to the British crown ; and that all political con
nection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be,
totally dissolved." Before the subject had been fully discussed and action
taken, Mr. Lee was called to his home by the dangerous illness of some
members of his family. When the committee was appointed to frame a
declaration of independence, to Thomas Jefferson, as its chairman, was
accorded that honor. Immediately after the passage of that act, Jefferson
sent a letter to Mr. Lee, of which the following is an extract :

" For news, I refer you to your brother, who writes on that head. I
inclose you a copy of the Declaration of Independence, as agreed to by
the house, and also as originally framed. You will judge whether it is the
better or worse for the critics."

On Friday, July I2th, the committee appointed to draft articles of
confederation, reported. Debate began on the 22d, and continued from
time to time for two years, final ratification by ten states being made July
9, 1778. New Jersey followed November 26th, and Delaware the 23d ol
February, 1779. Maryland did not accept the articles until March I, 1781.

Mr. Jefferson was returned as delegate to the Congress which met
August 1 1, 1781, and occupied his place until September 2d, following, when

37O THOMAS JEFFERSON.

he resigned to accept a seat in the Virginia legislature. The new govern
ment had become thoroughly settled, and questions he deemed of paramount
importance would come before the legislature of his native state. An entire
revision of the laws framed under the royal government, and which were not
adapted to a republic, was demanded. To this subject he now devoted his
energies. The legislature met, and on the 7th of October he was in his seat.
On the nth he moved a bill for the establishment of courts of justice, which
were imperatively needed. The motion was adopted, and Mr. Jefferson
drew up the bill for their organization, which was reported from the com
mittee, and passed in due course. On the I2th he presented a bill for the
abolishment of the system of entail, as tending to the manifest injury of
younger children of a few aristocratic families. In effecting this, no injury,
no violence, and no deprivation of natural rights would ensue. The bill
was combated by friends of the system of aristocracy, who did not wish
to see it abolished, and when it was found that the feeling of the house
was in favor of the passage of such act, an effort was made so to change its
provisions, that instead of positive abolition the tenant in tail might convey
it in fee simple if he chose so to do. But the bill for total abolition finally
passed.

The first importation of slaves into America, was made by a Dutch ship
in 1619. Efforts were, at various times thereafter, made by different per
sons, for the prohibition of the slave trade, but without avail, as the crown
and ministry found in it a profitable business. The war of the Revolution,
however, barred further importation for a time, and in 1778 Mr. Jefferson
introduced a bill prohibiting such importation in the future, which measure
was passed.

The established church was the next system Mr. Jefferson attacked.
Virginia had been settled by loyal adherents of king and church, and it
was but natural that the religious forms of England should prevail. The
grant to Sir Walter Raleigh expressly provided that the laws of the
colony "should not be against the true Christian faith, now professed in
the Church of England." Immediately the colony was able to support
a clergy, the province was divided into parishes, each with its minister
of the Church of England. A regular stipend was allowed the minister,
to be paid in the products of the country, principally tobacco. A parson
age was also furnished, and all the inhabitants were taxed alike for support
of the church, whether members of the faith or not. Great intolerance was
shown Quakers, whose property was taken from them and they driven from
the colony under pain of the enforcement of severe penalties. Gradually
other sects gained a foothold, the Presbyterians becoming strong through
the eloquence and zeal of their preachers, while the Episcopalians dwin
dled in number. The ministers of the latter, secure in their place, devoted
Sunday only to the instruction of the people, spending the week in their

SERVICE IX STATE LEGISLATURE. 37!

schools and on their farms, accumulating such substance as they could,
while the despised sectaries were garnering the members of their flocks.
In time the Presbyterian greatly outnumbered the established church, but
the system of taxation was continued, to their manifest injustice and the
emolument of the regular institution. The first session of the legislature
in 1776 brought many petitions for the abolition of this spiritual tyranny.
Mr. Jefferson had been brought up a Presbyterian, and took an active and
decided part in the discussion of this subject. The petitions were referred
to a committee of the whole on the discussion of the state of the country.
Debate continued almost uninterruptedly from the iith of October until
December 5th, when the opposition achieved a partial victory. They were
able only " to repeal the laws which rendered criminal the maintenance of
any religious opinions, the forbearance of repairing to church, or the exer
cise of any mode of worship ; and further to exempt dissenters from con
tributions to the support of the established church ; and to suspend, only
until the next session, levies on the members of that church for the salaries
of their own incumbents." On the iQth of November a resolution was
carried by the house, a majority of whose members were favorable to the
established church, " that provision ought to be made for continuing the
succession of the clergy and superintending their conduct."

The capital of the provincial government of Virginia was originally
established at Jamestown. It was later removed to Williamsburg, where it
remained until sometime in 1779, wllcn a bill for its removal to Richmond,
which had been introduced by Mr. Jefferson in 1776, was passed. Wil
liamsburg is situated between two rivers, up either of which an enemy
might come, and by landing a force above the town, capture the archives
of government before a possibility of this removal.

Immediately on the disorganization of the colonial system, in May,
1776, the convention of Virginia at Williamsburg entered upon the forma
tion of a new government. Hut short time was taken in perfecting a con
stitution, which was adopted with unseemly haste, in June. Mr. Jefferson
was at this time a delegate in Congress at Philadelphia. lie had long fore
seen the result of the contest between the people and the royal government,
and had devoted much time to the formation of a plan of government to
take its place. When this \vas completed he forwarded it to the convention
at Williamsburg by an express. Action had already been taken on the
constitution first proposed, but the convention unanimously adopted the
preamble prepared by Mr. Jefferson. It was thought best, as the members
were wearied by protracted sessions, to adhere to the plan adopted, which
would answer for the time being, although it was acknowledged on all hands
to be imperfect.

During the summer of this year Mr. Jefferson was called to his home
by matters demanding his personal attention. In his absence he was

372 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

appointed by Congress, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane, a
commissioner to France, for the purpose of forming treaties of alliance and
commerce. He was at this time suffering ill health, and that, together with
other matters, including the embarrassed condition of the country, caused
him to decline the appointment, in a letter to Congress, dated October I ith.
Early in the legislative session of 1776, Mr. Jefferson presented a bill
for the general revision of the laws, which was passed October 24th. On
the 5th of November a committee, consisting of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Pendle-
ton, Mr. Wythe, George Mason, and Thomas L. Lee, was appointed to
make such revision. On the 1 3th of January the committee met at Fred-
ericksburg, to decide on a plan of operations, and a division of the work.
Mr. Mason soon after resigned, and Mr. Lee died, leaving the remaining
three members of the committee to proceed with the work. To Mr. Jeffer
son was assigned the common law and statutes to the time separate legisla
tures were established. The British statutes from that date to the change
from colonial to state government, and the Virginia laws were assigned to
Mr. Pendleton. In this division of labor Mr. Jefferson had charge of the
preparation of the law of descents and criminal law. The final judgment
of the committee was that the law of primogeniture be abolished, and that
real estate be subject to division among all heirs. On the subject of the
criminal law all were agreed that the death penalty should be abolished,
except for treason and murder ; for other felonies hard labor on public works
was substituted. The committee entered with spirit into the work, which
was not completed until 1779, when a meeting was had and every section
read, sentence by sentence, 'amended, and revised. Copies were then made
and the drafts presented to the general assembly June 1 8, 1779. A total of
one hundred and twenty-six bills was presented. Certain of these bills
were taken up from time to time, but the majority were not acted upon
until 1785, after the termination of the war. By request of the other
members of the committee, Mr. Jefferson was given charge of the acts of
assembly concerning the college of William and Mary, which were included
in the portion of the work assigned to Mr. Pendleton. Mr. Jefferson had
given much attention to the subject of education, and his appointment to
this portion of the work of revision, was peculiarly appropriate. He pre
pared three bills for the revisal, proposing three distinct grades of education :
elementary schools for all children, rich and poor alike; colleges, affording a
degree of education adapted to the common purposes of life; and a grade
for teaching the sciences generally in the highest degree. But a portion of
this bill, that relating to elementary education, was acted upon, and this
was so amended as to leave each county to determine for itself when
the act should take effect. One provision of the bill was, that all should be
taxed alike to support the public school system. This would throw the
greater burden on the rich, who cared nothing for these schools, they mak-

SERVICE IX STATE LEGISLATURE. 373

ing other provision for the education of their children. As a consequence
the bill became inoperative, those who were to decide when it should go into
effect entirely ignoring it.

The bill on the subject of slavery was a digest of existing laws, it
being thought best to insert nothing looking toward emancipation, but
leave that subject to be provided for by amendment to the bill when it
should be brought up for adoption. Mr. Jefferson was an original aboli
tionist, or if not strictly an abolitionist, an earnest believer in the self-evident
truth that all men are born equal and universally entitled to freedom. In
discussing this bill he said : -" Hut it was found that the public mind would
not yet bear the proposition [that is, a plan for a future and general emanci
pation], nor will they bear it at this day [iS2i]. Vet the day is not distant
when the\' must bear and adopt it, or worse will follow. Nothing is more
certainly written in the book of fate, than that these people are to be free;
nor is it less certain that the two races, equally free, cannot live in the same
government. Nature, habit, opinion, have drawn indelible lines of distinc
tion between them. It is still in our power to direct the process of emanci
pation and deportation, peaceably and in such slow degree, as that the evil
will wear off insensibly, and their place be pari passu, filled up by free white
laborers. If, on the contrary, it is left to force itself on, human nature
must shudder at the prospect held up. \Ve should in vain look for an
example in the Spanish deportation or delation of the Moors. This prece
dent would fall far short of our case."

Touching laws regulating the officers of the state, he says he "con
sidered four of these bills, passed or reported, as forming a system by which
ever\r fibre would be eradicted of ancient or future aristocracy; and a
foundation laid for a government purely republican. The repeal of the laws
of entail would prevent the accumulation and perpetuation of wealth, in
select families, and preserve the soil of the country from being daily more
and more absorbed in mortmain. The abolition of primogeniture, and
equal partition of inheritance, removed the feudal and unnatural distinction,
which made one member of ever}- family rich, and all the rest poor, substi
tuting equal partition, the best of all agrarian laws. The restoration of the
rights of conscience relieved the people from the taxation for the support of
a religion not theirs; for the establishment was truly of the religion of the
rich, the dissenting sects being entire!}' composed of the less wealthy people;
and these, by the bill for a general education, would be qualified to under
stand their rights, to maintain them, and to exercise with intelligence their
parts in self government ; and all this would be effected, without the viola
tion of a single natural right of an}' one individual citizen. To these, too,
might be added, as a further security, the introduction of a trial by jury,
into the chancery courts, which have already ingulfed, and continue to
ingulf, so great a proportion of the jurisdiction over our property."

374 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

The surrender of the army under General Burgoyne, at Saratoga, Octo
ber 17, 1777, resulted in the capture of a large number of prisoners of war,
many of them being the Hessian troops under General de Riedesel. A por
tion of these were removed to Albemarle county, in 1779, and were detained
near the residence of Mr. Jefferson, who won the hearty good will of both
officers and men, by the many acts of kindness shown them. The officers
were frequently guests at his table, and on their release testified their appre
ciation of his kindness.

ELECTED GOVERNOR.

CHAPTER III.

ELECTED GOVERNOR-AGAIN IN CONGRESS-ACCEPTS A FOREIGN MISSION.

ON the 1st of June, 17/9, the term of Patrick Henry, the first gover
nor of Virginia after the formation of the confederation, expired.
Mr. Jefferson was elected to succeed him in that office, and resigned his seat
in the legislature, where he had done invaluable work for the state in fram
ing the most beneficial changes in her code of laws. He was also about
this time elected one of the visitors to the college of William and Mary,
and during his residence in Williamsburg that year, was instrumental in
effecting a change in the organization of the institution, abolishing the
grammar school, and doing away with two professorships, those of divinity
and oriental languages, and substituting in their stead the chairs of law and
police, anatomy, medicine, and chemistry, and modern languages. Addi
tions were made to the duties of the professor of moral philosophy, requir
ing him to teach the law of nature and nations, and the fine arts ; to the
duties of the professor of mathematics and natural philosophy, was added
instruction in natural history.

At this time the duties of the executive were arduous and difficult.
The British government had inflicted great barbarities on prisoners who
were so unfortunate as to fall into its hands. A system of retaliation was
inaugurated by Mr. Jefferson, which, for the tirrte. had the effect of increas
ing the rigorous treatment, particular!}' against the troops of Virginia.
Persistence in this course taught the British government a lesson in humanity
that they had failed to appreciate and had the effect to ameliorate the con
dition of the American prisoners in their hands. The}' were thereafter con
strained to follow more closely the laws of civilized warfare.

In the spring of 1780 Virginia became the scene of actual hostilities.
Heretofore she had escaped much of the terror and devastation of war.
The bold Tarleton invaded the southern part of the state, committing many
atrocities, burning and pillaging the country, and forcing the inhabitants to

37$ THOMAS JEFFERSON,

flee to the mountains for refuge. Following him came the main army under
Lord Cornwallis. The state was in poor condition for defense, but troops
were raised, munitions of war provided, lines of communication established,
and every possible effort made to drive him back. Mr, Jefferson had no
military training, but as governor of the state the legislature conferred on
him extraordinary powers commensurate with the occasion. Troops were
speedily sent to resist Cornwallis. At the same time a new danger menaced
the commonwealth. The traitor Arnold, knowing the defenseless condition
of the sea coast and borders of Virginia, planned an invasion from that direc
tion. He set sail from New York with sixteen hundred men and several
armed vessels, ascended the James river and debarked fifteen miles below
Richmond. The state militia had already been called out and placed under
command of General Nelson, at Williamsburgh. The capital was entirely
defenseless. All available troops and arms had been sent to resist Cornwallis.
About two hundred men were collected, armed with such weapons as could
be hastily gathered, and placed under command of Baron Steuben, who was
instructed to delay the enemy until the public records be removed to a
place of safety. Mr. Jefferson superintended this work until the enemy
had nearly surrounded the place and had actually entered the lower part
of town. The governor believed that Arnold might be captured by the
exercise of strategy and skill, and found men of nerve and daring to make
the attempt, but he was careful to avoid exposing his person and all efforts
to effect his capture by this plan failed. A bolder move was then decided
upon. Mr. Jefferson communicated with General Washington and the
French fleet, and received from both the promise of active co-operation.
It was believed that vessels from the fleet could blockade the mouth of the
river and cut off his escape by sea, at the same time that a large body of
troops prevented his retreat across the country. On the 8th of March Mr.
Jefferson wrote to Washington regarding this plan : " \Ve have made on our
part every preparation which we were able to make. The militia proposed
to operate will be upwards of four thousand from this state, and one thou
sand or twelve hundred from Carolina, said to be under General Gregory,
The enemy are at this time, in a great measure blockaded by land, there
being a force on the east side of Flizabeth river. They suffer for pro
visions, as they are afraid to venture far, lest the French squadron should
be in the neighborhood and come upon them. Were it possible to block up
the river a little time would suffice to reduce them by want and desertions ;
and would be more sure in its event than any attempt by storm." These
plans were defeated, however, by the inopportune arrival at the Chesapeake
of a British force equal to if not the superior of the French fleet, by which
the latter were driven back and Arnold made his way in safety to the sea.

Disasters, however, were not yet at an end. Arnold had no sooner
escaped than Cornwallis entered the state on the south. The sole depen-

ELECTED GOVERNOR. 377

dence to repel him consisted of the militia, and they were not fully
equipped, there being great scarcity of arms, ammunition, and camp neces
saries. Every means at his command was utilized by the governor. There
was, in the state, a number of regular officers, who had been deprived of
their commands by the consolidation of Continental regiments, caused by
lack of men. These he called upon, at the same time making a draft of all
the able-bodied men available. With the addition of some few old soldiers,
whose term of service had expired, the militia, under experienced leaders,
soon made a respectable appearance. Most of the drafted men were placed
in the regular regiments, and, with considerable numbers of the militia, were
sent to the south. A considerable force of cavalry was mounted through
an expedient of Mr. Jefferson. He communicated with some influential
person, usually a member of the legislature, in each count}', soliciting his
aid in purchasing horses, using for that purpose the paper money of the
state. By this means enough animals were secured to mount a larger force
than was deemed necessary for the emergency, and the residue was dis
patched to the aid of the Carolinas. Virginia was, by this time, menaced
on every side, and utterly unable to keep back the forces of the enemy.

On the 2cl of June, ijSi, the term for which Mr. Jefferson was elected
governor expired, and he retired to his home at Monticello. Two days
after his arrival, the Hritish raider, Tarleton, suddenly left the main army
and directed his course to Charlottesvillc for the purpose of capturing the
legislature, in session at that place. Information of his movements was
brought in time .to allow the members to escape, and at the same time
a messenger was dispatched to Monticello, but a short distance away, to
inform Mr. Jefferson. His family was breakfasting with some friends, but
finished the meal without undue haste, entered the carriage, which had
been ordered, and was conveyed to the house of a friend. Mr. Jefferson
remained some time longer, to secure valuable papers from destruction.
While he was attending to this matter a neighbor rode rapidly up and
informed him that a body of horsemen was at that moment ascending the
hill. He soon mounted his horse, and, taking a course through the woods,
made his way to the place where his family was, and remained until danger
was past. Had not Tarleton's men spent valuable time in wanton acts of
destruction, they must surely have captured the entire state legislature, as
well as the ex-governor. As it was, their cupidity prevented the accom
plishment of the object sought.

The legislature next met at Staunton, where several new members were
received. Among them was Mr. George Nicholas, who had not been pres
ent at Richmond at the time of Arnold's invasion, and was unacquainted
with the measures. taken by Governor Jefferson to protect the public prop
erty. In his view the governor had been remiss in his duties; he accord
ingly called for an investigation into his conduct on that occasion. To this

378 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

neither Mr. Jefferson nor his friends interposed any objection. The subject
was postponed until the next session of the legislature, before the meeting
of which the member from Mr. Jefferson's county resigned, and he was
unanimously elected to the vacant seat. When the subject of investigation
was brought up, however, Mr. Nicholas promptly arose in his seat, and
stated that he had been misinformed in regard to Mr. Jefferson's conduct at
the time referred to, and declined to proceed in the case. Mr. Jefferson
then arose and made a complete statement of the subject, recapitulating the
charges, and completely exonerating himself from blame. On the conclu
sion of his remarks the house unanimously adopted the following reso
lution :

"Resolved, That the sincere thanks of the general assembly be given to
our former governor, Thomas Jefferson, for his impartial, upright, and
attentive administration whilst in office. The assembly wish in the strong
est manner to declare the high opinion they entertain of Mr. Jefferson's
ability, rectitude, and integrity, as chief magistrate of this commonwealth,
and mean by thus publicly avowing their opinion, to obviate and remove all
unmerited censure."

On the last day of September, 1776, Mr. Jefferson was appointed, in
conjunction with Dr. Franklin, an ambassador to France, to negotiate treat
ies of alliance and commerce with that government. Silas Deane was at
that time agent of the colonies for the purchase of military stores, and was
added to the commission. At the time the family of Mr. Jefferson was so
situated that he could not well leave it, his wife being an invalid, with
two small children to care for. He also felt that his services were needed
in forming the new government and getting it settled into satisfactory work
ing order. He therefore declined the mission, and Mr. Lee was appointed
in his stead.

Again, on the I5th of June, 1781, he was appointed, with Mr. Adams,
Dr. Franklin, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Laurens, minister plenipotentiary for nego
tiating peace through the mediation of the Empress of Russia. The same
reasons as before, prevented his becoming a member of this commission,
which finally accomplished nothing. In the fall of 1782 the appointment
was renewed, Congress having assurances that peace could be obtained.
Mrs. Jefferson had died during the summer, and his home being thus dis
rupted, he accepted the appointment, and on the ipth of December left
Monticello for Philadelphia, to make preparations for the journey. The
French minister offered him the frigate Romulus, which was at that time
lying in the river below Baltimore, locked in by ice. He therefore
remained in Philadelphia a month, awaiting her release, in the meantime
consulting state papers. He then departed for Baltimore, where another
month was passed awaiting the breaking up of the river At this time
news was received that a provisional treaty of peace had been signed,

AGAIN IN CONGRESS. 379

which would become operative upon the conclusion of a treaty between
France and England. Considering that his services would not be required
on this mission he returned to Philadelphia, and Congress excusing him
from the office of commissioner, he departed for Monticello, where he
arrived May I5th.

On the 6th of June, 1/83, he was elected by the legislature delegate to
the Congress, which met in November at Trenton. In that body he took
his seat on the 4th, and Congress immediately adjourned to meet at Annap
olis the 26th. The number of delegates had now become very small, many
being so remiss in their duties that it was frequently impossible to secure a
quorum, and it was not until the I3th of December that the business of
legislation began.

The definitive treaty of peace with Great Britain was signed at Paris, in
September, 1/83, and forwarded to Congress for ratification. But seven
states were represented at the time of its receipt, and the vote of nine being
required for ratification, nothing could be done until the dilatory members
assembled. December 23d an urgent request was sent to the governors of
all the states, making known the terms of the treaty, and requesting the
immediate attendance of members. On the 26th of the same month Mr.
Jefferson moved that the agent of marine, Robert Morn's, be instructed t~>
have three vessels in readiness to convey copies of the ratification with all
speed to the French court, as soon as the treaty should be affirmed. Some
members were of opinion that seven states could ratify the treat}', and
the motion was postponed. Immediate discussion of the proposition was
entered upon, and was continued for many days. A vessel was to sail from
Annapolis, on the 5th of January, and the Congress passed a resolution
instructing its presiding officer to write to the ministers that but seven states
were yet assembled, and these unanimously ratified the treat}-. On the
I4th of January the delegates from Connecticut and South Carolina pre
sented themselves, the treat}* was signed without dissent, and three copies
were made, one to be conveyed by Colonel Ilarmer, one by Colonel Franks,
and the third to be forwarded by Mr. Morris, on the first opportunity
presented.

In January, 1/84, Congress had turned its attention to the devising
a system of finance, and had directed the financier, Robert Morris, to pre
pare a table containing the ratio of value of foreign coin. His secretary,
Gouverneur Morris, prepared the requisite statement, at the same time sub
mitting a plan for adoption of a monetary unit for a universal system to be
accepted by all the states. His plan was to adopt a decimal system, founded
on a unit, representing a penny, which would be a common measure for
every state, without leaving a fraction. This common unit he found to be
I-i44Oth of a dollar, or i-i6ooth of the crown sterling. This would make
the dollar consist of 1440 units, and the crown 1600; each unit containing a

380 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

quarter grain of silver. The proposal of the financier was submitted to
Congress, and, after lying over until the following year, was referred to a
committee, of which Mr. Jefferson was a member. He made some notes
on the subject, and submitted them to Mr. Morris, who replied, agreeing to
enlarge the unit so that a dollar should be 14 4O-iooth, and the crown 16
units. Mr. Jefferson then caused his note to be printed, together with Mr.
Morris' reply, and circulated among the members of Congress. The com
mittee agreed to report Mr. Jefferson's principle, which had for its basis the
Spanish dollar, its multiples, and sub-divisions. His proposition was to
strike four coins, one of gold, two of silver, and one of copper: the ten
dollar piece, of gold, the dollar and dime of silver, and the penny of cop
per. Congress adopted this system the ensuing year, and it has well stood
the test of time, being that now in use ; the most comprehensive and best
system of coin in the world.

Congress next proceeded to discuss the subject of foreign relations.
Treaties of commerce had already been made with France, the Netherlands,
and Sweden, and it was important that others be concluded with England,
Hamburg, Saxony, Prussia, Denmark, Russia, Austria, Rome, Venice,
Naples, Tuscany, Sardinia, Genoa, Spain, Portugal, the Porte, Algiers,
Tripoli, Tunis, and Morocco. Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams were ministers
plenipotentiary respectively at Paris and the Hague, with extraordinary gen
eral powers for entering into treaties of amity and commerce. It was deter
mined to add another member, and on May /th Mr. Jefferson was chosen
by Congress to this office. Making hasty preparations, four days later he left
Annapolis for Philadelphia, where was at that time his eldest daughter, and
proceeded to Boston to secure passage. On the 5th of July they sailed, in
the Ceres, a merchant ship belonging to Nathaniel Tracy, who was himself a
passenger, and arrived in Cowes on the 26th. The illness of his daughter
detained Mr. Jefferson a few days at that port, and the 3Oth he left for
Havre, where he arrived the following day. On the 3d of August he
reached Paris, and immediately called upon Dr. Franklin. A message was
at once sent to Mr. Adams, requesting him to join them at Paris. On his
arrival a general form was devised, to be presented to such nations as were
desirous of treaty relations with the new government. Negotiations were
soon entered into with Prussia, Denmark, and Tuscany. Other powers
were indifferent to making treaties, and it was not deemed expedient to
press the matter. The negotiations were protracted, foreign countries know
ing little of the products or resources of America, her commerce having
been heretofore monopolized by Fngland.

Mr. Adams was assigned as minister to England in June, 1785, and in
July Dr. Franklin returned to America, Mr. Jefferson being appointed his
successor. In February, 1786, Mr. Adams sent an urgent request to Mr.
Jefferson, the bearer being Colonel Smith, his secretary, that he come

ACCEPTS A FOREIGN MISSION. 38!

immediately to London, as it was his opinion that a more advantageous
treaty might be negotiated. On the ist of March Mr. Jefferson left Paris,
and soon after his arrival in London was presented to the king and queen.
His reception was not by any means cordial, and left an unpleasant impres
sion on his mind that no favors were to be expected from that quarter.
After some seven weeks Mr. Jefferson returned to Paris, where he arrived
April 3Oth. While in London negotiations for a treaty of commerce were
entered into with the ambassador of Portugal, but the demands of hi^
government proving unreasonable the matter was for the time abandoned.

Pirates from the Barbary coast having captured and despoiled t\vc
American merchantmen, Mr. Jefferson proposed a joint attack against then/
by all naval powers, and to that end suggested a convention, the object oV
which should be "to compel the piratical states to perpetual peace, without
price, and to guarantee that peace to each other. " Certain of the powers
were favorable to such mode of procedure, but others were not prepared to
act, and the proposal fell through.

The remissness of members of Congress in attending to their duties, was
a subject of uneasiness. The sessions had become almost permanent in form,
so much so that legislatures had in some cases remonstrated, and recom
mended intermissions. The entire government of a vigorous and growing
nation was vested in them, and during their vacations there was no head to
the general government to take action in an emergency, to superintend the
executive department, and communicate witli ministers and foreign powers.
As a temporal'}' expedient in April, 17^5, Mr. Jefferson proposed that Con-
gress be divided into two departments, one legislative, the other executive,
and that a committee consisting of one member from each state should con
stitute the executive; this committee should remain in session during the
intermission of Congress, "receive and communicate with foreign minister*
and nations, and assemble Congress on sudden and extraordinary emergen
cies." This plan was agreed to, and a committee appointed, which,
however, was soon split by dissensions, the members abandoned their
posts, and the government was left with no executive head until the
re-assembling of Congress. Things remained in this chaotic condition, each
state legislature a law unto itself, and internal dissensions sprang up regard
ing duties on articles produced in one state and shipped to another, causing
great uneasiness and bickering. The good sense of the people would not long
tolerate this condition of affairs, and a general agreement prevailed between
the states for a convention to harmonize differences. Deputies were chosen
by the various legislatures to meet and agree on such a constitution as
"would insure peace, justice, liberty, the common defense and general wel
fare." This convention met at Philadelphia, May 25, 1787, and sat with
closed doors until September i/th, its proceedings being held inviolate by
the delegates until their labors were ended, when the results were published.

382 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

Six of the articles proposed were accepted without change, and in seven,
amendments were proposed, after which all were adopted. Mr. Jefferson
early received a copy of the draft, and though in several of the articles he
found matters of grave concern, yet as a whole he considered the work of
the convention satisfactory. Those articles to which he particularly objected
were : that the absolute freedom of the press, freedom in religion, and free
dom of the person were not guaranteed under the protection of the habeas
corpus ; and trial by jury in both civil and criminal cases ; the re-eligibility of
the President to office he quite disapproved. It were better, perhaps, to give
his views of these questions in his own words. Some years later he says :
" My first idea was, that the nine states first acting, should accept it
unconditionally, and thus secure what in it was good, and that the four last
should accept it on the previous condition, that certain amendments should
be agreed to ; but a better course was devised, of accepting the whole, and
trusting that the good sense and honest intentions of our citizens, would make
the alterations which should be deemed necessary. Accordingly, all were
accepted, six without objection, and seven with recommendations of speci
fied amendments. Those respecting the press, religion, and juries, with
several others, of great value, were accordingly made ; but the habeas corpus
was left to the discretion of Congress, and the amendment against the
re-eligibility of the President was not proposed. My fears of that feature
wrere founded on the importance of the office, on the fierce contentions it
might excite among ourselves, if continuable for life, and the dangers of
interference, either with money or arms, by foreign nations, to whom the
choice of an American President might become interesting. Examples of
this abounded in history; in the case of the Roman emperors, for instance;
of the Popes, while of any significance ; of the German emperors ; the
kings of Poland, and the deys of Barbary. I had observed, too, in the
feudal history, and in the recent instance, particularly, of the stadtholder of
Holland, how easily offices, or tenures for life, slide into inheritances. My
wish, therefore, was, that the President should be elected for seven years,
and be ineligible afterwards. This term I thought sufficient to enable him,
with the concurrence of the legislature, to carry through and establish any
system of improvement he should propose for the general good. But the
practice adopted, I think, is better, allowing his continuance for eight years,
with a liability to be dropped at half way of the term, making that a period
of probation. That his continuance should be restrained to seven years,
was the opinion of the convention at an earlier stage of its session, when it
voted that term, by a majority of eight against two, and by a simple
majority that he should be ineligible a second term. This opinion was con
firmed by the house so late as July 26th, referred to the committee of
detail, reported favorably by them, and changed to the present form by
final vote, on the last day but one only of their session. Of this change,

ACCEPTS A FOREIGN MISSION. 383

three states expressed their disapprobation ; New York, by recommending
an amendment, that the President should not be eligible a third time, and
Virginia and North Carolina that he should not be capable of serving more
than eight in any term of sixteen years ; and though this amendment has
not been made in form, yet practice seems to have established it. The
example of four Presidents voluntarily retiring at the end of their eighth
year, and the progress of public opinion, that the principle is salutary, have
^iven it in practice the force of precedent and usage ; inasmuch that, should
a President consent to be a candidate for a third election, I trust he would
be rejected, on this demonstration of ambitious views."

Another article in the Constitution, that relating to the judiciary, seems
at the time to have been overlooked, although at a later day Mr. Jefferson
jaw in it a grave defect. It provided that no judge should be removed from
office for any cause, except by a two-thirds vote in the House, which unless
hi very extraordinary occasions, could not be obtained. He believed that
judges whose erroneous biases menace dissolution, should be withdrawn
jrom the bench, the first and supreme duty being to preserve the republic.

While on the continent Mr. Jefferson, by an accident, sustained a dis
location of the right wrist, which being improperly set, caused him much
trouble, and in a measure impaired his health. He was recommended to
try the effect of the mineral waters of Aix, in Provence. This gave him
an opportunity to view another section of France. He left Paris February
JS, 1786, and after a trial of the waters experienced no benefit. On his
return he visited the rice plantations of Piedmont, to determine if anything
could be done in the way of improvement in the rice culture of Carolina,
arriving at Paris June loth. In the latter part of July his second daughter,
Maria, arrived in Paris, having come by way of London. The youngest
daughter had died a short time previously, in Virginia. He had before this
established a household in Paris, where he was associated with the great
thinkers of" the day, and breathed an element suited to his tastes and dis
position. His early association with his college tutor, Dr. Small, had
inspired in him a desire to pursue the study of science and philosophy. In
Paris he was surrounded by men of letters, and immediately took a fore
most place in the scientific discussions of the day. He had been able in the
intervals of public service, to pursue, to a limited degree, such subjects as
particularly interested him. His early knowledge of the French language
had led him to procure such treatises on mathematics and kindred sciences as
were published in France, and he had acquired a valuable library, to which
he made constant additions.

Before leaving America, in 1781, M. de Marbois, a learned gentleman
connected with the French legation, had requested Mr. Jefferson to furnish
such information regarding the different states of the Union as might be in
his possession. As he had always taken a deep interest in matters per-

384 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

taining to the growth and prosperity of the nation, and had committed his
observations to writing, probably no one person in America was better
qualified to make a candid and intelligent estimate of the resources and
possibilities of America than he. His notes were on loose slips, not
at all arranged ; he had prepared them at some length for the accom
modation of the gentleman requesting the information, and proposed to
publish a few copies for presentation to friends who were interested in
the subject, but the terms of publication were so exorbitant he was
deterred from so doing. After he had become settled in Paris he ascer
tained that the work could be done there at about one-fourth the price
demanded in America. He therefore revised and extended the original
matter and caused two hundred copies to be printed under the title of Notes
on Virginia. These were given to friends in Europe and America. A book
dealer chanced to obtain a copy, which he caused to be translated into
French, and submitted to Mr. Jefferson for revision. It was filled with
glaring errors, but not having time • to thoroughly revise it, the proof was
returned to the publisher, who issued the volume. A London publisher
secured a copy and requested permission to print an English edition. This
permission Mr. Jefferson readily granted, thinking it best to have an accu
rate work published to counteract the false impressions that might arise
from the French work.

The articles of confederation wrere hastily and indefinitely drawn, and
when the immediate necessities of war had passed away, and peace was
assured to the country, each state became more independent of the others.
True, a semblance of general government was kept up by the election
of delegates to Congress, but the states did not provide such adequate
means for the sustentation of home and foreign relations as was neces
sary for the establishment of treaties of commerce and the maintaining
diplomatic relations abroad. Some contributed small amounts and some
none at all. These latter furnished an excuse for others, and finally the
wheels of government became almost blocked. This state of things existed
until the adoption of a constitution drew the states into more intimate
relations, which were further strengthened by the election of a Presi
dent and a Vice President. The election of Mr. Adams, late minister to
England, to the second place in the government, closely followed his return
to his native ceuntry. He had been appointed minister to England while
associated with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefferson, in a commission for the
formation of treaties with such foreign powers as were disposed to establish
commercial relations with the United States. His place of residence had
been at the Hague, and he had not taken leave of that government before
proceeding to London. During his residence at the Hague he had a gen
eral authority to procure loans of such sums as were necessary to the main
tenance of diplomatic relations, and to meet the interest on the public debt.

ACCEPTS A FOREIGN MISSION. 385

A limited sum had been deposited with Mr. Grand, the banker, of Paris,
for the accommodation of the commissioners there, but this had been over
drawn, and the banker refused to make further advances until a deposit had
been made. A company which had made a small loan to the United States
was pressing for payment of its claim ; the bankers in Amsterdam were
becoming anxious regarding the large sums they had provided, the interest
on which would become due in June; failure in the payment of these
demands would impair the credit of the government and prevent the future
negotiation of bonds. Application had been made to the financial agent
for remittances covering the sums demanded, and had produced a candid
statement that no funds could be depended on until the new government
should become settled and in full working order. Mr. Adams, before leav
ing London, had notified the bankers to present their claims to Mr. Jeffer
son in the future. The latter had no authority to issue bonds, no familiarity
with the financial affairs of the United States in Kurope, and was totally
without resources to provide for the contingency. In this state of affairs it
was imperative that he confer with Mr. Adams, and this determined him to
journey to the Hague. Mr. Adams saw the necessity for immediate action.
The financial matters of the Republic were of paramount importance. Mr.
Jefferson prepared an estimate of the sum required. lie found there was
necessity that provision be mack- for the years 1788, 1789, and 1790, before
the government would be in condition to meet its obligations. There would
be required for this purpose 1 , 544,017-10 florins. There was available a
sum amounting to 622,687-2-8 florins, leaving to be supplied 921,949-7-4.
It was proposed to issue bonds for i.ooo.ooo florins, which would realize
920,000, after deducting the expense of negotiation. This would still leave
a small deficiency of 1,949-7-4 florins, which could stand unpaid until
further provision was made. Bonds were accordingly issued by Mr. Adams,
in sums of 1,000 florins each, and placed in the hands of the bankers, with
instructions not to put them on the market until the loan had been sanc
tioned by Congress. Mr. Jefferson then returned to Paris, eased in mind,
and with the satisfaction that the credit of the nation was safe, for the time,
at least, and he relieved from the importunities of its creditors.

In 1784 Dr. Franklin had agreed upon certain articles in a consular con
vention with the French government, entirely at variance with the spirit of
the laws of several states of the Union, which Congress refused to ratify,
and returned to Mr. Jefferson with Instructions to have them expunged, or
modified to conform to our laws. The concessions were made after much
discussion, and the articles signed on the 1 4th of November, 1788.

The connection of Mr. Jefferson with the revolt of the colonies and the
securing of their independence from the domination of Great Britain,
caused him to nvike careful study of the events which preceded and led to
the French revolution. From his earliest acquaintance with the Marquis

386 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

de Lafayette he had recognized in him the principles of republicanism, and
his own life in France brought him in contact with the leading spirits in the
intellectual agitation which preceded and produced the revolution. While
in strong sympathy with the movement, Mr. Jefferson maintained in the
strictest sense the policy of non-intervention, recognizing the fact that he
was the accredited representative of a nation at peace and holding friendly
relations with the court of France. He was once requested to attend and
assist in the deliberations of a convention formed to frame a constitution
supplementary to a declaration of rights, but excused himself on the ground
that his duties were limited to the concerns of his own country. The con
sistency he showed in maintaining the position he had taken, caused him to
be trusted by both patriots and royalists. The minister of state was his
friend and personally requested that he assist at such conferences as were
aimed toward a reformation.

The excesses of the revolution did not begin until several years after
these events, and Mr. Jefferson was not in France at the time of their occur
rence. For more than a year he had been awaiting an opportunity to
return home, with a view to placing his daughters under the care of friends,
and in the midst of American society, but the changes in the govern
ment and the many affairs to be carefully attended to before it would
become settled on a stable foundation, had prevented Congress granting him
leave of absence. It was not until near the last of August that matters had
been placed in such shape that he could leave. His arrangements for tem
porary absence completed, on the 2Qth of September, 1789, he left Paris for
Havre, where he was detained until the 8th of October. On the gth he
arrived at Cowes, where he had made arrangements to take passage in the
ship Clcrmont. A delay of some ten days ensued, caused by contrary winds,
and during this interval he visited objects of interest on the Isle of Wight,
particularly Carisbrooke castle, the refuge of Charles the First in 1648.
Resuming the journey, he reached Norfolk November 23d. Traveling
homeward from that port, he passed several days with friends in Eppington,
and while there received a letter from General, then President, Washington,
inviting him to a seat in his cabinet. The letter of the President was as
follows :

"NEW YORK, October 13, 1789.

"SiR: In the selection of characters to fill the important offices of
government, in the United States, I was naturally led to contemplate the
talents and dispositions which I knew you to possess and entertain for the
service of your country; and without being able to consult your inclination,
or to derive any knowledge of your intention from your letters, either to
myself, or to any other of your friends, I was determined, as well by motives
of private regard, as a conviction of public propriety, to nominate you for
the department of state, which, under its present organization, involves

ACCEPTS A FOREIGN MISSION. 387

many of the most interesting objects of the executive authority. But
grateful as your acceptance of this commission would be to me, I am, at the
same time, desirous to accommodate your wishes, and I have, therefore,
forborne to nominate your successor at the court of Versailles, until I should
be informed of your determination.

"Being on the eve of a journey through the eastern states, with a view
to observe the situation of the country, and in a hope of perfectly re-estab
lishing my health, which a series of indispositions has much impaired, I
have deemed it proper to make this communication of your appointment,
in order that you might k»e no time, should it be your tcis/i to visit Vir
ginia during the recess of Congress, which will probably be the most con
venient season, both as it ma}' respect your private concerns and the public
service.

" Unwilling, as I am, to interfere in the direction of your choice of
assistants, I shall only take the liberty of observing to you, that from warm
recommendations which I have received in be-half of Roger Aldin, Ksq.,
assistant secretary of the late Congress, I have placed all the papers there
unto belonging, under his care. These papers, \\hich more pmpcrly apper
tain to the office of foreign affairs, are under the superintendence of Mr.
Jay, who has been so obliging as to continue his good offices, and they are
in the immediate charge of Mr. Rem>en.

" With sentiments of very great esteem and regard, I have the honor
to be, sir,

Your most obedient servant,

GKOKGI WASHINGTON.

"The lion. Thomas Jefferson."

November 3Oth President \Ya>hington addressed another communica
tion to Mr. Jefferson, of the same tenor as the above, requesting the com
munication of his decision in the matter.

The receipt of the letter from the President requesting him to accept
an appointment to his cabinet, filled Mr. Jefferson with conflicting emo
tions, lie had left Paris with the intention of soon returning; he had
found there men of advanced views in scientific and political subjects; the
revolution in public sentiment had just begun, and lie confidently expected
to scv ^ts close within a year. Inclination prompted his return to France;
obedience to the wish of the executive decided him to accept the
appointment. ^

3SS THOMAS jEFFtic:o\-.

CHAPTER IV.

SERVICE IN THE CABINET OF PRESIDENT WASHINGTON.

MR. JEFFERSON arrived in New York the 2ist of March, ljyo> and
entered upon an epoch of his life that continued for nineteen years,
until his retirement from public service in 1809. The duties of secretary of
state are perhaps the most exacting of any in the administration of the
government, and require exceptional abilities for their proper performance.
All questions of public concern must be appreciated by him ; since both
home and foreign affairs are under his immediate supervision. To this
office Mr. Jefferson brought rare qualifications of mind and experience.
The President received his minister with cordiality, while all parties extended
the hand of welcome. He found here a different sentiment from that to
which he had lately been accustomed. The society that was attracted to
the President's levees had an aristocratic tendency. The President was
himself descended from an old and aristocratic family, and by education and
association Avas quite exclusive. He allowed no one to approach him with
undue familiarity ; eve'n his most intimate friends scarcely dared attempt
to penetrate the reserve with which he surrounded himself. Alexander
Hamilton, his secretary of the treasury, though with no inherited aristocratic
tendency, by virtue of the position he occupied was a leader and advocate of
extreme court etiquette, beside being essentially in favor of a monarchial
form of government. His extreme views regarding the establishment of a
certain courtly form in addressing the President, and in conducting the
•affairs connected with the government, met with strong disapproval from
Mr. Jefferson, whose early acquired republican principles had been
strengthened by association with the young republicans of France. When
It was proposed in the Senate to address the President as " His Highness
George Washington, President of the United States and Protector of their
Liberties," although he had no voice in deciding the title to be adopted, he
unqualifiedly dissented from such form. The wife of the President was also

SERVICE IN THE CABINET OF PRESIDENT WASHINGTON. 389

of aristocratic tendency, and took delight in the little court that surrounded
her. It frequently happened that at dinner parties nearly all present were
of the court part}', and Mr. Jefferson the only person present entertaining
opposite views, unless it so happened that a republican member of the
Senate or House was present. Jefferson's doctrine of simplicity in govern
ment was not the feeling of a moment, but was adhered to throughout his
life. So strongly implanted was it, that when he became President of the
United States his cards bore the simple inscription, "Thomas Jefferson,"

On his advent into the cabinet, Mr. Jefferson found diversity of opinion
among the members of Congress respecting the funding schemes proposed
by the secretary of the treasury. Previous to and during the war of tl.e
revolution the several states had pledged large sums of money, a part uf
which had been applied to home protection and the remainder turned into
the general fund. The amount thus contributed varied in the different
states. Some of these had provided for the payment of their individual
debt, and had it nearly cancelled, while others had done nothing toward
meeting their indebtedness. 'I hose nearly tree from obligations objected
to being taxed to pay the debt of their neighbors. It was a difficult question
to decide. The heavier burdens of the war had been borne by the eastern
and middle states, while those more to the south had, in great measure,
escaped. He to re this question was settled came another of some impor
tance — the permanent establishment of the capital. Various places, from
the Delaware to the Potomac, were advocated as possessing superior advan
tages. Tile question at is>ue was definitely settled by the states assuming
the public debt, now amounting to £54. I 24,404.56 ; the temporary location
of the capital for a period <>f ten years at Philadelphia, and its permanent
establishment on the Potomac, at or near Georgetown.

Congress adjourned Augu>t I 2th, and, after a week spent in a pleasure
jaunt with members of the cabinet and others, Mr. Jefferson returned to
his home at Monticello, where he remained, quietly attending to business
that had for some time been neglected, until the opening of the next ses
sion, in December, again called him to Philadelphia. During this year the
navigation of the Missis>ippi river became a subject of importance. There
was probability of a rupture between Kngland and France, and such r.n
event might also involve Spain in war. A tree outlet to the sea for the
products of the growing west was an imperative necessity. After some
delay, arrangements were made for the use of the river as far as New
Orleans, but it was not until some ten years later that the government was
able to acquire peaceable possession of the territory adjacent to the river,
and control of the same to its mouth.

At this time the United States had no treat}- of commerce with Great
Britain. The mother country had heretofore appeared indifferent to such
treaty. There was now an informal agent in New York, who proposed an

390 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

exchange of ministers. This the United States agreed to, but England
did not respond, leaving all her affairs to an unaccredited agent. Mr. Jef
ferson informed Gouverneur Morris, an informal agent of the United States
in England, that regarding a treaty of commerce and alliance "we wish
to be neutral, and will be so, if they [England] will execute the treaty
fairly and attempt no conquests adjoining us." This had reference to the
acquirement of a portion or all the Spanish possessions in America. It was
his desire that no change of neighbors be made, that the United States
might retain the balance of power on this continent.

Among other duties this year, Mr. Jefferson prepared a report on a
standard of coinage, and weights and measures. The former was virtually
adopted, and is the system now in use. The system of weights and meas
ures had become so familiar, and habit so confirmed, that a change was not
deemed advisable.

The British government would not enter into commercial treaty with
the United States until misunderstandings were settled regarding the terms
of peace. The importation of all articles from America that could be
obtained elsewhere was debarred, except that in time of scarcity of grain
it was allowed to enter duty free. Commerce with England was limited to a
few articles not readily procured elsewhere. Trade with the West Indies
was included in this category. Mr. Jefferson advocated retaliatory meas
ures, and the granting of special privileges to other countries friendly to us.
Hamilton was opposed to such measures, and his influence is believed to
have defeated their passage. In principle Jefferson believed in "perfect and
universal free trade as one of the natural rights of man, and as the only
sound policy." He modified this somewhat by saying instead : ''Free trade
with any nation that will reciprocate."

The duties of the first secretary of state were multifarious, including
many now foreign to that office. Jefferson was for a time postmaster-
general, and seriously contemplated a fast mail service, not connected with
steam-power, iron rails, and portable palaces for its conveyance, but by
means of relays of post-horses traveling at the rate of one Jmndrcd miles a
day. Under his control, also, was the patent system. An Englishman
solicited the privilege of coining the currency of the country ; this brought
the subject of the establishment of a government mint before Congress, and
it, also, was referred to him. He decided as to the legality of land grants.
There being no other "general utility" man possessed of such broad and
comprehensive scope, on him devolved the laying out of the District of
Columbia and planning the erection of public buildings.

The chartering of the United States bank was an act Mr. Jefferson
strongly condemned, and which Mr. Hamilton as cordially approved.
Much discussion ensued in Congress over the measure, many deeming it
opposed to the spirit and intent of the Constitution, but the bill finally

SERVICE IN THE CABINET OF PRESIDENT WASHINGTON. 39!

passed. The stock of the bank was subscribed within a very few days after
books were opened, and could have been increased to an almost indefinite
sum. Everything began to assume the form of prosperity, but a spirit of
stock gambling was developed, which was dangerous to the permanence of
institutions. Government securities rose to twenty-five per cent, above par,
and the people were read}' to take hold of any enterprise, however hazard
ous, which promised sudden wealth. Fortunes were made by men who held
the appreciated securities, and vessels were tied up at their wharves, legiti
mate commerce being too slow a course to follow in the pursuit of the
golden god. Members of Congress were not above ambition in the accu
mulation of wealth, and previous to the passage of the act man}* pur
chased the depreciated paper of government, and realized large profits
from its sudden rise. Mr. Jefferson's opposition to a bank controlled by
government, Hamilton deemed opposition to himself and his plans. lie
said: "Mr. Jefferson not only delivered an opinion in writing against its
constitutionality, but he did it in a style and manner which I felt as partak
ing of asperity and ill-humor toward uu \ " Again: " In France," continues
Hamilton, "he saw government only on the side of its abuses. lie drank
deeply of the French philosophy, in religion, in science, in politics. lie
came from France in the moment of a fermentation which he had a share in
exciting, and in the passions and feelings of which he shared, both from
temperament and situation. He came here, probably, with a too partial
idea of his own powers, and with the expectation of a greater share in the
direction of our councils than he has in reality enjoyed. I am not sure that
he had not marked out for himself the department of the finances. lie
came electrified /»///.v with attachment to France, »ind with the project of
knitting together the two countries in the closest political bands. Mr.
Madison had always entertained an exalted opinion of the talents, knowledge,
and virtues of Mr. Jefferson. The sentiment was probably reciprocal. A
close correspondence subsisted between them (.hiring the time of Mr. Jeffer
son's absence from this country. A close- intimacy arose on his return.

Mr. Jefferson was indiscreetlv open in his approbation of Mr. Madi
son's principles on first coining to the seat of government. I say indis
creetly, because a gentleman in one department ought not to have taken
sides against another in another department."

Hamilton was jealous of his rights as secretary of the treasury, and
was disposed to asperse the character of others who honestly differed from
him. He seemed to think plans for the increase of the power and emolu
ments of his department should not be condemned by those who saw things
in a different light. He had his way in the funding measures, the United
States bank, and others, and the opposition he had overcome increased
his egotism. While on all hands he was, and is at the present day, acknowl
edged a man of great financial ability, yet his disposition to override and

392 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

disparage the work of others, his peers, did much to lower him in the esti
mation of men whose good opinion was worth having.

When, in 1790, the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia,
the translating clerk in the department of state declined to follow. To
oblige his friends, James Madison and Henry Lee, Mr. Jefferson appointed
to the office Captain Philip Frenau, who was somewhat of a poet, and
quite a man of genius. Frenau was at the time general utility man on the
New York Commercial Advertiser. The salary of clerk in the department of
state was small, — but two hundred and fifty dollars per year. However, Mr.
Madison and Governor Henry Lee, of Virginia, had in contemplation the
establishment of a paper to represent the republican party, as Hamil
ton had an organ, the Gazette of the United States. Less than a year
after Frenau's appointment, appeared the first number of the National
Gazette. The course followed by the National Gazette in combatting the
principles of federalism, and condemning Mr. Hamilton's schemes, inflamed
the ire of that gentleman, who became still more embittered against Mr.
Jefferson, believing him the instigator and abettor of the attacks against the
United States bank, and other measures. The only connection Mr. Jeffer
son had with the National Gazette, if connection it can be called, was in
loaning its editor the foreign newspapers received by the department. Mr.
Jefferson plainly said: "I never did, by myself or any other, or indirectly,
say a syllable, nor attempt any kind of influence, .... nor write,
dictate, or procure, any one sentence to be inserted in Frenau's, or any
other gazette, to which my name was not affixed, or that of my office."
Undoubtedly Mr. Jefferson's sympathies were with the paper representing
his political views, as were those of Mr. Hamilton with the paper repre
senting the federal party.

Two natures radically antagonistic can hardly be reconciled. This was
the case with Jefferson and Hamilton. Their first mutual impressions were
those of antagonism — the one a republican, in sympathy with a republican
form of government, the other a federalist, with strong predilections to a mon
archical government, surrounded by the restrictions of court etiquette, and a
titled nobility. While each treated the other with courtesy and respect, there
was nothing in common between them. Hamilton planned for a life of
power. Jefferson desired relief from the cares of state, and opportunity for
following the pursuits that were best suited to his nature. The differences
between these great men were never reconciled, and never ended until Ham
ilton fell, bathed in his own blood, under the fatal bullet of Burr. Jefferson
dreaded Hamilton's ambition and designs. His extravagant praise of Julius
Caesar, whom he pronounced the greatest man that ever lived, brought to
mind a declaration of Cicero, that Caesar used frequently a verse from
Euripides "which expressed the image of his soul," that i( if right and
justice were ever to be violated, they were to be violated for the sake of

- Y\

ALEXANDKK HAMILTON.

SERVICE IN THE CABINET OF PRESIDENT WASHINGTON. 393

reigning." Jefferson believed he had ambitious designs, and "suspected
what Gouverneur Morris suspected, that Hamilton contemplated in some
crisis resorting to the s\vord."

In 1791 begun a long discussion of differences between the United
States and Great Britain, in which the cause of the United States was
represented and ably defended by Mr. Jefferson, that of England being
supported by Mr. Hammond, who had been accredited minister to the
United States in August of that year. The government had received notice
that an Englishman, named Bowles, was endeavoring to incite the Creek
Indians to declare war against the United States. This being brought to the
attention of Mr. Hammond, he denounced Bowles as an imposter in repre
senting himself an agent of Great Britain. Mr. Jefferson replied that "the
promptitude of the disavowal of what their candor had forbidden him to
credit was a ne\v proof of their friendly dispositions, and a fresh incitement
to both parties to cherish corresponding sentiments."

Weightier matters soon came before the two ministers. The govern
ment ckr'med that British fortified posts within the United States had not
been delivered up, as contemplated in the treaty of peace; that many negroes
had been carried off in contravention of the s.ane article; that the river St.
Croix. the boundary between the United States and Canada, is not the river
contemplated in the treat}', tin-re being two rivers of that name. Mr.
Hammond declared that the United States had violated sections of the
same treaty, and adduced an article stipulating that creditors of either
nation should have no legal impediments thrown in the way of recovering
debts; that Congress should recommend the several state legislatures to
make restitution of property of British subjects confiscated during the
war ; there should be no future confiscations, nor prosecutions of persons
for having borne arms in the war. The discussion of these questions
extended into the following year, and was conducted with consummate
ability on both sides, but nothing definite was agreed upon during Mr. Jef
ferson's administration of the department of state.

The declaration of war between England and France, in the winter of
!793> gave rise to many conflicting feelings in America. France, who had
been an ally in the war of independence, was now assailed because she was
in a weakened condition. What course should be taken in the coming strug
gle? The sympathy and cordial co-operation of a great majority of the
people could be depended on for France. But how would America's position
in the great sisterhood of nations be affected ? A very few days of delay
and every American vessel capable of carrying a half-dozen guns, would be
fitted out, manned, and dispatched to capture British merchant vessels.
The President was at Mt. Vernon when a letter from Mr. Jefferson reached
him, informing him of what had occurred. He immediately started by
the fastest post, for Philadelphia, and on his arrival called a meeting of his

394 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

cabinet to discuss the grave question before them. The representative of
France was at that time crossing the Atlantic on a peaceful mission. Should
he be received and recognized? Jefferson and Randolph at once answered
in the affirmative. Hamilton and Knox saw no other course open to them,
and were obliged reluctantly to acquiesce. By the treaties of 1/98 — one of
"amity and commerce," the other of ''alliance "-—French privateers might
enter our ports with their prizes, while British war vessels were denied the
privilege; the United States also guaranteed the French their possessions
in America. The king of France had signed these treaties, but the
revolutionists had beheaded him. Was a treaty, signed by the king of
France, valid, now that he Avas murdered, and the government republican
in form? Mr. Hamilton favored giving the new representative, M. Genet,
a qualified reception, by declaring the question as to the validity of existing
treaties reserved. He said : "It was from Louis XVI. that the United
States received those succors which were so important in the establishment
of our independence and liberty. It was with his heirs and successors that
they contracted their engagements, by which they obtained those precious
succors. "

Mr. Jefferson replied at length to the arguments of Mr. Hamilton. He
said: " If I do not subscribe to the soundness of the secretary of the
treasury's reasoning, I do most fully to its ingenuity. ... I
consider the people who constitute a society or nation as the source of all
authority in that nation ; as free to transact their common concerns by any
agents they think proper; to change these agents individually, or the organ
ization of them in form or function, whenever they please ; that all the acts
clone by these agents, • under the authority of the nation, are the acts of the
nation, are obligatory on them, and inure to their use, and can, in no wise,
be annulled or affected by^any change in the form of the government or of
the persons administering it. Consequently, the treaties between the United
States and France were riot treaties between the United States and Louis
Capet, but between the two nations of America and France ; and the
nations remaining in existence, though both of them have since changed
their forms of government, the treaties are not annulled by these changes."
The President decided that Genet be received without qualification.

On the 8th of April the frigate Ly Evibnscade, carrying forty guns and
three hundred men, arrived in Charleston harbor, having on board the
ambassador, M. Genet. Following her came a British prize, captured
during the passage, showing what rich pickings might be taken by priva
teers. And this was not all. Two prizes had been taken, the brig Little
Sarah, and a valuable merchantman, the Grange. A few days later arrived
the French frigate, Citizen Genet, also with two prizes. Charleston at this
time contained many wealthy French merchants, all of whom welcomed the
ambassador with delight, and many requested commissions to engage in

SERVICE IN THE CABINET OF PRESIDENT WASHINGTON. 39$

privateering. Two vessels were fitted out and engaged in this lucrative
business The progress of Genet to Philadelphia was an ovation. He was
received with enthusiasm at every point. Delegations of citizens met him
and delivered flattering speeches. His self-importance was largely exalted,
and led him into acts which were not consistent in the representative of a
country nominally at peace with a power hostile to France. The brig Little
Sara/i was equipped and fitted out as a privateer, after being christened the
Little Democrat. Promise was made by Genet that she would not depart
until questions regarding her status were decided. A few clays later she
dropped down the river and was gone. Then was promulgated by Mr.
Jefferson the doctrine that was followed years later in the case of the rebel
vessel Alabama. He informed M. Genet that the United States would
assume the responsibility for the compensation of owners of any prizes
taken by the Little Democrat, ''the indemnification to be reimbursed by the
French government."

Genet continued his efforts to inflame the passions of the people
against Great Hritain, and engaged in fitting out other privateers at Philadel
phia and New York. He also attempted to organize an expedition against
the Spanish possessions at New Orleans. The west had long been antici
pating an attack in this quarter in order to gain free navigation of the Missis
sippi. Fortunately, no overt act was committed, else the country might have
become embroiled in a costly and disastrous war with Spain. The President
finally decided to request the recall of M. Genet. This took considerable
time, all of which was employed by the latter in the manner he deemed
best for his interests and the interests of his government. In due time he
was recalled, and the French government disavowed his proceedings. On
the revocation of his commission, M. Genet, who was at the time in New
York, married a daughter of Governor George Clinton, and ever after
remained a citizen of that state, dying at Jamaica, Long island, in 1^34.

In February, 17^-, at a conference with the President regarding the
post-office, Mr. Jefferson expressed his intention to resign from the cabinet
and retire to the quiet of his home at Monticello, where he would be free
to follow those pursuits most congenial to his mind. President Washing
ton had determined to withdraw from the cares of office at the close of his
term, but urgently requested Mr. Jefferson to reconsider his determination
to resign, saying he felt the state department to be the most important
under the government, ami that his services were imperatively needed for
-some time to come. Mr. Jefferson finally decided that he would remain for
the time, though he was determined on retirement at no distant day. The
salary paid the secretary of state was inadequate to his support, and he had
a debt of thirteen thousand dollars hanging over his head, which had in a
manner been paid long before. This debt related to the estate derived by
Mrs. Jefferson from her father, and was clue an Fnglish gentleman. Mr. Jef

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

ferson, with the intention of discharging this obligation, had sold a valuable
tract of land just before the beginning of hostilities, but had used the coin
procured for that purpose in the equipment of soldiers for the war, the state
of Virginia agreeing to pay the debt after peace should be declared. This it
repudiated, and instead paid Mr. Jefferson dollar for dollar in the almost
valueless paper money of the time, which had become so depreciated that
the sum he received barely paid for an overcoat. The raid of Cornwallis
and Tarleton destroyed property aggregating more than the debt, but he
felt in honor bound to its payment in full. Thus he had valid reasons for
resigning.

Though he had long contemplated retirement from the cabinet, his
friendship for the President and a desire to give him all the aid in his power,
caused him to forego his own convenience until near the close of Washing
ton's first term. A second time, in August, he subdued his inclinations and
remained at his post. Finally, December 3ist, he addressed the President
a note inclosing his resignation. He had arrived at the point where he
could no longer sacrifice his private interests even to those of his country.
For a period during the troublous times following the declaration of war
between England and France, he had suffered contumely and neglect
because of his supposed sympathy with the people of France, the interest of
the moneyed aristocracy being centered in the British trade. But the pub
lication of a pamphlet by the government giving in full the course pursued
by him in the discussion of international questions with Edmund Genet,
the French minister, and George Hammond, the representative of England,
placed these questions in a new light. Besides, the ability he had previously
shown and the influence he continually exerted for his country's good, could
not be effaced from the public mind. He retired from office covered with
honor, his character for integrity unimpeached, and the prejudice of his
ppponents dissipated.

ELECTED VICE PRESIDENT. 30?

CHAPTER V.

ELECTED VICE PRESIDENT.

DURING a period of more than twenty-five year?, Mr. Jefferson had
served the country faithfully, both at home and abroad. His visits to
Monticello had been few and brief, his opportunities for overseeing his
farms, and the occasions afforded for the enjoyment of his daughters' society,
limited. lie now returned to find much of the cultivated portion of his estate
in very bad condition. The management of overseers had nearly wrought
ruin. Crops had been raised year after year until the soil was exhausted,
when the cultivated portion was allowed to grow up to a wilderness of ever
greens and bushes, and a new tract was cleared for cultivation. The growth
of tobacco for many years in succession hail so reduced the fertile bottoms
that the)' were incapable of producing one-fourth of a crop of corn or wheat.
He still had a large quantity of unbroken land. Of his estate of more than
ten thousand acres, but about two thousand were under cultivation. He
immediately instituted measures of reform in the system of cultivation, and
himself took the burden of management. The manor-house was incom
plete, and he extended and added to it until it approached his ideal of a
home. lie had studied the theory of beautifying the landscape, and his
years of foreign travel and residence had brought to his notice the princi
ples of art as applied to adornment. The ideas his observing mind had
retained were incorporated into the development of the artistic in the sur
roundings of Monticello. The result obtained was the combination of art
and nature in such a manner that it was almost impossible to decide where
the one began and the other ended.

To say that he was not ambitious would ill accord with his course after
retirement from the cabinet. For several years Monticello was head
quarters of the republican part}-. Its owner was intimate with members of
Congress from Virginia, Kentucky, and other southern states. Among his

3QS THOMAS JEFFERSON.

most frequent guests and highly esteemed friends were Mr. Madison, Mr.
Monroe, and Mr. Giles. Here was continued the opposition to the federalist
policy that had marked his course in the cabinet, and here were developed
plans for the advancement of the republican party. From here were
directed the attacks of the opposition journals, and from the pen of Jeffer
son emanated many of the bills and resolutions introduced into Congress.
The term of Washington as President was nearly ended. The republican
party took decisive steps in announcing their candidate for the succession,
and that candidate was Thomas Jefferson. Whether he was opposed to this
plan can not now be known, but he at least silently acquiesced in the move
ment. Washington declined re-election to a third term, and the contest lay
between Jefferson and Adams. Washington had been the popular candi
date of all classes, and no element of politics had entered into his election.
But the time for a change had arrived. The terms federalist and republican
had been bestowed upon the two diverse organizations. During «::His period
of political excitement Mr. Jefferson remained quietly at his home, super
intending his farm ; it is to be presumed doing much in the councils of his
party, though writing but one political letter — to Mr. Madison — during the
campaign. The mode of deciding the Presidential election was different
from that followed at the present time. The candidates were John Adams
and Thomas Pinckney, on the part of the federalists ; Thomas Jefferson and
Aaron Burr, on that of the republicans. The vote in the electoral college
^>f 1796 stood for Mr. Adams, seventy-one; for Mr. Jefferson, sixty-eight;
for Mr. Pinckney, fifty-nine ; for Mr. Burr, thirty ; for Samuel Adams,
fifteen ; for Oliver Ellsworth, eleven ; for John Jay, five ; for George Clin
ton, seven ; and ten scattering votes among five candidates. Mr. Adams
receiving the greatest number of votes was declared President Thomas
Jefferson received the next largest number and was chosen Vice President.
Mr. Adams received the entire vote of his state— Massachusetts — and Mr.
Jefferson received the same compliment from Virginia. Jefferson's defeat
was undoubtedly caused by some feeling engendered during his connection
with the cabinet of Washington, in which many of his acts had received
severe criticism.

It was believed by many, and ardently hoped by some, that he would
decline the second place in the government. To prove to all that he would
not refuse the honor conferred upon him, he undertook a winter journey to
Philadelphia, for the purpose of presiding at the special session of the Sen
ate, which was not likely to occupy more than one day. In a letter to his
friend Mr. Madison, he particularly requested that he be made no part in a
parade or ceremony. He arrived at Philadelphia the 2d of March, and
notwithstanding his wishes for a quiet entrance, a body of militia was
expecting him, and he was received with a thundering salute from artil
lery ; the militia escorted him through the streets bearing a banner on

ELECTED VICE PRESIDENT. 399

which were inscribed the familiar words, "Jefferson, the friend of the people."
He made an early call upon the President-elect, at his lodgings, which was
returned the following morning. During this interview Mr. Adams men
tioned his desire to send an immediate mission to France, and that his
mind had reverted to Mr. Jefferson as the most proper person to perform
that mission, but he doubted if the Constitution would permit the sending
of the Vice President on a foreign mission. He therefore proposed three
others, Mr. Gerry, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Pinckney. Mr. Jefferson replied
that his inclination would not permit of his again representing the govern
ment at a foreign court, and concurred in the view of Mr. Adams as to its
impropriety in the present instance. In compliance with Mr. Adams'
request, he conferred with Mr. Madison regarding his acceptance of the
appointment, which was declined.

The oath of office as Vice President, and president of the Senate, was
administered by William Bingham, president pro tcmporc of that body, Sat
urday, March 4, 1797, and immediately Mr. Jefferson addressed the mem
bers thereof. He then conducted the Senate to the hall of the House of
Representatives, where the ceremony of inducting the President into office
was to take place. The retiring President, George Washington, was
received with cheers, which were repeated when Mr. Adams entered.
After the inaugural address had been delivered, the chief justice adminis
tered the oath of office to Mr. Adams in clear tones, which were repeated
with emphasis. The President then took his seat, but soon arose and left
the hall, bowing to the assembly as he did so. Washington and Jefferson
arose at the same moment, and the Vice President awaited the retirement
of the chief, but Washington declined to take precedence, and followed Jef
ferson, the cheers of the multitude attending them.

The following Monday both dined with General Washington ; both
departed from his house at the same moment, and together they walked
down the street toward their respective residences. During the walk Mr
Jefferson informed the President of the declension by Mr. Madison, of the
office of commissioner to the court of France. Mr. Adams evinced some
embarrassment when the matter was broached, and stammered excuses
regarding the appointment of Mr. Madison, until the point was reached
where their ways diverged, when he bade his companion a hasty adieu. The
thing that troubled him was made plain. He had attended a meeting of
his cabinet that day, and had there met the followers of Hamilton, who were
ready to determine that no member of the republican part}' should be
allowed an important office under the new government, threatening to
resign in case the President did not accede to their wishes. Mr. Adams
weakly yielded, doing, however, that which was in accord with the princi
ples and wishes of the great majority of his party. He never afterward
consulted the Vice President in any measures connected with his "'niinistra-

4OO THOMAS JEFFERSON.

tion, although they exchanged the civilities which their ancient friendship
and present situation demanded.

Mr. Jefferson returned to Monticello, leaving Philadelphia March I2th,
and reaching home the 2Oth of the same month. On the 25th the Presi
dent called an extra session of Congress to meet May I5th, and take under
advisement the policy to be pursued in intercourse with France. That
government had refused to receive the American commissioners. Mr.
Pinckney and Mr. Monroe had called on the minister of foreign affairs,
who informed them that the directory had instructed him to say ''that it
would no longer recognize nor receive a minister plenipotentiary from the
United States, until after a reparation of the grievances demanded of the
American government, and which the French republic had a right to
expect." The President, in his speech, recommended preparations for war,
the creation of a navy, erection of fortifications, fitting out of privateers,
and reorganization of the militia. The grievance complained of by France
was that England had secured greater commercial privileges than had been
accorded our ally of the war of the Revolution. The subject was fully dis
cussed in Congress, and finally moderate measures were adopted. The vic
tories of Bonaparte over the combined armies of Europe, intelligence of
which was received during the session of Congress, had much to do in influ
encing this vote. Jefferson had entirely disapproved of this course, declar
ing ' ' everything pacific could have been done without Congress, and he
hoped nothing was contemplated which was not pacific." On the 6th of
July Mr. Jefferson yielded the chair to Mr. Bradford, of Rhode Island, who
became president //'<? tcmporc of the Senate, according to custom ; he left
Philadelphia the same day and reached home the nth, adjournment not
taking place until the I2th.

The declension by Mr. Madison of the appointment as one of the min
isters plenipotentiary to France resulted in the appointment of Elbridge
Gerry, of Massachusetts, in conjunction with C. C. Pinckney and John Mar
shall. Gerry was a member of the republican party ; Pinckney and
Marshall were federalists. On their arrival in Paris, the two latter were
refused letters of hospitality, and Gerry was requested to remain, which he
was constrained to do in an unofficial capacity. He was informed that
his retirement in the present state of affairs would result in a declaration
of war. Mr. Gerry remained, although he was well aware that his pri
vate business would suffer during his absence, as it did, resulting in his
financial ruin. He had been warmly urged by Mr. Jefferson to accept the
mission. The latter wrote him : " If we engage in a war during our present
passions, and our present weakness in some quarters, our union runs the
greatest risk of not coming out of that war in the shape in which it enters it.
My reliance for our preservation is in your acceptance of this mission. I
know the tender circumstances which will oppose themselves to it. But its

AARON BURR.

ELECVKD VICE PRESIDENT.

duration will be short, and its reward long. You have it in your power, by
accepting and determining the character of the mission, to secure the pres
ent peace and eternal union of your country. If you decline on motives of
private pain, a substitute may be named who has enlisted his passions in
the present contest, and, by the preponderance of his vote in the mission,
may entail on us calamities, your share in which as your feelings, will out
weigh whatever pain a temporary absence from your family could give you."
Alexander Hamilton was jealous of place and power. lie believed
himself the greatest political leader in America, and could he precipitate
war with France he would also be the greatest military leader. His efforts
were not directed to the consideration of peace propositions, but rather to
the fomenting of discord. He must, in the nature of attendant circum
stances, be very circumspect, and outwardly assume to desire peace, while
he was slyly intriguing for war. At the very time Gerry, Pinckney, and
Marshall were endeavoring to come to terms with France, he was plotting
with a South American, one Miranda, who was in correspondence with the
British minister, Pitt, with the design of securing possession of Florida, and
the Spanish colonies in South America. The refusal of France to receive
the commissioner* was sufficient to arouse President Adams, and engage
him in preparations for defense. These actions did not escape the far-
seeing mind of Jefferson from his seat in the Vice President's chair.
He endeavored to enlighten the public on the questions at issue, at
at the same time he restrained the impetuous and over-anxious. Madison
was solicited to write articles for the press, on the side of peace. Some
prominent and influential men of the southern states thought the time had
come to cut loose from the Union, but this did not at all accord with
the pronounced views of Jefferson, who sa\v in the Union the great element
of strength and prosperity. 'I he message of the President, delivered to
Congress in March, 1798, inflamed that body, and there was for a time
grave doubt that peace would be maintained. The republican party was in a
small minority and the federalists were triumphant. Jefferson never swerved
from the course he had followed for years, — the course demanded if he
would see the United States remain a compact body, gaining strength with
each year of its existence. To him, and others of like view, is due the
preservation of peace at that time. A great amount of correspondence was
carried on between the United States and France, concerning the complica
tions that had arisen. President Adams finally became convinced that the
directory of France was desirous for peace between the two nations. In
fact, it immediately took measures to prevent its naval vessels from doing
any further act on the high seas that would be liable to precipitate
war. The return of Flbridge Gerry from the French capital, the 1st of
October, 1/98, put a new face on the matter. lie had been detained at
Havre until the director}' had furnished him a cop}' of an order to the naval

4O2 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

commander in the waters of the West Indies restraining the detention and
spoliation of American merchantmen. Mr. Gerry's report, together with
subsequent communications through official channels, led to the appoint
ment of a commission which executed a treaty that has secured peace from
that time to this.

In the month of October, 1800, the seat of government was removed to
Washington, then a city on paper with little more than the incomplete
public buildings to promise that it would be anything other. Members of
Congress were obliged to take up their quarters at Georgetown, three miles
distant, over roads as nearly impassable during portions of the year as it is
possible to conceive, or live in half finished buildings, perhaps with neither
windows nor doors. One house of entertainment was situated some forty
rods from the capital. Gouverneur Morris aptly describes the embryo city
to a lady acquaintance in Europe. He says: " We want nothing here but
houses, cellars, kitchens, well-informed men, amiable women, and other
little trifles of this kind to make our city perfect ; for we can walk here as if
in the fields and woods, and, considering the hard frost, the air of the city
is very pure. I enjoy more of it than anyone else, for my room is filled
with smoke whenever the door is shut. If, then, you are desirous of coming
to live at Washington, in order to confirm you in so fine a' prospect, I hasten
to assure you, that freestone is very abundant here; that excellent bricks
can be burned here; that there is no want of sites for magnificent hotels;
that contemplated canals can bring a vast commerce to this place ; that the
wealth, which is its natural consequence, must attract the fine arts hither;
in short, that it is the very best city in the world for a future residence.

SUCCEEDS JOHN ADAMS AS PRESIDENT.

CHAPTER VI.

SUCCEEDS JOHN ADAMS AS PRESIDENT.

DURING the last session of the sixth Congress, cr.ucuses were held
by both parties for the nomination of candidates for President and
Vice President. Hamilton was soured by disappointment caused by the
failure of his schemes against France in attacking the Spanish possessions in
South America, and refused to support Adams for the Presidency. He first
attempted to draw Washington into his net, but this proving impossible he
endeavored to elect General C. C. Pinckney, who was nominated to the sec
ond place on the federal ticket, Adams being accorded the first. The result
was a division in the party that could but be disastrous. If Hamilton could
secure the state of New York to the federalist part}' his plan was assured,
for the south could be expected to furnish enough votes to elect Mr. Pinck
ney P.resident, leaving for Mr. Adams the second place. The state election
in New York was held in April, but a month elapsed before the result was
known. It proved an overwhelming defeat to Hamilton, and also put a
damper on the expectations of Mr. Adams.

The candidates of the republican part}' were Thomas Jefferson for
President, and Aaron Burr for Vice President. A change had taken place
in the two parties. During the excitement consequent on probable war with
France the republican part}- had dwindled to insignificant proportions. The
signing of a treat}- of peace reinforced its ranks until it became stronger
than ever before. The result of the election in New York inspired hope of
ultimate success to the part}'. P>urr, the candidate for Vice President, was
an unscrupulous schemer who would stop at nothing for the accomplishment
of his ends. The defeat of the federal part}- in New York was parti}- to be
attributed to his efforts in causing the names of Brockholst Livingston and
George Clinton to be placed on the republican ticket, thus securing the
votes and influence of these powerful families and their adherents to the
party, though they were personally inimical to himself. When the result of

-404 THOMAS JEFFEJK3OV.

the vote was known to be against the federalists, Burr sought by intrigue to
secure a majority of the electoral college, which would elect himself to the
first place on the ticket, and compel Jefferson to accept the second place, or
decline to serve.

The election of 1800 was closely contested, and not until the ballots
were cast did people breathe freely. Then ensued a few weeks of compar
ative quiet. On the iith of February, 1801, the two houses of Congress
met for the purpose of opening the electoral certificates. It was found that
Thomas Jefferson had seventy-three; Aaron Burr seventy-three; John
Adams sixty-five; Charles C. Pinckney sixty-four; John Jay one vote
This threw the election into the House of Representatives, which withdrew
to its hall, and organized. It was resolved that no motion for adjournment
be in order until the result could be announced. On the first ballot, eight
states voted for Jefferson, six for Burr, and two were equally divided. Seven
ballots were taken with like result, when the House took a recess. Ballot
ing was continued from day to day until the i/th. when the thirty-sixth
ballot decided the contest, ten states voting for Thomas Jefferson, and four
for Aaron Burr. Delaware and South Carolina voted blanks, as did Mary
land, which state had previously voted for Burr. The vote was thus made
•unanimous — Jefferson for President, and Burr for Vice President. That
Mr. Burr was much chagrined at the result of his schemes is evident from
his future course. It is believed his disappointment in the election was the
cause of his treasonable attempts of a few years later.

On the 4th of March, 1801, Thomas Jefferson entered the Senate
chamber to take the oath of office as President of the United States.
Aaron Burr had already entered upon the duties of Vice President, and
taken his seat as presiding officer of the Senate. With the entrance of Mr.
Jefferson Mr. Burr gave up the chair and took a seat at the right. The
chief justice occupied the seat on the left. Mr. Jefferson delivered his
inaugural address, — a very moderate and carefully worded paper, which sur
prised many, both of his friends and enemies. He was disposed to con
ciliate as far as possible, at the same time that he relinquished not one iota
of the republican principles for which he had so long labored. After the
delivery of the address the oath of office was administered by the chief
justice. A noticeable r*nd deliberate slight was thrown upon the incoming
President in the absence of ex-President Adams and the speaker of the
House of Representatives. Mr. Adams had ungraciously taken his depar
ture from the city in the early morning; the cause of absence of the speaker
is unknown. After the close of the exercises connected with the inaugura
tion, many persons of both parties called upon the President and Vice Pres
ident.

March 5th, the President sent to the Senate the names of persons he
had selected to serve as members of his cabinet. They were : James Mad-

SUCCEEDS JOHN ADAMS AS PRESIDENT. 405

ison, of Virginia, secretary of state ; Henry Dearborn, of Massachusetts,
secretary of war ; and Levi Lincoln, of Massachusetts, attorney-general,
all of whom were confirmed by the Senate 'on the same day. May I4th he
sent in the names of Albert Gallatin, of Pennsylvania, for the office of sec
retary of the treasury. Samuel Smith, of Maryland, served as secretary of
the navy from the 1st to the 1 5th of April, when his brother, Robert Smith,
succeeded him in that office. Gideon Granger, of Connecticut, was con
firmed as postmaster-genen'l, the 26th of January, 1802. Rufus King was
accredited minister to England, and Robert R. Livingston to France.

Man\' strictures have been made regarding the action of President Jef
ferson in writing a letter to Thomas Paine, then in France, allowing him to
return to the United States in a government vessel. Paine's pronounced
atheistical views had particularly embittered the New Fngland clergy, and
from their pulpits and by means of pamphlets the}' attacked both the man
and his principles. Jefferson was not omitted in their denunciations. They
overlooked the great services of Paine to the country in opposing British
aggressions, and in signing the declaration of independence, and looked
only at his infidelity. There was just ground for the course pursued by the
President. Paine was a citizen of the United States, alone in a foreign
country. By birth a subject of Great Britain, what was more likel}' than
that he would be impressed into the British service by an}' armed vessel
prosecuting the search, then claimed by that nation? Justice to the man
who had so nobly stood by the colonies in the struggle for freedom
demanded that he be accorded the full protection afforded by the flag he
had been in no small measure instrumental in unfurling to the sisterhood of
nations.

Among the most weighty problems to be solved by President Jefferson
was that of the removal of officers connected with the federalist party.
The principle enunciated at a later da}- by William L. Marcy, that "to the
victors belong the spoils," had not been established. Men fitted to fill the
offices the}' held were generally retained, and not removed to give place to
the supporters of the incoming President. But there was good reason for
the removal of some of the later appointees under the preceding adminis
tration. President Adams had made appointments as late as nine o'clock
of the night on which his term as President would expire, with the un
doubted intention of defrauding Mr. Jefferson of his choice in the matter.
It was at once decided that these appointments should not be recognized;
and Congress passed a law abolishing the offices. It seemed perfectly
proper that the President should select his own advisers, and this was con
ceded by the opposition. Several persons in office must be dismissed for
cause, and further, a balance should be made between federal and republican
officers. Heretofore none but members of the party in power had held
office, except in one or two cases, in the higher grades. Even these

4O6 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

changes called forth much vituperation and abuse from the federalists, while
the members of his own party were greatly incensed that all federalists were
not removed. Jefferson aimed at establishing principles, and his course
seems the best that could have been followed under the circumstances.

Another important measure in the early part of his administration was
directed to the punishment of the Barbary powers for their piratical acts
committed upon American vessels and the holding of captives in slavery
until ransomed by the payment of large sums of money. He dispatched
Commodore Dale, with four of the six naval vessels retained in commission,
to check and punish these aggressions. One of the war vessels of Tripoli
engaged the smaller of these vessels, a sloop under command of Lieutenant
Sterrett, and was captured without the loss of a man. Having no authority
to bring the captured vessel into port, she was allowed to go, being com
pletely disabled from further service. This was the beginning of retributive
measures that, followed up by Decatur, Bainbridge, Barren, Truxton, and
others, brought the corsairs to terms. The result could have been attained
years before had decisive action been taken, thus preventing much suffering
endured by captives, and the expenditure of large sums of money for their
ransom. Previous to this time tribute money had been paid annually to
these powers to insure their non-interference with American vessels.

State ceremony was effectually done away with at the beginning of the
new administration. A new order of things was instituted. The President's
levees were a thing of the past ; instead of the ceremony of marching to the
capitol to deliver his annual message, a messenger was dispatched to Con
gress ; the reply was received in the same unostentatious manner, instead
of observing the formality of Congress marching to the President's house for
its delivery ; the diplomatic establishment in Europe was reduced to three
ministers ; the army was reorganized and the navy reduced ; all superfluous
offices Avere abolished. Some ladies and gentlemen in Washington, who
desired a continuance of the levees, formed a plan to that end. They gath
ered at the Presidential mansion in full dress, at the usual time for the recep
tion. Mr. Jefferson happened to be riding on their arrival, and on his
return, being informed of what had occurred, entered the reception room in
his riding dress, top boots, spurs, riding whip, and garments soiled with
mud. He expressed much pleasure at meeting so many of his friends,
cordially shook hands and conversed with them, and allowed none to go
without pressing them to remain longer. Those present acknowledged
themselves outwitted, and never repeated the experiment.

Congress met, as usual, on the /th of December. Mr. Macon was
chosen speaker, and Mr. Buckley clerk of the House. The President did
not, as had been the custom, open Congress with a formal speech, but
instead transmitted to the Vice President, as president of that body, his
annual message, accompanying it with a communication explanatory of his

SUCCEEDS JOHN ADAMS AS PRESIDENT.

407

reason for so doing. It is worthy of insertion in this connection. It reads:
"SiR, — The circumstances under which we find ourselves at this place ren
dering inconvenient the mode heretofore practiced of making, by personal
address, the first communications between the legislative and executive
branches, I have adopted that by message, as used on all subsequent occa
sions through the session. In doing this I have had principal regard to the
convenience of the legislature, to the economy of their time, to their relief
from the embarrassment of immediate answers on subjects not yet fully
before them, and to the benefits thence resulting to the public affairs.
Trusting that a procedure, founded on these motives, will meet their appro
bation, I beg leave, through you, sir, to communicate the enclosed copy,
with the documents accompanying it, to the honorable body the Senate, and
pny you to accept for yourself and them, the homage of my high regard and
consideration."

In his message the President recommended several important measures,
most of which received due consideration and attention. The judiciary act
passed during the preceding session was repealed, by one majority in the
Senate, and by a vote of fifty-nine to thirty-two in the House. The census
of l.Xoo showed the aggregate population of the United States to be five
million three hundred and five thousand nine hundred and twenty-five.
Accordingly a new apportionment bill was passed, fixing the ratio of congres
sional representation at one member for each thirty thousand population.
This gave the I louse one hundred and forty-one members. An act was
passed establishing the army on a pence footing, consisting of one regiment
of artillery and two regiments of infantry. The naval establishment was
limited to six vessels. Internal taxes on stills, domestic distilled spirits,
refined sugars, licenses to retailers, sales at auction, carriages for the con
veyance of persons, stamped vellum, parchment, paper, etc., were abolished.
The naturalization laws were reconstructed, placing them on the old footing
— five years residence and three years previous oath of intention to become
a permanent resident before papers were issued; provision was made for
the redemption of the whole of the United States debt; and laws pro
vided to regulate trade and preserve peace with the Indian tribes on the
frontier. Other important acts were passed which it is impracticable to
mention here.

The right of the United States to unimpeded navigation of the Missis
sippi river to New Orleans, was refused by Spain in the autumn of 1802.
Great indignation was expressed by the people of the western settlements
over this action ; in fact the entire country was aroused. Soon thereafter
the government received intimation that Spain was about transferring her
right of possession in Louisiana to France. A change of this nature was
manifestly to the disadvantage of the United States. As long as Spain
remained in possession no danger was to be feared, but should France secure

4O8 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

this vast territory and be enabled to successfully colonize it, the outlet to
the Mississippi would be practically closed to our commerce. The only
course to be followed in such case, would be its purchase from France, or
an alliance, offensive and defensive, with England. France did secure
Louisiana. Bonaparte perfected plans to colonize the territory. President
Jefferson instructed Mr. Livingston to purchase the country for two million
dollars, if it could be done without compromising our relations with England.
Efforts to this end were made, and for a long time repelled, but eventually
the first consul found it would be impracticable to hold the country ; besides,
France would run great danger of losing her West India possessions. Mr.
Monroe was dispatched to Paris to assist Mr. Livingston, and fully empow
ered to make the purchase. France was on the eve of war with England,
and no time wras to be lost if she expected to receive any compensation in
the transaction. A convention was called and definite treaty arrangements
entered into by which Louisiana was ceded to the United States, on the
payment of a gross sum amounting to about fifteen million dollars. The
United States was to pay certain claims of its citizens against France, for
property seized and destroyed on the high seas, amounting in all to some
three million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The ports of
Louisiana were to be open to French vessels for a term of twelve years, on
paying the same duties as were required of American vessels. The ceded
country was to be admitted into the Union as soon as the Constitution
permitted. More than one million square miles and a population of ninety
thousand souls, including slaves, were thus secured to the United States
on the most reasonable terms. The purchase of Louisiana received any
thing but favorable consideration from the federalists, of whom but one
member in the Senate voted for the treaty. It \vas claimed no evidence
existed of a treaty of cession from Spain to France, and therefore WTC had
no legal title to the territory. Some claimed its acquisition would prove a
curse to us ; others that fifteen million dollars was an enormous price to
pay, but time proven the purchase to be of great advantage to the country.
Recognizing the importance of thorough and accurate knowledge of the
vast extent of country acquired by the United States with their independ
ence, Mr. Jefferson, while minister to France, suggested to Ledyard, the
traveler, an exploration of western North America. Nothing came of it,
ho\vever. In 1792 he made a similar proposition to the American Philosoph
ical society; and Michaux, the celebrated traveler and botanist, proceeded
as far as Kentucky, when he \vas recalled by the French minister. In
January, 1803, in a confidential message to Congress, the President recom
mended an appropriation for this purpose. It was granted, and he appointed
Captain Meriwether Lewis, who had been his private secretary nearly two
years, to the command of an expedition, with Captain Jonathan Clark,
brother of General George Rogers Clark, as his second officer. Their

SUCCEEDS JOHN ADAMS AS PRESIDENT. 409

travels extended to the Pacific ocean on the west, and the Columbia river on
the north, and the reports they sent in from time to time gave a more
definite idea of our natural resources in this hitherto unexplored region than
had ever been known. It was Mr. Jefferson also, who set on foot the expe
dition of Lieutenant Zebulon M. Pike, the discoverer of Pike's Peak, and
the explorer of the upper waters of the Mississippi.

During the session of the Congress of 1804 a republican caucus was
held to nominate candidates for President and Vice President. Aaron Burr,
who had served the term with Jefferson, had lost the confidence of the party
that elected him, and was not to be thought of for continuance in office. The
ticket was formed with Thomas Jefferson for President, and George Clinton
for Vice President. The latter had been the revolutionary governor of New
York, and stood high with all classes. The federalist party put in nomina
tion Charles C. Pinckney, who had been their nominee for the second place
on the ticket at the preceding election, and Rufus King. An amendment
to the Constitution had been adopted some time previously, providing that
the President and Vice President be separately voted for to prevent the order
of office being changed in case of an election by the Mouse being again
required. The result was decided in the electoral college, which gave
Thomas Jefferson one hundred and sixty-two votes for President, against
fourteen cast for Charles C. Pinckney. George Clinton was elected Vice
President by a like vote. The federalists had fought with the rage of despair,
and as a power in the nation they were henceforth to be almost a nullity.
The second inauguration of Mr. Jefferson as President took place March 4,
1805, he being at the time in the sixty-second year of his age. Some
changes took place in the cabinet. Mr. Lincoln, the attorney-general,
resigned, and was eventually succeeded by John Breck en ridge, of Kentucky.

4IO THOMAS JEFFERSON,

CHAPTER VII.

SECOND TEEM AS PRESIDENT— BURR'S CONSPIRACY.

MANY important measures were carried into effect during the first year
of Mr. Jefferson's second administration which it is not possible in
this connection even to mention. Suffice it to say that the war with Tripoli
and Algiers \vas brought to a successful issue, not, however, without the
loss of many brave men. Friendly relations were established with France,
and England began to show signs of hostility, which, however, did not cul
minate until the declaration of war in 1812. By his refusal to appoint John
Randolph, of Roanoke, minister to England, an office for which that gentle
man's ungovernable temper and lack of self-control particularly unfitted
him, Jefferson incurred Randolph's future opposition and undying hatred.
The President's recommendation to Congress that two million dollars be
appropriated for the purpose, if practicable, of purchasing from Spain the
territory of Florida, received its concurrence, and that sum was voted.
Miranda, who had schemed in England and France with the intent to invade
the Spanish possessions in South America, had failed in his object but with
no interference from the government had enlisted the sympathies of two gen
tlemen of New York, William J. Smith and Samuel J. Ogden, who fitted
out a vessel for the purpose of such expedition, which not proving a suc
cess Miranda made another attempt in 1812, was captured and carried to
Spain, where he died some four years later. Measures were instituted for
the trial of Ogden and Smith for violation of the neutrality laws, but it
appearing they had been given the tacit countenance of leading men in the
government, the matter was dropped.

In the autumn of 1805 \vas developed the conspiracy of Aaron Burr to
take forcible possession of the territory of Louisiana, and found a western
empire. He had lost the confidence of his party, was under indictment in
the states of New York and New Jersey for murder in the killing of Alex
ander Hamilton in a duel, and was rendered desperate by failure in the

SECOND TERM AS PRESIDENT. 41 1

gratification of his ambition and by the loss of his fortune. He attempted to
enlist Generals Wilkinson and Eaton, Commodore Truxton, and all persons
he thought had grievances against the administration, in the enterprise. Burr
continued his preparations with all secrecy possible during 1806, and in Jan
uary, 1807, proceeded to Mississippi and encamped with about one hundred
men a few miles above Natchez. The governor of the territory made prep
arations for his arrest, but he was allowed his freedom upon giving recogni
zance to appear before the territorial court. The grand jury called to
examine the case found no evidence of any overt act being committed, and
he was allowed to go free. In February he was arrested by officers of
General Wilkinson's command, while attempting to escape through Ala
bama, lie was taken to Richmond, where he arrived March 26th ; was
handed over to the civil authorities, and after examination before Judge
Marshall, was charged with misdemeanor; the charge of high treason not
being sustained. Burr was admitted to bail in the sum of ten thousand
dollars. On trial he was declared not guilty as against the state of Vir
ginia, but was ordered committed on the same charge preferred by the states
of Ohio. Bail was fixed at three thousand dollars. This being secured he
was released, but forfeited his recognizance and fled to England. He was
finally ordered to leave that country, and afterwards spent some time in
Sweden, German}' and France, at times on the verge of starvation. Not
until 181 I was he allowed to leave I 'ranee. Finally he embarked for Amer
ica, but the vessel was captured and lie was taken to England, where he
remained, reduced to sore straits, until March, 1812; he was then able to
raise money to pay his passage to Boston, where he arrived in disguise.
Finding the government ignored him, he opened a law office in Xew York,
making a bare subsistence. The last two years of his life he was helpless
from paralysis, and subsisted on the bounty of friends until his death, on
the 1 4th of September. 1836.

On the 22d of June, 1807, occurred an act of British insolence that
roused the nation to the point of war. In the morning of that day the
frigate Cliesapcakc left her moorings at Hampton Roads, bound on a cruise
to the Mediterranean. The British frigate Leopard lifted her anchor at the
same time and stood out ahead of the Chesapeake. In the afternoon the
Leopard signaled her wish to communicate with the CJicsapcakc. She
claimed the right, under orders of the vice-admiral, to search the Amer
ican frigate for deserters. This was promptly refused, although the Chesa
peake was not prepared for action, her decks being encumbered and her
munitions unprepared. The Leopard opened fire and soon disabled the
frigate, which struck her colors, firing one gun as the flag touched the taf-
frail. Four sailors were taken from the crew, one of whom was afterwards
hanged and the remainder pressed into British service. When information of
this outrage was received, resolutions were passed in many seaports to hold

JI2 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

no further intercourse with British vessels until some action should be taken
by the government. Public indignation was aroused from end to end of
the country, and demand made for an immediate declaration of war. Pres
ident Jefferson dispatched to England a vessel, bearing instructions to our
minister to demand reparation for the insult we had received. On the 2d
of July he issued a proclamation forbidding British vessels entrance to any
harbor of the United States unless in distress or bearing dispatches. Prep
arations for defense were made at New York, Charleston, and New Orleans.
British ships in the Chesapeake were cut off from all communication with
the shore. Commodore Decatur was ordered to attack the British fleet,
should they attempt to enter the Elizabeth river, and Commodore Rodgers
received similar orders at New York. In the late autumn an embargo act
was passed in the Senate, prohibiting the sailing of any vessel from any
port of the United States, for any foreign port, except such vessels as were
already laden ; and that coasting vessels be required to give bond that they
would trade only with ports in the United States. This measure met with
determined opposition from the federalists, who claimed it was done in the
interest of France in her war with England. On the I3th of January, 1808,
Mr. Rose, a special minister from the British government, to adjust the dif
ficulties arising from the C/icsapcakc and Leopard affair, arrived in Wash
ington. His proposals were such as could not be entertained by this
country, and he returned during the latter part of March. The legislatures
of eleven states and territories endorsed the embargo act, as did many
political organizations and religious bodies. The act remained in force until
the 1st of March, 1809, when it was repealed. General measures were
taken for defense, provision was made for raising an army, and the naval
forces were strengthened. The wrar feeling gradually increased, until it was
finally gratified by the beginning of hostilities in the war of 1812.

Much difficulty being experienced in the northern part of the coun
try in enforcing the embargo act, particularly in intercourse with Can
ada, an enforcement act was passed December 22, 1807. Mr. Quincy,
of Massachusetts, a prominent federalist, called in question certain acts of
the President in continuing in office persons wrho had resigned or declined
to serve in the enforcement of the embargo. In a note in his Life of
Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Randolph gives full particulars of Mr. Quincy's efforts
to impeach the President. He says: "On the 26th of January, Mr.
Quincy had risen 'to perform a great duty.' It was a 'painful ' duty, but
the occasion called for it ! ' Every member c who had reason to believe a
high crime or misdemeanor had been committed, was bound to state that
opinion to the House, and move such an inquiry as the nature of the sup
posed offense demanded.' He then stated that 'Benjamin Lincoln, Esq.,'
collector of the port of Boston, offered his resignation to the President at
the end of 1806, and again in 1807 ; assigning at both times his utter inabil-

SECOND TF.RM AS PRESIDENT. 4.13

ity from age and infirmity to perform the duties of the office ; that on the
first occasion the President promised to appoint a successor, and on the
second made no answer ; that consequently the incumbent held the place a
year longer ; that the office had been ' thus kept in effect vacant for more
than two years,' to reserve it for 'a favorite of the Executive, Henry Dear-
1) >rn, secretary of war.1 As a pieliminary to impeachment, he offered two
resolutions, asking the President to lay his correspondence with Mr. Lincoln
before the House, and to appoint a committee to inquire into the facts.
The House by a vote of ninety-three to twenty-four agreed to consider the
resolutions. Mr. Ouincy made a speech. He thought it a high offense that
the United States had been kept paying an individual five thousand dollars
against his own wishes.

"This 'Benjamin Lincoln, Ksq.,' was one of the oldest, if not the
oldest, surviving major-general of the revolutionary arm}*. He had been
appointed to the command of the southern department in 1/78; had com
manded at the fall of Charleston ; had led the central division at Vorktown ;
had served as secretary of war, and had subsequently held several civic and
diplomatic appointments. He had always been a decided federalist; and
had been made collector of Boston in 17^9, after being defeated fora re-elec
tion as lieutenant-governor by Samuel Adams. He never had actual!}' sent
in his resignation, until after the passage of the enforcing law. The cruelty
and criminality of retaining him two years longer in a lucrative office of
which he could perform the duties by deputy — and doing this for such a pur
pose, when any number of young and well-qualified republicans could have
been found willing to take the place, though but for that short period — gave
great diversion to many of the members. Others possessing less humor,
treated Mr. Ouincy and his proposed impeachment with anything but
sportiveness. At length the important vote drew on. The yeas and nays
were called on the resolutions. The yeas stood one (Mr. Ouincy) — the nays
one hundred and seventeen."

The close of Jefferson's second term was approaching. During the
session of Congress in the winter of iSoS, January 191!], a caucus was called
for the nomination of candidates to be voted for at the fall election. The
legislatures of Massachusetts, Vermont, Rhode Island, New York, Pennsyl
vania, Maryland, New Jersey, and North Carolina had solicited Mr. Jeffer
son's continuance in office. To each he made the same reply, expressing
the opinion that no person should occupy the President's chair longer than
two terms. His answer is well worth preserving in these pages:

"That I should lay clown my charge at a proper period, is as much a
duty as to have borne it faithfully. If some termination to the services of
the chief magistrate be not fixed by the constitution, or supplied by prac
tice, his office, nominally for years, will, in fact, become for life; and his
tory shows how easily that degenerates into an inheritance. Believing that

4 14 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

a representative government, responsible at short periods ot election, is
that which produces the greatest sum of happiness to mankind, I feel it a
duty to do no act which shall essentially impair that principle; and I should
unwillingly be the person who, disregarding the sound precedent set by an
illustrious predecessor, should furnish the first example of prolongation
beyond the second term of office. Truth, also, requires me to add, that I
am sensible of that decline which advancing years bring on ; and feeling
their physical, I ought not to doubt their mental effect. Happy if I am
the first to perceive and to obey this admonition of nature, and to solicit a
retreat from cares too great for the wearied faculties of age."

There were two strong candidates before the caucus, both warm per
sonal and political friends of Mr. Jefferson — James Madison and James
Monroe. Both were well fitted by education and attainments for the
responsible office; but Monroe's time had not yet come. It was a pre
determined fact that he would not receive a majority of the votes in caucus,
and many of his friends purposely remained away. James Madison received
eighty-three votes for President; George Clinton three, and Monroe three.
For Vice-President George Clinton received seventy-nine votes, John Lang-
don five, General Dearborn three, and John Ouincy Adams one. The fed
eralists put in nomination for President Charles C. Pinckney ; for Vice-Pres
ident Rufus King. Considerable latent opposition to the embargo act had
strengthened that party, and it worked with energy. The republican party
was divided against itself, though two of its candidates ostensibly withdrew
from the caucus. The result was, Mr. Pinckney and Mr. King each
received forty-seven votes in the electoral college. The republicans elected
James Madison President, by one hundred and twenty-two votes ; and
George Clinton Vice-President, by one hundred and thirteen votes.

Addresses of confidence and acknowledgment of the debt of gratitude
the country owed its retiring President, poured in upon Mr. Jefferson. They
came from legislatures, conventions — state, county, and town, — from polit
ical, ecclesiastical, military, and other associations. They were such as
must have touched the heart of the pure and patriotic man, who had
through life preferred his country's good to his own immediate advantage.
In June, 1808, months before .the election, General Armstrong wrote the
President, from France, strongly advising the immediate occupation of
Florida, This called from Mr. Jefferson the enunciation of the sentiment
which was the germ of the Monroe doctrine. He wrote the governor of
Louisiana, under date of October 28th, 1808 : "The patriots of Spain have
no warmer friends than the administration of the United States, but it is
our duty to say nothing and to do nothing for or against either. If they
succeed, we shall be well satisfied to see Cuba and Mexico remain in their
present dependence ; but very unwilling to see them in that of either France
or England, politically or commercially. We consider their interests and

SECOND TERM AS PRESIDENT. 415

ours as the same, and that the object of both must be to exclude all
European influence from this hemisphere. We wish to avoid the necessity
of going to war, till our revenue shall be entirely liberated from debt
Then it will suffice for war without creating new debt or taxes."

The administration of Thomas Jefferson closed March 4, 1809. On
the same day he witnessed the inauguration of his successor, James
Madron. Soon afterward he retired to the quiet and peaceful home life he
had so long desired, from which neither party turmoils nor necessity ever
recalled him.

Near the close of President Madison's first term, a faction in the repub
lican party became dissatisfied with the conduct of the war, and in consult
ing upon an available successor, who would prosecute hostilities to a speedy
termination, agreed upon Mr. Jefferson. He was approached upon the sub
ject, but adhered to his original idea as to the term of service of any Presi
dent. The results to be apprehended, should no restraint be put upon
ambition, he feared would prove disastrous to a republican form of govern
ment. He cordially commended Mr. Madison to the undivided support of
his part}', and expressed confidence in his ability and good judgment in direct
ing affairs to a successful issue. A little later another proposition was made
him, — that he become secretary of state in the cabinet of Mr. Madison, in
place of Mr. Monroe, who would then succeed Mr. Kustis in the war
department. In a letter to Colonel Duane, dated October 1st, he gave
reasons why he could not serve the country in any capacity. He said "he
possessed so much of the Roman principle, as to deem it honorable for
the general of yesterday to act as corporal to-day, if his services could be
useful to his country; holding that to be false pride which postponed the
public good to any private or personal considerations. . . The hand

of age was upon him, and the decay of bodily faculties apprised him that
those of the mind could not bo unimpaired, had he not better proofs."
Mr. Madison himself followed this proposal with another to the same effect,
but Mr. Jefferson could not be induced again to enter public life.

Albemarle academy was established at Charlottesville in 1803, and lea
a precarious existence until 1814, when an effort was made to revive it. Mr.
Jefferson was invited to assist in its reorganization, and proposed its incor
poration as a college. The central counties of Virginia entered heartily into
the proposal, and raised the sum of sixty thousand dollars to forward the
work. A board of visitors was appointed, consisting of Mr. Jefferson, Mr.
Madison, Mr. Monroe, and several other distinguished gentlemen. They
were clothed with power to erect necessary buildings, and in February,
1816, the institution was incorporated as Central college. The college, sup
ported and strengthened by the names and influence of its president visitors,
rapidh' grew in popularity. It was then that Mr. Jefferson renewed his
suggestion of a. comprehensive plan of education. A few clays after its

41 6 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

incorporation the directors of the college were instructed by the legislature
of the state to report upon a system for a university, and such colleges,
academies, and schools as were advisable to secure a general course of edu
cation for the people of the state. The ensuing year a bill was passed
appropriating the sum of forty-five thousand dollars annually for the sup
port of an university, to be called the University of Virginia, which soon
absorbed the Central college, and wras located on its site. In January, 1819,
the law was passed organizing the university, but the institution was not in
perfect operation until 1825. During these six years Mr. Jefferson had
much of the care of the erection of buildings for its use. To this enter
prise he devoted himself with unwearied assiduity, and upon his own
shoulders bore the burden of its supervision. The inception of the uni
versity was due to him. He subscribed one thousand dollars to the cause,
and through his personal influence secured the names of nine other gentle
men who subscribed like sums — George Divers, John Harris, Reuben
Lindsay, Sr. , James Monroe, Wilson C. Nicholas, and John Patterson, of
Albemane ; John H. Cocke, of Fluvana ; Joseph C. Cabell, of Nelson, and
James Madison, of Orange. In February, 1819, the first board of visitors
of the University of Virginia was chosen. It consisted of Thomas Jefferson,
James Madison, Chapman Johnson, James Breckenridge, Robert B. Taylor,
John H. Cocke, and Joseph C. Cabell. The board elected Mr. Jefferson
rector of the university, which office he held until the close of his life.

In the selection ot professors for the university Mr. Jefferson was
guided solely by fitness. He was much censured for his preference for
educated men from foreign countries, those condemning him being of the
opinion that suitably educated men could be found in the United States.
The appointment of Dr. Cooper, a reputed Unitarian, to a professorship,
called down on Mr. Jefferson the opposition of the clergy of the state, who
believed the doctor unorthodox, and unfit for service in the University of
Virginia. The legislature took up the matter, and, contrary to his wishes,
Mr. Jefferson was induced to cancel the engagement with Dr. Cooper. It
is unlikely that Mr. Jefferson was influenced in the remotest degree by the
religious opinions of any of the gentlemen called to take professorships in
the university. His appointment of Dr. Robert Dunglison, George Tucker,
Mr. Long, Mr. Bonnycastle, Mr. Key, and Dr. Emmet, who were Episco
palians ; and of Dr. Blaetterman, a Lutheran, sufficiently refutes the idea
that religion or non-religion had any influence.

Much of the time during the erection of the university buildings, Mr.
Jefferson was suffering from debility and exhaustion, but when the \veather
was favorable, he daily rode to the town of Charlottesville, a distance going
and returning of eight miles. He placed a telescope on one of the terraces
near his house, and when the weather or his state of health forbade riding to
the town, took frequent observations of the progress of the work. In the

FOUNDS THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. 4 17

construction of the buildings he sacrificed much of utility to arcnitectural
symmetry. Everything was conformed to his studied regard for the princi
ples of architectural design, and the result was a magnificent pile. The
buildings were erected on three sides of a square, two sides being devoted
to houses for the professors and apartments for the students, the other to
the rotunda and structures for the general uses of the college.

The attendance upon the university gradually increased, until, at the
breaking out of the war of the rebellion, it averaged six hundred and fifty.
During the war it was still kept open, and only once did the sound of com
bat approach it. In March, 1865, General Sheridan occupied the town with
a body of cavalry, and placed a guard over the property for its preservation,
Soon after the war the cause of education received a stimulus, and the num
ber of students reached five hundred, but in 1872 had declined to throe
hundred and sixty-five. Since that time a larger endowment has been
made, and the university is now in a flourishing condition.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

CHAPTER VIII

MARRIAGE-FAMILY-HOME AT MONTICELLO

WHILE yet a student of law in Williamsburg, and not arrived at man
hood's estate, Mr. Jefferson was first smitten by the blind god of
love. He formed an attachment for Miss Rebecca Burwell, a famed beauty
of the town, but his dreams were rudely broken by her sudden marriage
to another. The obscuring of his bright visions caused more intense appli
cation to his books. During the years of study preceding and following
this episode, were laid the foundations of that broad and liberal culture that
in after life so distinguished the man. His thirst for knowledge was insa
tiable ; in conversation he led the way to the subject with which his com
panion was most familiar, and by skilful questions and adroit reference
obtained information to be treasured and retained for future use. Following
this course he became well versed in almost every subject ; could discuss
mechanics with an engineer, medicine with a physician, law with a lawyer,
religion with a clergyman, with a definiteness and comprehension that led
each to believe him a member of the same profession. Perhaps no man
was more strongly attached to home, or took greater delight in the society
of friends. Between himself and his elder sister, Jane, there was much
in common. Both were possessed of intellectual abilities far above the
common, and each found in the other's society mental stimulus. Both were
devoted to music, and spent many evenings in the singing of hymns. The
death of the sister, in the fall of 1/65, at the age of twenty-eight, fell heavily
upon Jefferson, who ever cherished her memory, frequently in after life
speaking to his grand-children with affection, of her early influence in the
formation of his character.

His second affair of the heart resulted far differently from the first.
He made the acquaintance of Mrs. Martha Skelton, the young widow of
Bathurst Skelton, and daughter of John \Yayles, a lawyer of extensive
practice but of ordinary abilities. Mrs. Skelton was but twenty-three years

MARRIAGE FAMILY HOME AT MOXTICELLO. 419

of age, beautiful in character as she was in personal appearance, surrounded
by suitors for her hand and her not inconsiderable fortune. With a culti
vated talent for music, her charms were irresistible to Jefferson, and she was
no less attracted by the noble manhood of her suitor, coupled with his
intellectual attainments. Their marriage took place January I, 17/2, and
after the festivities that followed, the young couple set out upon the long
and tedious journey to Monticello.

Less than a year after marriage their eldest daughter, Martha, was born,
and two years later Jane, who died when eighteen months of age. Then
followed four others, of whom Maria only survived. The health of Mrs.
Jefferson had been visibly declining previous to the birth of her last child,
and caused Mr. Jefferson much anxiety. This it was that prevented his
acceptance of a mission to France in the early part of the war of the revo
lution. Mrs. Jefferson died September 6", 1782, leaving three children, one
an infant, to the care of her husband. Mr. Jefferson was prostrated with
grief, and it was weeks before he regained his self-control. Two years later,
during his absence in Kuropc, occurred the death of his infant child, Lucy,
After the death of his wife he devoted much care and attention to the edu
cation of his daughters, with whom he constantly corresponded during his
frequent absences from home. These letters are filled with fatherly solici
tude and love, and were written to encourage them in stud)' and improve
ment. When at home he made them his daily companions, and while
entering into their childish joys and sorrows, led them to habits of thought
that tended to the development of their mental capacities, and the acquire
ment of knowledge that proved a source of enjoyment during life.

In the fall of 1780 Mr. Jefferson returned from his mission to France,
and was called to President Washington's cabinet. lie spent a few weeks at
Monticello, and while there had the pleasure to see his eldest daughter,
Martha, married to Thomas Mann Randolph, a son of Randolph of Tucka-
hoe, and a young man of ability, possessed of an exceptionally good educa
tion, obtained at the University of Kdinburg. lie was a man of wealth,
fine figure and commanding appearance, and afterward served in the legis
lature and as governor of the state. Maria Jefferson was married on the
1 3th of October, 1707, to John \Yayles Kppes, her second cousin. She
became the mother of several children, and died April 17, 1804. Her death
was a severe affliction to her father.

In his habits Mr. Jefferson was methodical. He was always an early
riser, and seldom, indeed, was any one who called to see him on business
obliged to await his coming. In his connection of nearly twenty years as
overseer, Captain Kdmund Bacon says he but twice saw him idle in his
room, and on both these occasions he was suffering from illness. He
was a close and indefatigable student. Seldom was he without a book or
pen in his hand when in his room. His daughter, Mrs. Randolph, was very

THOMAS JEFFERSON.

like him. These two would sit for hours, he engaged in reading and
study; she at her work. In temper he was quiet and evenly balanced.
A careful watch was always kept over himself, and when anything went
amiss it was taken as a matter that was unavoidable and not worth worrying
over. His domestic relations were particularly pleasant. The early death
of his wife, whom he almost idolized, was a great shock to him. On her
death-bed she was much disquieted over the thought that another might
take her place who would not be a mother to her children. Mr. Jefferson
clasped her hand in his own, and solemnly promised never again to marry.
This promise he sacredly kept, though he might at any time have married
well.

The home at Shad well was destroyed by fire February i, 1770, his small
but cherished library being consumed at the time, the servants setting greater
value on his fiddle, which was carefully preserved. Although much inter
ested in music, his books were treasures he could ill spare, and no time was
lost in replacing them. Some time previously he had begun building at
Monticello, and fortunately the house was in condition for occupancy at the
time Shadwell was burned.

Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, is situated on the summit of
a little mountain, forming part of the southwest range of the Alleghanies,
and commands an extensive view of the country, except to the northeast
and southwest, this being the direction of the range. Twenty miles
distant to the south is seen the Blue ridge, the course being visible many
miles to the northeast, until it seems to terminate in the distance. The
mountain on which is situated the residence, is in the form of a sugar-
loaf. A road winds around its side to the summit. On the very top
the forest trees were removed, and ten acres of ground leveled, the re
mainder being left in its rugged state, except on the south, where a spot
was cleared for a kitchen garden. The house is a long building of moderate
height, with a Grecian portico in front and an octagonal tower. The prep
aration of ground for a garden was attended with much labor. It was
arranged in terraces, the rock being blasted for the walls, and then covered
with soil. In this garden were grown many and choice varieties of vege
tables and fruit. Mr. Jefferson took much pride in his farm and garden.
While in Washington, each season he procured plants, cuttings, and seeds
from the greenhouse of Mr. Maine, besides receiving many from foreign
countries. Professor Tucker, in his Life of Jefferson, says: "The entrance
from the portico was into a saloon decorated on either side writh horns of
elk, moose, and deer, Mexican antiquities, Indian dresses, weapons, and
ornaments, together with three or four pieces of statuary. At the farther
end of this hall were glass folding doors, which opened into an octagonal
drawing-room, and through the windows at the farther or west end was
seen a lawn of about two acres, skirtcu with forest trees, both native and

MARRIAGE FAMILY HOME AT MONTICELLO. 421

exotic. It had a neat parquet floor, the work of slaves, and the walls were
covered with paintings, a great proportion of which were portraits of eminent
statesmen and philosophers. To the right were the dining-room and other
apartments; to the left a suite of rooms appropriated to his own use. These
consisted of a library, bed-room, dressing-room, and a small apartment con
taining a work bench, and a large assortment of tools, where he used to
seek exercise for his body and recreation for his mind. In his library one
saw in every direction philosophical and mathematical instruments, miner-
alogical specimens, and the like, which indicated the varied intellectual tastes
and pursuits of the proprietor."

Under the house and terraces were the cisterns, cellar, kitchen, ice
houses, and rooms for other purposes. The servants' rooms were on one
side. No slave quarters were placed in the rear of the mansion, as was
usually the case on such plantations. Everything was arranged with the
same system as that employed in his house, and in his political and other
pursuits. The surroundings of Monticello were in keeping with the tastes
of its master, nothing incongruous or out of place.

422 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

CHAPTER IX.

HIS VIEWS ON SLAVERY— PECUNIARY TROUBLES— ILLNESS AND DEATH.

IN the President's message, on the assembling of Congress, the ist of
December, 1806, he called attention to the clause in the Constitution rela
tive to the slave trade, which provided that no prohibitory measures should go
into effect previous to 1808. He recommended that action be taken looking
to the prohibition of the slave trade to American citizens, although the time
to elapse before such law could take effect would be two years, and sug
gested that early action would prevent the organization of expeditions for
the capture of slaves just previous to the expiration of the constitutional
limitation.

Abstractly, and in its moral effect on the country at large, he believed
slavery was an evil. The system had been forced on the colonies while
they were yet weak, and the need of labor was pressing in every branch of
industry. The people had become accustomed to the institution, and its
abolishment would in great measure curtail the comforts of life. They had
come to believe that the same right of ownership existed in human beings
as in the lower animals, and they were regarded as so much stock capable
of adding to ease and wealth. England had early refused to restrict the
slave trade, which had brought fortunes to many of her subjects, and when
the colonies had gained their independence, the constitution that was
adopted prevented any interference with the traffic until the year 1808. Mr.
Jefferson was opposed to slavery on all grounds, and desired its abolition.
In his early life, soon after he entered the legislature of Virginia, he intro
duced a resolution providing for the emancipation of slaves. Most of his
associates were owners of human chattels, and were not possessed of his
belief in the equal rights of man, and as a natural consequence the resolu
tion was lost. Notwithstanding this, he asserted that the time would yet
come when slavery would cease to exist ; it might be after many years, and
it might be through great convulsions. Gradual emancipation was the

HIS VIEWS ON SLAVERY. 423

course he thought advisable; emancipation of all persons born in slavery
after a certain date. This to be followed by a certain degree of education,
which being attained, the freedmen should be colonized, not in this country,,
but where they would not come into association or conflict with Americans.
He believed the two races could never live in peace under the same govern
ment. The island of St. Domingo he thought a suitable place for their
colonization, as in that island were many of their own color; this being
inexpedient, he favored Liberia in preference to any portion of the South
American continent, where they would be brought into closer relationship
with us. He was opposed to the agitation of the slave question in other
than slave states, believing the people would see the evil of the institution
and provide for its ultimate abolition ; that outside agitation was opposed to
the spirit and intent of the Constitution. In all things he believed in the
sovereignty of individual states, and that to each belonged the"regulation of
all internal matters. When the ordinance of 1794 was adopted, he caused
the insertion of a section prohibiting the holding of slaves in the Northwest
Territory, then, or at any time in the future. His reasons for this, given
afterward, were that to recognize slaves as property in the territory north
west of the Ohio, would result in an immense increase in the African slave
trade, which was not yet prohibited, thus increasing the aggregate number
of slaves in the United States.

The Missouri Compromise met his unqualified disapproval. How
almost prophetic of the conflict that was to begin between the North and
South in 1861, was his letter to William Short, under date April 13, 1820:
"But the coincidence of a marked principle, moral and political, with
a geographical line, once conceived, I feared would never more be
obliterated from the mind ; that it would be recurring on every occasion
and renewing irritations, until it would kindle such mutual and mortal
hatred, as to render separation preferable to eternal discord. I have been
among the most sanguine in believing that our union would be of long
duration. I now doubt it much, and see the event at no great distance, and
the direct consequence 01 this question ; not by the line which has been so
confidenty counted on — the laws of nature control this — but by the Poto
mac, Ohio, Missouri, or more probably the Mississippi upwards to our
northern boundary." It would appear that while he favored the emanci
pation and expatriation of slaves, even to him the path was not clear ; with
his close and careful study of the question for years, he was no nearer its
solution than in the beginning. It remained for the solid argument of war to
determine the equal rights of all men to freedom and impartial justice.

It would seem almost an anomaly that Mr. Jefferson, who had so early
in life formed opinions so decidedly against the continuation of slavery, and
who in his later life still held to his early principles, did not at his death
manumit all slaves held by him. By a codicil to his will he provided

424 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

for the freedom of two of his faithful body servants, to go into effect
one year after his decease ; to them he gave the services of two others
until they should reach the age of twenty-one years, when they, too,
should be free. It is probable that the embarrassments under which he
labored for several years, caused him to harden his heart and leave the
remainder of his slaves the property of his daughter and grand-children,
and to provide for the 'payment of his debts. Under the laws of Virginia,
the debts must needs be satisfied before any property could be reserved by
will, and slaves being held as property, were included in the estate. As
the estate did not sell for enough to pay his debts Svithin forty thousand
dollars, the slaves were sacrificed with other personal property and real
estate.

The life of Mr. Jefferson, after his retirement from public service, was
was that of a quiet country gentleman. The greater portion of each day
was passed in superintending affairs connected with his estate. After
dinner he conversed with his friends, and the evening was generally occu
pied with reading. During the early morning he was usually to be
found in his study, reading and writing. His correspondence occupied
much time, embraced many and varied subjects, and extended to many
persons in foreign countries, besides prominent persons in his own country.
Up to this time his life had been so filled with political matters, and subjects
connected with the growth, development, and perpetuation of the republic,
as to forbid any attention to the subjects that had engrossed his mind to a
great extent in his earlier years. He had been unable to keep pace with the
growth and development of the sciences that had attracted his attention,
and when at last he was relieved from public duties and had time to devote
to their pursuit, the fascination they once had was vanished. He devoted
much time, however, to the study of classic literature. In his youth he had
loved poetry, but in his later years his taste for it declined. He always
delighted in the poetry of Homer, and never tired of the Athenian tragedies.
He read the works of Euripides, Sophocles, ^Eschuylus, Dante, Virgil,
Corneille, and others, in the original languages. The reviews of the day
he always found time to read, especially the Edinburgh Review, and kept
himself informed of contemporary literature and events occurring in the
world he had left. His acquaintance with Greek and Latin literature was
extensive, his library containing all the more important works.

Soon after his retirement he engaged in building a residence on his
Pjplar Forest estate, in Bedford county, near the city of Lynchburg,
some seventy miles distant from Monticello. This was a brick building of
one story front and, owing to the descending nature of the ground, two in
the rear, and was designed as a retreat from the influx of visitors constantly
coming and going at Monticello. Here he would sometimes spend several
weeks, always accompanied by two or more of his grandchildren, who

PECUNIARY TROUBLES. 425

enjoyed, as much as he himself did, these excursions and the quiet that
followed. Here he enjoyed social intercourse different fiom that at his more
pretentious home. At this place he, to a great degree, escaped the restraints
that the concourse imposed upon him. He interested himself in the
things that interested his young companions, took long walks and rides,
and occasionally accompanied them to the not far distant city, gratifying
their youthful tastes in the purchase of small articles at the shops and stores,
In his Poplar Forest home he had arranged four book-cases, containing the
library he had used in Washington ; the volumes selected being compact in
form, the whole containing what was almost a complete library of classic,
ancient, and modern literature. Life without books would have been an
impossibility to a man possessed of his cast of mind. The reading and
study of good books were at once his work, his pastime, and his rest.
Whatever may have been his religious views, he was a constant and diligent
reader of the Bible. By his enemies he was frequently accused of being
an atheist. His letters and conversation at various times do not lead to this
conclusion, however. In a letter to Dr. Vine Utley, dated at Monticello,
March 21, 1819, occurs the following passage: "I never go to bed with
out an hour or half an hour's previous reading of something moral, whereon
to ruminate in the intervals of sleep."

At a date several years earlier he gives more light on the moral reading
of this hour previous to retiring. He writes to his revolutionary friend,
Charles Thompson, under date January 9, 1816: "I, too, have made a wee-
little book from the same materials (referring to the reception by him of
Mr. Thompson's Harmony of the Four Gospels), which I call the Philosophy
of Jesus ; it is a paradigma of his doctrines, made by cutting the texts out
of the book, and arranging them on the pages of a blank book, in a certain
order of time or subject. A more beautiful or precious morsel of ethics I
have never seen ; it is a document in proof that / am a real Christian, that
is to say, a disciple of the doctrines of Jesus, very different from the Platon-
ists, who call vie infidel and thcmsches Christians and preachers of the Gos
pel, while they draw all their characteristic dogmas from what its author
never said, nor saw. They have compounded from the heathen mysteries a
system beyond the comprehension of man, of which the great reformer of
the vicious ethics and deism of the Jews, were he to return on earth, would
not recognize one feature. If I had time, I would add to my little book the
Greek, Latin, and French texts, in columns, side by side." It appears that
he soon after took time to make the arrangement of texts he proposed,
which were placed in a beautiful morocco-bound volume, and labeled on the
back, Morals of Jesus. In his collections for the Indians, designed to be
incorporated into a text book, unembarrassed, by questions beyond their
comprehension, he arranged comparative texts from the Gospels in
chronological order, from the birth to the death of Christ. It is believed

42(5 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

this presentation of the belief of Mr. Jefferson should forever set at rest the
prevalent idea that he was an atheist, or an infidel, in his religious views.
The original arrangement of these texts is at the present time in the pos
session of the descendants of Mr. Jefferson in his own handwriting, unless
they have been deposited in a safer place of keeping. Accurate copies may
be found in the Appendix to Randall's Life of Jefferson, obtained by the
author of that work, from the originals.

Soon after his retirement to Monticello friends, relatives, and acquaint
ances began their visits, which were sometimes prolonged to days, weeks,
months, and frequently to nearly .a year's duration. Open-handed hospi
tality was the rule in Virginia in those days, and to this same free-handed
practice, in great measure, were due the financial embarrassments that threw
a cloud over the later years of Mr. Jefferson's life. Perhaps the beginning
of this trouble should not be ascribed wholly to this cause. For several
years unfavorable weather and other causes reduced the quantity of the
annual crop to a minimum ; the embargo act which he had urged and pro
moted in the interest of the whole country, bore with greater force on the
planters of the Old Dominion than on any other class of people, and prices
of all commodities that were produced were ruinously low, while the cost
of all articles to be purchased was as extravagantly high. Bountiful crops
were gathered during the season of 1812, but the ninety-days embargo and
the blockade of the Chesapeake gave no opportunity for exportation, and
the produce from which so much was expected was of little value. The
crop of wheat was unusually large, but there being no market for it it was
led to stock and otherwise used. At the same time the money market was
in a deplorable state, credit was destroyed, and landed property worth next
to nothing. The Bank of the United States was chartered in 1816, and the
country was soon flooded with its issue of paper. Another era of wild spec
ulation set in. Everything bore fictitious values in the currency of the
times. By 1819 and 1820 the climax was reached ; no gold or silver was to
be had. The only recourse for the bank was to sell the property of its
debtors. Nearly all the sales of property were made by officers of the court,
and the purchasers were the bank, or creditors who had been hoarding specie.
Colonel Benton, in his Thirty Years' View, says there existed "no medium
of exchange but depreciated paper ; no change even, but little bits of foul
paper, marked as so many cents, and signed by some tradesman, barkeeper,
or innkeeper ; exchange deranged to the extent of fifty or one hundred
per cent. Distress the universal cry of the people ; relief the universal
demand thundered at the doors of all legislatures, state and federal."

The years following the retirement of Mr. Jefferson, to the time of his
death, called for retrenchment in all things. To one who had lived almost
a lifetime subject to the freehanded custom of Virginians, this was almost
an impossibility. The salary provided the President of the United States

PECUNIARY TROUBLES. 427

is not calculated to do more than support the necessary expenses of his
establishment, and few cases are on record where the chief magistrate
lias lived within his income. Mr. Jefferson was no exception to this rule.
Although provisions of all kinds were received from his estate during his
residence in Washington, the close of his term as President found him in
debt in the sum of twenty thousand dollars. He then owned more than
ten thousand acres of land, besides some city lots. He had a valuable resi
dence and an extensive library. His slaves numbered two hundred ; and
altogether he was estimated to own property to the value of not far from two
hundred thousand dollars. He was accustomed to a good style in living,
which he found impossible to change when he again became plain Mr. Jef
ferson. The expense of maintaining so large an establishment was enor
mous. Of his servants, it is safe to estimate that not more than one-fourth
produced even means for their own subsistence. There were children,
the sick, aged, and infirm to provide for, thus reducing the working force
to perhaps fifty or sixty. Kxpense was as inevitable in hard times as
in good. He had, besides this, to contend against the incubus of the
debt remaining on the estate brought him by his wife. It is no wonder,
then, he found himself crippled in his resources. He made strong and
determined efforts to overcome these adverse influences, and would un
doubtedly have succeeded had he been what he was not, a man to turn
the cold shoulder to a poor relation. A man who enjoyed the pleasures
of refined home life, he delighted in giving others less favorably situated
all such advantages as he possessed. He enjoyed the society of the
learned of all nations, and seldom a week passed that such persons were
not receiving the hospitality of his mansion. In one case a friend from
abroad, with a family of six persons, remained at Monticello ten months,
and at another time enjoyed his hospitality six months. Not always were his
visitors of a class congenial to himself or his family. People possessed of a
morbid curiosity to ga/.e upon the face of a great man, were frequent callers
at his house, and made themselves free of his grounds and garden, much
as they would with a public park or picnic ground. They ranged themselves
along both sides of the entrance hall, frequently consulting their time
pieces, anxiously awaiting the hour when he would pass through on his way
to the dining room. The}' gathered about the piazza where he was accus
tomed to sit after dinner, engaged in conversation with friends ; and it is
said one woman had the impertinence to punch her parasol through a win
dow in order to obtain a better view of him. To these things he submitted,
though they caused him great annoyance.

The mode of travel was then in carriages or on horseback. The sta
bles at Monticello would accommodate many horses, and every night in the
summer found them filled ; carriages that could not be gotten into the car
riage houses were placed under the shelter of large trees in the vicinity of

428 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

the stables. It consumed all the provender that could be raised on his
Monticello estate to provide for his own animals and those belonging to
the flood of visitors that came. The house was commodious, as many
as fifty beds being occupied at one time. In providing food for all these a
large drain was made on the Bedford estate. It is a melancholy fact that
Mr. Jefferson was made poor by entertaining his friends. He would not,
however, allow these things to trouble him, his peculiarly sunny tempera
ment causing him to look on the bright side of life.

His plantations were not very profitable. Much of the soil was of
an inferior character, and did not compare with the farms belonging to
some of his neighbors. Nor was he always careful as a manager. His
taste was discriminating, and he sacrificed much in making his surround
ings pleasant. Foreign trees and plants adorned the grounds — everything
that could lend beauty to the eye and harmonize with his conception
of the beautiful. His servants were many, and the expense connected
with keeping up a large establishment was enormous. He imported sheep,
swine, and other animals, not so much for his own profit as for the good of
Virginia, which he had always in view. His neighbors believed a flouring-
mill would be of advantage, and he at once began the construction of one
on a large scale. The mill was four stories in height, built of stone, with
four run of buhrs. A dam was built three-fourths of a mile above, and a
canal dug to convey the water to the mill. For this it was necessary to blast
the rock most of the way, which was done at an enormous outlay. Soon
after the mill was completed and in running order, came a great freshet that
washed out the dam. It was immediately rebuilt, but the mill never was
profitable. In addition to this he had a nail factory, in which ten men were
sometimes employed under an experienced overseer. Nearly everything
used on his estate was made by his servants, from a hand-rake to the fine
carriage in which he rode.

During the year 1814 the British troops captured Washington city, and
wantonly destroyed valuable papers belonging to the government, among
other things burning the extensive library of Congress, which it would
be impossible to replace. On hearing of this act of vandalism, Mr. Jeffer
son wrote, under date of September 21, 1814, to Mr. Samuel H. Smith,
offering Congress his library, the accumulation of more than fifty years, to
replace the one destroyed. This offer was made partly for the relief it
would bring him, but principally through patriotic motives. His idea was
to have the books appraised by a committee, and allow them the privilege of
purchase on their own terms. It had always been his intention to leave his
books in such condition that Congress could acquire them at a nominal sum
in the event of his death, but the urgency of the case induced him to make
an earlier offer. He desired the privilege of retaining a portion of the
books, — one set of encyclopedias and a few classical works, — during his life.

PECUNIARY TROUBLES. 429

The joint library committee of Congress was authorized to contract for
the purchase of the library. The subject was brought before the Senate in
October, and much discussion ensued, the final vote on its purchase not
being taken until January 26, 1815. Several of Mr. Jefferson's personal
friends voted against the purchase, for the reason that they deemed the sum
required beyond the means of government, the expenses caused by the war
being at the time quite large. It was, however, carried by a vote of eighty-
one to seventy-one, the price fixed being twenty-three thousand nine hun
dred and fifty dollars. The price was placed at that low figure in accord
ance with the wishes of Mr. Jefferson, although the actual cost of the
library was more than twice that sum.

As the years dragged along, the means of Mr. Jefferson became more
limited. It was not until sometime in 1825, however, that a crisis in his
worldly affairs became imminent. lie had previously endorsed a note for
an intimate friend, who was somewhat embarrassed, but who had no doubt
he should be able to meet his obligations. Mr. Jefferson shared this belief,
and allowed the use of his name, a thing entirely foreign to the habit
of a lifetime. The result was, he had to pay the sum of twenty thousand
dollars, in addition to his own debts. It produced a serious embarrass
ment, which he was fain to tide over by recourse to what in this day would
be deemed a questionable mode of procedure. He requested of the legisla
ture permission to dispose of a portion of his estate by means of a lottery,
and in a communication to that body suggested that "the end justifies the
means." Such cases were on record, there having been not less than twenty
between the years 1782 and 1820. The bill was passed by a large majority.
When it became known that Mr. Jefferson was compelled by pecuniary
distress to sell his home, public feeling was aroused throughout the Union.
The mayor of New York raised eight thousand five hundred dollars for his
relief. Other cities were not far behind. Philadelphia gave five thousand
dollars and Baltimore three thousand dollars. The lottery scheme was
abandoned. Mr. Jefferson was much gratified by this testimonial of the
affection and esteem of the people he had so long and faithfully served.
Had the matter been presented in a different light ; had the money been
procured by a tax assessed upon the people, he would never have accepted
it. Coming as it did, as a spontaneous burst of affection for him, — as a vol
untary offering, — he accepted it with thanks. The sum thus secured pro
vided for the remainder of his life peace and comfort, undisturbed by fears
of leaving his family in debt and distress at his death.

Until within three weeks of his death Mr. Jefferson followed his usual
habit of taking a short ride in pleasant weather. In the latter part of
1822 he met with an accident, caused by the breaking away of a de
cayed step, precipitating him violently to the ground. His left arm was
broken by this accident, and caused him much trouble, his right hand being

43O THOMAS JEFFERSON.

already almost useless, by reason of a dislocation of the wrist when in
France. Notwithstanding these infirmities, he would allow no one to accom
pany him on his rides. On one occasion, in crossing a small stream, his
horse became mired in descending the bank, and threw his rider over his
head. A close grasp of the bridle rein only saved him from drowning.
The horse, in its efforts to free itself from the mire, dragged him to the
land, and his life was saved. In February, 1826, he was much prostrated
by a chronic diarrhoea, but concealed his weakness from his family as far as
possible. He was conscious that his end was approaching, and while his
bodily powers were fast giving way, his mental faculties still remained, though
at times memory failed him. In March he wrote his last will, and not until
then did he let any member of his family know that he believed death was
near. The last letter he wrote was dated June 24, 1826, and was the decli
nation of a request that he be present at the anniversary of the declaration
of independence, to be celebrated in Washington, July 4th. His strength
rapidly failed from this time forward, and he expressed a hope that he might
be permitted to live until the anniversary of independence. He had never
wished the attendance of his family in his room, but during the last few
weeks of his life reconciled himself to their care and attention. His
daughter passed much of the daytime in his room, and his grandson,
Thomas Jefferson Randolph, was with him during the night, assisted by
several valued servants. Several times during the second and third days
of July he anxiously inquired if it were yet the -4th. The end came
at 12:50 meridian, of July 4, 1826, with his family surrounding his bed
side. The morning of the same day his compatriot and friend, John Adams,
lay on the bed of death many hundred miles distant. Awaiting dissolution
he said to those attending him: " Thomas Jefferson still survives/'
In a few hours he too had passed away. Jefferson had ceased to breathe
ere Mr. Adams uttered the words inscribed above. True it is, Thomas
Jefferson still survives in the life of the great republic he helped form, and
to which he gave the best years of his life.

After the death of Mr. Jefferson the incentive to pay his debts by vol
untary subscriptions ceased. The sum of money that had been received
was greatly over-estimated, and, Avhile it afforded temporary relief, was
inadequate to the payment of the liabilities against his estate and the sup
port of his family. His executor attempted to dispose of the property by
means of the lottery scheme already alluded to ; but the burden would fall
upon his friends alone, wrho could not make such subscriptions as would
insure its disposal at a fair price. He therefore took the only course, and
during the three succeeding years disposed of the entire estate, though
for less than the amount needed to pay the debts. When the truth reached
the public that the proceeds of the sale were absorbed, leaving no provision
for his family, patriotic feeling was again aroused. The legislature of

ILLNESS AND DEATH. 431

South Carolina voted the sum of ten thousand dollars, and Louisiana
devoted the same amount to this purpose. But there the feeling died out,
and no further amounts were received.

In a private drawer in Mr. Jefferson's desk were found several sou
venirs of his dead wife and children, and beside these a rough draft of a
monument for himself, accompanied by an epitaph, relating the acts of
his life in which he took the greatest satisfaction. The epitaph reads:

Here was Buried

THOMAS JEFFERSON,

author of the

DECLARATION OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE,

THE STATUTES OF VIRGINIA FOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM,

and father of

THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA.

"Jefferson was among the most fortunate of men,1' writes James
Parton, in his able summary of the character of the author of the Dec
laration of Independence. "It was Jefferson's happiness to derive from
his progenitors the maximum of help, with the minimum of hindrance.
. . . His father, too, though not a scholar, was a man of sound intel
ligence and practical ability, who honored learning by word and deed, and
marked out for his boy a liberal career. The political part of Thomas
Jefferson's career in America was the application and development of the
ancient Whig principles which his father loved and lived. . . . He
was an indomitable student always, and a man of better sustained activity
than almost any other of his time. There was not an idle bone in his
body. In his public life the same good fortune attended him. He was
usually in the thick of events when his presence was of the utmost ad
vantage to himself; but on several occasions he enjoyed those happy
absences from the scene of difficulty which have often sufficed to give a
public man ascendency over his rivals. These absences were never con
trived, and their advantage never could have been foreseen. During that
buoyant and inspiring period when all hearts were in unison, from the
Stamp act to the Declaration of Independence, circumstances and inclina
tion united to keep him in the van of affairs, and to assign him the kind
of work in doing which nature had formed him to excel. Thus, by an
exercise of his talents, which we ma}' call slight and accidental, his name
was forever associated with the act that began the National life of Amer
ica. Virginia then summoned him imperatively away to adjust her laws
and institutions to the declaration which he had penned. When at last

432 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

his good fortune seemed to forsake him and the storm of war broke over
Virginia, so long exempt, and swept away civil government and civil
governor, then the triumph of Yorktown consigned his mishaps to
prompt oblivion, and all men saw in the light of that triumph that he had
done whatever was possible by civil methods.

" After the war, " continues Mr. Parton, "during all that anxious and
dividing period when the thirteen states lacked the hoop to the barrel, he
was honorably absent in France ; and again, during the frenzied time of
American politics, from 1797 to 1800, he was safe and snug at home,
while friend and foe conspired to give prominence and fascination to his
name. In the closing years of his life, his peace was disturbed by the de
cline in the value of his estate, and by apprehension for the future of hb
descendants. But he died without knowing the worst, and the timely
generosity of two grateful states saved his daughter from painful embar
rassment. . . . Jefferson needed the happy accidents of life to atonr
for his deficiencies as a public man. He was shy; he shrank from pub
licity; he was not combative ; he was no orator ; he could not have con
trolled a public assembly, nor handled a mass meeting. Nature had nof
fitted him for an executive office; and if he had lived in peaceful time?
and been born subject to the ordinary conditions, he never would have
made his way into politics at all. Whether he would have been an artist
or a man of science would have depended upon the place and time of his
birth; but he would have pursued either of those careers with that blend
ing of passion and plod which distinguishes the man who is doing the
precise thing nature meant him to do. But having been called into pol
itics, and kept in politics by the exigencies of his country and by the
proprieties of the place he held in it, he bore himself wonderfully well.
He represented the best side of his country in a foreign land, remaining
proof against all the seductions of his place to take part with the graceful
and picturesque oppressor, instead of the homely, helpless, ill-favored
oppressed."

The distinguished author from whom the above reflections have been
culled, still finds that good fortune which he has described, pursuing
the subject of this memoir after he has passed by various gradations of
trust, to the occupancy of the highest office in the land. " A general
peace promptly followed his inauguration ; and when that peace was
broken (an event that brought woe upon the rest of Christendom), it en
abled Jiim to add to his country the most valuable acquisition which \\
was possible for it to receive. While Europe shuddered to hear the mut
tering of the coming storm, three gentlemen in Paris quietly arranged the
terms on which the United States were to possess the mouth of the Mis
sissippi and an empire which the Mississippi drained. But I venture
again to affirm that, much as he was favored by fortune, his merit was

LIFE AND CHARACTER. 433

equal to his fortune. He rose to every opportunity, and improved to the
very uttermost all his chances. Since civil government was founded,
never was a government administered with such strict, single-hearted,
such noble-minded, such wise fidelity." Touching upon another point
over which controversy has been at times suggested rather than held, the
same writer has said: " I cannot agree with those who think he ought,
being an abolitionist, to have emancipated his slaves. There are virtuous
and heroic acts, which, when they are done, are passionately admired,
but which, at the same time, we have no right to demand or expect.
Few persons acquainted with the history and character of John Brown
could avoid having some sense of the real sublimity of his conduct ; but
who pretend that human affairs admit of being generally conducted on
the John Brown principle? If Jefferson, on coming to a clear sense of
the iniquity of slavery and the impossibility of inducing Virginia to
abolish it, had set his slaves free and led them forth . . . and con
ducted them to a free territory, and established them as freemen and free
holders, standing by them until they were able to take care of them
selves, he would have done one of those high, heroic deeds which con
temporaries call Quixotic and posterity sublime. And if, while the young
patriarch was on the march, a mob of white trash had set upon him and
killed him, contemporaries might have said it served him right, and cen
turies hence his name might serve as the pretext for a rie\v religion, and
nations contend for the possession of his tomb. But no one has a right
to censure him for not having done this, except a person who has
given proof that, in similar circumstances, he would have done it. Such
individuals — and there are a few such in each generation — seldom censure
anyone."

The estimates of others as to Jefferson's life and character take a wide?
and higher range than that so carefully enunciated in the above. In dis*
cussing it, during the new relation of things evolved from the recent civil
war, one eminent writer has said : " Jefferson's public life is divided into
three distinct periods — that preceding and during the early stages oJ
the Revolution, his residence abroad, and that after his return. The
approaching separation from Great Britain was heralded in the Old
Dominion by perhaps the most remarkable change, its manner and
rapidity considered, that ever took place in a political body — that from
an aristocratic to a democratic form of government. Jefferson's entrance
into political life was identified with this powerful revolution ; his subse
quent course was deeply affected by it. So far as the work of organiza
tion went, he had a greater right than any other to look upon the regen
erated commonwealth as the work of his hands, and in return he was evef
the darling of her heart. Apart from other considerations, such a rela
tionship could not fail to produce on him the most favorable impressions

434 THOMAS JEFFERSON.

regarding the state governments in general. In addition to this, in trying
the first experiment of Union, the Confederate congress was hardly
more than a committee to give expression to public sentiment, and still it
had borne with success the highest strain to which any government can
be subjected — that of carrying on war.

" With these things in mind, Jefferson assumed the embassy to France.
. . . Coming with a great reputation from a country which was the
fashion at the moment, the doors of society were thrown open and he was
received into intimate association with the first minds of the French capi
tal at one of the most exhilarating periods in the history of the world. . . .
But the deepest impression on his mind was not the result of association
with learned or courtly circles. The cottages and workshops and the
daily life of the peasants and people were the chosen field of his studies ;
and in several extended journeys he acquired a knowledge of the condi
tion of European society and of the actual working of the different
governments equaled by few travelers. By this examination all his
original ideas in favor of popular institutions were not only confirmed and
expanded, but his mind was filled with a mingled feeling of indignation
and horror at the misery he everywhere encountered. The institution of
monarchy, the governing classes and the whole machinery of oppression
became the objects of the intensest detestation. No words but his own
can convey a notion of this feeling. He speaks habitually of the conti
nental nations as composed of ' sheep and wolves,' and deliberately
declares 'that it would be better that the race of man should be reduced
to a single pair, like Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, than to go on
suffering what they endure from their governments.' His sympathies
were, of course, warmly enlisted on the popular side in the opening scenes
which he witnessed of the French Revolution, while his tastes and affec
tions, touched and won as they might be still by the amenity and prac
ticed kindness of the French, ever afterward pleaded strongly in theif
favor."

JAMES MADISON

CHAPTER I.

BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE.

PROMINENT among the names in the annals of Virginia, is that of
Madison; foremost in councils of state, in the church, and in the
army. Diligent research made some years since by Conway Robinson,
Esq., a member of the Historical society of Virginia, led to the finding in
the state paper office in London, of a list of the Virginia colonists of 1623,
in which occurs the name of Captain Isaac Madison. In the first accurate
history of the colony of Virginia, written by its heroic defender, Captain
John Smith, due praise is awarded Captain Madison for his brilliant achieve
ments against the "salvages" in 1622. It is evident from the accounts
given in early works, that the family were among the daring few who braved
the terrors of a tedious voyage across an almost unknown sea, to meet the
not less menacing dangers of the inhospitable coast. With what contending
emotions must they have first set foot on land at Jamestown — joy, that they
were delivered from the terrors of the deep ; fear, that the}' might have
escaped past dangers to meet those yet more terrible from the unseen
inhabitants of the forests that reached almost to the water's edge. That
these fears were not without foundation is proven in the pages of history,
in the wars and bloodshed that ensued ere a permanent foothold \vas
obtained. The colonists had been educated in a stern and unyielding school.
They brought with them hearts of oak and constitutions of iron, and both
were required before their work was done.

435

436 JAMES MADISON.

As early as 1635, a large tract of land lying between the North and
York rivers, and contiguous to the Chesapeake bay, was acquired by patent,
by John Madison, the progenitor of the branch of the family to which
belonged James Madison, the fourth President of the United States. John
Madison was the father of John, and he the father of Ambrose, the paternal
grandfather of James Madison, Jr. During the four generations preceding
the birth of the future President, the possessions of the family largely
increased, and in 1651 the landed estate of James Madison, Sr. , embraced
several plantations in Orange, and in the counties adjoining. In the care
and cultivation of these, as was the custom of the day, he employed many
slaves, his property by the law of the land. His position as a landed pro
prietor gave him a prestige in the county of Orange, where was his manor-
house, and, though he is not known to have taken any active part in political
matters, during the revolutionary war he was a county lieutenant, the duties
of which office he performed with diligence and zeal. He lived, with his
family, at Montpelier, which had also been the home of his father, Ambrose
Madison, and which descended in direct line to James Madison, Jr.

James Madison was born March 16, 1751, at the residence of his
maternal grandmother, Mrs. Conway, on the northern bank of the Rappa-
hannock river, in King George county, Virginia, where his mother was
visiting when that interesting event occurred. Montpelier, the estate on
which his parents resided, was situated some sixty miles distant. His birth
took place in the near vicinity of the homes of several men who became
illustrious. Of Eleanor Conway, the mother of James Madison, little is
known. She was the mother of a large family of children, seven of whom
— four sons and three daughters — arrived at years of maturity. The cares
of maternity, together with the duty of overseeing a large establish
ment, early undermined her constitution ; her eldest son, when absent from
home in early life, pursuing a course of study planned by his father and in
accordance with his own desires, in his frequent letters expressed the solici
tude he felt regarding her health. And during the years of his public
career, he never lacked in devotion to the one who bore him, caring for hef
until she peacefully passed into rest, not many years before his own death.
No less wras his father the object of his care and attention until his death,
in 1801.

Appreciating his own disadvantages, the elder James Madison deter
mined that his children should have the privileges which his position and the
means at his command could furnish. While yet very young, the boy was
placed in a school conducted by a learned Scotchman, Donald Robertson,
who, besides teaching some branches of an elementary education, gave him
instruction in the Greek, Latin, French, and Spanish languages. He had
received some earlier instruction in the vicinity of his home, but at the school
of Mr. Robertson was laid the foundation of an education that in after

BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE.

437

}*ars dcveloqed those qualities of understanding that so well fitted him
for political leadership. For some time after leaving- this school he re
mained at home, under the tuition of Rev. Thomas Martin, the rector of
the parish, who, at that time, lived in the Madison family at Montpelier.
Mr. Martin was a man of learning and piety, and to this instruction, added
to that of liis mother, is due the strong religious principles that through
out his life permeated the mind of Mr. Madison. These principles founu
frequent expression in letters written during early life, to his college inti
mates, and remain ex! no less strong when in mature years he was surrounded
by the cares of state.

At the age of seventeen lie was prepared to enter college. Brought up
in the communion of the Kpiscopal church, it might be expected he won! 1
attend the college of William and Mary, at Williamsburg, which was under
the control of that denomination. At that time, however, the board of
visitors and the faculty were not working in harmony in the management
of the in 'liuition ; beside, the president, Rev. Mr. Horrocks, was unpopular
in his position, circumstances which had the effect of sending Madison to the
popular and growing college of Princeton. This institution had one year
before acquired a valuable aid in the person of Dr. Witherspoon, a gentle
man then aged forty-six years, a profound student and deep thinker, who
was the contemporary of such master minds as Smith, Ihime, Reid, Knmes,
Robertson, and Blair, from whose companionship he had imbibed deeply of
philosophical ideas; in contests with the church he had acquired prin
ciples of free thought and a liberty of opinion, that led him early to espouse
the cause of liberty as manifested in the resistance of the colonies to the
oppressions of the mother country. He stopped with no half-way measures,
but took an important part in the discussions that preceded the adoption of
the declaration of independence, and hesitated not a moment in signing
that document. Later he was prominent in forming the confederation of
states, and in the Congress, from the beginning to the close of the war, took
an active part.

Fortunate, indeed, were the youth of that day who were brought into
intimate companionship with one of the superior mental endowments of
Dr. Witherspoon. Mr. Madison remained under his instruction three years
is an undergraduate, finally completing the prescribed course in 177 1, receiv
ing the decree of bachelor of arts. During the three years passed at Prince-

o o *"

ton, the curriculum of the college had been enlarged to correspond with the
learning of its {resident, and embraced as additions a more comprehensive
course in mathematics, physical science, moral philosophy, public law and
politics, history, the art of literary composition, and criticism. To the
course thus arranged the student brought habits of thought and research,
rare in so young a man. That he assimilated the good found in such a sys
tem of study, is apparent in the results attested by the able and compre-

438 JAMES MADISON.

hensive state papers that were the labor of his mature life, and are yet
regarded as models of their kind.

The grade of scholarship in Princeton was high, and to take no inferior
position was the aim of the student. That close application was required
is evident when it is known that such men as Mr. Henry, of Maryland,
Brockholst Livingston, of New York, William Bradford, and Hugh H.
Brackenridge, of Pennsylvania, Aaron Burr, Morgan Lewis, Aaron Ogden,
and. Henry Lee, — all of whom at some period in life occupied high places
in state and nation, — were fellow-students of Madison in Princeton.

One result of the spirit of liberty infused into the young men of that
day, was the formation of a society, — the American Whig society, — which
survives to this time. Mr. Madison is reputed one of its founders. The
close of his college course found Madison a devoted student. He deter
mined on yet another year of study at his ahna mater, under the private
instruction of Dr. Witherspoon, for whom he had formed a strong friend
ship.

In 1772 Mr. Madison returned to Montpelier, where he proposed to
devote himself still further to study. He was now twenty-one years of age,
somewhat feeble in health, by reason of too close confinement and excessive
study. Habit could not easily be broken, and he employed his time in an
extensive course of reading for his own improvement, besides superintend
ing the instruction of his younger brothers and sisters, and maintaining cor
respondence with young men of kindred tastes who had been his classmates
and friends in college. His most intimate friend and associate had been
William Bradford, of Pennsylvania, who became an officer in the revolution
ary army, afterward judge of the supreme court of Pennsylvania, and attorney-
general of the United States under President Washington. In their corres
pondence these young men discussed the leading political questions of the
day. Their estimate of the course pursued by Great Britain in the impend
ing conflict coincided. The attempt of the mother country to force the
colonies to purchase tea shipped to America, aroused in them a spirit of
indignation, and the action of Philadelphia, Boston, and other ports in
refusing to receive it, met their unqualified approval.

Although nurtured in the bosom of the established church, Mr. Madi
son was strongly opposed to the course taken by the ecclesiastical authori
ties in the persecution of dissenters. Early in 1774 he wrote his friend
Bradford in regard to the growing feeling against English oppression, in the
following language: "I verily believe the frequent assaults that have been
made on America (Boston especially,) will in the end prove of real advan
tage. If the church of England had been the established religion in all the
northern colonies, as it has been among us here, and uninterrupted harmony
had prevailed throughout the continent, it is clear to me that slavery and
subjection might and would have been gradually insinuated among us.

BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE. 439

Union in religious sentiment begets a surprising confidence, and ecclesias
tical establishments tend to great ignorance and corruption, all of which
facilitate the execution of mischievous projects." No form of tyranny is so
revolting to human nature as that exercised over the mind; and no tyranny
exercised over the mind of man is so abominable as that which seeks to
enslave the conscience in matters of religion. That the persecution of
other sects by the established church, under the sanction of law, roused the
clear religious convictions of Mr. Madison, was in great part due to the
principles he had developed in his college life — principles that stopped at
nothing less than absolute freedom of mind, body, and estate.

When the legislature of Virginia met in May, 1774, and received news
of the closing of the port of Boston and the removal of the custom house
to Salem, in unison with the spirit pervading the entire country at the time,
that body strongly condemned the retaliatory measures of the mother coun
try, and passed resolutions setting apart the 1st of June as a day of fast
ing, humiliation, and prayer. As soon as these facts came to the ear of
the royal governor, Lord Dunmore, he dissolved the house of burgesses.
This act did not have the effect to intimidate the members, who soon reas
sembled in the "Apollo," the long private room of the Raleigh tavern, and
there formed themselves into a voluntary association to "deliberate on
those general measures which the united interests of America may, from
time to time require." At a subsequent meeting a resolution was passed
inviting the other colonies to a congress to be hoklen for consideration of
the grave subjects then at issue. At the same time a convention was called,
to meet at \Yilliumsburg on the 1st of August following, to appoint dele
gates to the general congress. On the 5th of September the congress met
at Philadelphia, and took steps that eventually led to the declaration of
independence.

While the congress was yet in session the troops of Virginia, by a
hard-fought battle at Point Pleasant, conquered the Indians who had for
years been committing devastation on her borders. The campaign which
had been so decisive in disposing of the lurking foe in the west, was con
cluded none too soon. The events that had already taken place had aroused
in the people a demand for war, and the work of embodying and drilling
additional troops was at once begun. In each count}- was raised one inde
pendent company of one hundred men, making the Virginia contingent to
consist of six thousand troops, armed and equipped at their own expense.
The burden of raising a company in the count}' of Orange fell on the elder
Madison, as count}' lieutenant. There was no lack of enthusiasm, and
difficulty was experienced in limiting the company to the prescribed num
ber, men who had served as officers in previous Indian wars being eager
to take place in the ranks. The committee of public safety in Orange was
composed of such men as Madison, Taylor, Barbour Taliafero. James

44O J A M KS M A D I SON .

Madison, Jr., was associated with these older members, in the consideration
of measures for defense.

The i Qth of April, 1/75, will be ever memorable in the history of the
country, in that on that day occurred at Lexington and Concord, the first
conflict between the colonists and the soldiers of the king. This was the
first overt act of hostility in a war that lasted nearly eight years, and assured
the independence of the colonies. The day following the engagement at
Concord and Lexington, April 2Oth, Lord Dunmore dispatched a small body
of marines from the sloop-of war Magdalen, lying in the James river, to
remove the powder from the store-house at Williamsburg. Under cover of
night the object was accomplished without loss, and some fifteen or twenty
barrels of powder were removed. This action of the royal governor roused
the people, and kindled a flame of indignation that spread throughout the
province. So soon as the news of this exploit was received at Fredericks-
burg, a meeting of the independent company was called, at which it was
resolved that they hold themselves in readiness to march, as light-horse, to
Williamsburg on the following Saturday, the 29th of April. At the same
time the officers of the company drew up a letter addressed to independent
companies in the neighborhood, and inviting their co-operation in the
projected enterprise. Before the appointed day, fourteen companies,
comprising upward of six hundred men, well mounted and equipped,
assembled in Fredericksburg. As they were about to start on the expedi
tion, a letter was received from the Hon. Peyton Randolph, late speaker of
the house of burgesses, advising them to moderation, stating that the
governor had given full assurance of satisfaction regarding the gunpowder.
In deference to his wishes the expedition was temporarily abandoned; at the
same time the assembled patriots were bold in the expression of their
opinions as to the course to be pursued in the future; as they said: "Con
sidering the just rights and liberty of America to be greatly endangered by
the violent and hostile proceedings of an arbitrary ministry, and being
firmly resolved to resist such attempts at the hazard of our lives and for
tunes, we do no\v pledge ourselves to each other to be in readiness, at a
moment's warning, to re-assemble, and by force of arms to defend the law,
1 he liberty, and rights of this or any sister colony, from unjust and wicked
invasion." Instead of the traditional formula used by the royal governor
in concluding his proclamations — "God save the king" — they closed with
the sounding words, "God save the liberties of America."

A few days later, Patrick Henry, captain of the Hanover independent
company, becoming satisfied Lord Dunmore had no intention of making
restitution of the powder, assembled his men with the purpose of "making
reprisals upon the king's property sufficient to replace the gunpowder taken
out of the magazine." A detachment was sent to the residence of the
receiver-general, in King William county, he having control of the fiscal

BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE. yj.jl

affairs of the province, but not finding him at home it rejoined the com
pany at Doncastle's ordinary, sixteen miles from \Yilliamsburg. Here the
party remained until the following morning, when the receiver-general sent
Mr. Henry his bill of exchange for three hundred and thirty pounds sterling,
the estimated value of the munitions removed from the magazine, for which
the latter gave his receipt, and withdrew, with his command, to their
homes.

The bold achievement of Patrick Henry and his company, received
the cordial approval of patriots everywhere, and in no county were the
manifestations of delight more enthusiastic than in Orange. The committee
of that county, in the handwriting of James Madison, expressed its
approbation of the course pursued by the Hanover militia, and formulated
an address to " Captain Patrick Henry and the gentlemen independents of
Hanover." The address was signed by James Madison, chairman; James
Madison, Jr., James Taylor, Thomas Harbour, Laurence Taliaferro, and
sixty others. Not long after, the case of Rev. Mr. \Yingate, charged with
having in his possession various pamphlets calling in question the acts of
Congress, which he refused to give to the committee upon their application,
called for decided action. The papers were at length peremptorily
demanded, and given up under protest. .After examination they were
found to be so inimical to the cause of the colonies that they were ordered
burnt, which order was carried out in presence of the militia and a large
concourse of people. The resolution condemning them was prepared and
ivritten by the younger Madison.

From the dissolution of the house of burgesses in May, 17/4, the
?ause of the king had steadily declined in strength. The course pursued by
"he militia in regard to the seizure of the gunpowder, and other actions of
.he people condemnatory of his policy as governor, convinced Lord Dun-
more that he was losing all hold in the colony. He thereupon issued a
proclamation denouncing the rebellious practices of the king's subjects, and
threatened them with the vengeance of offended majesty should they not
immediately return to their former allegiance. On the occasion of some
commotion in \Yilliamsburg he proposed burning the town, and arming the
slaves against their masters, should his will not be obeyed. The last session
of the royal legislature was called to meet at Williamsburg, June I, 1/75,
to consider the "conciliator}' propositions" of Lord North. Soon after it
convened the governor took refuge on the ship of war Foii'cy, then riding at
anchor in the York river, being fearful the people might cause injury to
himself or family. The legislature remained in session until the 24th of
June, when it adjourned, to meet again the I2tli day of October. Before
that day arrived, the war of the revolution had broken all ties between king
and people.

A convention of delegates, chosen by the people, assembled in Rich'

442 JAMES MADISON.

mond, on Juiy 17, 1775, and among other things passed resolutions for the
enlistment and arming of two regiments of regular soldiers, and sixteen
battalions of militia, besides six companies of independent militia for service
on the border. Patrick Henry was appointed colonel of the first regiment,
and commander in chief of the forces in Virginia. A committee of safety
was appointed, to which, owing to the hostile attitude of the royal gov
ernor, was confided, for the time being, the government of the province. At
the same time they declared their allegiance to King George the Third, as
their lawful sovereign. Even at this late date there were not wanting those
who believed the king would himself take steps to counteract the oppressive
measures instituted by his advisers, and that peace would again be assured
under the powerful protection of the government themselves and their fathers
had served for so many generations.

The second continental Congress had assembled at Philadelphia some
months previous to this, and May 29, 1775, it passed resolutions for secur
ing some effective mode of defense in the colonies ; and at the same time,
in obedience to the wishes of certain members, drew up a second petition
to the king, \vhich was presented to parliament, and by it denounced as a
scheme to quiet the government until the provinces were fully prepared for
the establishment of an independent empire in the west. On the I5th of
June, Congress provided for the direction of the army by appointing George
Washington commander in chief, with four major-generals, eight brigadiers,
and an adjutant-general, as his subordinates; it also voted three millions of
dollars for the arming and subsistence of the military forces of the col
onies. Other action was taken, among the most important being a declara
tion setting forth the causes that led 'to the taking up of arms; that this
had not been done with the design of separating from Great Britain and
establishing independent states. This document was the joint production
of Mr. Dickinson and Mr. Jefferson, and was read section by section a-«<i
discussed by the full house previous to its adoption.

CHOSEN DELEGATE IN VIRGINIA CONVENTION.

CHAPTER II.

CHOSEN DELEGATE IN VIRGINIA CONVENTION-ELECTED TO CONGRESS.

THE condition of his health had prevented Mr. Madison entering the
army, much as lie desired so to do on the breaking out of hostilities.
Many of his college associates had obtained commissions in the service, as
had his younger brother, Ambrose. Broken down and debilitated by exces
sive study, lie was unable to endure the hardships and privations of the
camp and field, and perforce denied himself the service which he would
have esteemed a privilege. Connected, as he was, with the committee of
his county, he manifested zeal and energy in the prosecution of the duties
that la}' near him, and the exercise required in the performance of these
duties was of benefit to his health. His association with the people of the
county had shown them the material of which he was made, and with united
voice he was called to. represent them as a delegate in the convention, called
to meet at \Yilliamsburg the 6th of May, 1/76. Me was then twenty-five
years of age, and with perhaps one or two exceptions, the youngest dele
gate in the- convention. His associates were the most prominent persons in
the pnrvince — such men as Richard Bland, the Lees, Patrick Henry, George
Mason, Pendleton, Nicholas, Wythe, and Gary. Edmund Pendleton was
chosen presiding officer. Business was expedited during the first few days
of the session, and on the i^th the convention resolved itself into com
mittee of the whole on the state of the country. Mr. Gary, chairman of the
committee of the whole, presented resolutions that are historical, in that by
them Virginia took the initiative in declaring for independence from Great
Britain. The concluding paragraph of the resolutions instructed the dele
gates in Congress "to propose to that body to declare the united colonies
free and independent states, absolved from all allegiance to or dependence
on the crown or pailirmcnt of Great Britain, and that they give the assent
of this colony to such declaration, and to whatever measures maybe thought
proper and necessary by the congress for forming foreign alliances, and a

444 JAMES MADISON.

confederation of the colonies. " In the absence of any proof to the contrary,
it is believed the authorship of these resolutions rests with Edmund Pen-
dleton, the chairman of the convention. The Virginia delegates in Congress
presented these resolutions to that body the 7th of June; on the 8th and
loth they were discussed, and on the last named day a committee was
appointed to prepare a declaration in accordance with the resolutions. This
was subscribed by the members of Congress on the 4th of July, 1776.

Not less important and far reaching in its results was the subsequent
work of the convention. On the day which witnessed the instruction to
the delegates in Congress, was taken the first step in the formation of anew
state government. A committee, consisting of tAventy-eight members, was
appointed to frame a " declaration of rights and such plan of government
as will be most likely to maintain peace and order in this colony, and secure
substantial and equal liberty to the people.'' This committee wras com
posed of the ablest men of an exceptionally able convention, Gary, Nicho
las, Henry, Bland, Lee, Blair, and others being among the more prominent.
The clay following its appointment, James Madison, who had come out from
behind his veil of modesty, and been recognized by the convention as
among the ablest of the younger members, was added to the committee;
and the day after, George Mason, \vho was to become the great leader of
the committee in its labors, was appointed and took his seat. On the 27th
of May the select committee reported the declaration of rights to the con-
venion, which, on the loth of June, resolved itself into committee of the
whole, for discussion. Twro days later it was adopted by the convention,
after some slight verbal alterations, and has stood the test of time, not a
word or letter having been altered, although since that time the state of Vir
ginia has had three constitutions. Some of its leading features have been
incorporated into the constitution of other states, and into amendments to
the constitution of the United States. The name of George Mason deserves
equal fame with that of Thomas Jefferson, as the author of one of the most
important state papers of this continent. Among the verbal changes sug
gested was that relating to freedom of religious opinions. Mr. Madison
objected to the use of the word "toleration" in the declaration: "All men
should, therefore, enjoy the fullest toleration in the exercise of religion,
according to the dictates of conscience, unpunished and unrestrained by the
magistrate, unless, under color of religion any man disturb the peace, the
happiness, or the safety of society." He had seen much of the intolerance
of toleration, and had vowed within himself to do what lay in his power for
the relief of the oppressed sectaries. Freedom he held, should imply liberty
of conscience as well as liberty of action. Feeling, as he did, his presump
tion in differing from men so much older, and perhaps wiser than himself,
the justice of his cause alone sustained him in presenting it to the con
vention. His amendment was, in substance, accepted by the convention,

CHOSEN DELEGATE IN VIRGINIA CONVENTION. 445

and adopted in this form: "That religion, or the duty we owe to the
Creator, and the manner of discharging it, can be directed only by reason
and conviction, not by force or violence, and, therefore, all men are equally
entitled to the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of con
science. "

Discussion of the constitution and plan of government was continued
until the 27th of June, when it was adopted in full convention. In its con-
M ruction it was by no means perfect, but as a constitution on which to rear
the structure of a state, it answered the purpose for the time being. The
constitution had but just been adopted, when was presented to the conven
tion a plan prepared by Thomas Jefferson, and forwarded by special mes
senger, in the expectation that it would be received before definite action
should be taken. Its late arrival prevented its consideration, but the pre
amble prepared by Mr. Jefferson was adopted.

Immediately after the adoption of the constitution, the convention pro
ceeded to the election of a governor and council, upon whom should devolve
administration of the affairs of the new state. Patrick Henry was chosen
governor. Provision was then made for military defense, for the election of
senators, and for the assembling of the legislative branch of government.
The convention adjourned the 5th of July, to meet at \\~illiamsburg in the
following October, as a house of delegates, to serve with the senate as the
general assembly of the commonwealth of Virginia.

On the 7th of October, 177^, convened the first general assembly of
the state of Virginia. As a member of the convention which framed the
constitution and put in motion the wheels of the new government, Mr.
Madison took hi* seat in that body. Here he first met Thomas Jefferson,
and formed that intimate acquaintance which continued without a break
during the lives of both. Possessed of much the same views on the leading
subjects before the assembly, and before the Congress of the colonies, the}*
were not long strangers. In his autobiography Mr. Jefferson speaks of the
young legislator in the following terms: " Mr. Madison came into the house
in 1776, a new member and young; which circumstances, concurring with
his extreme modest}', prevented his venturing himself in debate before his
removal to the council of state in November, 1777. From thence he went
to Congress, then consisting of few members. Trained in these successive
schools, he acquired a habit of self-possession, which placed at read}' com
mand the rich resources of his luminous and discriminating mind, and of his
extensive information, and rendered him the first of every assembly after
wards of which he became a member. Never wandering from his subject
into vain declamation, but pursuing it closely in language pure, classical, and
copious, soothing always the feelings of his adversaries by civilities and
softness of expression, he rose to the eminent station which he held in the
great national convention of 1787 ; and in that of Virginia, which followed,

446 JAMES MADISON.

he sustained the new constitution in all its parts, bearing off the palm
against the logic of George Mason and the fervid declamation of Mr. Henry.
With these consummate powers was united a pure and spotless virtue, which
no calumny has ever attempted to sully."

The legislature remained in session three months, and adjourned Decem
ber. 21 st. At that time its meetings were semi-annual — in May and Octo
ber. A new election of delegates took place in April, 1*777. For years it
had been the custom of candidates for office to mingle with the people and
spend money freely in " treats." A candidate who refused to follow this
custom was usually defeated. Mr. Madison was by nature diffident; beside,
he was opposed to the perpetuation of such a system, and did not
take the course calculated to continuance in office. As a consequence,
he saw two men, of inferior abilities, elected to seats in the legislature,
while he was left in private life. On the I3th of November the two houses
elected him member of the council of state, in which office he was inti
mately associated with the governor and a number of the most influential
men of the state. Here his duties were such that he was forced into over
coming his habitual diffidence, and was thus fitted for the more responsible
stations that awaited him in the future. He acquired a habit of self-posses
sion and ease in the presentation of his views, that was of great value to
him in debate, and rendered him one of the most powerful of the able men
then in the halls of legislation, both state and national. At that time the
only one among the executive council familiar with foreign languages, he
was an invaluable aid to Mr. Henry in meeting the many foreign officers
then in the service of the country.

In the summer of 1779 was terminated the service of Mr. Henry as
governor, he having occupied the chair of executive during the three years
limited by the constitution. He was succeeded by Thomas Jefferson; Mr.
Madison remained a member of the executive council a few months under
his administration, when he was elected to a scat in Congress.

On the I4th of December, 1779, the general assembly of Virginia
elected four delegates to the continental Congress. She had limited the
number to five, and the term of service to three years. One member, Mr.
Cyrus Griffin, retained his seat to fill an unexpired term. The persons
elected in place of the retiring delegates were Joseph Jones, James Henry,
John Walker, and James Madison. The time was one of discouragement
for the American cause ; the finances of the country were at a low ebb ; it
required forty dollars in the depreciated paper currency of the confederation
to equal in value one dollar in silver ; the time of service of many of the
troops was about expiring, or had already expired, and no effective force
could be brought forward to successfully cope with the lately victorious
enemy. It was a perplexing question where to turn for ways and means of
defense and offense, but the question must be met. To the subjet of finance

ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 447

Mr. Madison devoted much study, endeavoring to avoid the extremes which
had wrecked other governments. His aim was to establish a govern
mental credit founded on the basis of moral and legal order, justice, and
public faith. Congress awoke to the importance of renewed action, and
measures were taken to increase the army to thirty-five thousand men ; the
states were called upon to raise by taxes the sum of six millions of dollars
in silver or bills redeemable in specie. At the same time a letter was dis
patched to the king of France soliciting a loan, and pledging the faith of
the United States for its payment.

It was deemed important at this time to secure the active co-operation
of Spain in an effort to drive British men-of-war from the coast, thereby
greatly reducing the efficiency of their land forces. In the negotiations pend
ing with Spain, the subject of the right of the United States to the unob
structed navigation of the Mississippi river became a subject -of contention.
Spain denied the right claimed by the United States, and a long corres
pondence followed. Congress passed resolutions instructing the commis
sioners who were conducting the negotiations to abate nothing of their
claims, and at the same time appointed a committee consisting of Mr
Madison, Mr. Sullivan, of New Hampshire, and Mr. Dunne, of New York,
to indite a letter to the ministers, embodying the spirit of the resolutions.
On Mr. Madison fell the duty of preparing this letter, which has ever been
considered among the ablest documents of its kind. In it he exhaustively
considers the subject in all its bearings, and conclusively shows wherein it
would be as impolitic as it is impossible that the United States should give
up all right to this great artery for the transportation of her western produce
to the sea, and thence to foreign markets.

The position assumed by the United States on this question was
eventually modified, and left for future settlement. Not until near the
close of the war \va.« Spain induced to become a part}" to the conflict, and
then her part was principally that of self-aggrandizement. Instead of
direct!}' aiding the United States, she was the means of diverting certain
troops and munitions of war from America, by engaging with France in an
attempt to conquer some portion of England's possessions in the Mediter
ranean. Spain having espoused the cause of France and the colonies as
against Great Britain, Russia and .Austria became fearful of a general
European war, and proffered their services as mediators. Owing, however,
to the non-concilatory policy of England, no progress was made in
these efforts. During the earl}- winter of 1782, appeared a change in the
tone of the British ministry, and a resolution "against the further prose
cution of offensive war on the continent of North America, " was carried
in the house of commons, February 2~th. Soon thereafter a bill was intro
duced "to enable his majesty to conclude a truce or peace with the revolted
colonies of America." One of the most important provisions in the pre-

44*' JAMES MADISON.

liminary articles was that relating to the fisheries, and to this subject Mr.
Madison devoted much care and labor ; to him in no small degree belongs
credit for placing our fisheries on a par with those of the North American
provinces of Great Britain. He was an active member of every committee
appointed to report at various stages of the subject, and many, if not all the
reports, emanated from his pen. The preliminaries for a general peace were
signed at Paris, January 2Oth, 1783, but the news did not reach Congress
until March 23d, and it was not until some time later that the treaty was
ratified. In the many great public measures that were brought forward dur
ing the consideration of terms of peace, until the spring of 1783, Mr. Madi
son took an active part In the formation of an efficient system of revenue
and finance he was prominently engaged; in the settlement of terms by
which Virginia ceded .to the government the territory west, of the Allegha-
nies and north of the Ohio, now forming five states, he was an active partici
pant ; in all matters of public weal he was among the foremost.

The laws of Virginia provided that a delegate should not serve in Con
gress more than three consecutive years, and should then be disqualified
from holding the same office during a further period of three years. The
original term for which Mr. Madison was elected expired in the autumn of
1782. In May of that year the legislature repealed the law in order that
his invaluable services might be longer retained, and he was elected to serve
one year more. In the fall of 1783 he necessarily retired, having, during
his entire service of four years, rarely been absent from his post, and when
such absence was necessary, for as short a time as possible. During the
later years of the war, very many members of the Congress were much of
the time absent from their duties, and there was the more need that he
should remain at his post.

SECOND TERM IN THE LEGISLATURE. 449

CHAPTER III.

A SECOND TERM OF SERVICE IN THE LEGISLATURE.

AFTKR spending some weeks in Philadelphia, Mr. Madison returned to
Montpclicr. lie had come to feel the need of an understanding of
the law, and after renewing acquaintance with his neighbors, began reading
legal works. This study he continued, with some interruptions, for several
years. He was then thirty-two years of age, with settled habits, and a good
degree of health. In intervals of his studies, which were pursued without a
master, he carried on a friendly correspondence with the Marquis de
Lafayette, and with Thomas Jefferson, who was his' successor, as he had
been his predecessor in Congress. His home in the county oi Orange was
but thirty miles distant from Monticcllo, near which place was also the resi
dence of James Monroe, then a rising young man, a student at law with
Mr. Jefferson. Never did Mr. Madison make professional use of his
knowledge of law, but in the discussion of state and international questions
in after life it proved invaluable.

In April, 17^4, eight years after his first service in the legislature of his
native state, he was again elected by his county, to a scat in the general
assembly. Among his associates were Patrick Henry, the late governor of
the state; Richard Henry Lee, who had retired from Congress in 1/79;
John Marshall, afterward chief justice of the United States; Spencer Roane,
afterward president of the Virginia court of appeals ; Henry Tazewell,
William Grayson, John Taylor, and William Care}' Nicholas, future scna-
ators of the United States; John Breckenridge, future attorney-general of
the United States ; Joseph Jones, late of the Congress; and Hraxton, Tyler,
Stuart, Ronald, Thruston, Corbin, and Page, mostly young men of unques
tioned ability. Mr. Henry and Mr. Lee were the acknowledged leaders in
the house, as they were the seniors of their fellow-members.

At the organization of the house he was placed on several important
committees, being assigned the chairmanship of the committee of com-

450 JAMES MADISON.

mercc in which he was instrumental in the passage of measures for the
protection of the interests of the planters of Virginia. He favored the
concentration of the export and import trade at one or two ports. The
agents of British merchants had been accustomed to trade directly with pro
ducers along the rivers, purchasing products at a low price and charging
exorbitant rates for all goods they sold. As England would not allow of
free trade with her West India possessions it was considered desirable that
her trade with the states be curtailed. With this end in view an act was
finally passed restraining all foreign vessels from indiscriminate trading, and
limiting them to certain ports. Strong efforts were made to concentrate all
foreign trade at two ports, but in order to the passage of the act concession
was made, allowing of five ports of entry — Norfolk, Alexandria, York,
Tappahannock, and Bermuda Hundred. At subsequent sessions of the
legislature efforts were made to repeal the act, which, though not successful,
caused the addition of other ports of entry, thus dividing the trade of the
country, and tending to reduce the value of its products. At this time, few
vessels other than those sailing under the British flag, touched at Virginia
ports, while in the leading ports of the country — Boston, New York, Phila
delphia, and Baltimore — vessels of all nations wrere constant traders. In the
Philadelphia market, tobacco, the staple product of Virginia, commanded
twenty cents more than at ports in the state wherein it was raised. The
far-seeing Madison wras strongly opposed by local considerations, and it was
only by sustained effort that the measure remained on the statute book.

In connection with port regulation, came up the subject of the bound
ary between Virginia and Maryland. The charter to Lord Baltimore defined
the boundary of his land as the southern shore of the Potomac river, and
in the constitution of 1776, Virginia had released to Maryland all land com
prised in her charter. This might lead to a conflict of interests in the
enforcement of commercial restrictions. Mr.. Madison early saw the result
to be apprehended, and wrote Mr. Jefferson, then a delegate in Congress, to
obtain an expression of the opinion of the Maryland delegates in reference
to the subject. He claimed Virginia had not given exclusive control of the
river to Maryland, but demanded the right of legislation over and occupancy
of that half bordering her shore. By priority of title, under the original patent
Virginia was entitled to control the entire river adjoining the northern neck.
In order to definite action he introduced a resolution, on the 28th of June,
providing for the appointment of four commissioners, to meet an equal
number of commissioners to be appointed by the state ©f Maryland, and
take into consideration such measures concerning the control of the river as
would be advantageous to the two states, and make report thereon to the
general assembly. This joint commission met at Mount Vernon, March
28, 1785, and prepared a report to be submitted to the respective state legis
latures for the definite adjustment of jurisdiction over Chesapeake bay and

SliCONP .FEKM 1A ihiL I-FAji^Al Cttn. 45!

the Potomac river. The discussion of this subject brought up another —
the system of duties on imports and exports, and uniform regulations in
commerce and currency. A supplementary report was adopted in com
mittee, recommending legislation to these ends. The recommendation was
first acted upon by Maryland, and by her legislature \vas commended to the
consideration of the general assemblies of Pennsylvania and Delaware.

Mr. Madison had been one of the commissioners on behalf of Virginia,
and the action of the legislature of Maryland in the premises becoming
known to him, he was encouraged in the belief that concert of action
among the several states might, at that stage, be agreed upon. He had
long desired to have Congress invested with more authority in the gov
ernment of the confederation, and had previously made efforts to that end ;
in consequence, he was regarded in an unfavorable light by some members
of the state legislature, when matters relating to the powers of Congress
came before that body. To avoid this, having prepared a suitable resolu
tion, he prevailed upon his colleague, Mr. Tyler, to present it to the house.
Near the close of the session it was taken up, and was passed the 2ist of
January, 1786. The resolution provided for the appointment of delegates
from each of the states, to meet at a time and place to be agreed upon, "in
order to take into consideration the trade of the United States ; to examine
the relative situation and trade of the said states ; to consider IK w far a
uniform system in their commercial regulations may be necessary to their
common interest and permanent harmony ; and to report to the several
states such an act, relative to this great object, as, when unanimously rati
fied by them, will enable the United States in Congress effectually to pro
vide for the same. " The commissioners first named were Kdnumd Ran
dolph, Dr. Walter Jones, James Madison, St. George Tucker, and Men
u-ether Smith. The Senate added the names of Colonel Mason and David
Ross. This movement eventually led to the holding of the convention that
framed the Constitution.

.Among the early measures taken by the legislature, was the appoint
ment, in 1770", of a commission of five members, for the purpose of a com
plete revisal of the common law of the state. The labor of revision fell
upon Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Pendleton, and Mr. Wythe, and resulted in the
compilation of one hundred and twenty-six bills. Of these a fe\v were
brought before the house from time to time, and passed as the need for the
regulation they covered became pressing ; by far the greater portion was
withheld for the time, owing to accumulation of other business. In the
passage of these bills Mr. Madison took a leading part, and deeming it
advisable that the people should understand their provisions, he introduced
a resolution causing a limited number of copies in be printed ar.d circulated
in every count}' in the state. Further prosecution of the work was deferred
until the next meeting of the legislature

452 JAMES MADISON.

During this session of the legislature numerous petitions were received
alleging a decline in public morals, and soliciting a general system of taxation
to provide for the settlement of religious teachers, all of which was in the
interest of the Episcopal form of religion. Petitions were also received
from dissenters — Baptists and Presbyterians, asking that ' ' religious freedom
be established upon the broad basis of perfect political equality ; " the Episco
pal church asked for the repeal of all laws which interfered with their power
of self-government. The committee of religion reported, favoring the incor
poration of the Episcopal and Presbyterian churches, and such other denom
inations as should apply for incorporation. However, a bill for the incor
poration of the Episcopal church was the only one brought in, and it was
left over until the ensuing session. In October it was again taken up and
championed by Mr. Henry, who claimed that a direct tax for the support
of religion should be paid by the people of the state, and a resolution of
that import passed the House. Even the Presbyterian church, so long
accustomed to Episcopal supremacy, favored the passage of a law for the
support of religion. Mr. Madison stood almost alone in opposition ; he
had studied the effect of the bill in all its bearings, and had witnessed the
oppression already practiced upon the less influential sects in some of the
counties.

During the same legislative session a resolution had been passed by a
large majority, in favor of the " incorporation of all societies of the Chris
tian religion which may apply for the same." A bill was brought in for the
incorporation of "the clergy of the Protestant Episcopal church." This
was afterward amended to include the laity. Mr. Madison was opposed to
it, but gave it his vote, deeming that the best manner in which to defeat the
more objectionable measure proposed. On the day of its passage the bill
"establishing a provision for teachers of the Christian religion," was con
sidered in committee of the whole. After three days' discussion, further
action was postponed until the fourth Thursday in the following November,
which carried it one day beyond the limit of the current term of the legis
lature. The bill was ordered printed, and copies were sent to all parts of
the commonwealth in order to obtain an expression of the opinion of the
people. This was an opportunity which was improved by Mr. Madison
with zeal and eloquence, and the copies were returned to the legislature
with long lists of names registered in opposition. The bill was effectually
disposed of, and taxation in support of religious societies was never again
considered.

MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 453

CHAPTER IV.

MEMBER OF CONGRESS AND OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION.

Til 1C earlier part of the legislative vacation in the spring and summer of
1785, was devoted by Mr. Madison to a continuation of his law
studies, and later was relieved by a few \\eeks of travel in the North, during
which lie visited Philadelphia and New York. The preceding summer he
had passed in the western woods; this year he had received a pressing invita
tion from Mr. Jefferson, to spend a few months with him in Paris, but various
reasons prevented this, chief among which was the break it would produce
in his law studies; besides, the time was too limited for such a trip as he
would wish to take. During this year he received the compliment of the
degree of doctor of laws from the college of William andMary — an honor
as deserved as it was unsought. His correspondence with various friends
was continued, and the proceedings in Congress were carefully noted.

The next session of the legislature convened the l/th of October, 1/85.
To Mr. Madison was again assigned the chairmanship of the commitee on
courts of justice ; but the regulation of commerce demanded immediate
action. Petitions were received from various quarters soliciting relief; it
was claimed that the course of Kngland in permitting none but British ves
sels the privilege of trade with the West Indies, had done much to injure
the American merchant marine ; no vessels were building, and even the
coastwise trade was in the hands of foreigners. The subject was discussed
in committee of the whole. Mr. Madison leading in the debate, and deliver
ing a speech of great power, in which he indicated what seemed to him the
proper course to pursue. A resolution was adopted declaring that "an act
ought to pass to authorize the delegates of this state in Congress to give the
assent of the state to a general regulation of the commerce of the United
States, under certain qualifications." A supplemental'}' resolution was then
adopted, instructing the delegates in Congress to propose such recommenda
tions as would comply with the spirit of the foregoing resolution. After

454 JAMES MADISON.

discussion this was amended, limiting to a period of thirteen years such
commercial restrictions as were deemed necessary. This destroyed the
force of the resolution, and it was allowed to remain on the table.

The proposition for a general convention to frame a constitution and
erect a permanent form of government, originated in New York in July,
1782, and was again proposed by Massachusetts in 1785 ; neither of these
propositions, however, was productive of the effect sought. It fell to Vir
ginia, and to her eminent statesman, James Madison, to take the initiative.
This was done in the presentation of a resolution, through his friend Mr.
Tyler, which was then furthered in a well considered speech by its author.
A committee of seven was appointed, with Edmund Pendleton as chairman.
The other members were Dr. Walter Jones, James Madison, St. George
Tucker, Meriwether Smith, David Ross, and Mr. Ronald. The latter
declined to serve, leaving the delegation to consist of six members. Of the
states in the confederation, but nine appointed delegates ; and of these, five
only were represented in the convention that assembled in Annapolis, Sep
tember u, 1786. Delegates were present from Virginia, Delaware, Penn
sylvania, New York, and New Jersey. Under these circumstances it was
deemed inexpedient to proceed, and a resolution was adopted expressing the
wish that " speedy measures may be taken to effect a general meeting of
the states in a future convention for the same and such other purposes as
the condition oi public affairs may be found to require." It was suggested
that delegates be again appointed, and that another general convention be
held at Philadelphia in the following May.

On the 4th of December following, the Virginia legislature appointed
a second committee, consisting of George Washington, Patrick Henry,
Edmund Randolph, John Blair, James Madison, and George Wythe. Mr.
Henry declined to serve, and Dr. James McClurg was appointed in his
stead. The second convention having for its object a revisal of the articles of
confederation, met in Philadelphia May 9, 1787. The obstacles to be over
come in accomplishing this work were many, and comprised chartered
rights ; state sovereignties ; the rights of corporate companies ; collisions
of interests ; differences regarding boundaries; beside many other points
that occurred to delegates and were brought forward for discussion. It is
doubtful if any other plan of union than that then existing, had at the time
been entertained. When a change was first suggested in the convention, it
was considered preposterous, the greater number of the delegates adhering
to the original plan of a simple revision of the existing articles of confed
eration. Gradually the idea of a more definite and comprehensive union
gained adherents, and before the close of the four months' deliberation, was
definitely decided upon, and a rough draft of the articles was prepared.
Report was then made before the convention, and a committee of five, of
which Mr. Madison was one, was appointed to arrange and revise the

MEMBER OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION. 455

articles. This being concluded to the satisfaction of the convention, and
the form thus prepared adopted, the committee was continued and instructed
to prepare an address to the people.

Immediately following the acceptance of the Constitution by the con
vention, a resolution passed for laying it before Congress. Mr. Madison,
who was a member of Congress as well as of the convention, arrived in
New York September 24th, a few days after the proposed constitution had
been delivered to that body. He found some of its articles had been criti
cized by Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, and Nathan Deane, of Massa
chusetts, who declared that the new constitution should not be submitted to
the people by the body that had derived its existence from the present con
stitution of federation. Mr. Madison was equal to the occasion, and
reminded Congress that it had recommended the convention as a proper
means for obtaining " a firm, national government," and that it ill became
members to propose captious objections to the carrying 'forward of a plan
they had themselves endorsed. The difficulties encountered in the hall of
Congress were overcome, and on the 28th the following resolution was
adopted: " Congress having received the report of the convention lately
assembled in Philadelphia, resolve unanimously that the said report, with
the resolutions and letter accompanying the same, be transmitted to the
several legislatures, in order to be submitted to a convention of delegates

«"* o

chosen in each state by the people thereof, in conformity to the resolves of
the convention made and provided in that case." This result was undoubt
edly due, in great measure, to the influence of Mr. Madison. The Con
stitution was then placed in the hands of the people, where its merits and
demerits were fully and impartially discussed.

During the months that followed, Mr. Madison, Mr. Hamilton, and
Mr. Jny contributed to tin1 Federalist a series of essays explanatory of the
principles of government, discussing every phase that could in any manner
or by any possibility affect the Constitution, or be affected by it. The
collection comprised eighty-five essays, of which number it is known Mr.
Madison wrote twenty-nine, while Mr. Hamilton was the author of the
greater part of the remainder.

On the 1st of October, 1787, the board of trustees and faculty of
Princeton college conferred on Mr. Madison the degree of doctor of laws.
In forwarding him the diploma a few weeks later, Dr. Witherspoon thus
addressed him :

"SiK, — The diploma for the degree of doctor of laws, which the trus
tees and faculty of this college did themselves the honor of conferring on
you last commencement, ought to have been sent long ago but, as there
are no printed forms for the honorary degree, we often find it difficult to
get them properly executed. This occasioned a little delay, which has been
protracted to a very blamable length. It now accompanies this letter; and

456 JAMES MADISON.

I hope you will have no difficulty in believing that all concerned in this
college were not barely willing, but proud of the opportunity of paying
jome attention to, and giving testimony of their approbation of, one of
their own sons who has done them so much honor by his public conduct.
And, as it has been my peculiar happiness to know, perhaps more than
any of them, your usefulness in an important station, on that and some
other accounts, there was none to whom it gave more satisfaction."

The legislature of Delaware was first to ratify the Constitution, which
it did by an unanimous vote December 7, 1787. Pennsylvania, by a
vote of forty-six to twenty-three, did the same on the I2th of December,
and on the iSth New Jersey gave her assent without an opposing vote. On
the 2d of January following, Georgia wheeled into line with unanimity, and
one week later Connecticut subscribed to the Constitution by a vote of one
hundred and twenty-eight to forty. Thus far no serious opposition had been
encountered, but the assembling of the convention of Massachusetts January
pth, produced a check to further progress, and it required four weeks of dis
cussion, followed by the adoption of a proposition for amendment to accom
pany the Constitution, before it was ratified, by a majority of but nineteen
in a body of three hundred and forty-five members present. The New
Hampshire convention next met, February ipth. So intense a degree of
opposition was here met that the friends of the movement deemed it best
to adjourn until the third Wednesday in June, in order to allow of further
informing the people regarding the provisions of the Constitution. The
convention of Maryland assembled April 2ist, and seven days later voted
for ratification, sixty-three votes being given in its favor as against eleven
opposed. The South Carolina convention was in session twelve days, and
ratified the Constitution by a vote of one hundred and forty ayes to sev
enty-three nays. Eight states had now signified their assent to the adop
tion of the Constitution, while the ratification of nine states was required
before its establishment among the number thus acting.

Throughout this period Mr. Madison had kept up a continuous corres
pondence with leading men in each of the states, in which he had learned
the probable amount of opposition that would be encountered, and had
given advice and encouragement to pursue unflinchingly a consistent course
in urging the adoption of the Constitution. Virginia was the ninth state in
order, to consider the claims of the Constitution in convention, and from the
information he possessed of the opposition to be there encountered, and the
character and standing of its opponents, he felt that the issue was in doubt.
Two of the delegates from Virginia, Colonel Mason and Governor Ran
dolph, had refused to sign the Constitution in the general convention, while
Richard Henry Lee had been prompt in his opposition in Congress.
General Washington, who had served as presiding officer in the convention,
and was himself in favor of the Constitution, had sent copies of it to Patrick

MEMBER OE THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION. 457

Henry, General Thomas Nelson, and Colonel Benjamin Harrison. Each
responded with expressions of personal esteem, but of aversion to the pro
posed change.

Against this powerful opposition were arrayed General Washington,
James Madison, Mr. Blair, George \Vythe, Edmund Pendleton, and some
others of less prominence. The general assembly met at Richmond, Octo
ber 15, 1/87, and during the session settled upon Monday, the 2d day of
June, 1/88, for the assembling of the convention. Throughout the session
the subject of ratification of the Constitution was uppermost in the thoughts
of all. Though absent in Congress, Mr. Madison was kept so fully informed
of the condition of affairs as to be able to take a comprehensive view of the
field of public opinion there as elsewhere. The' following letter addressed
to Mr. Jefferson, then in Paris, under date December 9, 1787, gives his view
of the situation at that time :

" The Constitution proposed by the late c onvention engrosses almost
the whole political attention of America. All the legislatures, except that
of Rhode Island, which have been assembled, have agreed in submitting it
to state conventions. Virginia has set the example of opening a door for
amendments, if the convention should choose to propose them. Man-land
has copied it. The states which preceded referred the Constitution, as rec
ommended by the general convention, to be ratified or rejected as it

stands The body of the people in Virginia — particularly in

the upper and lower country, and in the northern neck — are, as far as I can
gather, much disposed to adopt the new Constitution. The middle country
and the south side of James river are principally in the opposition to it.
As yet a large majority of the people are under the first description ; as
also, are a majority of the assembly. What change may be produced by
the united influence of Mr. Henry, Mr. Mason, and the governor, with
some pretty able auxiliaries, is uncertain. My information leads me to sup
pose there must be three parties in Virginia. The first, for adopting,
without attempting amendments. This includes General Washington, and
the other deputies who signed the Constitution ; Mr. Pendleton, Mr. Mar
shall, I believe ; Mr. Nicholas, Mr. Corbin, Mr. Zachariah Johnson, Col
onel Innes, Mr. Beverly Randolph, I understand; Mr. Harvie, Mr. Gabriel
Jones, Dr. Walter Jones, etc. At the head of the second part}*, which
urges amendments, are the governor and Mr. Mason. These do not object
to the substance of the government, but contend for a few additional guards
in favor of the rights of the states and the people. I am not able to enu
merate the characters who fall in with their ideas, as distinguished from the
third class, at the head of which is Mr. Henry. This class concurs, at
present, with the patrons of amendments ; but will contend for such as strike
at the essence of the system, and must lead to an adherence to the princi
ple of the existing confederation, — which most thinking men are convinced

458 JAMES MADISON.

is a visionary one, — or to a partition of the Union into several confederacies.
Mr. Harrison, the late governor, is with Mr. Henry. The general and
admiralty courts, with most of the bar, oppose the Constitution ; but on
what particular grounds I am unable to say. General Nelson, Mr. John
Page, Colonel Bland, etc., are also opponents; but on what principles, or
to what extent, I am equally at a loss to say. In general, I must note that
I speak, with respect to many of them, from information that may not be
accurate, and merely as I should do in a free and confidential conversation
with you. .... Mr. Henry is the great adversary who will
render the event precarious. He is, I find, with his usual address, working
up every possible interest into a spirit of opposition.

" It is worthy of remark, that, whilst in Virginia and some of the
other states in the middle and southern districts of the Union, the men of
intelligence, patriotism, property, and independent circumstances are thus
divided, all of this description, with a few exceptions, in the eastern states
and most of the middle states, are zealously attached to the proposed Con
stitution. . . . . It is not less worthy of remark, that in Vir
ginia, where the mass of the people have been so much accustomed to be
guided by their rulers on all new and intricate questions, they should on
the present, which certainly surpasses the judgment of the greater part of
them, not only go before, but contrary to, their most popular leaders; and
the phenomenon is the more wonderful, as a popular ground is taken by all
the adversaries of the new7 Constitution. Perhaps the solution in both these
cases would not be very difficult ; but it would lead to observations too dif
fusive, and to you unnecessary. I will barely observe, that the case in Vir
ginia serves to prove that the body 'of sober and steady people, even of the
lower order, are tired of the vicissitudes, injustice, and follies which have
so much characterized public measures, and are impatient for some change
which promises stability and repose."

The strongest opponents of the Constitution in Virginia, were undoubt
edly Patrick Henry, Colonel Mason, and Richard Henry Lee. The weight
of their influence was felt on all sides, but, as Mr. Madison states in the
letter previously quoted, the people were in advance of their leaders. The
objections of Colonel Mason were at first limited, but eventually extended
to condemnation of every article. The plan he followed was to alarm the
people by prophesying a lapse into monarchy after a short trial of the unit
system as a republic. Mr. Lee was actuated by much the same spirit;
and Mr. Henry hesitated at no measure that could be furthered by his
unmatched eloquence.

The adjournment of the legislature on the 8th of January, transferred
the advocacy of and opposition to the Constitution to the broad field of the
state. Into the contest for the election of delegates to the convention mem
bers carried with them the sentiments they had adhered to in the assembly.

MEMBER OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION. 459

Mr. Madison was still a member of Congress, which was then sitting in New
York. On the 5th of February General Washington wrote him: "Many
have asked me with anxious solicitation, if you did not mean to get into the
convention, conceiving it of indispensable importance." Mr. Madison
replied: "I have given notice to my friends in Orange, that the country
may command my services in the convention if it pleases. I can say, with
great truth, that in this overture I sacrifice every private inclination to con
siderations not of a selfish nature. I foresee that the undertaking will

involve me in very laborious and irksome discussions ; that public opposi
tion to several very respectable characters, whose esteem and friendship I
greatly prize, may unintentionally endanger the existing connection ; and
that disagreeable misconstructions, of which samples have been already
given, ma}- be the fruit of those exertions which fidelity will impose. But I
have made up my determination on the subject; and, if I am informed that
my presence at the election in the count}' be indispensable, I shall submit
to that condition also, though it is my particular wish to decline it, as well
to avoid apparent solicitude on the occasion, as a journey of such length at
a very unpleasant season." Communications received soon after this from
his friends in Orange count}', decided Mr. Madison upon a journey to his
home. Colonel William Moore, who hail been his colleague in the state
legislature, wrote him in the following terms, urging his presence: "You
know the disadvantage of being absent at elections to those who offer them
selves to serve the public. I must therefore entreat and conjure you — nay,
command you, if it were in my power — to be here in February, or the first
of March next. Pray don't disappoint the wishes of your friend , and many
others, who are wavering on the Constitution, and anxiously writing for an
explanation from you. In short, the}' want your sentimentsy/v, // your oicti
mouth, which they say will convince them of the necessity of adopting it. I
repeat again, come."

Mr. Madison left New York on the 4th of March, calling, on his jour
ney, at Mount Yernon, and reached his home the da}* preceding the elec
tion. The lime was short, but such was the trust of his constituents in the
integrity and wisdom of their representative, that he was elected a member
of the convention, and strengthened by a colleague of his own opinion.
The season was now so far advanced that he determined on remaining in
Virginia until after the adjournment of the convention, which would meet
in June.

During this interval the correspondence with Mr. Jefferson was con
tinued, and so strong a sentiment did it express of his opinions regarding
the Constitution, that to omit it here would be to do him an injustice,
Under date April 22, 1788, he wrote as follows: "The proposed conven
tion still engrosses the public attention. The elections for the convention
here are just over, and promulged. From the returns (excluding those from

4/>O JAMES MADISON.

Kentucky, which are not yet known), it seems probable, though not abso
lutely certain, that a majority of the members elect are friends to the Con
stitution. The superiority of abilities, at least, seems to lie on that side.
The governor [Randolph] is so temperate in his opposi
tion, and goes so far with the friends of the Constitution, that he cannot
properly be classed with its enemies. Monroe is considered by some as an
enemy ; but I believe him to be a friend, though a cool one. There are
other individuals of weight, whose opinions are unknown to me. .

The adversaries take very different grounds of opposition. Some
are opposed to the substance of the plan ; ethers to particular modifications
only. Mr. Henry is supposed to aim at disunion. Colonel Mason is grow
ing every day more bitter and outrageous in his efforts to carry his point.
The preliminary question will be, whether previous

alterations shall be insisted on or not. Should this be carried in the affirma
tive, either a conditional ratification or a proposal for a new convention will
ensue. In either event, I think the Constitution and the Union will be both
endangered. It is not to be expected that the states which have ratified will
reconsider their determinations, and submit to the alterations prescribed by
Virginia. And, if a second convention should be formed, it is as little to
be expected that the same spirit will prevail in it as produced an amicable
result to the first. It will be easy, also, for those who have latent views of
disunion to carry them on under the mask of contending for alterations,
popular in some, but inadmissible in other, parts of the United States.
The real sense of the people of the state cannot be easily ascertained.
The}7 are certainly attached, and with warmth, to a continuance of the
Union ; and, I believe, a large majority of the most intelligent and inde
pendent are equally so to the plan under consideration.

While Mr. Jefferson favored a revision of the articles of confederation
and the adoption of a form of government that would unite the divergent
interests of the country, he deemed certain features, and the lack of other
express provisions, as grave mistakes. In a letter to Mr. Madison, dated
December 20, 1787, he said: "I like much the general idea of framing a
government which should go on of itself peaceably without needing contin
ual recurrence to the state legislatures. I like the organization of the
government into legislative, judiciary, and executive. I like the power given
the legislature to levy taxes ; and for that reason solely, I approve of the

greater house being chosen by the people directly " There

were objections on other points — in particular, the omission of a bill of
rights ; and the indefinite re-eligibility of the President. In all, he favored
the adoption of the Constitution, by nine of the states, and the refusal by four
of its ratification until such amendments as they should propose, were
adopted, thus providing for covering the points he specially mentioned, as
well as others that might in the future be brought forward. Or, in lieu of

MEMBER OF THE CONSTITUT^y -\L CONVENTION. 46*

this, to follow the plan proposed by Massachusetts, — accept the Constitu
tion as a whole, and afterward amend. In letters addressed to General
Washington and to Kdward Rutledge, of South Carolina, written about this
time, he thus spoke of Madison's connection with the ratification of the
Constitution by Virginia: "He will be its main pillar; but, though an
immensely powerful one, it is questionable whether he can bear the weight
of such a host," referring to the strong intellects arrayed against him.

The convention of Virginia which assembled in Richmond, on Monday,
June 2, 1 788, was composed of one hundred and seventy members. Ed
mund Pendlcton, one of the ablest and most influential of the main" able
men comprising the convention, was unanimously chosen president. After
the election of other officers and the appointment of a committee of privileges
and elections, the convention adjourned to the following da)*. On the 4th
it resolved into committee of the whole. The interest of all classes was
centered on the deliberations of the convention, and each day the lobbies
were crowded with representative men of the state, beside many strangers
from other states. Debate was opened by George Nicholas, who confined
himself to the first two sections of the first article, — those relating to the
organization of the I louse of Representatives. He was followed by Mr
Henry, who brought the weight of his eloquence to bear against the Con
stitution, and went beyond the giound agreed upon in the earl}' debate ot
the question. Governor Randolph replied to Mr. Henry, and was in turn
met in argument by Colonel Mason. The discussion of the day was closed by
Mr. Madison. It is to be regretted that tile limits of this work will not allow
of copious extracts from many of his speeches on this and on other occasions.
The question of ratification of the Constitution was mainly discussed by
the persons whose names have heretofore appeared, the burden of refuting
the arguments of the opposition falling almost entirely upon Mr. Madison.
With him each point was candidly considered ; those bearing weight were
allowed to stand, while those intended simply to influence the result, were
torn in pieces, and their fallacies exposed. Mr. Jefferson expressed an
opinion of Mr. Madison when in his prime, that well represents him in this
convention. lie says: "Taken all in all, he was the ablest man in debate
I have ever met with. lie hail not, indeed, the poetic fancy of Mr. Henry,
his sublime imagination, hi.s l«^ft/ and overwhelming diction. But he was
cool, smooth, and persuasive; his language flowing, chaste, and embellished;
his conceptions quick, acute, and full of resource ; never vanquished.

Add to this, he was one of the most virtuous and benevolent of
men ; the kindest friend ; the most amiable and pleasant of companions.
which ensured a favorable reception to whatever came from him." Pos
sessed of the attributes thus ascribed to him by his friend, and which were
reiterated by others familiar with the man and his character, it is not to be
wondered that he overcame even the almost resistless eloquence of Pal

462 JAMES MADISON.

rick Henry, of whom Jefferson wrote: "He seemed to me to speak as
Homer wrote."

Debate on the Constitution was brought to a close on the 230! of June,
and on the 24th Mr. Wythe, who had occupied the chair throughout the
deliberations, descended to the floor, and submitted a proposition for its
ratification. This was debated during the two following days, all of the
leading opponents to the Constitution speaking against it, while but four of
its friends — Mr. Madison, Governor Randolph, Mr. Nicholas, and Mr. Inncs
— spoke in its favor. The question was then put to the house on Mr.
Wythe's proposition, and carried, and a committee consisting of Mr. Mad-
son, Mr. Randolph, Mr. Nicholas, Mr. Marshall, and Mr. Corbin, was
appointed to prepare a suitable form of ratification. The form prepared by
the committee was signed the following day by the president of the conven
tion. A bill of rights was afterwards agreed upon by the house, and
lt recommended to the consideration of Congress, to be acted upon accord
ing to the mode prescribed in the fifth article of the Constitution." Thus
was ended a contest second only in importance to that which preceded the
adoption of the Constitution in the general convention.

New Hampshire had ratified the Constitution the 2ist of June, thus
making the required number to insure its adoption, although that fact was
unknown to the Virginia convention. The ratification in New Hampshire
was severely contested, and wras only carried conditionally. Neither North
Carolina nor Rhode Island had as yet accepted the Constitution, and the
latter refused even to call a convention for that purpose.

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 463

CHAPTER V.

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS.

UNDER the Constitution each state was now entitled to two senators
No date had been decided upon for the election of these officers, and
on November I, 1/88, Patrick Henry, who had been foremost in the oppo
sition to the Constitution, moved that the two houses of the Virginia assem
bly proceed to the election of senators as the order of business for one week
from that clay. It was the wish of his friends that Mr. Madison present his
name as a candidate, although his preferences led him to the lower house.
In deference, however, to the wishes of those who had sustained him in
public life thus far, he consented that his name be presented, well aware that
the determined opposition of Mr. Henry and all others who so strenuously
condemned the ratification of the Constitution, would be centered toward
his defeat. Mr. Henry took it upon himself to nominate two candidates
for the offices — Richanl Henry Lee, and Mr. Grayson — both of the number
of those who opposed the Constitution ; at the same time, by disparaging
Madison in the minds of members of the assembly, he attempted to
still further increase the strength of his candidates. As it was, the vote was
close, resulting in ninety-eight for Mr. Eee, eighty-six for Mr. Grayson,
and seventy-seven for Mr. Madison.

Efforts were made by Mr. Henry in an attempt to still further humiliate
Mr. Madison. A new arrangement of Congressional districts was made,
by which it was hoped to defeat him in a re-election to the House of Repre
sentatives ; at the same time a law was passed that no member should repre
sent a district in which he did not reside. These efforts to keep him out of
Congress had the effect to excite a general interest in his behalf in other
sections of the state. Both Williamsburg and Augusta, though in other dis
tricts, proposed that he run for office under their patronage, believing the
law prohibiting such representation unconstitutional. He resolved to
remain by his own district, and in the latter part of December returned to

TAMES MADISON.

his home in Orange. The election was to take place the 2<d day of Febru
ary ; his opponent was James Monroe, an intimate friend, and one of those
who had opposed the ratification of the Constitution. It is a remarkable
fact that though these two were leaders in several political contests, and
were pitted against each other during the greater part of the five weeks
preceding this election, their friendship remained unimpaired through life.
The result of this campaign was the election of Mr. Madison by a handsome
majority.

The first Congress assembled in New York on the first Wednesday in
March, 1789, to begin its deliberations under the new Constitution. It was
not, however, until the early part of April that a quorum was present for
the transaction of business. Immediately after organizing it proceeded to
open the returns from the electoral colleges of the several states. On the
6th day of the month a joint meeting of the two houses was held, for the
purpose of determining the election of a President and Vice President. The
choice fell upon George Washington for President, and John Adams for
Vice President. Measures were taken to inform the officers elect that their
presence was desired. Information was conveyed to General Washington
by Mr. Charles Thompson, who had served as secretary to the old Congress
during a period of fourteen years. On the 23d of April the President-elect
arrived in New York, and, arrangements being completed, on the 3Oth day
of April, 1789, he subscribed to the oath of office before the two houses of
Congress, sitting for that purpose, in the Senate chamber. Following his
induction into office, the President delivered to Congress his inaugural
address, in answer to which addresses of confidence and attachment were
voted by both houses. That of the House of Representatives was reported
by a committee, of which Mr. Madison was a member, and was written by
him.

That Madison was most implicitly trusted by Washington is sus
ceptible of proof. While the first President was possessed of a good degree
of education, and strong mental faculties, when he came to prepare his
answer to the address of Congress, he experienced a strong distrust of his
own capabilities for the formulation of a document that would, in all proba^
bility, be spread upon the pages of history. He therefore solicited the
assistance of Mr. Madison in its preparation in the following lines:

THE 5th, 1789.

" MY DEAR SIR: — Notwithstanding the conviction I am under, of the
labor which is imposed on you by individuals, as well as public bodies, yet,
as you have begun, so I would wish you to finish the good work in a short
reply to the address of the House of Representatives (which I now enclose)
that there may be an accordance in the business. As the first of everything

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 465

in our situation will serve to establish a precedent, it is devoutly wished, on
my part, that these precedents may be fixed on true principles.
"With affectionate regard, I am ever yours,

' ' GEORGE WASHINGTON. "

A few days later a similar request was made with regard to his reply
to the address of the Senate. In both instances the request was complied
with , and during the earlier part of his administration, President Washing
ton honored both himself and Mr. Madison by frequently calling upon him
for his advice and opinion, when came up an}' doubtful line of policy.
There is no doubt he would have called Mr. Madison to a seat in his cabinet,
had not the Constitution expressly declared that ' ' no senator or represen
tative shall, during the time for which he was elected, be appointed to any
civil office under the authority of the United States, which shall have been
created, or the emoluments whereof shall have been increased, during such
time." As the cabinet was created by Congress, so no member of either
house could, under the foregoing article, be appointed to it during that term
of Congress.

By general consent, the leadership of the House of Representatives in
the first Congress under the Constitution, devolved upon Mr. Madison.
Certainly no member was better entitled to such eminence, either by educa
tion, length of service, or characteristic fitness and ability. Almost the
first business after the administration of the oath of office, was the offering
by him of a resolution providing for the immediate raising of a revenue,
and " rescuing the trade of the country, in some degree, from its present
anarch}'." Heretofore it had been impossible to establish a uniform system
of imposts, owing to jealous}' between the maritime states. New and
increased powers were conferred on Congress by the adoption of the Con
stitution. Mr. Madison proposed the system of 1783 as the basis of their
action. That system consisted of specific duties on certain enumerated
articles of foreign merchandise, including spirituous liquors, wines, teas,
cocoa, coffee, sugars, molasses, and pepper, together with five per centum
011 line-numerated articles. To these he desired to add a graduated scale of
duties on the tonnage of all foreign vessels importing goods into the United
States, discriminating in favor of American citizens brought into competi
tion with the subjects of foreign powers; and also allowing extraordinary
privileges to such foreign countries as had formed treaties of commerce
with the United States. Considerable discussion ensued on a proposition to
add to the enumerated articles certain others used in the business of manu
facturing and distilling in the eastern states ; but the greatest objection
was encountered in the clause discriminating in favor of powers having
commercial relations with us, as against those which had declined to enter
into such relations. England was the most prominent of the latter class,
and had already absorbed the greater part of the carrying trade. Great

466 JAMES MADISON.

opposition was brought to bear by the merchants of New York, many
of whom favored British interests, that city being notoriously tory in senti
ment. The propositions of Mr. Madison, ably advocated by himself and
others among the leading minds of the House, were carried by a large
majority, but were finally stricken out in the Senate. They were after
wards passed by that body after giving solemn assurance that a separate
bill covering the points at issue, should be reported and carried, which, how
ever, was never done.

Immediately following the settlement of the question of imposts came
another important subject before the House. On the iSth of May,
Mr. Madison introduced resolutions favoring the establishment of an
executive department, to be known as the department of foreign affairs, — •
afterwards changed to department of state ; also for a department of the
treasury, and a department of war, — all of which was authorized by the Con
stitution. The discussion of this subject was long, and involved an exam
ination into the true meaning of the Constitution in some of its most essen
tial features: the security of the public liberty, and the efficiency and
success of the administration. It was proposed that the President be
empowered to appoint the heads of departments, who should constitute his
cabinet, and the discussion turned on the point whether he should have
absolute power in removals, or whether Congress, or the Senate, should
be allowed a voice in the matter. It was finally determined by a vote of
thirty to eighteen, that to the President alone belonged the right of removal.

In consonance with the demands of his constituents, and of the state
which he represented, on the 8th of June, 1789, Mr. Madison introduced a
series of propositions designed as amendments to the Constitution. These
were mainly in the nature of a declaration of rights, for freedom of speech,
freedom of the press, freedom of religion, the security of property, per
sonal liberty, trial by jury, and other points not covered by the Constitu
tion. In addition, he aimed to provide for a fuller representation of the
people in Congress ; and to prevent Congress from voting an increase of
pay to take effect during the current representation. These propositions
were accepted by both houses, and by them submitted to the states for
their action, in the form of twelve additional articles to the Constitution,
Of these, except the last two, all were promptly ratified by the legislatures
of three-fourths of the states, and became parts of the Constitution. The
adoption of these amendments was soon followed by the ratification of the
Constitution by both North Carolina and Rhode Island, which states had
heretofore held themselves aloof from the Union under the new govern
ment. While the House was considering the foregoing propositions, the
Senate turned its attention to the organization of the judiciary department.
The bill was considered in committee, then reported to the Senate, and
passed by a vote of fourteen to six. On the 25th of August it was taken

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 467

up in the House, and there discussed, at intervals, until the i/th of Septem
ber. As a branch of government of paramount importance, Mr. Madison
gave it his earnest and anxious attention. The measure was passed as it
came from the Senate, though amendments were desirable, yet the close of
the session was near at hand and members were desirous to return to their
homes, and not disposed to give the subject the consideration its impor
tance deserved.

The first session of Congress under the Constitution had called for the
unremitting care and oversight of a leading and directing mind. It was
necessary that nearly every feature of the government be revised and
adapted to surrounding circumstances. Foreign relations, finance, imposts,
the judiciary, were to be remodeled, or established, and to each of these in
its turn did Mr. Madison direct his attention ; in nearly all, his was the first
proposition presented, and on him fell the burden of explanation, argument,
and proof. Not alone in Congress was he relied upon : he was the trusted
friend and counsellor of the President, and during the early months of his
administration, until the appointment of the cabinet, he was frequently con
sulted regarding the proper course to be pursued; even in the selection
of his permanent advisors, President Washington conferred with him and
in the choice of a secretary of state solicited his influence with Mr. Jef
ferson. During the recess of Congress, which he spent at his home in Vir
ginia, he visited Mr. Jefferson, who had recently returned from France, and
explained to him the reasons why his services were at that time of more
value to the country in the office to which he had been called, than they
could by any possibility be as minister to France. It was in great part clue
to the earnest representations made by Mr. Madison, that Mr. Jefferson was
prevailed upon to sacrifice his own inclinations and give to the President the
benefit of his ripe experience in public affairs.

Mr. Madison was detained in Virginia by the serious illness of his
mother, and during his trip to New York was himself delayed by illness, so
that he did not arrive until some days after Congress had resumed, in Janu
ary, 1790. The President's address was delivered the 8th. On the I4th
an exhaustive report was made by Alexander Hamilton, secretary of the
treasury, which was ordered printed, and \vas made the order of the da}*, two
weeks from the date of its reading. The immediate effect of the publication
of this report was to precipitate speculation in the depreciated government
securities, which were almost worthless, and of which he advocated the full
payment. In a letter to Mr. Jefferson, written the 24th of January, Mr.
Madison says: " Prior to the report's being made, the avidity for stock
had raised it from a few shillings to eight or ten shillings in the pound; and
emissaries are still exploring the interior and distant parts of the Union, in
order to take advantage of the ignorance of holders." The mania for spec
ulation extended even to members of Congress, to whom was entrusted the

468 JAMES MADISON.

making of the laws for the payment of these securities. Vessels were dis
patched from New York, their destination being southern ports, and the
object in view, the purchase of obligations of the government at the very
lowest rate, before information of the measures proposed in Congress
should reach remote points ; couriers with relays of horses penetrated to
the interior of the country on the same errand; every advantage was taken
of the ignorance of holders of bonds and securities. It was in the midst of
this speculative mania that the House began discussion of the report. Res
olutions were offered embodying the recommendations of the report. The
first, affirming the propriety of making adequate provision for fulfilling the
engagement of the United States regarding foreign obligations, was passed
without debate. The second, declaring that " permanent funds ought to be
appropriated for the payment of interest on, and a gradual discharge of, the
domestic debt," gave rise to debate, which continued two days.

Recognizing the obligation of the government to pay the bonded debt,
both foreign and domestic, Mr. Madison felt the injustice that would be
done by paying the full amount to speculators. He therefore proposed in
such cases that payment should be equalized between the sufferer and the
speculator. In upholding this course in the House he said : "They may
appeal to justice, because the value of the money, the service, or the prop
erty advanced by them has never been really paid to them. They may
appeal to good faith, because the certificates, which were in fact forced
upon them by the government, cannot be fairly adjudged an extinguish
ment of the debt. They may appeal to the motives for establishing public
credit, for which justice and faith form the natural foundation. They may
appeal to \he precedent furnished by the compensation allowed to the army
during the late war, for the depreciation of bills, which nominally discharged
the debts due to them. They may appeal to humanity ; for the sufferings
of the military part of the creditors can never be forgotten, while sympathy
is an American virtue ; to say nothing of the singular hardships, proclaimed
by so many mouths, of requiring those who have lost four fifths, or seven-
eights of their due, to contribute the remainder in favor of those who have
gained in the contrary proportion." Admitting, with fairness, the claims
that might be allowed on behalf of the purchasers of the public securities, he
further said: "Such then, being the interfering claims on the public, one
of three things must be done : pay both, reject wholly one or the other, or
make a composition between them on some principle of equity. To pay
both is perhaps beyond the public facilities; and as it would far exceed
the value received by the public it will not be expected by the world, nor
even by the creditors themselves. To reject wholly the claims of either, is
equally inadmissible. Such a sacrifice of those who hold the written engage
ment of the government would be fatal to the establishment of public credit.
To make the other class the sole victims was an idea at which human nature

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS. 469

recoiled. A composition, then, is the only expedient that remains. Let it
be a liberal one, in favor of the present holders ; let them have the highest
price which has prevailed in the market ; and let the residue belong to the
original sufferers." Referring then to the fluctuations of stocks in Europe
as compared with those of the United States in her extremity, he concluded:
"It maybe objected that such a provision as I propose will exceed the
public ability. I do not think the public unable to discharge honorably all
its engagements, or that it will be unwilling, if the appropriations shall be
satisfactory. I regret as much as any member, the unavoidable weight and
duration of the burthens to be imposed, — having never been a proselyte to
the doctrine, that public debts are public benefits. I consider them, on the
contrary, as* evils which ought to be removed as fast as honor and justice
will permit, and shall heartily join in the means necessary for that purpose.
I conclude with declaring, as my opinion, that if any case were to happen
among individuals, bearing an analog}- to that of the public here, a court of
equity would interpose its redress ; or that, if a tribunal existed on earth by
which nations could be compelled to do right, the United States would be
compelled to do something not dissimilar in its principles to what I have
contended for. "

Opponents were not wanting to combat the views of Mr. Madison.
In answer to him arose Mr. Sedgwick and Mr. .Ames, of Massachusetts;
Mr. Laurence and Mr. Benson, of New York; Mr. Boudinot, of New
Jersey, and Mr. Smith, of South Carolina. With the strength born of
numbers the}' overbore his arguments, and during the week's debate that
ensued were strengthened by the outside pressure brought to bear. When
the question was put to a vote, his proposition was rejected by a very large
majority. Two months later, notwithstanding the result of the vote on this
question, Congress was under the necessity of recognizing the right of the
principle he enunciated. An appropriation had been made to pa}' to the
North Carolina and Virginia line certain arrearages, which claims had been
bought up at prices much below their real value, and assignments obtained
by speculators, who took advantage of the ignorance or distresses of the
claimants. Proof of these facts being adduced, Congress passed resolutions
virtually annulling the assignments, and directing the secretary of the treas
ury to pa}' the claims only to the original claimants, or to persons duly
authorized by them under a power of attorney, attested by two justices of
the peace, authorizing the receipt of a specific sum. These matters have
been treated thus full}' in order to a better understanding of the principles
that governed ever}' action of Mr. Madison in his official life, principles
from which he never deviated during his eventful public career, and which
are worthy of emulation by the men of this and succeeding generations.

Previous to the adoption of the Constitution no system had been fol
lowed in obtaining a census of the several states. It therefore devolved

4/O JAMES MADISON.

upon Congress to provide for the periodical enumeration of the inhabitants.
The Constitution enjoined such census, as a basis on which to estimate
federal representation, and direct taxes. A committee consisting of one
member from each state, was appointed and reported a bill for this purpose.
Mr. Madison believed that a more comprehensive census would be of great
value to law-makers, and he proposed an amendment to the bill, providing
for an analytical and classified enumeration, distinguishing by their respect
ive pursuits the different classes of the people, thus enabling legislatures to
adapt the public measures to the requirements of different communities.
This was an idea twenty years in advance of the most progressive European
statesmen, and was adopted by the House. In its mutations in the Senate
the provision was afterward dropped, and did not appear upon the statute
books until some fifty years later. However, the far-seeing statesmanship
of Mr. Madison should have credit for this effort at advancement.

The subject of the assumption of state debts followed soon after action
had been taken in support of the public credit, and developed a great
amount of discussion, as well as a spirit of determined opposition from
members representing states which had made successful efforts to provide
for their individual liabilities incurred in the contest for independence. Such
weue opposed to the payment of debts contracted by neighboring states,
after meeting their own obligations. Mr. Madison took strong Grounds

o o o o

against assumption, arguing that the state debts were not in their nature
debts of the United States. For a time after the delivery of Mr. Madison's
speech the subject was dropped. It was again brought forward in the
course of the discussion relating to the permanent location of the seat of
government. This latter question developed a great amount of feeling,
particularly among the southern members, who saw in the effort to locate
the capital at New York, or at farthest, on the Susquehanna, an attempt at
belittling the interests of Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia. In this
contest the lines between north and south were for the first time sharply
drawn. There seemed no other resort than a compromise, whereby the
assumption of the state debts would be granted, and the capital located on
the bank of the Potomac after remaining for ten years at Philadelphia.
On this basis the question was finally settled.

On December 6, 1790, Congress assembled at Philadelphia, in accord
ance with the resolutions providing for a temporary and a permanent seat of
government. It was opened as before, by a speech from the President.
The House of Representatives again appointed a committee, of which Mr.
Madison was a member, to prepare an address in answer to the speech.
This being clone, the attention of the House was called to the necessity for
making provision looking to the payment of the state debts assumed at the
late session. It seemed probable that resort would be had to excises, to
meet the demand that would soon be made. To this Mr. Madison was

RE-ELECTED TO CONGRESS.

opposed, as "giving arbitrary powers to the collector, exposing the citizen to
vexatious searches, and opening the door to fraud and perjuries, that tend
equally to vitiate the morals of the people, and to defeat the public revenue."
He preferred a direct tax to the imposition of excises, but knowing that such
would meet with determined opposition from the people, he was with reluct
ance constrained to vote for an excise to be imposed on spirituous liquors,
which was carried by a vote of thirty-five to twenty.

In the early part of the session the secretary of the treasury had pre
sented his report, in which he urged the incorporation of an United States
bank, to be modeled after the similar institution in England. The excises
being disposed of, the bank bill was called up, and debate begun by Mr.
Madison, who opened with a general review of the advantages of banks.
He held that greater advantages would be obtained by the establishment
of several banks, but denied that the authority for the establishment of such
an one as was proposed could be derived from the Constitution. He then
discussed the text of that document, and the conclusions arrived at relating
to the powers delegated by each article as it was presented to the conven
tion that framed it, and from these deduced that the ground on which he
stood was the only one tenable. In closing his argument he said: "The
exercise of the power asserted in the bill involves all the guilt of usurpa
tion ; and establishes a precedent of interpretation, leveling all the barriers
which limit the power of the general government and protect those of the
state governments." He was answered by Messrs. Ames, Sedgwick, and
Gerry, of Massachusetts ; Laurence, of New York ; Boudinot, of Xew
Jersey; Smith, of S.uith Carolina, all of whom "united in the doctrine,
that Congress, in the exercise of power, was not restricted to the means
necessary and proper for the execution of the powers specifically granted,
according to the language of the Constitution ; but might do whatsoever it
deemed necessary and proper to the ends for which the Constitution was
adopted and those powers were conferred," and contended that the eighth
section of the first article, relative to the "common defense and general
welfare," in connection witli the power of taxation, were the sources from
which they derived the power to establish a national bank. In reply to
them able speeches were made by Mr. Stone, of Maryland ; Mr. Giles, of
Virginia ; and Mr. Jackson, of Georgia. The debate was closed by Mr.
Madison, in a vigorous review of the arguments of his opponents, and a
strengthening of the ground he had taken by further reference to the bind
ing force of the Constitution. His logical deductions were of no avail, how
ever, the bill being carried in the affirmative by a vote of thirty-nine to
twenty, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia,
voting in the negative. Thus the division between the north and the south
was strengthened.

Previous to its adjournment, March 3d, 1/91, Congress adapW a reso-

472 JAMES MADISON.

Jution fixing the meeting of the second Congress for the 4th Monday in
October, following. During this interim Mr. Madison and Mr. Jefferson
projected an excursion through the eastern states for the purpose of viewing
a section of country neither had before visited. It was while on this tour
that Mr. Madison was induced to take a part in the establishment of a
weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, which was placed under the editorial
management of Captain Philip Frenau, who had been his classmate in col
lege. This paper was projected in order that the republican party might
have an organ which should represent it, as opposed to the United States
Gazette, published under the patronage of Colonel Hamilton, in the interest
of the federalists. The new paper was established in the autumn of 1791,
under the title of the National Gazette, and was published with recognized
ability for the space of two years, its editor in the meantime holding a
clerkship under the government, in the state department, the salary, how
ever, being meagre — only two hundred and fifty dollars per year.

FURTHER CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE.

4/3

CHAPTER VI.

FURTHER CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE-MARRIAGE.

AGAIN, on the opening of the second Congress, did Mr. Madison pre
pare the answer of the House to the speech of the President. Very
few changes had taken place in the membership. The census returns were
now in, and it became the duty of Congress to decide upon a ratio of
apportionment. Great difference in views was brought out in the discussion
relative to the number of members to be allowed the House, the ratio of
representation proposed varying from one in thirty thousand to one in forty
thousand. A proposition was made for one hundred and twenty represent
atives, to be apportioned among the states in a ratio of one in each thirty
thousand ; it was found such arrangement would leave unapportioned eight
members. Those remaining were then allotted to eight of the states, giving
two to the states south of the Chesapeake, and six to the states north of the
bay. In this form the bill was passed by the two houses, and submitted, to
the President for his signature. It did not meet his approbation, and the
cabinet was divided on the question, Hamilton and Knox declaring in its
favor, while Jefferson and Randolph believed it unconstitutional. To obtain
further light the President recurred to the judgment of Mr. Madison, which
being in the negative, thus coinciding with the opinions of the secretary of
state and the attorney general, it was returned with a veto. Very soon
after a bill was reported fixing the ratio at one representative in every thirty-
three thousand population, which received the President's signature and
became a law.

The first session of the second Congress closed May 8, 1/92, and stood
adjourned until the first Monday in November. The speech of the Presi
dent, on the opening of Congress, was this time prepared by Colonel
Hamilton : the reply of the House was prepared by a committee, of which
Mr. Madison was chairman, associated with Mr. Benson, of New York, and
Mr. Murray, of Maryland, the two latter warm personal friends of Hamil-

474 JAMES MADISON.

ton. The address of the House was but an echo of the sentiments of the
speech. During the session of Congress the secretary of the treasury
was charged with disobedience of instructions, in employing certain funds
in a manner different from that specified in the act of appropriation. The
charges being sustained, a resolution of censure was proposed by Mr. Giles,
of Virginia, which was vigorously debated by 'leading members of the
House, Mr. Madison making a powerful speech in support of the measure.
Such was the composition of the House, however, that on being brought to
a vote, the proposition was lost.

Immediately after the close of Congress, in the latter part of March,
1792, Mr. Madison returned to Montpelier, and devoted much of the vacation
to his estate, seeking relief for his mind, which had been severely taxed in
the consideration of public questions. He abandoned for a time, the political
and philosophical articles he had been preparing for publication in Frenau's
Gazette, in answer to those of Colonel Hamilton, which were published in
the United States Gazette. The condition of the growing crops, particularly
of the wheat, which was severely injured by unfavorable weather, attracted
his attention, as it had a direct bearing upon his income. He was also experi
menting, to some extent, in improved agricultural implements, and wrote,
as follows, to Mr. Jefferson, who had invented a very useful and service
able plow: " Repeat my thanks to Dr. Logan, if you have an opportunity.
The patent plough is worth looking at, if you should visit his farm. You
will see your theory of a mould-board more nearly realized than in any other
instance ; and with the advantage of having the iron wing (which, in com
mon bar shares as in great, lies useless under the wood) turned up into the
sweep of the board, and relieving it from the brunt of the friction. By fix
ing the coulter, which is detached, to the point of the share, it will, I think,
be nearly complete. I purpose to have one so constructed. The detached
form may answer best in old, clean ground, but will not stand the shocks of
our rough and rooty land, especially in the hands of our ploughmen."
Mr. Madison's correspondence with Mr. Jefferson contains frequent mention
of agricultural matters, in which both were much, interested, and to which,
in the intervals of public life, they devoted themselves. Progressive farmers
they were, as well as progressive statesmen. Whatever promised to be of
value early received trial, and if it realized the expectations that had been
raised, its merits were made known to the people,

During this season of relief from the tiresome duties of committee
work, and labor in the halls of Congress, he made short visits to Colonel
James Monroe, and Colonel Wilson Cary Nicholas, being absent ten days.
On his return to his father's seat, he found a number of friends who pur
posed remaining his guests several weeks ; he was thus constrained to occupy
some time with them, instead of resuming his literary work. He also con
tinued his correspondence with Mr. Jefferson, and earnestly entreated him to

FURTHER CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE. 4/5

retain the office he then held, instead of seeking the retirement he so much

desired; holding that the condition of the state demanded that he sacrifice
his private wishes to the public good.

Some portions of the summer and fall of 1793 were particularly
unhealthy in Philadelphia, where yellow fever had broken out, and raged
with great virulence. As a consequence, it was not until the 2d day of
December that a quorum of Congress was present. On the 3d the speech
of the President was delivered ; it was followed, two days later, by a written
message, referring specially to the relations with France and Great Britain.
These had for some time been questions of great moment to the govern
ment, and had been subject of discussion between the secretary of state,
Mr. Jefferson, and Edmund Genet, on the part of France ; and with Mr.
Hammond, on the part of England. Erance had proposed a treaty for a
new arrangement of commercial relations with the United States, while
Great Britain was not disposed to take any step in that direction, On the
opening of Congress was achieved a victor}' for the republicans in the
election of one of their party — Mr. Muhlenbcrg — as speaker ; it also wit
nessed the close of Mr. Jefferson's administration of the office of secretary
of state, the unpleasant relations he had with Colonel Hamilton, and his
desire for retirement from the cares of public life, leading to his resignation.
The subject of protection t<> commerce was the most important feature in
Congress. With this object in view Mr. Madison introduced a series of
resolutions proposing additional duties on the manufactures and shipping
of foreign countries having no commercial treaty with the United States.
He said that one of the chief objects of the Constitution was to vest in the
general government the power of regulating commerce, with a view to
enforce reciprocity from foreign governments. "The time was now come
when the exercise of this power, with moderation, firmness, and decision,
was called for. It was in the power of the United States, by exerting their
natural rights, without violating the rights, or even equitable pretensions
of other nations — by doing no more than most nations d<> for the protec
tion of their interests, and much less than some, — to cause their interests to
be proper!}' respected."

Discussion of the subject was postponed to the I3th of January, wher
Mr Smith, of South Carolina, became the mouthpiece of Colonel Hamilton
in the opposition to the course proposed by Mr. Madison, his principal
argument being that discrimination regarding duties might provoke war with
Great Britain, which was greatly to be deprecated in the then state of affairs
To this Mr. Madison replied with his usual conciseness and thoroughness;
and later in the course of the debate made still another speech in reply to
the opposition. After three weeks' discussion the question was had on the
first of the resolutions, which was carried by a vote of fifty-one to forty-six.
The opposition being fearful that the remainder of the resolutions would pass.

47^ JAMES MADISON.

proposed that further consideration be postponed until the first Monday in
March, which suggestion was acceded to by about the same vote that carried
the first resolution. Information regarding continued outrages upon the
commerce of the United States by Great Britain having been received prev
ious to the time appointed for the calling up of the remaining resolutions,
consideration was postponed until the loth of March, to afford time for more
authentic and accurate information. This was forthcoming in a few days, to
the effect that large numbers of American vessels had been seized and con
demned in the West Indies, ostensibly " on the pretext of enforcing the
laws of the monarchy with regard to the colony trade." The resolutions
were again postponed until after a resolution had been introduced for the
levying of an army of fifteen thousand men, to hold themselves in readiness
to respond to any call made within two years. This resolution was laid
aside, and the commercial resolutions taken up, and after two days' discus
sion they were again laid aside to take up the more pressing subject of an
embargo, that had in the meantime arisen. On the 26th of March, an
embargo was laid by the direct and immediate action of Congress, for a
period of " thirty days, on all ships and vessels in the ports of the United
States bound to any foreign port or place." On the 1 6th of April, the
President nominated Mr. John Jay, chief justice of the United States, to a
special mission, having in view an adjustment of the difficulties that had
arisen with Great Britain. The military measures brought forward by the
federalists met with no success, being rejected in the House by a vote of
fifty to thirty. This important session of Congress was finally adjourned
June 9, 1794.

Mr. Madison was married on the I5th day of September, 1794, to
Mrs. Dorothea Payne Todd, at the residence of Mr. Steptoe Washington,
who had previously married a sister of Mrs. Todd. She was a native of
Virginia, but had accompanied her parents to Philadelphia, and while yet
young had married Mr. Todd, a member of the Pennsylvania bar, who
soon after died, leaving her, a very attractive widow, with an only son. Mr.
Madison became a successful suitor for her hand, and she continued for
the space of forty-two years, and during the remainder of his eventful life,
the faithful and tender companion, the helpmeet and ornament of his
household.

The adjourned session of Congress convened the 3d day of November,
but it was not until the i8th that a quorum was present. The President's
speech on the I9th was largely devoted to the insurrection in western Penn
sylvania, which was the effect of attempted enforcement of the obnoxious
excise laws ; the militia had been called out to quell the riot, on the repre
sentation of the secretary of the treasury that this was the only proper
course to pursue. A large number of arrests were made, and two men

FURTHER CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE 477

convicted of treason, but by the clemency of the President all were granted
amnesty.

During this session of Congress was consummated Jay's treaty with
England, which, however, was not received in America until the /th day of
March, 1/95, three days after adjournment. It was not made public until
the 1st of July, and confirmed the unfavorable impressions that had already
been formed. Much delay was had in considering the different clauses of
the treat}', and it was not until the i8th of August that the President, with
many misgivings, attached his signature, which was attested by Edmund
Randolph, secretary of state.

As early as December, 1/94, Mr. Jefferson wrote Mr. Madison, depre
cating his retirement to civil life, as he had learned was his intention, and
expressed the hope that he might become the nominee of the republican
part}' for President. This Mr. Madison was not, in his own mind, pre
pared to accept, and, as future events proved, the time was not yet ripe for
such candidacy, Mr. Jefferson himself being selected for that place in oppo
sition to Mr. Adams, who was nominated by the federalists. The fall elec
tions of 1/96 resulted in the election of John Adams as President, and his
opponent, Thomas Jefferson, as Vice President. On the 4th of March,
I/97' the President and Vice President were installed. Just previous to
the inauguration Mr. Adams had a private interview with Mr. Jefferson, in
which he revealed more regarding the plans he intended to pursue in the
course of his administration, than he ever told thereafter. He proposed to
send a mission to France that should satisfy that nation, and from its com
position should also satisfy the different sections of the United States. He
was determined to join Gerry, Madison, and Pinckney in such mission, and
desired Mr. Jefferson to consult Mr. Madison, and obtain his views regard
ing the appointment. The President and Vice President again met, at the
residence of the ex-President, and, leaving at the same time, Mr. Jefferson
informed him of the conversation he had had with Mr. Madison. The Presi
dent replied that since the consultation of a few days previous, some objec
tions had been raised, which he had not contemplated. It transpired that a
cabinet meeting had been held, which had developed a strong opposition to
Mr. Madison, on the part of the federal members, who were determined
that no leading representatives of the opposition should hold office, that
being the policy dictated by their leader, Alexander Hamilton, the late sec
retary of the treasury.

The beginning of the Adams administration was the close of Mr. Madi-
ison's service as member of the I louse of Representatives. He soon returned
to Montpelier, remaining 011 his estate until the following year, when he
accepted a seat in the Virginia legislature, where he could the better oppose
the administration of President Adams. In the course of the legislative
term he took a decided stand against the alien and sedition laws, which had

4/8 JAMES MADISON.

been passed by the federalist Congress, making a report thereon to the
lower house, and becoming the author of a series of resolutions against those
laws, which resolutions have since formed a text for the doctrine of state
rights, as held by the southern states for many years, and long a cardinal
principle of a portion of the Democratic party.

IN PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S CABINET. 479

CHAPTER VII.

IN PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S CABINET— ELECTED PRESIDENT.

LATE in the winter of 1801 Thomas Jefferson was elected President
by the House of Representatives, a tie vote in the electoral college
having thrown the election into that body. The day following his inaugura
tion, President Jefferson nominated as his cabinet, James Madison secretary
of state, Henry Dearborn secretary of war, and Levi Lincoln attorney gen
eral, all of whom were confirmed by the Senate on the same day. In May,
Albert Gallatin was appointed secretary of the treasury. One of the first
official acts of Mr. Madison was the writing an approval of the treaty 01
purchase from France of the province of Louisiana. Throughout the two
terms of Jefferson's administration Mr. Madison pursued a calm, dignified
bearing in all diplomatic correspondence; and in the direction of home affairs
represented the fidelity to principle that ever characterized him, winning
increased popularity in the party he represented. As a statesman he was
the recognized peer of his political associates, and when approached the
close of Mr. Jefferson's administration, the voice of the people called him
to a higher station.

In the contest for Presidential nomination in 1808, were presented the
names of Governor George Clinton, of New York, and James Monroe and
James Madison, of Virginia. The campaign was entered into with spirit by
the friends of the respective candidates, and on the 230! of January was held
the caucus of the republican party, for the purpose of deciding upon a
candidate. Eighty-nine delegates were present, some thirty or forty of
those appointed being absent, a jxirt from sickness, some absent from the
city ; yet others remained away because they believed the candidate of
their choice could not be nominated. For the Presidency Mr. Madison
received eighty-three votes in caucus, Governor Clinton three, and Mr.
Monroe three. Clinton received the nomination for Vice President, by
seventy-nine votes. While the decision of the caucus was a foregone con-

480 JAMES MADISON.

elusion, certain of the republicans felt much embittered against President
Jefferson, believing that he had exerted his influence in favor of his sec
retary of state, thereby injuring the chances of Mr. Monroe. The latter
held the same opinion, and in answer to a letter from Mr. Jefferson, written
soon after the caucus, used some sharp words expressive of his feelings.
To these Mr. Jefferson replied with great moderation, and their friendship
was soon renewed. There is little doubt the President favored the claims
of Mr. Madison, considering him the riper statesman, and from his long
connection with the public service, justly entitled to precede his younger
friend, Monroe. The nominations did not effectually settle the question of
candidacy, for the three persons there presented were continued before the
people. The federalists presented the name of Charles Cotesworth Pinck-
ney, of South Carolina, as their candidate, and during the campaign
derived considerable strength from disaffected republicans. Mr. Monroe
received no electoral votes, but had a large following in his own state.
Mr. Madison received for President one hundred and twenty-two votes ; Mr.
Clinton received six ; and Mr. Pinckney, the federalist candidate, received
forty-seven. For Vice President, Governor Clinton received one hundred
and thirteen votes, James Madison three; James Monroe three; John Lang-
don nine ; and Rufus King forty-seven.

The inauguration of James Madison as President took place in the cap-
itol at Washington, March 4, 1809, the oath of office being administered by
Chief-justice Marshall. President Jefferson occupied a seat at his right,
members of his cabinet, foreign ministers, and others being present in large
numbers. For his cabinet Mr. Madison selected Robert Smith, of Mary
land, as secretary of state; William Eustis, of Massachusetts, secretary of
war ; Paul Hamilton, of South Carolina, secretary of the navy. Albert
Gallatin was continued as secretary of the treasury, and Caesar A. Rodney,
of Delaware, attorney general. The eleventh Congress assembled May 22d,
in accordance with a resolution passed by the previous Congress, war with
England being imminent. The non-intercourse act, which had followed
the embargo, was continued in a modified form ; on the 28th of June the
extra session of Congress was terminated.

The affair of the Chesapeake and the Leopard, in which the latter insisted
upon the right of search, and enforced her demands by firing upon and dis
abling the C/icsapcakc,. took place in June, 1807. Though the excitement
caused thereby had mostly abated, there yet remained a feeling of hostility
to Great Britain. No satisfaction had been granted for the outrage, though
nearly two years had passed. In April, 1809, Mr. Erskine, the British
minister at Washington, considering that by the enforcement of the non-
intercourse act Great Britain and France were now on equal terms, informed
the government that he was authorized, by dispatches received from his
government, to make reparation for the insult given the flag on the occasion

IN PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S CABINET 431

in question. He stated that an envoy extraordinary would soon arrive,
empowered to conclude a treaty on all questions in dispute between the two
countries; and that the orders of his government in council, would be
repealed as soon as the non-intercourse act was made of none effect. Under
these circumstances, on the iQth of the month, President Madison issued a
proclamation, stating that the British orders were revoked, to take effect
the lOth of June, when commerce would be renewed. The British govern
ment declined to be bound by the actions of its minister, who acknowl
edged that he had exceeded his instructions, and the only course left Mr.
Madison was a renewal of the non-intercourse act. Mr. Erskine was
recalled, and another envoy appointed in his stead. These proceedings
aroused a considerable degree of hostility against the British government,
and a declaration of war would have been received with joy.

The successor of Mr. Krskine as minister to the United States was Mr.
Jackson, who arrived in \Yashington near the close of the year 1809. He
was a very different man from his predecessor, and, though instructed by
his government to explain the reasons for declining to endorse the action
of Mr. Krskine, he attempted by means of censures and criminations upon
the United States government, to vindicate Great Britain. He continued the
controversy with the secretary of state some three weeks, when the Pres
ident directed that no further communication be held with him. He soon
took up his residence in New York, where he remained until his recall at
request of Mr. Madison. Not until November, 1811, was the question at
issue settled by the appointment of Mr. Foster as minister to the United
States.

Congress again assembled, the 2jth of November, 1809, anc^ among other
general measures renewed that of non-intercourse by a new act. In the early
part of 1810, the French decree of Rambouillet was made known in Amer
ica ; it was claimed to be in retaliation of the non-intercourse act. By it
all American vessels which had entered French ports since the 2Oth of
March, 1808, or which should thereafter enter, were declared forfeit, and
when taken were to be sold for the benefit of the French treasury. French
privateers also committed main' depreciations on American commerce,
which was almost destroyed. The act already referred to provided that in
case either France or England should repeal the offensive retaliatory orders,
after three months, renewal of intercourse would be permitted. The French
government was informed of the passage of this act, by the American
minister at Paris, and replied through the minister of foreign affairs that the
decrees of Berlin and Milan were revoked, and would cease to be of effect
after the 1st of the following November, it also " being understood that the
Knglish shall revoke their orders in council, and renounce the new principle
of blockade which they have wished to establish ; or that the United States
shall cause their rights to be respected by the Knglish." Events proved

432 JAMES MADISON.

that Bonaparte did not intend to revoke his decrees, unless Great Britain
should take a similar step in revoking her orders in council, or the United
States should declare war and enforce her rights. The agreement of the
French minister was of no force, the sequestration of vessels and their
cargoes continuing as before. In March, 1811, the emperor declared that
"the decrees of Berlin and Milan were the fundamental laws of his empire."
About the same time the new French envoy to the United States officially
informed the government that no remuneration would be made for property
sequestrated.

The British refused to revoke the orders in council, on the ground that
no sufficient proof existed of the revocation of the decrees of Berlin and
Milan, and insisted that the non-intercourse act was unjust and partial.
This state of things had the effect to increase the hostility to England,
particularly as American vessels and their cargoes continued to be seized
by British men-of-war, and sold under order of their admiralty courts.

In February, iSil, the President appointed Joel Barlow minister to
France, with full instructions to negotiate a treaty of commerce with that
nation. He made strenuous efforts to procure a revocation of the decrees,
and finally obtained from Napoleon a decree that "so long as the British
orders in council were unrepealed, and the principles of the treaty of Utrecht
[1/13] with respect to neutrals were in operation, his edicts of Berlin and
Milan must remain in force, as to those nations which should suffer their
flag to be denationalized" The British government was again appealed to,
to withdraw the orders in council, on the ground that the French edicts
were repealed, and replied, that " whenever those edicts were absolutely
and unconditionally repealed by an authentic act of the French government,
pidilicly promulgated, their orders would be revoked."

The twelfth Congress assembled November 4, iSn, and organized by
electing Henry Clay, speaker. Mr. Clay was just entering upon his first
term in the representative body, having already served two short terms in
the Senate. He was an ardent administration man, and was ably seconded
by Messrs. Calhoun, Cheves, Lowndcs, of South Carolina, and other
influential southern representatives, together with William H. Crawford, of
Georgia, in the Senate. As far remote as the close of the Jefferson admin
istration, war with Fngland had been contemplated, but no provision for
offense or defense had been made ; the army had been reduced to three
thousand regulars, while the navy comprised but twenty vessels — ten frig
ates, and ten sloops-of-war and smaller vessels. One hundred and fifty £~un-
boats had been built, but they were useful only in harbor and river defense.
Through the advice of Mr. Clay, Mr. Lowndes, and Mr. Calhoun, the policy
of the administration was changed. Mr. Madison was by nature a man of
peace, and it was with much difficulty he was prevailed upon to acquiesce
in the inevitable and allow of preparations for war. Bills were passed pro-

IN PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S CABINET. 483

viding for the enlistment of twenty thousand men ; authorizing the Presi
dent to call for volunteers to the number of fifty thousand ; authorizing the
repairing and equipping of all frigates in ordinary, and making appropria
tions for building such additional frigates as might be necessary. The Presi
dent was also authorized to require that each of the states provide its
proportion of one hundred thousand militia, to be armed, equipped, and
held in readiness to march at a moment's notice. One million dollars was
appropriated to carry forward war preparations.

The time approached when Mr. Madison's first term as President
would expire. A caucus of the members of the existing Congress would
place in nomination candidates for President and Vice President. Already
there was developed among Republicans some opposition to the re-election
of Mr. Madison, owing to his conciliator}- course, and his opposition to war
measures. The leaders of the part}' in New York proposed the name of
De Witt Clinton, then lieutenant-governor of that state and mayor of New York
city; a man of influence, who stood high in council, and whose convictions
would have hesitated not a moment in resenting the aggressions of Great
Britain. Mr. Madison was waited upon by a delegation of his friends, who
informed him of the state of affairs, and assured him that unless he was pre
pared to declare war against England, neither his nomination nor election
could be relied upon. He quickly decided to acquiesce in the will of his
friends, and use his best endeavors in furtherance of an object for which he
had no taste, but which seemed the only course to pursue.

Previous to this there had been several changes in the cabinet : James
Monroe had succeeded Robert Smith as secretary of state, in November,
and William Pinkney had succeeded Cujsar A. Rodney as attorney-general
in December, 181 I. The secretaries of war and the navy were not fitted for
the duties pertaining to their office in time of war. Mr. Monroe was the
only member of the cabinet who had an}' military experience, and his expe
rience was limited to a short term of service in the revolutionary war. With
such officers at the head of these departments, it was doubtful if efficiency
could be had.

No change in the policy of Great Britain toward the United States
having taken place, on the 4th of .April, 1812, an embargo of sixty days
was laid on vessels of the United States.

Louisiana was set off and admitted into the union as a state on the 8th
of April, 1812, and by a subsequent act the remainder of the Louisiana ter
ritory was organized as the Missouri territory. Many important acts were
passed by this Congress, among which was one for the apportionment of
representatives in accordance with the census of 1810. The President
transmitted a special message to Congress on the 1st of June, in which he
reviewed the difficulties which existed with Great Britain. This message

was referred to the committee on foreign relations, a majority of whom

484 JAMES MADISON.

agreed upon and reported to the House a manifesto, as the basis of a decla
ration of war. The reasons given for this procedure were in substance as
follows: "The impressment of American seamen by the commanders of
British ships of war ; the British doctrine and system of blackade; and the
adoption and continuance of the orders in council of that government, which
operated to the interruption and injury of American commerce." To this
was added a long unsatisfied demand for remuneration on account of depre
dations committed on private property in the seizure and confiscation of
merchant vessels. Then followed the proceedings which eventuated in a
declaration of war, the House in the meantime sitting with closed doors.
The measure was adopted by a vote of seventy-nine to forty-nine. In the
Senate a delay of fourteen days ensued, when the act was adopted by a vote
of nineteen to thirteen. The President signed the declaration on the i8th of
June. It was prepared by the attorney-general, William Pinkney, and is as
as follows :
"A/i act declaring war between the United Kingdom of Great Britain and

Ireland, and the dependencies thereof, and the United States of America

and the territories thereof.

"Be it enacted, etc., That war be, and the same is hereby declared to
exist between the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and the
dependencies thereof, and the United States of America and their territories;
and that the President of the United States is hereby authorized to use the
whole land and naval force of the United States to carry the same into
effect, and to issue to private armed vessels of the United States, commis
sions, or letters of marque and general reprisal, in such form as he shall
think proper, and under the seal of the United States, against the vessels,
goods, and effects of the government of said United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Ireland, and the subjects thereof."

Proclamation was immediately made, informing the people of the
declaration of war, and calling upon them to sustain the cause of the gov
ernment in the pending conflict. The federalists, and others who were not
of the party of the administration, formed an organization which they
called the " peace party," and by every means in their power threw obsta
cles in the way of prosecution of the war. There were many among the more
prominent of the federalist party, who, when they found the government
disposed to push the war with vigor and persistence, gave it all their
strength and support.

Had the declaration of war been delayed but five days, it is probable
the country would have been saved great loss of life, immense expense, and
untold suffering. The British government had from August, 1810, until
May, 1812, refused to credit the representations made by the American
ministers that the Berlin and Milan decrees had been annulled, until they
were convinced that the revocation was absolute and not conditional. On re-

IX PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S CABINET. 485

ceiving official intelligence from France that the decrees had been definitively
revoked, the orders in council had been suspended, and information to that
effect was at once forwarded to America, where it was received just five days
too late to prevent hostilities.

The forces of England being largely employed in the war on the
continent, it was nearly seven months before an}* decisive measures were
taken in the American war. The blockade of the Chesapeake was not pro
claimed until the 26th of December, 1812; the English manifesto was not
issued until January 9, 1813; the British naval forces did not arrive until
early in February, 1813. By the 2Oth of March the entire coast of the
United States was blockaded, with the exception of Rhode Island, Massa
chusetts, and New Hampshire, these being excepted with tiie obvious inten
tion of sowing dissensions among the states. Several attempts were made
to procure a suspension of hostilities and the restoration of peace: one by
Sir George Prevost, governor of Canada, and one by Admiral Warren, com
manding the British fleet in American waters. These were of no avail,
however, the principle for which the country was now fighting, being the
rights of her seamen, in resisting the British code of impressment; other
demands having been allowed.

It is impossible in sketching the leading incidents in the life of James
Madison, also to write a detailed history of the war which occurred during
his administration. Seldom, indeed, did he allow the opinions of others to
overrule his own matured judgment. In the case in hand he yielded to
purely part)' influence, because he believed it would strengthen both the
party and his administration ; besides, he desired the honor of a second
term as President, which had been accorded Washington and Jefferson, both
natives of Virginia. When once pledged to the war, he gave to it the best
of his abilities, which in this one direction were not cultivated. He had
always deprecated war, and when it was forced upon him, did not at once
see the proper course to pursue. A portion of his cabinet was not what it
should be in an emergency, but two changes were made in January, 1813,
by which General .Armstrong, the late minister to France, succeeded Dr.
Eustis as secretary of war, while the secretary of the navy was succeeded
by William Jones, of Pennsylvania.

JAMES MADISON,

CHAPTER VIII.

MADISON7'S SECOND TERM AS PRESIDENT— LAST YEARS OF HIS LIFE,

THE Presidential contest of 1812 resulted in the re-election of James
Madison as President, with Elbridge Gerry as Vice President. In
this contest Mr. Madison overcame the disaffected of his own part}', and
the federalists, who, at separate conventions, had united in the nomination
of DeWitt Clinton, of New York. The inaugural ceremonies were held
in the hall of the House of Representatives, on the 4th of March, 1813,
and were attended by large numbers of citizens.

The season of 1812 had been one of reverses to the American arms on
the land, while on the sea the small navy had won for itself glory and
renown. General Hull had invaded Canada, and shortly retired to Detroit,
which post he disgracefully surrendered in August. The naval victories had
been the capture of the British frigate Gucrriere, by the Constitution, Captain
Hull, August 1 8th; the surrender of the British brig Frolic to the Ameri
can sloop-of-war Wasp, Captain John Paul Jones; the capture of the British
frigates Macedonia and Java by the Constitution, commanded first by Cap
tain Decatur, and later by Commodore Bainbritlge.

A proposition of mediation between the belligerents was made by the
Emperor Alexander, through the Russian minister at Washington, March 8
1813; Albert Gallatin, John Quincy Adams, and James A. Bayard were
appointed commissioners to negotiate a peace through this mediation. Mr.
Adams was already in Russia, and the remaining commissioners sailed under
a flag of truce, arriving in the Baltic in June. The Russian mediation was
declined by Great Britain in September, 1813, but on the 4th of November,
Lord Castlereagh informed the government that Great Britain was willing to
enter upon a direct negotiation for peace. This proposition was accepted
by the president, and Ghent, in Belgium, was decided upon as the place for
holding the conference.

The invasion of Canada was renewed in 1813, General Dearborn cap-

SECOND TERM AS PRESIDENT. 487

turing York (now Toronto), and Fort George. In January General Win-
Chester, with a force of about eight hundred men, fought a battle with the
British and Indians at the River Raisin, and was forced to surrender. In
September, 1813, the small fleet of Commodore Perry captured the British
fleet on Lake Krie, and soon after General Harrison defeated the British
and Indians under Proctor, in the battle of the Thames, in Canada, the chief
Tecumseh, being among the killed. In the southern part of the United
States the war with the Creek Indians was brought to a close, by the army
under General Jackson. On the ocean the British brig Peacock was captured
by the American sloop-of-war Hornet, commanded by Captain Lawrence.
That brave officer was soon after killed, and the frigate Constitution, to which
he had been promoted, captured in an engagement with the British frigate
Shannon; the British brig Pelican captured the American brig Argus, Captain
Allen ; the British brig Iloxcr was captured by the American brig Enter
prise, commanded by Lieutenant Burrows, who was killed in the action.
I hiring the year 1813, the frigate I^sscx, commanded by Captain Por
ter, in a cruise in the Pacific ocean, captured and armed nine large Kngiish
vessels, worth a total sum of two millions of dollars. Of this fleet Captain
Porter was for some time commodore, during that time capturing and
destroying many of the enemy's vessels. The frigate l^rcsiiicnt, Captain
Rodgers, and the Congress, Captain Smith, also made main- captures. In
the course of a year the American navy and privateers captured more than
seven hundred British vessels.

British successes on the coast were much more numerous in the year
1814, than at any time before ; several towns were bombarded and burned,
and much property destroyed. The successes of the British troops on the
continent, under Wellington, followed by the peace of Paris in this year,
relieved the flower of their army, and considerable detachments of veterans
were- transported to .America; the armies in Canada were strengthened and
preparations made for an invasion of the United States from that quarter.
In July Generals Scott and Ripley captured the British fort Fric, opposite
Buffalo. Two days later, on the 5th of July, the same commanders met
and defeated the British army under General Rial. July -5th occurred the
battle of Lundy's Lane, in which the American force, consisting of four
thousand men, under General Brown, assisted by Generals Scott and Rip-
lex', fought the British army of more than five thousand men. The Amer
icans remained in possession of the field. During the summer the British
invaded the United States by way of Lake Champlain, and attacked the
American forces at Plattsburg ; their fleet on the lake was defeated by Com
modore Macdonough, and the army was compelled to retire, after losing in
killed, wounded, and deserters, two thousand five hundred men.

The most disgraceful and unnecessary act of the war was the sacking
and burning of the capital. On the lyth of August, a British force of five

488 JAMES MADISON.

thousand men, under General Ross, sailed up the Chesapeake bay and Poto
mac river, disembarked, and proceeded by way of Bladensburg toward
Washington. At the former place they were met and opposed by a small
body of sailors and marines, but the opposition was futile, and the enemy
marched directly to the capital, where the public buildings were sacked
and burned, and many private dwellings and business houses despoiled of
their contents, an act which was strongly condemned in the British house of
commons by Sir James Mackintosh, who said it was "an enterprise which
most exasperated a people and least weakened a government of any re
corded in the annals of war. " The greatest loss to the country that accrued
from this invasion was the burning and destroying of many valuable public
records, and documents, which it is impossible to replace. Preceding the
battle of Bladensburg, the President, with the secretaries of state, navy,
and war, went to the front to take such measures as were best calculated to
retard the advance of the enemy, and narrowly escaped capture; Mrs. Madi
son was left at the executive mansion, where she saw the plate and valuables
belonging to the establishment conveyed to a secure place, before herself
seeking safety in flight. After sacking and burning as they were disposed,
the invading army set out with the intention of attacking Baltimore, but
learning that the city was well defended by militia, they paused to bombard
fort McHenry. In a slight skirmish, the British commander, General Ross,
was killed, and the enemy soon after left the Chesapeake.

The British navy was not idle during this time, but by means of supe
rior numbers was enabled to cripple and well nigh destroy the commerce of
the country, besides capturing several war vessels and privateers. The
American vessels that were so fortunate as to escape the blockade, did great
damage to the enemy's commerce, and captured a number of men-of-war of
different grades.

The crowning victory of the army was accomplished by General Andrew
Jackson, at Newr Orleans, on the 8th of January, 1815. With six thousand
men, mostly volunteers, he defeated a picked British army of twelve thou
sand men, fresh from their victory over Bonaparte, killing seven hundred
and wounding one thousand more, the commander in chief, General Pack-
enham, being among the former, and Generals Gibbs and Keene, among the
severely wounded.

In September, 1813, the British minister, Lord Castlereagh, informed
the American government that England was ready to enter upon direct
negotiation looking toward peace. With that object in view President Madi
son appointed the following commissioners to proceed to Ghent: John
Quincy Adams, James A. Bayard, Henry Clay, Jonathan Russell, and
Albert Gallatin. Three of these, — Adams, Gallatin, and Bayard, — were first
appointed as a commission to serve under the mediation of the emperor of
Russia. Mr. Gallatin, the secretary of the treasury, and Henry Clay, the

SECOND TERM AS PRESIDENT. 489

speaker of the House of Representative resigned to accept of the com
mission. In August, 1814, they met in Ghent, the British commissioners,
Lord Gambler, Mr. II. Gouldburn, and Mr. William Adams. On the 24th
of August the commissioners sent in their first report, in which they said:
"The causes of the war between the United States and Great Britain having
disappeared, by the maritime pacification of Europe, the government of the
United States does not desire to continue it in defense of abstract principles,
which have, for the present, ceased to have any practical effect. The under
signed have been accordingly instructed to agree to its termination, both
parties restoring whatever they may have taken, and both resuming all their
rights, in relation to their respective seamen." Mr. Monroe, the secretary
of state, had already instructed the commissioners, under date June 27,

1814, as follows: "On mature consideration, it has been decided, that
under all the circumstances above alluded to, incident to a prosecution of
the war, you may omit any stipulation on the subject of impressment, if
found indispensably necessary to terminate it." The British commissioners,
finding the American envoys, as they believed, anxious to accept almost any
form of peace proposition, became very extravagant in their demands,
report of which being made in the United States, great indignation was
aroused. The most lukewarm supporters of the administration decidedly
objected to the acceptance of any of the propositions of the British com
missioners. It being the opinion of the government that peace was yet in
the remote future, active preparations for war were continued. A direct
tax of six millions of dollars. was laid, and various projects were entertained
for increasing the efficiency of the army, and the means of the government
for its support.

A number of changes occurred in the composition of the cabinet, dur
ing the years 1814 and 1815. To quote from the Statesman's Manual:
"The office of secretary of the treasury being declared vacant by the Sen
ate, in consequence of the absence of Mr. Gallatin as one of the commis
sioners to negotiate a treaty of peace, George \Y. Campbell, of Tennessee,
was appointed secretary of that department, on the Qth of February, 1814.
Ill health compelled Mr. Campbell to resign in September, and Alexander
J. Dallas was appointed secretary of the treasury, October 6, 1814. Gen
eral Armstrong resigned as secretary of war, in September, 1814, and Mr.
Monroe, secretary of state, acted as secretary of war until February 28,

1815, when he was re-commissioned as secretary of state. \\illiam II.
Crawford, who had been appointed minister to France on the 9th of April,
1813, on his return from that mission was appointed secretary of war,
August I, 1815. On the Ujth of December, 1814, Benjamin Crowninshield,
of Massachusetts, was appointed secretary of the navy, in place of William
Jones, icsiirned. Gideon Grander, who had held the orifice of postmaster-

* O O

general more than twelve years, was removed by Mr. Madison, and Return

490 JAMES MADISON.

Jonathan Meigs (governor of Ohio), appointed in his place, on the i/th of
March, 1814. Richard Rush, of Pennsylvania, was appointed attorney-gen
eral, in place of William Pinkney, resigned, February 10, 1814. Jonathan
Russell was nominated as minister to Sweden, arid, after some delay, con
firmed by the Senate on the i8th of January, 1814; at the same time he
was confirmed as one of the commissioners to iiegotiate a treaty of peace
with Great Britain. Some of these changes, and those formerly noticed,
during the administration of Mr. Madison, occurred in consequence of dis
sensions and dissatisfaction among tke leaders of the democratic party, in
Congress and in the cabinet."

Early in February, 1815, information was received at Washington that a
treaty of peace had been signed at Ghent, on the 24th of December, 1814;
the treaty was at once , communicated by the President to the Senate,
and was by that body immediately ratified. Soon after this ratification, a.
convention was held in London for the formation of a commercial treaty,
the American commissioners being Messrs. Adams, Gallatin, and Clay. A
treaty prepared by them and three commissioners of Great Britain, to con
tinue in force four years, was signed in July., and soon after ratified by both
governments.

The war with Great Britain had emboldened the piratical Algerines,
who took advantage of the opportunity to capture such American vessels as
came in their way, and condemn their crews to slavery. Immediately on
the close of the war, in May, 1815, Commodore Decatur, in command of a
fleet of nine vessels, was dispatched to the Mediterranean, to punish these
depredators. Several Algerine vessels of war were captured, and in the
absence of their fleet, Decatur entered the port of Algiers, and dictated
terms to the dey, who on the 3Oth of June signed d, treaty honorable to the
Americans, by which all captives were to be released without ransom ; and
compensation made for all vessels and property taken. For seventeen years
the United States had paid twenty-three thousand dollars annually, for the
preservation of peace ; this wras forever abolished by the treaty.

The democratic majority in the fourteenth Congress was slightly
increased at the session of 1815-16. Mr. Clay had returned from Europe,
and again been chosen to represent his former constituents in Kentucky, and
for a third time was elected speaker. The system of duties and taxes was
revised, and limited protection afforded American manufacturers ; not
enough, however, to be of much avail in encouraging that class of industry,
\vhich was soon almost suspended, from the excessive importation of cheap
foreign articles. A national bank was incorporated in 1816, to continue for
a period of twenty years, with a capital of thirty-five million dollars. The
sum of two hundred thousand dollars was appropriated to provide arms and
equipments for the militia. The territory of Indiana was authorized to
form a constitution and state government, preparatory to admission into the

LATER DAYS OF HIS LIFE. 49 1

Union. The relations with Spain were also subject of discussion, but no
definite result was attained during Mr.- Madison's administration. Before
the close of the first session, a caucus of democratic members of Congress
was held, for the nomination of President and Vice President. An effort
was made to change the established custom of nomination by representa
tives in Congress, as inexpedient, but it was defeated. It was the evident
wish of Mr. Madison that the first place on the ticket be given Mr. Monroe,
his secretary of state. This developed considerable opposition, man}' mem
bers feeling that as Virginia had furnished the President for twenty-four out
of twenty-eight years, other states of the Union were justly entitled to that
honor. Democratic members of the 'legislature of New York proposed the
name of their governor, Daniel D. Tompkins, but the opposition finally
settled upon William II. Crawford, of Georgia, who had been minister to
France, and later secretary of war under Mr. Madison. The caucus gave
the nomination to James Monroe for President, and to Daniel I). Tomp
kins for Vice President. These candidates were elected by one hundred
and eighty-three votes in the electoral college, and on the 4th of March,
1817, took their respective seats as the head of a ne\v administration.

Mr. Madison had faithfully served his country in her hour of peril, and
now that peace was accomplished, and the country on the highway to pros
perity, he willingly laid a>ule the cares of government and retired to the
life of a private citi/en, with the love and confidence of the greater portion
of the American people.

The close of his Presidential term was the termination of Mr. Madison's
public labors, with one or two exceptions. In 1829 he was a member of
the convention, to frame a new constitution for the commonwealth of Vir
ginia, and \vas urgently requested to accept the office of president of the
convention, but respectfully declined the honor, proposing instead, the
name of his old-time friend and successor in the presidency, James Mon
roe, who was elected to the position.

Following the inauguration of Mr. Monroe to the Presidency, Mr.
Madison retired to his farm at Montpelier, where he found employment fcr
the mind and exercise for the body in conducting the affairs of his large
estate. Agriculture had charms for him, equalled only by his delight in
literature; the former became his employment, the latter his recreation.
After the death of his friend, Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Madison was appointed
to the head of the University of Virginia, with the unobtrusive title of
rector; he was also the president c f an agricultural society in his native
county, and while occupying that chair delivered an address which was
replete with practical suggestions.

In the full ripeness of years, James Madison died on the 28th of June,
1836, aged eighty-five years.

In his personal appearance Mr. Madison was short in stature, with a

492 JAMES MADISON.

form indicative of good living ; the crown of his head bare, and his hair
carefully brushed and powdered. In debate he was slow in speech, but
always direct and to the point. During his term as President he was bur
dened with responsibilities, and on his retirementfrom office had a careworn
appearance. As a writer he had few equals, no superiors, among American
statesmen. His essays in the Federalist are models of diction, logic, and
thought ; his correspondence has justly been admired, and his state docu
ments are admirable examples of their kind. At the time of his death he
was the last survivor of the signers of the Constitution, of which he was
one of the framers. From the ability with which he defended it, and the
fidelity with which he adhered to its provisions, he was called the a Father
of the Constitution."

The services performed by James Madison to his country, and his emi
nent qualities of intellect and patriotism, were fully recognized by the
generation which viewed his exit from the stage of action ; and many were
the evidences chronicled of that fact. From an extended summary of his
character and work, in an oration delivered by William H. MacFarland of
Virginia upon the occasion of his death, the following pertinent points are
taken: It would be no less interesting than calculated to deepen our im
pressions of his activity and influence, to notice the important agency
which he had in the settlement of the .numerous subjects which claimed
the immediate attention of congress under the new government. Time,
however, does not permit. But, as illustrating his great anxiety to redeem
the Constitution from just objections by guarding against the danger of
perverting or abusing its powers, it should be mentioned that, at the first
congress, he introduced and carried a proposition for its amendment, by
the addition of several new articles. The proposition was ratified by the
legislatures of three-fourths of the states, and thus made a part of the
Constitution. A later and yet more memorable instance of similar public
service was the resolutions of '98 and the report of '99, known as Madi
son's resolutions and report. He had been long admired as an author
and advocate of the Constitution, but was then to appear in the new char
acter of commentator, and impartially to unfold its meaning and define
the limits of the authority of the government. It was at a period of ex
citement; questions of deep import distracted the public councils and agi
tated the people; and in the opposing divisions, on either side, were many
of those who had assisted in laying the foundations of our civil fabrics.
At that critical juncture the public mind of his own state was in a condi
tion of peculiar exacerbation. He was called once more to the legislature,
to exert his benign influence in composing popular uneasiness, and to
rescue the Constitution from, as was believed, imminent peril. The man
ner in which he met the occasion and disposed of the grave subject marked
a new era in the politics of the country.

DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WAR. 4Q3

Mr. Madison was secretary of state at a period when the diplomatic
relations of the government were especially critical and unsettled. And
when he was advanced to that higher station, the highest to which his
country could elevate him as a pledge of her affection and the proof of
her reliance upon his wisdom, the administration of the government \\ as
signally arduous and responsible. For his administration it was reserved
to commit the government to that last and severest of all trials — war with
a nation strong in her resources and proud in her military renown. Look
ing back upon his long career of public service, as he passed from one
high trust to another yet more responsible, what is there wanting to com
plete his title to be considered as the benefactor of his country? What to
secure the fame to which a patriot may aspire, and is a patriot's reward?
On what occasion was he unequal to the exigency, and what state exigency
did he not encounter? When his career commenced you were without a
Constitution; your government without authority; and the times were
portentous of instant and fearful disclosures. Aided by his compatriots,
he gave you a Constitution, an efficient government and union; and with
these he added what, in a peculiar and emphatic sense, was his own — the
example of an upright and conscientious functionary. None ever imputed
the existence of a selfish or mercenary or factious motive, or complained
that he was willful and had disregarded the public interest, or impatient
and had mistaken it. The scrupulous regard to the minutest propriety,
which was conspicuous in his private relations, was exhibited in all his
official acts. Sensible that our institutions have no other foundation tl.an
the attachment and confidence of the people, he endeavored to confirm
that attachment and confidence by the mild, impartial, conscientious and
dignified manner in which he administered the powers with which he was
invested.

The last public scene, the speaker continued, in which he appeared,
passed in our immediate view. You well remember the venerable appear
ance of the venerable man. The spirit of earlier days gleaming in his
aged bosom, he came up to assist the men of another generation in revis-
in<r and amending their Constitution. The interest of the occasion derived

o ^

additional solemnity from the union with him and two others, alike the
relics of a former age, memorable for the variety and extent of their pub
lic service, and venerable for every virtue and excellence. More than forty
years had intervened since they last met in convention. Again they met
in convention, for the last time, mutually esteemed and honored by one
another. Thus closed the public life of the aged Madison — the end in
perfect harmony with the beginning. He had occupied the highest sta
tions to which a citizen may aspire, and possessed an influence that the
personal consideration in which he was held carried beyond the limits of
official importance ; but such was his unaffected modesty, he seemed un-

494 JAMES MADISON.

conscious of his honors and concerned about nothing but his duties. The
example of a high functionary is scarcely less important than his official
acts ; the errors and aberrations of a private citizen, at most, but disturb
the current of public sentiment, whilst those of leading men tend to cor
rupt the fountain. Madison was conspicuous for grace, propriety and
dignity, no less than for clear and thorough comprehension of the com
plicated and arduous subjects of civil policy, and the ability and energy of
his labors. On the various theatres that brought him in connection and
often in collision with the first men of the age, th?ai which no age has
been illustrated by a greater variety and splendor of endowment, moral
and intellectual, he displayed a capacity for public business which always
placed him in the first rank, and the admiration which his talents attracted
mingled with respect and esteem for his virtues. It was the disinterested
and chastened public spirit, of which his daily life was the witness, that
fitted him for the singular success which attended his efforts, and gave him
power to prevail over minds preoccupied with opposing opinions. It was
impossible to see him without being struck by his modest and unpretend
ing manner, which in a measure concealed his talents and virtues, nor to
meet him in private without being cheered and enlightened by his pres
ence. His fame is engraved on the polished pillars that support the
noblest fabvic which man has constructed, and as often as we admire its
beauty, and glory in its being the strength and ornament of our land, we
should think of the accomplished and devoted artist, and if we may not
aspire to his mental eminence, emulate and practice his virtues. Full of
years, time having ratified the beneficence of his plans for the welfare of
his fellow-men, he was gathered to his fathers. But he yet survives in
the institutions, in the renown, and in the affections of his country. He
sought in life no distinction but that which might attend the unremitted
devotion of his time and powers to civil and religious freedom. He asked
nothing in return but a father's request, accompanied by a father's bless
ing, that his country would be faithful to her obligations.

JAMES MONROE.

CHAPTER I.

REVOLUTIONARY SERVICE ELECTED TO CONGRESS.

REMARKABLE it is that of the five early Presidents of the United
States four were natives of Virginia, born within a radius of thirty
miles, on the strip of land lying between the Potomac and Rappahannock
rivers, in the locality, then as now, known as the "northern neck." These
four, who became so intimately connected with the events that changed the
destinies of the country, and built the greatest republic in the world from
the scattered and dependent colonies of Great Britain, were descended from
the best blood of England ; though brought up in the precept that next to
their God stood the king, the inherited spirit that sought freedom of con
science in the wilderness of the new world, in them developed into defiance
of oppression and injustice. The first of the Presidents was already grown
to man's estate and had entered upon the active duties of life — in the lonely
camp of the surveyor, or directing the hastily levied militia of the colony
against the savage foe hovering on her border, and incited to acts of vio
lence and deeds of cruelty by an alien power; Jefferson and Madison were
engaged in study, the future full of promise, before them, at the time of the
birth of one who was to be intimate!}' associated with them in the stirring
scenes of war, and the exciting events with the formation of the govern
ment.

James Monroe was descended from one of the early and honorable
families of Virginia. lie was born April 28, 1/58, in the county of West
moreland, Virginia, his father being Spence Monroe, his mother Elizabeth
jonc?. As was usually the case in the ancient Virginian families, he was

496 JAMES MONROE.

earl}* encouraged to study, and while a mere youth entered the college of
William and Mary. His early life was passed in the midst of the stirring
scenes that preceded the declaration of independence, the stamp act being
passed when he was not six years of age. The conversation of those about
him, and the sentiments he heard expressed, aroused in him the same
spirit of indignation at the injustice and oppression of the king and ministry
that pervaded the minds and hearts of all in the commonwealth, who loved
liberty and freedom. It is not strange that the hardships of war had a
greater fascination for him than the tame and irksome duties of school,
especially when united with devotion to the cause in which the patriots were
engaged. Before the age of eighteen he left the quiet college halls and set
out for the headquarters of Washington, already in the field, though the
declaration of independence was but just made. He was soon commis
sioned lieutenant, and participated in the battles, privations, and defeats of
the army during the gloom and despondency of the year I//6; at the bat
tles of the Heights of Harlem, at White Plains, and again at Trenton, he
bravely resisted the enemy. In the latter action he received a wound, the
scar of which he carried during the remainder of his life. Recovery was
rapid, and, returning to his command, he was commissioned captain of in
fantry, and again entered upon active service. His gallantry commended
him to his superior officers, and during the campaigns of 1777 and 1778 he
was detached an aide to General Lord Stirling. In becoming a staff officer
he receded from the line of promotion, and though he distinguished himself
on the fields of Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth, by conspicuous
bravery, he could not attain to higher rank than he then held. Recogniz
ing this fact he sought to regain his standing in the line of promotion, and
with this in view endeavored to raise a regiment of troops under the recom
mendation of General Washington, and by authority of the legislature.
That he failed in this undertaking was no fault of his own, the country at
that time being well nigh drained of her able-bodied men, who had already
taken up arms in defense of their liberties.

Several times he responded to the call for volunteers, in opposing the
invasions of the enemy under Arnold, Cornwallis, and Tarleton, on which
occasions he rendered efficient service in organizing the raw militia, on
which alone the state depended for protection. After the fall of Charleston,
in 1780, he was appointed military commissioner in the Carolinas, and was
instructed to obtain information as to the force that could be depended upon
in an effort to repel the invaders. This called for a journey to the region of
country occupied by the contending armies, where he performed the duties
required of him to the satisfaction of the governor, by whom he was
appointed. Following his retirement from the army, Mr. Monroe entered
upon the study of law under direction of Mr. Jefferson, who was then
governor of the state. Faithfully he pursued the course of study indi-

REVOLUTIONARY SERVICE. 497

cated by his preceptor, and though not engaged in active practice for any
length of time, the discipline and knowledge of law he there acquired,
proved of inestimable value in the legislative, diplomatic, and state ques
tions in which he afterwards took so important a part.

His prominence in military matters, intimate connection with the gov
ernor of the commonwealth, and the standing of his family, together with
his own well known worth, brought him before the people of the section in
which was his home, and in 1782 he was chosen a member of the legis
lature by the county of King George. Taking his seat in that body, he was
soon elected by his fellow-members one of the governor's executive council.
Such rare tact and discrimination did he evince in the places to which he
had been called, as to induce the legislature to elect him, while yet in his
twenty-fourth year, a delegate to represent the state in the Congress of the
confederation, immediately succeeding James Madison. The restrictions
imposed by Great Britain upon commercial intercourse with her West
India possessions was at this time attracting much attention from states
men, both north and south. Soon after taking his seat in Congress, in
December, 1784, Mr. Monroe wrote his predecessor, Mr. Madison, soliciting
a free interchange of sentiments with regard to this question; he afterward,
in 1785, brought forward a proposition for such amendment of the articles
of confederation as should vest in Congress the power of regulating com
merce with foreign nations, subject to certain qualifications. He also pre
pared an address to the legislatures of the different states, in support of the
proposition he had advanced, which was taken up by Congress, from time to
time, for consideration, but was never agreed upon. A copy of this address
he forwarded to Mr. Madison, with a request that he reply by letter, giving
his views on the subject discussed. This request Mr. Madison complied
with within a few days after receipt of the address, in a long and compre
hensive letter, discussing the state of affairs without reserve, and giving
utterance to some of the opinions that afterwards influenced and guided him
in the convention which framed the Constitution. The acquaintance of
these two was begun at Richmond a year previous to this time. This soon
ripened into friendship, which grew and strengthened with their continuence
in public life, and though personally opposed in some important measures,
it was never suffered to diminish. Their correspondence began in Novem
ber, 1774, while Mr. Monroe was in Congress at Trenton, at which time he
sent Mr. Madison a cipher to be used in confidential communications, when
ever deemed necessary.

Foreign relations were standing subject of discussion in the Congress at
this time, the course pursued by Great Britain in refusing to surrender cer
tain posts on the borders of the United States, as contemplated in the
treaty of peace, as well as the restrictions upon commerce with the \\ est
Indies, being prominent features. The claim of Spain to exclusive control

498 JAMES MONROE.

of the waters of the Mississippi, produced a critical state of affairs with that
country. Then, as now, foreign appointments were a prolific source of dis
sension, and almost before the formation of parties, lines began to be drawn
in the appointment of foreign ministers and envoys. The friends of Mr.
Jefferson proposed him as a suitable person for appointment as minister to
France, where he had already passed some months as one of the commis
sioners to negotiate treaties of commerce with the nations of Europe.
Persons inimical to Mr. Jefferson, and those who, as Mr. Monroe declared,
desired the appointment for themselves or their friends, insisted that the
mission to Spain was of paramount importance, and must of necessity be
first disposed of; that Mr. Jefferson was the only proper person for that
mission, and therefore urged his appointment. Among those classed by
Mr. Monroe as aspirants for the mission to France, for themselves or their
friends, were Robert R. Livingston, and Richard Henry Lee, who on other
questions were opponents, but in assigning Mr. Jefferson to Spain were for
once agreed. In a long letter to Mr. Madison he presented these views, and
also expressed his opinions regarding the feeling of Great Britain toward
the United States. He said on this point: "My letter to Governor Har
rison gave you what had taken place in Canada. I am strongly impressed
with the hostile dispositions of the court toward us. Not only what I saw,
but the information of all the American gentlemen lately from Great
Britain, confirms it; and particularly one of Maryland, one of Pennsylvania,
and Mr. Laurens, who is now with us. The former two have lately returned
to the continent. We are certainly in no condition for war ; and, while we
preserve the honor and dignity of the United States, must earnestly
endeavor to prevent it. If Great Britain will comply with the conditions of
the late treaty, — as we must, on our part, do what it enjoins, — our situation
is as happy as we could expect it. The sooner we are ascertained on this
point, the better it will be for us."

In reply Mr. Madison wrote under date January 8, 1/85, first taking up
the question of foreign appointments, in which he deprecated the contests
of ambition they engendered, and concluded that they should be as infre
quent as possible, in order to insure stability in the principles sought to be
adopted. Regarding the fears of Mr. Monroe that war was imminent with
Great Britain, he expressed doubts, but agreed that the policy of adjusting
all differences should be followed, without sacrificing honor. The contest
with Spain, he thought, had "a more dangerous root." He said ; "The
use of the Mississippi is given by nature to our western country, and no
power on earth can take it from them. While we assert our title to it,
therefore, with a becoming firmness, let us not forget that we cannot ulti
mately be deprived of it ; and that, for the present, war is more than all
things to be deprecated."

The dissensions raised by the rival aspirants for foreign appointment,

ELECTED TO CONGRESS.

499

were not settled for more than two months, during which time Congress was
kept in constant turmoil. At length, on the 24th of February, 1/85, a
commencement was made by the appointment of John Adams, of Massa
chusetts, to the court of St. James. This was followed, on the loth of
March, by the appointment of Thomas Jefferson as minister to France.
Mr. Jay had entered upon the duties of secretary of legation at the
court of Spain, in December, to which office he had been appointed the
preceding May, and was there continued, no minister being appointed for
the time being. The deficient accommodations afforded Congress at Tren
ton had resulted in its removal to New York, where it re-assembled in Janu
ary, 1 1, 1/85.

In a letter to his friend Madison, dated the I4th of August, 1/85, Mr.
Monroe thus recurs to the subject uppermost in his mind, the proposal to
add to the enumerated powers of Congress, the regulation of commerce:
"The report upon the ninth article of confederation will not, I believe, be
finally determined until the winter. It will, however, probably be taken up
for the sake of investigation, and be committed to the journals for public

inspection If this report should be adopted, it gives a tie

to the confederation which it hath not at present, nor can have without it.
It gives the state something to act upon, — the means by which it may bring
about certain ends. Without it, God knows what object they have before
them, or how each state will move, so as to move securely with respect to
federal or state objects." In the support of these views Mr. Monroe was
sustained by Washington, Jefferson, and Madison, neither of whom was
however, in a position to assist him with his vote. Congress finally
declined to take final action on the report, deeming it proper that the prop
osition for the increase of its powers should come from the legislatures.
The question was brought forward in the Virginia house of delegates by
Mr. ^ladison, and though not adopted, led, in the end, to steps that
resulted in the calling of the convention that framed the Constitution. That
the question at issue had a grave bearing on the cohesion of the states, was
more than once proved. In a letter from Mr. Monroe to Mr. Madison,
under date March iS, 1786, he thus relates the action of New Jersey con
cerning a requisition of Congress, in which the legislature resolved that,
" having entered into the confederation upon terms highly disadvantageous
to them, from the necessity of public affairs, and a confidence that those
points in which they were aggrieved would be remedied, and, finding that
this was not the case, and that a compact, founded in such unequal princi
ples, was likely to be fettered upon them, they would not comply with the
requisition, until their grievances were redressed." A committee from Con
gress procured a recession of the resolution, but not a compliance with the
requisition for supplies. A little more than a year later a similar charge was
preferred against Connecticut, in the constitutional convention, which charge

5OO JAMES MONROE.

was not denied by the representatives of that state, then present ; all which
goes to show that agitation of the subject of change in the government was
begun none too early. The matter wras tersely summed up in a letter of
Mr. Madison, written April 9, 1786, in which he said: "The question,
whether it be possible and worth while to preserve the union of the states,
must be speedily decided some way or other. Those who are indifferent
to its preservation would do well to look forward to the consequences of its
extinction. The prospect, to my eye, is a gloomy one, indeed."

Closely following these events came another circumstance calculated to
impair the harmony that had already been so severely shaken. This was
the difficulty with Spain regarding the occupation of the Mississippi river,
which, at one time, seemed likely to result in open war. The eastern
states were willing to abandon all claim to the occupancy of the Mississippi,
while Virginia, claiming large territory on the western bank of the Ohio,
would consent to no arrangement that would preclude access to a market in
the south ; Kentucky was no less earnest in opposition to any treaty that
would limit her occupancy of the Mississippi. Mr. Jay was instructed to
enter into treaty negotiations with the minister of Spain, his acts to
be subject to the approval of Congress. In May, 1786, he addressed a
communication to the president of Congress, recommending the appoint
ment of a committee, which should be empowered "to instruct and direct
him on every point relative to the proposed treaty with Spain." The ques
tion wras brought before the House, and a committee consisting of Mr.
King, of Massachusetts; Mr. Pettit, of Pennsylvania; and Mr. Monroe, was
appointed. Mr. Jay's plan was to enter into commercial stipulations,
granting Spain exclusive control of the Mississippi river for a period of
twenty-five or thirty years. Strong efforts were made by the friends of Jay
to bring the treaty to a successful termination, but stronger efforts were
made against any action that should limit the extension of the powers of the
government to all parts of the west and southwest, and eventually the lat
ter prevailed.

ELECTED TO STATE LEGISLATURE. 501

CHAPTER II.

ELECTED TO STATE LEGISLATURE OPPOSITION TO FEDERAL CONSTITUTION-
APPOINTED MINISTER TO FRANCE.

ALMOST at the outset of his Congressional career Mr. Monroe accepted
an appointment, together with eight other distinguished men, as mem
bers of a federal court to adjust certain long-standing differences between
Massachusetts and New York. The court was continued during two years,
without, however, accomplishing the object in view, which was finally settled
by the two states themselves, in 1786; soon thereafter Mr. Monroe resigned
his commission. His term as a member of Congress expired late in this
year, and he removed to Fredericksburg, with the view of engaging in the
practice of law, to which he had already devoted several years of prepara
tion. Very soon after opening a law office, he was elected a member of the
legislature, which met at Richmond, the I5th of October, 1787. Consid
eration of the new Constitution, which had been framed by the convention
of 1787, and duly signed the i/th day of September, was to be had in con
vention of delegates of the state, to be held in Richmond on the 2d day
of June, i/SS, and great activity was displayed by men of all shades of
opinion, in the election of delegates. Mr. Madison, as a leader in the con
vention that framed the Constitution, and its most active promoter, was
elected a tick-gate to the state convention. Mr. Monroe was believed to be
a friend to the Constitution, though a cool one. In a letter to Mr. Madi
son, dated October 13, 1787, he said: "There are, in my opinion, some
strong objections against the project, which I will not wear}' you with a
detail of; but, under the predicament in which the Union now stands, and
this state in particular, with respect to this business, they are overbalanced
by the arguments in its favor." At the election of delegates, which took
place in January, Mr. Monroe was chosen from the county of Spottsylvania.
The assembling of the convention developed the fact that he was to be
classed among the opponents of the measure, with powerful associates in

JAMES MONROE.

the persons of Patrick Henry, Colonel Mason, Mr. Grayson, Colonel Ben
jamin Harrison, and Mr. Tyler. Regarding the confederation, he said in con
vention : "I consider it void of energy, and badly organized. ... I am
strongly impressed with the necessity of having a firm, national government;
but I am decidedly against giving the power of direct taxation, because I
think it endangers our liberties. My attachment to the Union and an ener
getic government is such, that I would consent to give the general govern
ment every power contained in the plan, except that of direct taxation."

While he believed the articles of confederation possessed radical defects,
he feared the Constitution allowed Congress too extended powers, that
might be used to the manifest disadvantage of certain of the states ; also
that the legislative and executive departments were not guarded by suffi
cient checks, and a proper responsibility. " When once elected," he said,
" the President may be elected for ever." That this fear influenced the
votes of many delegates, in other of the states as well as in Virginia, is
undoubtedly true ; but, thanks to the patriotism of George Washington, the
first President under the Constitution, and his immediate successors, such
has never been the case, and in all probability never will be.

A day or two later he was called upon in committee of the whole, as
also was his colleague, Mr. Grayson, to give in detail the efforts made in
Congress to conclude the treaty with Spain. The action of seven of the
states in voting to accept a treaty giving Spain control of the Mississippi,
was dwelt upon, showing how a majority of the states could, in emergency,
control legislation ; and even pass laws that W7ould seriously injure the com
merce of their neighbors. This was brought forward to influence delegates
to vote against ratification without amendment, and was used to the best
advantage by Mr. Henry and others who were arrayed against the Constitu
tion. Notwithstanding the determined opposition to ratification of many
of the most powerful men in the convention, it was impossible to over
come the clear and logical arguments presented by Mr. Madison, and the
proposition favoring immediate ratification was carried by a vote of eighty-
nine to seventy-nine. In accordance with the course he had pursued
throughout the convention, Mr. Monroe voted in the negative.

The adoption of the Constitution by the requisite number of states
assured, the election of senators and members of the House of Representa
tives followed. Mr. Madison was proposed as senator, and in the house of
representatives of the state was defeated by five votes only. In apportion
ing the districts of the state, efforts were made by Patrick Henry and others
who had become embittered against him, to so arrange them as to defeat
Mr. Madison in a re-election to the national House of Representatives.
Monroe was nominated as his opponent because of his popularity with the
people, and also because in the convention he had voted with the element that
opposed ratification of the Constitution. The few weeks preceding the elec-

ELECTED TO STATE LEGISLATURE. 503

tion were spent in active canvass of the field, both by Monroe and Madison ;
on one occasion they met in discussion, on a cold January day, and addressed
the people from the portico of a Lutheran meeting-house, after the close of
religious service. Such was the severity of the day that Madison's ear
was frost-bitten, and in after-life he was wont laughingly to point to the scar
as an honorable mark received in battle. Monroe did not seem so much
affected by the cold, on this occasion ; but in the election he was defeated.
In writing to Jefferson a few weeks afterward, Madison said : "It gives me
great pleasure to inform you, that the friendship of Monroe and myself has
not been affected, in any degree, by our late political opposition."

The death of Mr. Grayson, who had been elected to the Senate in
November, 1788, caused a vacancy in the representation of Virginia in that
body, and Colonel John Walker was temporarily assigned to the place by
the governor, until the meeting of the legislature, when James Monroe
was elected senator. He took his seat in 1790, and shared in the dis
cussions that arose over the incorporation of the national bank. Part}'
lines were already drawn, and the names federalist and republican given the
two divisions to distinguish them. Of the latter party Mr. Monroe became
a prominent member, and soon an acknowledged leader in the Senate,
in which bod}* he remained until the close of his term in 1794, opposed to
the administration of President Washington as influenced by Alexander
Hamilton, secretary of the treasury. At the close of his term as senator he
was appointed minister to France, relieving Gouverneur Morris, whose
recall the French republic had requested. In the selection of Mr. Monroe
for this trust, the President plainly expressed the sentiments which actuated
him ; in the instructions he gave the new minister he announced to the
world the feeling of regard he had for the success and perpetuation of the
republic. The minister was told that "the President has been an earl}' and
decided friend of the French revolution ; he is immutable in his wishes for
its accomplishment, and persuaded that success will attend it." Regard
ing Jay's mission to London, Monroe was requested to say, that "he is
positively forbidden to weaken the engagements between this country and
France ; " "you will be amply justified in repelling with firmness any impu
tation of the most distant intention to sacrifice our connection with France
to any connection with Lngland. . . . Vou go, sir, to France, to
strengthen our friendship with that country ; you will let it be seen that, in
case of war with any nation on earth, we shall consider France as our first
and natural all}'. You ma}' dwell upon the sense we entertain of past ser
vices, and for the more recent interposition in our behalf with the dey of
Algiers." Truly a friendly feeling was expressed by the great chief for the
country that was the home of main- who shared with him the perils and
hardships of the war of independence. Afterward the President's sentiments
seem to have undergone a change, caused no doubt, in part, by the excess^

504 JAMES MONROE.

connected with the revolution in France, and partly by a feeling that the
opportunity for the conclusion of a treaty of commerce with Great Britain
should not be allowed to pass unimproved.

On his arrival in Paris August 2, 1794, Mr. Monroe was everywhere
received with demonstrations of respect and affection. Twelve days later
he was publicly introduced to the national convention, where he was greeted
by its president, Merlin de Douay, with a fervid speech, and publicly
embraced. The flags of the two countries were intertwined in the halls of
the assembly. He immediately availed himself of the favorable impression
produced to enter upon the business of his mission. In this he was very
successful, the convention, on his representations, repealing its retaliatory
decree, passed under the sting of the British orders in council, which sub
jected provisions on board American vessels to seizure and forced sale.
Promise was made of restitution for wrongs already done ; and assurances
of friendly aid in the settlement of existing difficulties with the Barbary
powers. In short, as in his report Mr. Monroe said : "Such is now our
situation with the French republic, and with other powers so far as depended
on the French republic, that there is but one point upon which we have
cause to feel or express any solicitude, — which is that it may not vary."

The lavish attentions bestowed upon the American minister by the
leaders in the French republic, and which were accepted in the same spirit
which prompted them, called for the unqualified disapproval of the federalist
members of President Washington's cabinet. Pickering, at that time secre
tary of state, with all others of his party, had strong leanings toward
England, and a cordial hatred of everything that tended to strengthen
friendly relations with France. Immediately on receipt of intelligence
regarding Monroe's reception, he wrote him, strongly censuring him for
not understanding many things not contained in his written instructions,
and which would have been in direct contradiction of his rules of guidance.
In his View of the Conduct of the Executive in the Foreign Affairs of the
United States, published after his return from France, Mr. Monroe thus
speaks of the captious communication he received from the secretary of
state : "In this he notices my address to the convention ; as also my letter
to the committee of public safety, of the 3d of September following; both
of which acts he censures in the most unreserved and harsh manner. In
the first he charges me with having expressed a solicitude for the welfare of
the French republic in a style too warm and affectionate, much more so than
my instructions warranted; which, too, he deemed the more reprehensible,
from the consideration, that it was presented to the convention in public,
and before the world, and not to a committee in a private chamber; since
thereby, he adds, we were likely to give offense to other countries, partic
ularly England, with whom we were in treaty; and since, also, the dictates

MINISTER TO FRANCE. 505

of sincerity do not require that \ve should publish to the world all our feel
ings in favor of France."

In the same convention he made other statements, tending to show the
feelings of President Washington toward France: "My instructions
enjoined it on me to use my utmost endeavors to inspire the French
government with perfect confidence in the solicitude which the President felt
for the success of the French revolution, of his preference for France to all
other nations as the friend and ally of the United States ; of the grateful
sense which we still retained for the important services that were rendered
us by France in the course of our revolution ; and to declare in explicit
terms, that although neutrality was the lot we preferred, yet in case we
embarked in the war, it would be on her side and against her enemies, be
they who they might." This statement was never explicitly denied by
Washington ; and after his death there were found marginal comments in a

o o

volume of Monroe's View, contained in his library, which seem to have
been written under the influence of strong feeling. The}' read : "And is
there to be found in any letter from the government to him a single senti
ment repugnant thereto? On the contrary, are not the same exhortations
repeated over and over again ? But could it be inferred from hence, that,
in order to please France, we were to relinquish our rights and sacrifice our
commerce?" This would certainly imply that Mr. Monroe was correct in
the interpretation put upon his instructions.

Considerable jealous)- was manifested by the French government on the
subject of Mr. Jay's mission to Fngland. In accordance with his instruc
tions Mr. Monroe informed the French government that Mr. Jay was
"positively forbidden to weaken the engagements between America and
France." On this point he too literally construed his instructions, for he
assured the French minister that Mr. Jay " was strictly limited to demand
reparation of injuries." When, therefore, came intelligence that the minister
to England had concluded a treat)- with that country which contained stip
ulations injurious to French interests, Mr. Monroe for a time quieted
apprehension by citing the instructions given himself, which he believed
coincided with those given Mr. Jay. At length, on the 24th of December,
1794, Mr. Monroe received a communication from the committee of public
safety, requesting a copy of the treaty made with England, that they might
be able to judge for themselvcs'regarding its bearing on French interests
To this he replied, that he had received from Mr. Jay information that a
treat}- had been negotiated, on the iQth of the preceding month, which con
tained an express declaration that "nothing therein should be construed or
operate contrary to existing treaties between the United States and other
powers." lie also added that he was as yet ignorant of the express pro
visions of the treat}-, and assured the committee that "as soon as he was
informed thereof, he would communicate the same to them." Application

5C-6 JAMES MONROE.

was made to Mr. Jay for a copy of the treaty, which he declined to furnish
for the information of the French government, but intimated that he would
send the "principal heads of it confidentially." Some correspondence fol
lowed, in which Mr. Monroe said that nothing short of an exact copy of the
treaty would satisfy the French government, and allay the suspicion that it
contained provisions injurious to them. Finally, Jay proposed to furnish an
oral communication of the contents of the treaty, through his secretary,
Colonel Trumbull ; which could not be received as it was clogged with con
ditions, both inexpedient and improper to be entertained. It was finally
communicated to an American resident in Paris, by him taken clown in writ
ing, and in this roundabout manner reached Mr. Monroe. The treaty
stipulations did not come to the knowledge of the French government until
they had been received and printed in the newspapers in the United States,
and through that channel were forwarded to Paris. As was anticipated by
the friends of the treaty, it was received in France with unqualified censure,
and its ratification by Congress soon brought affairs with that country to a
crisis.

France had a short time before this adopted a new constitution, which
went into effect the 3ist of October, 1/95, giving the control of govern
mental affairs into the hands of a director}'. The French government, after
taking three months' time for consideration of the relations that would fol
low the ratification of Jay's treaty, informed Mr. Monroe " that it con
sidered the alliance between the two countries as ceasing to exist from the
moment the treaty was ratified ; and would appoint an envoy extraordinary
to attend and represent the same to the government of the United States."
Mr. Monroe, feeling assured that the pleasant relations heretofore existing
between the two governments would be endangered by such precipitate
action, earnestly appealed to the minister of foreign affairs to forbear imme
diate action. The minister again consulted the directory, and soon after
informed Mr. Monroe that they were disposed to accommodate in this mat
ter; and he was shortly permitted to attend a council consisting of the
executive body and the ministers of foreign affairs and marine. The same
frank and manly course he had heretofore pursued, he now followed. He
proposed that the complaints of the French government be made to him in
writing, to which he would respond in fullness and candor; and that "in
the meantime the directory should suspend any decision with regard to the
merits of its complaints or the propriety of a special commission." This
request was courteously complied with, several of the members of the
directory expressing with great earnestness friendship for the United States.

That there was at this time a party in the directory favoring a declara
tion of war against the United States, is the testimony of a learned French
historian; and that this party was led by the president of that body, and
followed by one other, is assured on the same authority. There is little

MIMS1KK TO I-SAXCE. j'j/

doubt that the influence of Mr. Monroe, exerted upon the three remaining
members, had the effect to decide against such action. He himself held to
such opinion, as witness an extract from a private letter to Mr. Madison,
written February 27, 1796, in which he says: "The minister declares that
he prefers to have us open enemies rather than perfidious friends. Other
proofs occur to show that this sentiment has gone deep into their councils."
No definite action was taken by the director}' until the 2d of July, when an
arret was adopted as follows: ".All neutral or allied powers shall without
delay be notified, that the flag of the French republic will treat neutral ves
sels, either as to confiscations, searches, or captures, as the}* shall suffer the
British flag to treat them."

This was to be understood as meaning that French privateers and men-
of-war would thereafter claim the same right as enforced by England, to
seize, search, condemn, and sell American vessels and their cargoes, when
in the judgment of their captors they contained as cargo an}- provisions or
other commodities useful to themselves or their enemies. Mr. Monroe con
tinued watchfully to guard the interests of the United States in France, and
through his representations was instrumental in having rescinded the appoint
ment of a minister to America, whose previous proceedings in a similar
capacity had given offence to the government. While he was thus giving
his best service to his country, an intrigue was taking place among his polit
ical enemies to compass his removal. His inability to reconcile the French
<>'overnment to the lav treat v, was sufficient to increase the animosity

o J * * *

already felt against him by Mr. Pickering, secretary of state, and Mr. Wol-
cott, secretary of the treasury. The latter wrote Colonel Hamilton, who
had some time before had a controversy with Mr. Monroe, and in reply re
ceived a communication recommending his immediate recall. The Presi
dent was constrained to assent to his recall, to keep a semblance of har
mony in the cabinet, and he received notification of the fact, with infor
mation of the appointment of Charles Cotesworth Pinckney to succeed
him, on the 22d of August, 1796.

Returning to .America soon after the appointment of his successor, he
published his Views of the Conduct of the Executive in the Foreign Affairs
of the United States, giving an explanation of his opinions and proceedings
relative to his mission in France, and calling in question the consistency of
the course pursued by the President. His recall as minister did not affect
his personal feeling of regard for his old commander, whose merits and
integrity he never failed in acknowledging. Nor does he seem to have
cherished a feeling of malice against Mr. Jay, for his course regarding the
treaty with England, but left on record testimony to his pure patriotism and
integrity of purpose.

JAMES MONROE,

CHAPTER III.

ELECTED GOVERNOR OF VIRGINIA-SPECIAL ENVOY TO FRANCE-IN MADISON'S

CABINET.

IT was but a short time after his return from France, before Mr. Monroe
was again called upon to relinquish the practice of his profession, in
which he had immediately engaged, and take a seat in the legislature of Vir
ginia. Here he was not allowed to sink into obscurity as the ''disgraced
minister," but in 1799 was elected governor of the state. The duties of the
office were not onerous, and did not tend to bring him into great promi
nence. His intimate friend, Thomas Jefferson, was brought forward as a can
didate for President, and with Madison, Giles, Nicholas, Taylor, Mason,
Tazewell, and other young and brilliant men, Monroe put forth all the efforts
he could command to accomplish his election. This was finally deter
mined, after a long and bitter contest in the House of Representatives.

Three years service in the executive office followed Mr. Monroe's elec
tion as governor. On the loth of January, 1802, the President wrote him
that his name had been presented to the Senate for confirmation as special
envoy to France, with power to conclude a treaty of purchase of the territory
of Louisiana, which had but recently passed from the possession of Spain
into that of France. Two days later the Senate confirmed his appointment.
It was by no means certain that he would accept of the mission, and on the
1 3th of January Mr. Jefferson addressed him a letter, giving his reasons for
urging acceptance of the appointment. So good an idea do they give of
the condition of public affairs at the time that their insertion here will not
be out of place: "The agitation of the public mind on occasion of the late
suspension of our right of deposit at New Orleans is extreme. In the
western country it is natural, and grounded on honest motives. In the sea
ports it proceeds from a desire for war, which increases the mercantile
lottery ; in the federalists, generally, and especially those of Congress, the
object is to force us into war if possible, in order to derange our finances, or
if this cannot be done, to attach the western country to them, as their best

SPECIAL ENVOY TO FRANCE. 509

friends, and thus get again into power. Remonstrances, memorials, etc.,
are now circulating through the whole of the western country, and signed
by the body of the people. The measures we have been pursuing, being
invisible, do not satisfy their minds. Something sensible, therefore, has
become necessary ; and indeed, our object of purchasing New Orleans and
the Floridas is a measure liable to assume so many shapes, that no instruc
tions could be squared to fit them. It was essential, then, to send a minister
extraordinary, to be joined with the ordinary one, with discretionary
powers; first, however, well impressed with all our views, and therefore
qualified to meet and modify to these every form of proposition which could
come from the other part}'. This could be done only in full and frequent
oral communications. Having determined on this, there could not be two
opinions among the republicans as to the person. You possessed the
unlimited confidence of the administration and of the western people; and
generally of the republicans everywhere ; and were you to refuse to go, no
other man can be found who does this. The measure has already silenced
the federalists here. Congress will no longer be agitated by them ; and the
country will become calm as fast as the information extends over it. All
eyes, all hopes are now fixed on you; and were you to decline, the chagrin
would be universal, and would shake under your feet the high ground on
which you stand with the public. Indeed, I know nothing which would
produce such a shock. For on the event of this mission depend the future
destinies of this republic. If we cannot, by a purchase of the country,
insure to ourselves a course of perpetual peace and friendship with all na
tions, then as war cannot be distant, it behooves us immediately to be
preparing for that course, without, however, hastening it; and it may be
necessary (on your failure on the continent) to cross the channel. We shall
get entangled in European politics, and figuring more, be much less happy
and prosperous. This can only be prevented by a successful issue to your
present mission. I am sensible, after the measures you have taken for get
ting into a different line of business, that it will be a great sacrifice on your
part, and presents, from the season and other circumstances, serious difficul
ties. Hut some men are born for the public. Nature, by fitting them for the
service of the human race on a broad scale, has stamped them with the
evidences of her destination and their duty."

On the i6th of October, 1802, a proclamation had been issued by
Morales, the Spanish intentlent of Louisiana, withdrawing the privilege of
deposit at New Orleans, which by the treaty of 1795 had been granted the
United States for three years. This complicated affairs with Spain, and
produced a strong feeling of hostility against that country, particularly
throughout Kentucky and that portion of the territory contiguous to the
Mississippi and its tributaries. Rumors soon after reached the government
that the territory of Louisiana, or what was called the western portion

5IO JAMES MONROE.

of the Floridas, had been ceded by Spain to France by a secret treaty. On
the earliest information that Spain had withdrawn the privilege of deposit,
the federalists seemed determined to incite a war against France and Spain.
Measures calculated to produce this were brought forward in Congress ; the
good sense of a large majority of the representatives favored cooler and
more deliberate measures than suited the opposition, who were, however,
constrained to submit to the will of the majority. Two millions of dollars
were appropriated to defray expenses that might be incurred in securing
permanent right to the country bordering the lower Mississippi. Robert
R. Livingston had accepted the French mission immediately following the
change of administration ; his reception by the court of France had been
exceedingly cool, and information regarding the reputed purchase of Louis
iana was studiously avoided. His instructions were: to attempt to obtain
that portion of west Florida lying east of the Mississippi river. In this he
met with no encouragement ; and on proposing purchase was informed by
the minister that " none but spendthrifts satisfied their debts by selling their
lands." He soon learned that colonization was a favorite scheme of Napo
leon Bonaparte, who had now no expensive wars upon his hands, and saw in
Louisiana a means to dispose of his armies as well as gratify his friends.
April 24th he wrote that the French government was "at that moment
fitting out an armament of between five and seven thousand men, under the

command of General Bernadotte," which would sail for New Orleans,
" unless the state of affairs in San Domingo should change their destination."
He therefore urged the United States to establish a post at Natchez, that
would, he thought, give almost equal facilities with New Orleans.

That the purpose of the administration was foreign to this proposal is
determined in the letter of the President to Mr. Monroe. On the I2th of
March, Livingston wrote the secretary of state, Mr. Madison: "With
respect to a negotiation for Louisiana, I think nothing will be effected here.
I have done everything I can, through the Spanish ambassador, to obstruct
the bargain [between France and Spain] for the Floridas, and I have great
hope that it will not be soon concluded."

For some time differences between the continental nations had been
brewing trouble. Napoleon had been held up to odium in the British par
liament, and in various publications ; England was, if anything, anxious for
war. No better time could have been chosen for obtaining from France the
coveted territory, on the most satisfactory terms. Early in April the French
ministry changed its tone, and Talleyrand inquired whether the United
States "wished the whole of Louisiana. " He was informed by Mr. Liv
ingston " that our wishes extended only to New Orleans and the Floridas."
Talleyrand replied, if the French "gave New Orleans the rest would be of
little value, and that he would wish to know what the United States would
give for the whole. " The American minister had, a few days previously,

SPECIAL ENVOY TO FRANCE. 511

furnished the French government with the resolutions of Congress regard
ing the navigation of the Mississippi ; a French council had in the meantime
been held, at which it had been decided to sell the territory acquired from
Spain, as in case of war with England, France could not hope to hold this
distant colony, which had no feeling of interest in her success or defeat.

Mr. Monroe arrived off the coast on the I2th of April. On the I3th
M. Marbois, the French treasurer, informed Mr. Livingston that Bonaparte
said to him on Sunday: "You have charge of the treasury; let them give
you one hundred millions of francs, and pay their own claims, and take the
whole country." This proposition Livingston was not free to accept
until he had consulted with Monroe. On the I5th the two ministers offered
the sum of fifty millions of francs, and quietly awaited events. Not long
had they to remain in doubt; war was swiftly coming, and France had
pressing need of money. On the 3Oth of April a treat)' and two conven
tions were entered into between the American and French ministers, by
which the entire province of Louisiana was ceded by France to the United
States, for the sum of sixty millions of francs to be paid directly to France, —
twenty millions of francs to be paid citizens of the United States as indem
nity for seizures and confiscations of American vessels. It was also pro
vided that the inhabitants of the province should " be incorporated into the
union of the United States, and admitted as soon as possible, according to
the principles of the federal Constitution, to the enjoyment of all the rights.,
advantages, and immunities of citizens of the United States; and, in the
mean time, they should be maintained and protected in the free enjoyment
of their liberty, property, and the religion which they professed." French
and Spanish ships were, for the space of twelve years, to be allowed
entrance to any port in the ceded territory, on the same terms and in the
same manner as American vessels coining from the same or similar ports
belonging to either of those nations.

Thus, by the exercise of diplomacy, was assured the purchase of a
large territory, for the sum of fifteen millions of dollars. Just eleven days
after the conclusion of the treaty of cession, the British minister received
his passports and left France, and the bloody struggle was begun, which
finally ended only with the banishment of the ambitious Corsican who for so
main- years had fomented discord in Furopc.

The result of the negotiations being communicated to the government,
Mr. Monroe crossed the channel and succeeded Rufus King as minister to
the court of St. James. Mr. King had served in that capacity during the
Presidency of Adams, having been accredited minister about the time Mon
roe was recalled from France. He had been requested by President Jeffer
son to remain in the same capacity, but his sympathies being with the fed
eralist party, he chose to resign. Here Mr. Monroe sought an arrangement
for the protection of American seamen against impressment, and for the rec*

512 JAMES MONROE.

ognition of the rights of neutrals. Without accomplishing his object in this
direction, he was suddenly called to Spain, to co-operate with Mr. Pinck-
ney in the settlement of a dispute which had arisen relative to boundaries
between that portion of the Floridas ceded to the United States by France,
and that portion retained by Spain.

Here again the controversy was left unsettled, and Mr. Monroe was
recalled to London to maintain the rights of the United States as neutrals
in the war then waging with France. He was soon joined by William Pink-
ney, who had been appointed minister to England; together they negotiated
a treaty in 1806, which, although not as favorable as they could have
wished, was yet deemed by them advantageous to the United States. This
treaty was concluded December 3ist. Early in January the government
learned that a treaty containing no stipulations regarding impressment of
American seamen, was under consideration ; and on the 3d of February for
warded to the ministers instructions to insist on this one point; that in case
a treaty had been entered into which did not provide against impressment,
it would not be ratified. Unfortunately the treaty had already been signed,
the 3 ist of December. In addition to the omission of the stipulation
demanded, came 'a declaration of the British ministry that their government
reserved the right of departing from its stipulations relating to neutrality,
if the United States submitted to demands of search made by France.

Without submitting the treaty to Congress, President Jefferson returned
it to Mr. Monroe, with the explanation that its provisions, if agreed to,
would bind the United States in a manner foreign to its interests, for the
term of ten years, wrhile it gave Great Britain the largest latitude; that if
he saw amendment of the treaty impossible, he had best return and allow
Mr. Pinkney to procrastinate negotiations, "and give us time, the most
precious of all things to us." He then offered Mr. Monroe the governor
ship of New Orleans, at that period "the second office in the United States
in importance." The effect of this action of the President was to produce
an unpleasantness in the mind of Monroe, who conceived the course fol
lowed by Mr. Jefferson as ill-advised, in that the treaty was not submitted
to Congress. However, this would have been of no avail, as the state of
feeling in the United States at that time was strongly determined against
any stipulations that did not expressly provide for discontinuance of the
outrage of impressment. The affair of the CJiesapcakc and Leopard, which
occurred about this time, detained Mr. Monroe for a short period, when he
returned to the United States, in the late autumn of 1807. During Mon
roe's absence in Europe occurred the defection of John Randolph, chairman
of the committee of ways and means, in the House. Hitherto he had
been classed among the friends of the administration ; now he became an
outspoken opponent of Jefferson, Madison, and others, the leaders of the
party in power. In opposition to the nomination of Mr. Madison as the

IN MADISON'S CABINET. 513

successor of President Jefferson, he organized a small party of malcontents,
who were dubbed the "Quids." Among their earliest measures was the
advocacy of James Monroe as candidate for President.

Coupled with Monroe's dissatisfaction in regard to Jefferson's course in
the matter of the treat}*, was the belief that he was secret!}' endeavoring to
promote Madison's interests, and secure the nomination of the secretary of
state for President, instead of giving him an equal chance by remaining
neutral. This belief was shared by a large majority of the friends of Mon
roe. On the I9th of January, iSoS, a caucus of republican members of
Congress was called, to meet on the 230!, and put in nomination candidates
for the offices of President and Vice President. The caucus was held, and
consisted of eighty-nine members, some thirty or fort}' short of the whole
number ; the absentees being mostly those who saw no prospect for the
nomination of the candidate of their choice. In the caucus for President
Madison received eight} -three votes, Clinton three, and Monroe three ; for
Vice President, Clinton received seventy-nine votes, John Langdon five, Gen
eral Dearborn three, and John Ouincy Adams one. The result was embar
rassing to the administration. The friends of Monroe refused to acquiesce
in the decision of the caucus, anil a protest, signed by seventeen of the
"Quids," was soon after published. Several communications passed
between Jefferson and Monroe, — the latter writing with considerable warmth
of feeling, — before the breach was healed. In these letters Mr. Jefferson
disavowed any influence on the side of either, though undoubtedly his pref
erences were for Madison, who possessed the greater intellect, and was
really the better entitled to the honor. Mr. Madison in later years testi
fied to the character of Monroe, and the unimpeded flow of their friend
ship, in the following words : "His understanding was very much under
rated — his judgment particularly good. Few men have ever made more of
what may be called sacrifices in the services of the public. When he con
sidered the interests or the dignity of the country involved, his own interest
wa^ never regarded. Besides this cause, his extreme generosity — not only
to the numerous members of his family dependent upon him — but to friends
not united by blood, has greatly tended to his impoverishment. Perhaps
there never was another instance of two men brought so often, and so
directly, at points, who retained their cordiality towards each other unim
paired through the whole. \Vc used to meet in days of considerable excite
ment, and address the people on our respective sides; but there never was
an atom of ill will between us."

Three years elapsed following Mr. Monroe's return from the English
mission, before he again entered political life. History gives no intimation
of his life during this period. As he was educated to the law it is probable
he practiced at the bar. In iSi I he was again elected governor of Virginia,
which office he held until November of that year, when he succeeded Rob-

514 JAMES MONROE.

ert Smith in the cabinet of Mr. Madison, as secretary of state. In this
office he remained during President Madison's administration ; after the
British capture of Washington, in August, 1814, adding to his duties those
of secretary of war, which department was resigned by General Armstrong.
He arranged for the defense of New Orleans, and conducted affairs con
nected with the war office until peace was signed. In raising funds for the
defense of New Orleans, he was compelled to pledge his private credit, the
credit of the government at that time being at a low ebb. After the concha
sion of peace he resumed his duties in the department of state ; where he
devised those measures which aimed at the re-establishment of the credit of
the government, and more complete preparation for exigencies similar to
that through which it had just passed. In the course adopted he was sus
tained by public opinion ; and he followed the same line of policy during
the two terms he occupied the presidential chair.

ELECTED PRESIDENT.

CHAPTER IV.

ELECTED PRESIDENT-POPULARITY OF HIS ADMINISTRATION-RE-ELECTED

PRESIDENT.

EARLY in the spring of 1816 the republican members of Congress
assembled in caucus, to place in nomination a candidate for the presi
dential succession. The part}' in Xe\v York pressed the claims of Governor
Daniel D. Tompkins to the first place on the ticket. At the time of the
resignation of General Armstrong as secretary of war, Mr. Madison pro
posed that Monroe should vacate the office of state, and that Governor
Tompkins should succeed him. To this the latter demurred, assicrnincr as a

I o o

reason, that he could render more service to the government as governor of
New York than as a member of the cabinet. This offer of the President
was construed by the friends of Governor Tompkins as an intimation that he
would receive the support of the administration in the next presidential con
test. That he was not so supported was a disappointment to his friends,
who thereupon united with others of the part}' who were inimical to Mon
roe, in efforts to secure the nomination of William H. Crawford, of Georgia.
The caucus was held March i6th, and developed a warm contest; the
result was sixty-five votes for James Monroe, and fifty-four for William
II. Crawford. For Vice President Daniel D. Tompkins received eighty-five
votes as against thirty cast for Simon Snyder, governor of Pennsylvania,
The federalist party selected as candidate Rufus King, who had won consid
erable renown as minister to Kngland. The election, held in the late autumn
of 1816, gave to Monroe and Tompkins one hundred and eighty-three elec
toral votes, as against thirty-four given Rufus King for President. The
electoral vote for Yice President on the federal ticket was divided among
several candidates.

After the election of Mr. Monroe was an assured fact, although the
electoral college had not yet met and announced the result, he received a let
ter from General Andrew Jackson, in which the latter proffered advice rela-

516 JAMES MONROE.,

live to the selection of a cabinet. The following is an extract from the letter:
"Your happiness and the nation's welfare materially depend upon the selec
tions which are to be made to fill the heads of departments. Everything
depends on the selection of your ministry. In every selection, party and
party feelings should be avoided. Now is the time to exterminate that mon
ster called party spirit. By selecting characters most conspicuous for their
probity, virtue, capacity, and firmness, without regard to party, you will go
far to, if not entirely, eradicate those feelings which, on former occasions,
threw so many obstacles in the way of government ; and perhaps have the
pleasure and honor of uniting a people heretofore politically divided. The
chief magistrate of a great and powerful nation should never indulge in
part)7 feelings. His conduct should be liberal and disinterested, always
bearing in mind that he acts for the whole and not a part of the community."
How closely this advice was followed by Jackson himself, when he came to
the presidential chair, future pages will illustrate.

In his reply Mr. Monroe discussed, at some length, the subject of par
ties and appointments, and in the course of his remarks said: "The elec
tion of a successor to Mr. Madison has taken place, and a new administra
tion is to commence its service. The election has been made by the repub
lican party, and of a person known to be devoted to that cause. How shall
he act? How organize the administration? How fill the vacancies existing
at the time? The distinction between republicans and federalists, even in
the southern, and middle, and western states, has not been fully clone away.
To give effect to free government, and secure it from future danger, ought
not its decided friends, who stood firm in the day of trial, to be principally
relied on? Would not the association of any of their opponents in the
administration, itself wound their feelings, or at least of very many of them,
to the injury of the republican cause? Might it not be considered, by the
other party, as an offer of compromise with them, which would lessen the
ignominy due to the counsel which produced the Hartford convention, and
thereby have a tendency to revive that party on its former principles ? My
impression is, that the administration should rest strongly on the republican
party, indulging toward the other a spirit of moderation, and evincing a
desire to discriminate between its members, and to bring the whole into the
republican fold, as quietly as possible. Many men, very distinguished for
their talents, are of opinion that the existence of the federal party is neces
sary to keep union and order in the republican ranks ; that is, that free gov
ernment cannot exist without parties. This is not my opinion. The first
object is to save the cause, which can be done by those who are devoted to
it only, and, of course, by keeping them together ; or, in other words, by
not disgusting them by too hasty an act of liberality to the other party,
thereby breaking that generous spirit of the republican party, and keeping
alive that of the federal party. The second is, to prevent the reorganization

ELECTED PRESIDENT. 517

and revival of the federal party, which, if my hypothesis is true, that the
existence of party is not necessary to a free government, and the other
opinion which I have advanced is well founded, that the great body of the
federal party are republican, will not be found impracticable. To accom
plish both objects, and thereby exterminate all party divisions in our coun
try, and give new strength and stability to our government, is a git at
undertaking, not easily executed. I am, nevertheless, decidedly of opinion
that it may be done ; and should the experiment fail, I shall conclude that
its failure was imputable more to the want of a correct knowledge of all
circumstances claiming attention, and of sound judgment in the measures
adopted, than to any other cause. I agree, I think, perfectly with you, in
the grand object, that moderation should be shown the federal part}', and
even a generous policy adopted toward it; the only difference between us
seems to be, how far shall that spirit be indulged in at the outset; and it is
to make you thoroughly acquainted with my views on this highly important
subject, that I have written you so freely upon it." In this communication
Monroe enunciated in more moderate form the principle afterward given to
the country by William L. Mnrcy, which has since been one of the cardinal
doctrines of the democratic party: "To the victors belong the spoils."

The installation of James Monroe and Daniel D. Tompkins as Presi
dent and Vice President, took pi, ice in Washington, March 4, 1817. An
imposing procession was formed, its head at the house of the President-elect,
who, in company with the Vice President-elect, attended by a large number
of gentlemen on horseback, proceeded to Congress hall, where the cere
monies of inauguration were conducted. The Vice President being first
inducted into his office, the Senate adjourned, and the President-elect, the
Vice President, judges of the supreme court, senators, and representatives,
advanced to «: temporary p >rtic»>, \vherethe President delivered his inaugural
address, after which the oath of office was administered by Chief-justice
Marshall.

As was intimated in his communication to General Jackson, the Presi
dent was guided by party bias in the choice of his advisers. For secretary
of state he selected John Ouincy Adams, of Massachusetts; for secretary
«>f the treasury, William H. Crawford, of Georgia ; for secretary of war,
John C. Calhoun, of South Carolina ; for attorney general, William Wirt,
t»f Virginia. The two last named were appointed in December, 1817, the
former in place of Governor Isaac Shelby, ot Kentucky, who declined the
appointment. Benjamin W. Crowninshield, who had been appointed secre
tary of the navy by Mr. Madison, was continued in office until November
9, 1818, when he was succeeded by Smith Thompson, of New York.
Return J. Meigs, of Ohio, was continued as postmaster-general, which was
not at that time a cabinet office. He retained that office from March 17, 1814,
until June 26, 1823, when he was succeeded by John M'Lean, also from

518 JAMES MONROE.

Ohio. During his two terms as President these were all the changes made
by Mr. Monroe in the cabinet, or heads of department.

From the beginning of his administration President Monroe carried
forward the measures that had been instituted in the latter part of Madison's
administration, looking to the strengthening of the government at home.
First among these was the preparation for defense against foreign invasion.
The recent war with Great Britain had developed the weakness of coast
defenses, and to these attention was first directed. Himself already pos
sessed of considerable military knowledge derived in two wars, the President
supplemented this by practical observation. Immediately after the cere
monies of inauguration were concluded, he turned his attention in this
direction; and an interval of leisure presenting itself, on the 3ist of May,
1817, he entered upon the duty of personally inspecting the coast fortifica
tions to the northeast, and the defenses in the north and northwest.
Departing from the capital he proceeded to Baltimore, thence through the
state of Delaware to Philadelphia and New York. To the northeast he
journeyed, visiting the principal cities and towns in Connecticut, Rhode
Island, and Massachusetts, to Boston. Thence to Concord and the larger
towns in New Hampshire, and through Maine to Portland. Here a
counter course was pursued, westward through Vermont to Pittsburgh,
thence through the forest to the St. Lawrence, where the party took boat
and proceeded to Sackett's Harbor and Fort Niagara ; along the strait to
Buffalo, through Lake Erie to Detroit ; thence south through the terri
tory of Michigan ; through Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland to the capi
tal — in all an absence of three months. In this time he inspected garrisons,
examined fortifications, reviewed troops, and obtained an accurate knowl
edge of the condition of the government works on the sea and lake coast ;
all of which was of great advantage in the eight years of his administration.
Added to this, he met the people of diverse points in the Union, and
acquired a variety of information regarding the capabilities of the country,
the character and surroundings of the people. Since Washington no Presi
dent had made a tour that brought him before the people, and his visits
were confined to the eastern and middle states. Everywhere on his journey
was the President received with enthusiasm ; as he approached towns and
cities delegations of citizens met him, and as he proceeded on his way,
accompanied him toward the next stopping place. Addresses were made
and responded to. Before the New York Society of the Cincinnati, — com
posed of officers who had served in the war of the Revolution, — he said:
"The opportunity which my visit to this city has presented of meeting
the New York Society of the Cincinnati, with many of whom I was well
acquainted in our revolution, affords me heartfelt satisfaction. It is impos
sible to meet any of those patriotic citizens, whose valuable services were so

POPULARITY OF HIS ADMINISTRATION. 519

intimately connected with that great event without recollections which it is
equally just and honorable to cherish."

The prospects of a merging' of parties being alluded to in an address pre
sented by the citizens of Kennebunk, Maine, the President replied ; "You
are pleased to express a confident hope that a spirit of mutual conciliation
may be one of the blessing which may result from my administration.
This, indeed, would be an eminent blessing, and I pray it may be realized.
Nothing but union is wanting to make us a great people. The present
time affords the happiest presage that this union is fast consummating. It
cannot be otherwise ; I daily see greater proofs of it. The further I advance
in my progress in the country, the more 1 perceive that we are all .Ameri
cans — that we compose but one family — that our republican institutions
will be supported and perpetuated by the united zeal and patriotism of all
Nothing could give me greater satisfaction than to behold a perfect union
among ourselves — a union which is necessary to restore to social intercourse
its former charms, and to render our happiness, as a nation, unmixed and
complete. To promote this desirable result requires no compromise of
principles, and I promise to give it my continued attention, and my best
endeavors. "

The first session of the fifteenth Congress opened on the 1st of Decem
ber, 1817, and continued until the 3Qth of April, iSi8. During that time
important legislation was effected ; the duties on licenses to distillers, on
refined sugar, licenses to retailers, sales at auction, on pleasure carriages^
and stamps, were repealed, as recommended by the President in his message.
The compensation for members of both houses of Congress was fixed at
eight dollars per day, and eight dollars for every twenty miles travel ; the
act of March, 1 8 16, establishing the salary of members at fifteen hundred
dollars per year, was repealed. A great measure of relief was afforded the
officers and soldiers of the revolutionary army, by the passage of a pension
act ; two years subsequently this act was amended to apply only to those
in destitute circumstances. Hitherto this measure, — long in contemplation,
— had been delayed by the financial condition of the country, but public
opinion was aroused and sustained the law for the relief of those who had
imperilled their lives for the establishment of independence. An act in
modification of the act of 1807. relative to the importation of slaves, was
passed ; also a law prohibiting filibustering expeditions against the subjects
of any government at peace with the United States. This law was passed
to prevent an invasion of the territory of Mexico, which was then appre
hended. The state of Mississippi was admitted into the Union December
10, 1817 ; and an act passed in the following April, authorizing the people
of the territory of Illinois to form a constitution and organize a state gov
ernment, preparatory to being admitted into the Union. The ports of the
United States were closed to vessels from any colony of Great Britain, the

52O JAMES MONROE.

ports of which were closed to vessels of the United States. An act was
passed establishing the flag of the United States ; and defining it as com
posed of thirteen stripes, of alternate red and white, and that the Union be
represented by one star for each state, the stars to be white in a blue field.
Protection was granted on certain manufactures : copper, cut-glass, Russia
sheetings, iron, nails, and other articles. The duties on manufactured cot
ton and Avoolen goods were continued for a period of seven years. The
tariff of 1816, on the two articles of cotton and woolen goods, had been
fixed at twenty-five per cent, and the minimum value of a square yard of
cotton established at twenty-five cents ; still, vast quantities of manufactured
goods were brought to this country, to the demoralization of manufactur
ing industries and the bankruptcy of those who had engaged in them. The
subject of internal improvements was discussed in Congress at this session,
and developed opposition to governmental supervision of such works.

Serious difficulties arose with Spain in the early part of 1818, caused
by the invasion of the Floridas by General Jackson, in pursuit of Indians,
who had been making warlike incursions into the southern portion of
the United States. In the course of his expedition General Jackson cap
tured and took possession of several Spanish forts, alleging as a reason,
that they had given support and aid to the fleeing Indians, and in no other
manner could a period be put to their depredations. At this time, treaty
negotiations were in progress with Spain, which \vere interrupted by the
invasion of the territory belonging to that government.* By direction of the
President the captured posts were restored to the Spanish authorities. On
the 22cl of February, 1819, a treaty was entered into with Spain, by which
that power ceded to the United States East and West Florida, with all the
islands adjacent, for the sum of five millions of dollars. This treaty covered
the Spanish possessions in the southeast, but left a large territory subject
to Spain in the west and southwest. Not until October, 1820, was this
treaty ratified by the king of Spain. In the meantime Mexico had declared
and accomplished her independence from the dominion of Spain, and the
ratification of the treaty, which called for a definitive settlement of the
question of western boundary, as well as the cession of the Floridas, did
not accomplish all that was expected of it. Eight years later the boundary
line was determined with Mexico. In the discussion of the provisions to
be inserted in the treaty with Spain, that government was prepared to release
a considerable body of territory to the westward of the Mississippi river;
but strenuous objection being made by statesmen in the eastern states, to
any enlargement of the Union in the southwest, it was finally decided to
limit the extension in that direction. While this had an effect in preventing
the extension of slavery in that direction for a term of years, eventually

* See Life of Andrew Jackson.

FIRST ADMINISTRATION. 521

it led to the war with Mexico, which had as its direct object the increase
of slave territory.

In 1818 a treaty convention was concluded by the United States and
Great Britain, relative to the Newfoundland and other fisheries, the north
western boundary line, — between the Lake of the Woods and the Rocky
mountains, — and to the renewal and extension of the treaty of 1815
for the term of ten years ; also for the restoration of slaves taken in the
war of 1812. Although the subject of impressment of seamen was urged
upon the British government, no action was taken on that question. Dur
ing the summer of 1819 the President made a tour through the southern
states, having for its object inspection of military posts and fortifications in
that portion of the Union. In the course of his journey he visited Charles
ton, Savannah, and Augusta, thence through the territory occupied by the
Cherokee nation, to Nashville; thence to Louisville and Lexington; reach
ing Washington on his return in August.

The first term of the Monroe administration was signalized by great
depression in the money market ; business was stagnated, and manufactures
were well nigh suspended. Says Thomas II. Benton in his Thirty Years in
the United States Senate: "The bank of the United States was chartered
in 1816, and before 1820 had performed one of its cycles of delusion and
bubble prosperity, followed by actual and widespread calamity. The whole
paper system, of which it was the head and the citadel, after a vast expan
sion, had suddenly collapsed, spreading desolation over the land, and carry
ing ruin to debtors. The years 1819 and 1820 were a period of gloom and
agony. No money, either gold or silver; no measure or standard of value,
left remaining. The local banks, — all but those of New England, — after a
brief resumption of specie payments, again sank into a state of suspension.
The bank of the United States, created as a remedy for all these evils, now
at the head of the evil, prostrate and helpless, with no power left but that
of suing its debtors, and selling their property, and purchasing for itself
at its own nominal price. No price for property or produce. No sales but
those of the sheriff and the marshal. No purchasers at execution sales but
the creditor, or some hoarder of money. No employment for industry —
no demand for labor — no sale for the product of the farm — no sound of the
hammer, but that of the auctioneer, knocking down property. Stop laws
—property laws — replevin laws — stay laws — loan office laws — the interven
tion of the legislature between the creditor and the debtor; this was the
business of legislation in three-fourths of the states of the Union — of all
south and west of New England. No medium of exchange but depreciated
paper; no change even, but little bits of foul paper, marked so many cents,
and signed by some tradesman, barber, or inn-keeper ; exchanges deranged
to the extent of fifty or one hundred per cent. Distress, the universal cry

$22 JAMES MONROE.

of the people ; relief, the universal demand thundered at the doors of all
legislation, state and federal."

The attention of the government was continually directed to the finan
cial concerns of the country, stability in the currency being deemed the
chief end to be secured. With this in view, sales of government lands
were made, and the proceeds applied to extinguishment of the public debt.
Measures were taken looking to further protection of manufactures. The
demands on the treasury were greatly increased by the passage of the pen
sion law, more than one million of dollars being paid out of the federal
treasury on this one account. The increase of the tariff on foreign produc
tions, while it encouraged home industry, did not increase the revenue
derived from the tax on imports; and the financial matters were in an em
barrassed condition.

Mr. Clay was elected speaker of the sixteenth Congress, which met
December 6, 1819, in which honorable position he had served through sev
eral preceding sessions. On the I4th, Alabama was admitted into the
Union ; and on the I5th of March following, Maine also became a state. Pre
vious to this time Maine had, since the year 1652, been a part of Massa
chusetts. An act was also passed, on the 6th of March, 1820, authorizing
the citizens of Missouri to form a constitution and organize a state govern
ment, preparatory to admission into the Union. An excited debate fol
lowed the proposition to insist, as a condition precedent, that the future
removal or conveyance of slaves into that territory be prohibited. The bill
was finally passed without restriction. The second session of the sixteenth
Congress began November 13, 1820. At the opening of the session Mr.
Clay tendered his resignation, private business of an urgent nature prevent
ing his further serving as speaker of the House. He was succeeded by
John \V. Taylor, of New York. The most important question before
Congress was the admission of Missouri as a state in accordance with the
action of the previous session. At that session Mr. Clay had introduced
a resolution of compromise, by which slavery was to be forever prohibited
in that part of the territory west of the Missouri river and lying north
of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north latitude.

In the early part of the current session the constitution framed by the
citizens of Missouri, was presented to Congress, and was referred to a com
mittee, which reported it to be republican in form; and advised that Mis
souri be admitted into the sisterhood of states. Objection was made to such
disposal of the question, on the ground that the constitution of the state
permitted slavery ; and further, that it contained a provision which would
prove inimical to free persons of color, recognized as citizens in some of the
states. Debate was continued for a week, with great heat on both sides.
A majority of fourteen in the House decided that Missouri could not be
received into the Union under the constitution presented. This vote was

RE-ELECTED PRESIDENT. $23

carried by the northern, eastern, and middle states, all the southern states
voting for admission. In this condition the question rested until the I4th
of February, when came the time for opening and counting the votes of
the electoral college, and declaring the election of a President and Vice
President. Missouri had chosen presidential electors; not being definitely
admitted a state, a question arose as to the propriety of counting her elec
toral vote. It was finally decided that the votes should be counted, and
that the president of the Senate should declare that, if the votes of [Missouri
were counted, A. B. would have so many, and if the votes of Missouri were
not counted, A. B. would have so many : in cither case A. B. is elected.
The same course was followed in counting the votes for Vice President.
Mr, Clay had again resumed his seat in the House, and warmly supported
this resolution. An effort was made by Mr. Randolph to declare that Mis
souri was a state of the Union, but this was not acceded to. On the 26th
of February a resolution was offered by Mr. Clay, from a joint committee
of the two houses, for the admission of [Missouri into the Union, on the
condition that the legislature of the state should assent to the proposition
that nothing in the constitution of the state should ever be construed to the
disadvantage of any citizen of any other state of the United States. This
\vas agreed to in both Mouse and Senate, and the President approving, on
August 10, 1821, Missouri was admitted into the Union. The feeling
of opposition to the extension of slaveiy, and the aggressions of the slave
power, grew from this time forth, and never abated until the proclamation
of emancipation, which went into effect in January, 1863, forever settled
the question of slavery in the United States.

TAMES MONROE.

CHAPTER V.

THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION— ESTIMATE OF HIS ABILITIES— HIS DEATH IN NEW

YORK.

OTHER acts of the sixteenth Congress were the placing of the army on
a peace footing, reducing the force to seven regiments of infantry
and four regiments of artillery, with additional officers for the engineering
and ordnance departments. The appropriation for the navy, which had
amounted, the previous year, to one million dollars, was reduced one-half.
The President was authorized to take proper steps to assume control of the
Floridas, which had been ceded to the United States by treaty, and the
treaty ratified by the Spanish king, and by the United States government.
Several propositions were presented, that were not acceded to ; among oth
ers, that the sedition law of 1798 be repealed, and restitution made of fines
collected through its provisions.

In the early spring of 1820, was held the convention for placing in
nomination candidates for President and Vice President for the four years
beginning March 4, 1821. James Monroe and Daniel D. Tompkins again
received the nomination. The result of the election held in the following
November, was flattering to the administration, evincing a degree of approval
that had been accorded no incumbent of the office since the time of Wash
ington. Mr. Monroe received two hundred and thirty-one electoral votes,
but one vote being cast in opposition. Mr. Tompkins fell fourteen votes
short of unanimous re-election. On Monday, the 5th of March, Mr. Mon
roe was a second time inducted into office, in the presence of a large number
of his fellow-citizens.

The first session of the seventeenth Congress began December 3, 1821,
and closed its labors May 8, 1822. Mr. Clay not being a member of this
Congress, Philip P. Barbour, of Virginia, was chosen speaker of the House.
A territorial government was established for Florida, and laws passed
annulling certain ordinances then in force in the territory. A new appor-

HIS SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 525

tionment law was passed, establishing the ratio of representation at one
representative for each forty thousand inhabitants. The increase of the
protective tariff received strong support, but no legislation was had granting
further relief to manufacturers. The independence of Mexico was recog
nized, as was that of five provinces in South America.

Karly in 1823 President Monroe consulted Mr. Jefferson in relation
to the course best to be followed by the government in the present
r.ttitude of the allied powers of Europe regarding Spain and her provinces.
In reply Mr. Jefferson wrote, under date of June iith: "The matter which
now embroils Europe, the presumption of dictating to an independent
nation the form of its government, is so arrogant, so atrocious, that indig
nation, as well as moral sentiment, enlists all our partialities and prayers in
favor of one, and our equal exertions against the other. I do not know,
indeed, whether all nations do not owe one another a bold and open declara
tion of their sympathies with the one part}', and their detestation of the
conduct of the other. Hut farther than this we are not bound to go; and,
indeed, for the sake of the world, we ought not to increase the jealousies, or
draw on ourselves the power, of this formidable confederacy. I have ever
deemed it fundamental for the United States never to take active part in the
quarrels of Europe." In his opinion all we could do for Spain was to make
"our neutrality as partial as would be justifiable without giving cause of war
to her adversary." England looked with longing eyes at Cuba as the richest
portion of the West Indies, and evidently wished to add this source of
profit to her vast possessions. The United States government was better
satisfied to see things remain as they then were. The inhabitants of Cuba
desired independence; failing to attain that, the next thing to be desired
was annexation to the United States or to Mexico. Not main- months
passed before new interest attached to this question. It was rumored and
believed, in both England and America, that the Holy Alliance now pro
posed direct interference between Spain and her revolted colonies. The
British premier, Mr. Canning, who had heretofore shown no disposition of
respect to the United States, earnestly solicited her assistance in preserving
the integrity of Spain, and promised full support of England. As Mr.
Monroe had before consulted with Mr. Jefferson regarding the question, so
he now laid before him the condition of affairs.

In a letter to his former private secretary, William Short, under date
August 4, 1820, Mr. Jefferson gave utterance to an opinion which expressed
in full the advice he subsequently gave President Monroe. On that occasion
he said : "The day is not distant, when we may formally require a merid
ian of partition through the ocean which separates the two hemispheres, on
the hither side of which no European gun shall ever be heard, nor an
American on the other ; and when during the rage of the eternal wars of
Europe, the lion and the lamb, within our regions, shall lie down together

525 JAMES MONROE.

in peace The principles of society there and here, then, are

radically different, and I hope no American patriot will ever lose sight of
the essential policy of interdicting in the seas and territories of both
Americas, the ferocious and sanguinary contests of Europe." In his reply
to the communication of President Monroe he first asks the question, "Do
we wish to acquire to our own confederacy any one or more of the Spanish
provinces?" and then answers that "this can never be attained, even with
her [Cuba's] own consent, but by war ; and if its independence, which is our
second interest (and especially its independence of England), can be secured
without it, I have no hesitation in abandoning iny first wish to future
chances, and accepting its independence, with peace and the friend-ship of
England, rather than its association, at the expense of war and her enmity.
I could honestly, therefore, join in the declaration proposed, that wre aim
not at the acquisition of any of these possessions, that we will not stand in
the way of any amicable arrangement between them and the mother coun
try ; but that we will oppose, with all our means, the forcible interposition
of any other power as auxiliary, stipendiary, or under any other form or
pretext, and most especially, their transfer to any power by conquest, ces
sion, or acquisition in any other way. I should think it, therefore, advisa
ble, that the Executive should encourage the British government to a con
tinuance in the disposition expressed in the letters, by an assurance of his
concurrence with them as far as his authority goes ; and that as it may lead
to war, the declaration of which requires an act of Congress, the case shall
be laid before them for consideration at their first meeting, and under the
reasonable aspect in which it is seen by himself." Thus the principles that
were a few weeks later promulgated by Monroe were directly suggested by
Jefferson in this communication.

President Monroe's message, giving utterance to the famous " Monroe
doctrine," was published December 2, 1823. It announced that, "We
owe it, therefore, to candor and to the amicable relations existing between
the United States and those powers, to declare that we should consider any
attempt on their part to extend their system to any portion of this hemis
phere, as dangerous to our peace and safety. With existing colonies 01
dependencies of any European power we have not interfered, and shall not
interfere. But with the governments which have declared their independ
ence and maintained it, and wrhose independence we have on great considera
tions and on just principles acknowledged, we could not view any interposi
tion, for the purpose of oppressing them or controlling in any measure their
destiny, by any European power, in any other light than as the manifesta
tion of an unfriendly disposition towards the United States." The principle
here enunciated has since remained one of the cardinal doctrines of the
government, though the ill-advised action of a subsequent secretary of the
state, in the case of the occupation by a British force of certain territory in

HIS SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 527

Nicaragua, had the effect to, in a measure, annul its force, and establish a
precedent in direct opposition to the Monroe doctrine.

In the eighteenth Congress, which convened December I, 1823, again
came up the subject of internal improvements. Mr. Monroe, in a special
message submitted to Congress May 4, 1822, had made an intelligent and
comprehensive review of the subject, expressing an opinion that it was
beyond the powers of Congress. The growth of public opinion in favor of
a system of internal improvements, that would develop the vast resources of
the country, caused him to change his previous views, and authorize the
necessary surveys, plans, ana estimates for such canals and roads as would
prove of national benefit. Congress appropriated the sum of thirty thou
sand dollars for this purpose.

As early as 1822, when yet remained three years of Monroe's sec
ond term as President, the question relative to his successor occupied the
minds of politicians, at Washington and elsewhere. Among the names
proposed as candidates were William H. Crawford, John Ouincy Adams,
Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, and General Andrew Jackson. Events
reduced the number to four. The vote in the electoral college gave Andrew
Jackson ninety-nine, John Ouincy Adams eighty-four, William H. Crawford
forty-one, and Henry Clay thirty-seven. No election resulting, the ques
tion was, under the Constitution, removed to the House of Representatives,
where it was determined in February, 1825, Adams receiving the vote of
thirteen states, General Jackson of seven, and Crawford of four. Retaining
the office until the 3d of March, 1825, Monroe witnessed the inauguration
of his successor, after which he retired to private life.

His administration was eminently prosperous. In the language of Mr.
Adams: "President Monroe strengthened his country for defense, by a sys
tem of combined fortifications, military and naval; sustaining her rights, her
dignity and honor abroad ; soothing her dissensions, and conciliating her
acerbities at home; controlling by a firm, though peaceful poJicy, the hostile
spirit of the European alliance against republican Southern America ;
extorting, by the mild compulsion of reason, the shores of the Pacific
from the stipulated acknowledgment of Spain ; and leading back the imperial
autocrat of the north, to his lawful boundaries, from his hastily-asserted
dominion over the southern ocean. Thus strengthening and consolidating
the federative edifice of his country's union, till he was entitled to say, like
Augustus Cajsar of his imperial city, that he had found her built of brick,
and left her constructed of marble."

Unlike Jefferson and Madison, his predecessors in the presidential chair,
Monroe was not a philosopher or a statesman ; he was more a politician.
Never so fertile in resource as either, he yet seized upon and amplified ideas
that originated in the brains of others, and achieved a popularity in the
dominant party that advanced him from post to post of honor until he

528 JAMES MONROE.

reached the height of ambition. Though essentially at the head of the party,
he was not a formillator of principles, but had the faculty of adapting and
improving upon the formulas of others until they were accepted as his own.
Never brilliant in expedient, he was yet persevering in the line of conduct
he deemed best adapted to secure a desired end. As a foreign minister he
was mainly guided by instructions from government; sometimes too liter
ally construing these and bringing upon himself condemnation, as was the
case when minister to France in 1794-96. Again was 'this true when he,
in conjunction with William Pinkney, negotiated a treaty of commerce with
England, so obviously at variance with any spirit of justice to his own
country that President Jefferson returned it, with instructions that it be
amended or the subject indefinitely postponed. This occurrence immediately
followed the treaty with France by which was acquired the territory of
Louisiana, and the ownership of the Mississippi river — of the greatest
importance to the United States — the credit for which negotiation belonged
to Robert R. Livingston, resident minister to France, rather than to Mr.
Monroe.

While Jefferson and Madison were not averse to high official honors,
Monroe left unturned no stone that would help to insure success. The
nomination of Mr. Madison in 1808, as candidate for President, wounded
him deeply, and called from him several exceedingly sharp letters to Mr.
Jefferson, who he conceived to be in a measure responsible for his failure
to secure the nomination. It has already been shown that the measure since
known as the "Monroe doctrine," was directly proposed to him by Mr.
Jefferson; which bears out the assertion that he was not a formulator of
doctrine, but instead, followed where others led. All in all, Mr. Monroe
was^more a politician than a statesman; more a military man than either.
His early life was spent in the camp and on the field, and had events given
opportunity he might have achieved renown as a soldier, though it is prob
able he would never have attained to the high place he reached in civic
honors.

He was an honest and an honorable man, and as chief magistrate com
manded the respect of men of all parties. Though in the course of his life
he received from the treasury of the United States, for his public services,
the sum of three hundred and fifty-eight thousand dollars, he was largely in
debt on his retirement from office. This was in part due to the fact that
when secretary of state during the war of 1812, he pledged his private
credit to the support of government in preparing for the defense of New
Orleans, for which sum he had not as yet been reimbursed. He was finally
relieved by an act of Congress, which adjusted his claims.

At the close of his presidential career Mr. Monroe retired to his resi
dence in Loudoun county, Virginia, where he was soon after appointed a
county magistrate, which office he retained until his departure for New

ESTIMATE OF HIS ABILITIES — DEATH.

York. In 1817 he was associated with Jefferson and Madison, on the board
sf visitors of the Central college, of Virginia, afterwards incorporated into
the University of Virginia, of which he became curator some years after
his retirement. In 1830 he was elected member of the convention called to
revise the constitution of the state, and on the declination of the chair by
Mr. Madison, was chosen president of the convention. Illness, however,
prevented his remaining throughout the subsequent deliberations, and he
was compelled to retire to his residence.

Little is known concerning the wife of Mr. Monroe, or the antecedents
of her family. That her name was Eliza Kortright, and her father a cap
tain in the British service, who settled in New York soon after the close of
the revolution, is known. It is supposed Mr. Monroe met her in society
when himself a member of the Congress which assembled in New York.
In 1786, he addressed a letter to his friend, James Madison, in which he
said: " If you visit this place shortly, I will present you to a young lady
who will be adopted by a citizen of Virginia in the course of this week."
This communication was dated February iith, and it is evident the}* were
married within a few days thereafter. No record of the date is in existence
in the families of any of his descendants. Mrs. Monroe accompanied her
husband on his several journeys to Europe, and there remained during his
protracted residence abroad. Soon after his marriage he purchased a home
in Loudoun count}', Virginia, where his family resided during the years he
spent in the cabinet of President Madison, and from which he went to his
own inauguration as President. In the executive mansion Mrs. Monroe
was surrounded by admirers ; though not educated to the etiquette of the
court, her residence in Europe and frequent attendance at court in France,
England and Spain, had given her self-poise and a certain stateliness that
well became the mistress of the White House. Her death occurred at
Oak Hill, in 1830. Soon thereafter Mr. Monroe went to New York and
passed the remainder of his life with his youngest daughter, who had
become the wife of Samuel L. Gouverneur, where, on the 4th day of July,
1831, he died. The elder of his two children married George Hay, of
Richmond, and for many years resided in that city.

In personal appearance Mr. Monroe was tall and well-formed, being
over six feet in stature, with light complexion and blue eyes. He possessed
no striking intellectual characteristics, but exhibited an honesty of purpose
that could not fail to win the admiration and respect of all who personally
knew him. Slow of thought and unimaginative, he yet in a measure com
pensated for this lack by diligence and industry. He was a close student,
but lacked the purpose of Jefferson and Madison, his early and life-long
associates. He was, however, a thorough Virginian, possessed of much old-
school courtliness of manner, generous to his friends, and devoted to his
country.

53O JAMES MONROE.

In any consideration of the administration or life of James Monroe, one
must of neo^r/sity put to the front as the great distinctive feature of the
former, and the one which is sure to be quoted in all discussions bearing
thereon, the doctrine that he put forward and maintained with such patri
otic vigor — the doctrine that in its legitimate conclusions makes our Nation
the friend and defender of the weaker republics lying almost under the
natural protection of our flag. "The Monroe doctrine," as one able
writer has fittingly said, "properly considered, is not a mere solitary
axiom of diplomacy, of disputable meaning, of uncertain application, or
of no valid authority. On the contrary, it represents a comprehensive
system of policy, both consistent and of profound wisdom, including the
whole conduct of our government toward the new republics of Spanish
America, from their first efforts at independence until their full nation
ality obtained the recognition of Europe. Theoretically it is a great
'System of Doctrine,' arising out of the nature of our institutions, regu
lating our relations both with Europe and America, and essential to the
permanency of our National character and independence. Of this sys-
temized foreign policy Mr. Monroe was undoubtedly the father. It was
settled during his administration, and it is certain that he was the actual
President of the United States, and himself administered the executive
government, employing his secretaries as responsible advisers and execu
tive agents. Mr. Monroe would naturally keep the control of our foreign
intercourse in his own hand, because he understood that subject better than
anyone else. From the time when, a young man in the old congress, he had
baffled the Spanish Encargado and vindicated the free navigation of the
Mississippi, foreign relations had been his specialty, and he had been
looked to as a chief counselor and manager in these affairs by Washington,
Jefferson and Madison. The suggestion so often put forth, that Mr.
Adams was tie author of the Monroe doctrine, is without the slightest
warrant, and is unjust to both Adams and Monroe. Mr. Adams was the
most accomplished scholar in diplomacy ; but in profoundness of insight
and soundness of judgment as to what concerned the National honor and
independence, Mr. Monroe was the greater statesman, and impartial his
tory must give him the credit of the masterly policy which steered the
government through the difficulties growing out of the Spanish-American
revolution, ar?<l made the United States a dictator to Europe in regard to
the western Continent. The Monroe doctrine, considered thus as a symbol
or exponent of the system adopted by Mr. Monroe in relation to the
Spanish- A vnerican states, may be characterized as a system of duty which
is moraUy right, politically wise, and logically consistent. Thus viewed,
it maybe taken as a testimony that this Nation will do right; that the
political system of Europe is incompatible with that of America ; that we
will do what we can to lead Europe to a better system and to bring

HIS SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 53!

diplomacy under the Higher Law; that \ve consider the whole of this con
tinent appropriated, and that we will hold any attempted intervention
of European powers for the sake of controlling affairs in America an in
jury to ourselves, which we shall resent or resist as we think proper. This
system of doctrine is substantially identical with the immortal policy of
Washington, as exhibited in his proclamation of neutrality — the sublimest
act of his government — and laid down so explicitly in his farewell address,
in words of almost superhuman wisdom: 'Europe has a set of primacy
which to us have none or a very remote relation. Hence she must be en
gaged in frequent controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign
to our concerns. Hence, therefore, it must be unwise in us to implicate our
selves by artificial ties in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics, or the
ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities. Our
detached and distant situation invites and enables us to preserve a differ
ent course. If we remain one people, under an efficient government, the
period is not far off when we may defy material injury from external an
noyance; when we may take such an attitude as will cause the neutrality
we may at any time resolve upon to be scrupulously respected; when
belligerent nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon
us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provocation ; when we may choose
peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice, shall counsel. Why
forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation ? Why quit our own, to
stand upon foreign ground? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that
of any part of Europe, entangle our prosperity in the toils of European
ambition, rivalry, interest, humor or caprice ?'

' ' It comprises, in substance, also the principle of non-intervention, which
the liberals of continental Europe long for, and which Kossuth argued for
so effectively in this country. It is not, however, a namby-pamby senti-
mentalism of non-intervention, which idly weeps for the sufferings of the
oppressed, but lifts neither hand nor voice for their deliverance. It is not
the cold selfishness of Cain, when he whined out, 'Am I my brother's
keeper?' It is not the cowardice of imbecility which shrinks from speak
ing the truth, or doing what is right through base and servile fear of loss.
It is intervention withstood manfully and prevented energetically. In
proper circumstances it bids the oppressor, 'Hold!' and if that is in
effectual, boldly takes him by the throat and hurls him back from his vic
tims. It means that we will not submit to wrong toward ourselves, and
when duty calls we will censure and even resent a wrong done to others.
It includes what Kossuth termed 'Intervention for non-intervention.'
The closing declaration by President Monroe produced an effect upon
Europe which it is impossible for the present generation to realize. That
whole continent was then firmly united in one political system, devised by
the highest human sagacity, fortified by the most solemn compacts, and

532 JAMES MONROE.

sustained by veteran armies, and all actuated by a common conviction
that the one grand political danger of the civilized world was in the spread
of liberal principles, of which the United States were the source and the
seed-bed. And while they were actually negotiating among themselves for
the commencement of operations that it was expected would cripple and
ultimately crush us, behold ! they are suddenly confronted by the young
Republic looking all Europe boldly in the face and crying ' Hands off, ruf
fians! ' And they very prudently kept hands off for forty years.

"Mr. Monroe's administration maybe deemed to have culminated in
the utterance of the great declaration. Its boldness fairly stunned the
holy alliance, and by taking from that huge conspiracy its prestige of
irresistibleness, took it down from the height of its arrogance, and was the
first blow toward its dissolution. The last year of his term was rendered
unhappy by personal divisions among the members of his cabinet, three
out of the four being eager candidates for the next succession, in addition
to his favorite speaker of the house and the most distinguished general
whom he had promoted."

Mr. Adams speaks in the highest terms of Mr. Monroe's character and
history, and eulogizes his whole career as characteristic "of a mind
anxious and unwearied in the pursuit of truth and right; patient of in
quiry, patient of contradiction, courteous, even in the collision of senti
ment; sound in its ultimate judgments, and firm in its final conclusions."
Referring to his course while President, he makes use of the following
strong and complimentary terms: "There behold him for a term of eight
years, strengthening his country for defense by a system of combined
fortifications, military and naval ; sustaining her rights, her dignity and
honor abroad; soothing her dissensions and conciliating her acerbities at
home; controlling by a firm, though peaceful policy the hostile spirit of
the European alliance against republican southern America ; extorting by
the mild compulsion of reason the shores of the Pacific from the stipulated
acknowledgment of Spain, and leading back the imperial autocrat of the
north to his lawful boundaries from his hastily asserted dominion over the
southern ocean, thus strengthening and consolidating the federative edifice
of his country's union, till he was entitled to say, like Augustus Caesar,
of his imperial city, that he had found her built of brick and left her con,
structed of marble."

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY LIFE - ENTRANCE UPON A PUBLIC CAREER.

OHN QUINCY ADAMS was born at Braintree, (now Quincy), Mas
sachusetts, some ten miles from Boston, July 11, 1767. His father
+J was John Adams, and his mother, Abigail Smith. He was fourth in
descent from Henry Adams, who emigrated from England in 1640, and set
tled at Braintree, where he had a grant of forty acres of land. Adams was
named after a grandfather of his mother, John Quincy, a man of more
than local reputation among the primitive settlements of Massachusetts col
ony. A deep affection existed between him and his granddaughter, and her
son being born while the old man was dying, she insisted on perpetuating
the name, with the hope that the second John Quincy would inherit the
sterling integrity and sound judgment that made his namesake conspicuous.
In the lists of the pioneers of Massachusetts, both the Adamses and the
Quincys stand without the significant " Mr. " marking the patricians. The
Quincys ranked socially above the Adamses, as did also the Smiths, with
the advantage derived from the Quincy alliance.

The younger Adams must have had but a gleam of childhood and
youth. Before he was ten he wrote grand letters of self-reproof, for his
conscious short-comings. At eleven he wanted a blank book, in which to
begin a diary, and he actually made the first entry when he was twelve.
The work, however, had a longer infancy than its famous author. His father
was appointed commissioner to France, and sailed for that kingdom in Feb
ruary, I//S, taking with him his son, then in his eleventh year. The pas
sage, made in the old Boston frigate, was tempestuous and protracted.

533

534 JOHN QUIXCY ADAMS.

and the land journey rapid and fatiguing. He enjoyed many months of
school near Paris, and returned home with his father during the following
year, in a French frigate, which brought the ambassador, Chevalier Luzerne
and his suite, to the new republic. He is said to have made himself useful
and interesting to the diplomats, to whom he gave needed lessons in the Eng
lish tongue, the Frenchmen laughingly complaining of the exacting nature
of his lessons.

Three months and a half at home, when the same ship bore him with
his father, on a second mission to the court of Loi'.is XVI. He arrived in
Paris in February, 1780, then in his thirteenth year of age. During this
second visit, he was at school near Paris, accompanied his father to Holland,
had some months of school in Amsterdam, and was then placed in the
University of Leyden. During these months he associated much with the
prominent men about his father, and saw much of the European world and
life. In perfect health, good natured and cheerful, acute and observing, all
his opportunities were improved. He was not yet fourteen when he entered
upon his first diplomatic employment. Francis Dana, afterward chief jus
tice of Massachusetts, and father of R. H. Dana, the poet, at that time sec
retary to the American commission, was commissioned minister to Russia,
and appointed young Adams his secretary of legation. Nothing came of
the mission, as the minister did not obtain recognition. The youth
remained connected with the legation more than a year, acquitting himself
with credit, and then alone made a leisurely journey, of many months, from
St. Petersburg through Sweden and Denmark, visiting Hamburg, Bremen,
and other cities. When he rejoined his father he found him with Franklin and
Jefferson, negotiating the treaty of peace of October, 1783, which ended the
war. After his arrival, he was enlisted as a secretary, and had a hand in pre
paring the papers by which Great Britain conceded the independence of the
United States. After the signing of the treaty he attended his father on his
first visit to England, and returned writh him to Paris. Meantime his
mother and the rest of the family went to Europe, and together they spent
the year 1784 in Paris.

In April, 1785, arrived the French packet, Lc Courier dc I Orient, with
the news of the appointment of John Adams minister to the court of St.
James. John Quincy was then nearly eighteen, mature for his years, and
had reached a point in his career where he decided its future course. To be
secretary of legation, reside in London, continue in the rich, full tide of old
world life, would have been too alluring to any other young man of that or
this time ; and might have been the wiser thing to do. The glitter of the
position had little effect on the Puritan nature of the young man. Austerely
he turned his back upon it, accompanied the family to London, saw them
established, and sailed away alone to the thin and comparatively meager
life of the New England metropolis.

ENTRANCE UPON A PUBLIC CAREER. 53^

He entered the junior class of Harvard in 1786, and graduated in
1787, as the last authority is. He was predetermined to the law, and
there being no law school, he entered the office of Thcophilus Parsons, at
Newburyport, afterward a famous chief justice, where he remained three
years, and was admitted to the bar in 1790, being then twenty-three years
of age. His father was admitted at the same age. He opened an office in
Boston, and sat down to endure the anxious solitude, that always docs its
best to overwhelm the young lawyer, compelled to await the approach of
clients, who, in his case, showed no unbecoming eagerness to interrupt it.
He was not one to attract. He had strong will and industry, and began
slowly and certainly to make his way.

Meantime his thought and hand were in other work. Thomas Paine's
Rights of Man appeared in 1791, and attracted much attention in this coun
try and in England. The work was assailed by young Adams in a series of
papers, signed Publicola, which also attracted attention in both countries,
and were ascribed to his father, one of the most vigorous writers of that
day. He also reviewed the course of the French minister, Genet, in this
country, in newspaper articles of much vigor, and, in a third set, sustained
the course of Washington's administration in maintaining the neutrality of
the republic in the European wars. Although all these productions were
given with fictitious signatures, the young writer became known, and
attracted the attention of the President, who on the 29th of May, 1/94,
nominated him minister resilient at the Hague, in which office he was unani
mously confirmed the next day. lie was then in his twenty-seventh year.
The appointment was a great relief to him. Passages of his diary of a pre
ceding date, show him chafing under enforced idleness and obscurity. He
was one of the most ambitious of men.

After a voyage of much peril in a leaky ship, he reached the Hague on
the last day of October. Those were the ilays of the uprising and arming
of the French people against their neighbors. All Europe was arming; at
the first, to subdue them, finally, in self defense. Holland was a republic,
her chief the stndtholiler. Scarcely had the young minister presented his
credentials, when the stadtholder was obliged to flee. Pichegrue, who
overrun Holland in ten days, came marching into the capital, brought out
the tri-colored flag of blood and conquest, and established the Batavian
republic. There was a flight of the diplomats. Mr. Adams was inclined to
go also ; though not for reasons which controlled the rest. He was cordially
treated by the French'and their native allies, and nothing but his shrewdness
and prudence, saved him from the entanglements of their dangerous
favor. In the changed condition of the country he was left without
employment, — a condition most irksome to him ; and he thought he ought to
return home. Washington, whose entire confidence he had gained, directed
him to stay at his post, telling him he would soon be at the head of the

JOHN QL'IXCY ADAMS.

diplomatic service of his country. He remained, a close and shrewd
observer of men and things, reading and studying European politics, men,
and histories, and extending his personal acquaintance with all the leading
personages, to whom his position gave him access. He had little business
to transact, and was thus master of his own time, a commodity he never
squandered.

In 1795 he was directed to proceed to London and exchange ratifica
tions of the famous and largely odious Jay treaty. Though a series of vex
atious delays prevented his performance of this mission, it led to the nego
tiation of a treaty more important to him, and not without significance to
his country. In 1797, while at Nantes, awaiting an opportunity to embark
for America, the Adamses, father and son, made the acquaintance of an
American merchant of that city — Joshua Johnson. He was a Marylander
— a brother of Thomas Johnson, of that state ; a signer of the declaration ;
governor of Maryland, and later one of the judges of the supreme court of
the United States. Joshua Johnson had a young daughter, Louisa Cath
arine, and the young boy and girl there became acquainted. On this visit to
London, the young diplomat found Joshua Johnson the American consul
of that capital. He found Miss Louisa Catharine, a mature and most
accomplished young lady of rare personal attraction. A lack of ardor of
temperament was not a defect in the character of the young man, and an
attachment grew up between the young people, which led to their mar
riage in July 26, 1797, when he was thirty years old. This was one
of the Adams' fortunate and happy marriages. Preceding this event, and
near the close of his administration Washington transferred Mr. Adams
from the Hague to Portugal. Meantime the people had elected the senior
Adams, President. To the young man this was a source of perplexing
embarrassment, as was the position of the son also to the father. That
the advancement of the father should work disadvantage to the son, would
be unjust, and a charge of nepotism was also to be avoided. In this dilemma,
Washington came to the aid of both, and in a written communication
declared to the elder that his son was the ablest man in the foreign service,
had earned promotion and was entitled to receive it. The voice of Wash
ington in or out of the capital, had equal potency, and the destiny of the
son was changed from Lisbon to Berlin, w^here he arrived with his bride in
November, 1797. At the gates of the city a lieutenant questioned his right
of entrance. Mr. Adams tried to explain, and told the officer who and
what he was. The lieutenant had never heard of America ; a private of
the guard had, and the representative of the west was permitted to enter,
and in due time make his bow to Frederick William II., nephew of the
great Frederick. There was as little to do in Berlin as at the Hague. Mr.
Adams negotiated a treaty of commerce, \vith a power with which it was
impossible to trade, and another with Sweden, which was of more advantage,

ENTRANT UPON A PUBLIC CAREER. 537

One of the last acts of President Adams was to recall his son, so that
Mr. Jefferson might not be embarrassed, and the son be saved from the
hand of the family foe, as Mr. Jefferson was then considered. With all our
knowledge and experience of the excitement and commotion produced by
political party strife, and the hatreds and animosities often arising among
the leaders of the same party, it is very difficult to reproduce the condition
of men and parties as they existed when Mr. Adams returned. The
federal party, devoted to consolidating and putting in working order the
feeble machinery of the Constitution, and carrying it forward until its power
to accomplish most of the specified purposes of its creation was demon
strated ; had shown itself incapable of acquiring the new ideas and adopting
a policy needed for a further advance. Bitterly as it was hated by the
national republicans, the hatred of many of the leading federalists for Presi
dent Adams was more intense. This was if possible more than reciprocated
by him. No great man in our history ever fell so hopelessly and help
lessly from power as did he, on the loss of the presidency. It is said that
he drove away from the capital in " a wild rage," on the night of March 3,
1 80 1, to avoid the pageant of his rival's inauguration the next day. Mr.
Hamilton thought himself aggrieved. He published a pamphlet against the
President, and while he ostensibly supported his re-election, he would have
been very willing to see him fall behind C. C. Pinckney, and so, in the
event of success, descend to the position of Vice President. The Presi
dent's appointment of the mission to France among his latest acts, with
out consulting his cabinet, and after he had declared he would not, was
the immediate cause of the disruption of his party. It led to a dismissal
of his cabinet, and though undoubtedly of great benefit to his country, it
contributed largely to his own downfall. There were old causes of enmity
between him and Pickering, whom he hated with an intensity second to his
hatred of Hamilton ; the latter he always charged with his defeat in the can
vass of 1800.

The leading federalists of Massachusetts were Hamilton's friends, and
although the younger Adams was no way personally connected with the
causes which produced the unhappy state of things existing in the country,
he naturally regarded himself as of his father's faction, and was so held
by friends and enemies, of all parties. The feeling of Mr. Jefferson
toward the son personally, is shown by his prompt removal from the posi
tion of commissioner in bankruptcy, to which, since his return, he had been
appointed by the United States district court of Massachusetts. He at
once opened a law office, and addressed himself vigorously to the half for
gotten texts of Coke and Fearne. At the April election of 1802, the fed
eralists of Boston elected him a senator, in the state legislature. The posi
tion was one then sought by prominent men, and opened the door to
political life, for which he was undoubtedly born with a predilection.

538 JOHN QUIXCY ADAMS.

CHAPTER II.

ELECTED SENATOR— ACCEPTS A FOREIGN APPOINTMENT.

IN February, 1803, came on an election for United States senator, when
he was chosen on the fourth ballot, receiving eighty-six votes out of
one hundred and seventy-one. This was certainly very handsome on the
part of the anti-Adams wing, when it is remembered that Timothy Picker
ing eagerly sought the place ; an old man of strong claims, for lifelong ser
vice, eminent ability, and friendship for Hamilton. In October, 1803, the
senator-elect made his way to the grim mud beleaguered village by the
yellow Potomac, bearing the name of the father of his country. Those
familiar with the capital of to-day, even with the aid of his diary and the
letters to his mother, are unable to form any conception of its abject mean
ness and squalor. Here he was to appreciate, perhaps for the first time,
the bitterness and strength of the hatred borne his father by nearly all men
in public life ; and that these were glad to find in the son an object upon
which it might spend itself. Social considerations restrained it in Massachu
setts ; Washington presented an unobstructed field. He was game for the
republicans, and the federalists expended on him the rancor so powerless
against the majority. In this uncongenial atmosphere he attempted to
speak little ; that little pleased no one. He attempted to do little ; that
little invariably failed. The only effect his advocacy had upon any measure,
was to insure its defeat, though in some instances it was afterward car
ried. There was at the first no comradeship between him and any of
his fellow senators. Soon after his advent in the senate, Mr. Pickering also
secured a seat there, which certainly did not add comfort to Adams'
position. Though never possessing large tact, he was cool, courageous, firm,
industrious ; and began slowly to gain upon the esteem and good will of his
fellows, until he finally forced his way to a position of importance and
prominence. The hard work on committees he cheerfully undertook and
faithfully performed. The first important matter to be passed upon was

ELECTED SENATOR. 539

the acquisition of Louisiana, which was bitterly opposed by the federalists.
The question of section as a'matter of weight and power was involved. No
one in public life then discussed the moral aspects of slavery. Mr. Adams was
ahtays in favor of the acquisition of land, and advocated the purchase and
treaty, though denying some of the constitutional propositions involved. In
the grave matter of the impeachment of the ill-tempered, ill-mannered Judge
Chase, he was enabled to vote with his party friends for an acquittal.

The period of Mr. Adams' service in the Senate covered some years of
the sad history of the part France and England were permitted to play in
the affairs of the republic. Generally the republicans held with France,—
would have shaped the national policy to favor her. The federalists sided
with her great rival. Their position, as a party, in opposition to the admin
istration, logically made them the allies of Great Britain. For four years
Mr. Adams was able to act mainly with his part}'. Questions arose on
which he was obliged to sever from them. Under Washington we barely
escaped alliance with France; under Adams we were nearly precipitated
into a war with her. In Mr. Jefferson's second term France was evidently
in the ascendant in American councils in the mortal struggle with her old
enemy. Certainly the French part}", in the United States, was in posses
sion of every branch of the national government. The war which it finally
declared, in 1812, against Great Britain, was, on the whole, disastrous.
What would it have been in 1806? The naval supremacy of that power
enabled her to enforce new and unjust restrictions upon the rights of neu
tral ships, aimed at the swelling commerce of the United States, which was
almost the only neutral power. Mr. Adams was by nature a warrior. His
pride would never permit him to submit to insult, much less to wrong. In
February, 1806, he brought forward his resolutions condemnatory of the
unjust measures of Great Britain, which were passed by the republicans.
Curiously enough, the federalists, whose ships England captured, were less
incensed against her than the}' were against France, charging the latter
with being the real cause of their losses. The non-importation act of April
following, aimed directly at England, was also supported by him, in the
face of the fierce opposition of the federalists. Britain retorted by declar
ing the whole coast of Europe blockaded. This blow, of course, was
directed at Napoleon, who, in reply, declared the British islands to be under
blockade. The English then forbade all trade, by neutrals, with any of her
enemies, and followed, a few months later, with the famous order in council,
declaring any neutral vessel bound to any port closed tg her, liable to cap
ture. To this Napoleon replied with his famous Milan decree, that city
then being his headquarters. This put the ships and commerce of the
United States substantially in the position they would have occupied had
both Great Britain and France declared war against the United States. Inci
dent to an enforcement of these British orders, was the right of search

54O JOHN OUIXCY ADAMS.

During all these years England had habitually searched American vessels
for her sailors, and impressed many American-born seamen, and compelled
them to serve on her war-ships. Whoever studies the history of these years
of abasement, will feel that a disastrous war was preferable to submission.
Then followed the affair of the ill-fated Chesapeake, in Hampton Roads. An
American frigate, after a feeble resistance, surrendered to a British fifty-gun
ship, the Leopard. There were killed three, and wounded sixteen of her
crew; four sailors were impressed. These were carried to Halifax. One
was hanged for desertion, one died in prison, and, five years later, two were
returned to the Chesapeake, in Boston harbor. Berkeley, the commander of
the Leopard, received the usual English punishment for such outrage — he
was promoted. This affair fully aroused the fiery Adams spirit, and in the
public meetings of republicans, and of the more tardy federalists, John
Quincy Adams denounced it and the aggressors in becoming terms.

Jefferson was not the man for the troublous times in which he was
called upon to serve. His philosophy, his idylic policy, his flotillas of gun
boats, known by their numbers, were far short of the demands of the occa
sion. They were the diversion of his enemies, and receive little respect
from history. The non-importation act failed ; aggressions increased.

At the extra session of October, 1807, the administration brought for
ward its proposed embargo, forbidding American ships leaving the home
ports after a certain day. Whatever may now be thought of the wisdom of
this measure, it was a manly and spirited blow — a war measure. Mr. Adams
not only voted for it, but was on the committee that reported it. This
was the end of all possible connection betwreen him and the federalists.
They came about him like a pack of infuriated wolves. They were learned
and ingenious in the arts of detraction, denunciation, and abuse; and
exhausted their ability and resources upon him. Mr. Pickering wrote a
denunciatory letter to the governor of Massachusetts, which he asked to
have laid before the legislature. Adams was charged with supporting the
measure for the purpose of securing a re-election to the Senate. Following
the usage of the state, the election would be made by the legislature next
after the passage of the obnoxious act. At the time of Mr. Adams'
offense, the federalists were a majority in that body. Mr. Adams' time
was to expire after the election of a new legislature. His enemies precipi
tated the election, and made choice of one Lloyd, of Boston, to succeed
him, the senate voting twenty-one for Lloyd to seventeen for Adams;
and the house two hundred and forty-eight to two hundred and thirteen.
Though he had a year of unexpired term, Mr. Adams at once resigned —
an example of pride and spirit, lost on these later times and generations of
mere place holders. To Mr. Pickering's letter, though withheld from the
legislature, Mr. Adams replied in an able expose of the whole situation, and
charged the Hamiltonians, the leaders of which constituted the

ACCEPTS A FOREIGN APPOINTMENT. 54!

famous "Essex junto," with laboring to reduce the republic to a condition
of colonial vassalage to England.

However mistaken in some of their measures, the republicans were
then the party of the country, and the place of the young Adams was with
them, and he took it, leaving a moribund party, to a fate it was only worthy.
It ir- base gratuitously to ascribe noble actions to unworthy motives.

He was again a private citizen, and turned his attention to the law.
He was already professor of rhetoric at Harvard; a course of his lectures
was published, but have no interest here. The winter following his resig
nation he visited Washington, where, in an interview with President Jeffer
son, he made a charge of treasonable designs against some of the federalist
leaders — charges repeated by him in an elaborate review of the now for
gotten works of the forgotten Fisher Ames, published in the Boston Patriot.
Tlvi proof of the charge was never very satisfactory. The charge was
huitful to the men — its memory was revived later.

In July, 1808, the republicans of his congressional district tendered
him a nomination for the House of Representatives; he declined it.
Among his reasons was a wish not to endanger the success of his friend
Joeiah Quincy, federalist though he was.

As early as 1805, when his general adherence to the federal party was
firm, he was approached with the offer of a foreign mission, which he did
net favor. In March, 1809, President Madison sent his name to the Senate
as minister to Russia, where the United States had never had a represen
tative, although the Emperor Alexander had expressed a wish to exchange
ministers with the United States. The Senate met it with a "resolve that
it was inexpedient." On the 26th of June following, the nomination was
renewed, with a message. It was at once confirmed by a vote of nineteen
to seven. \Ye are told that the elder Adams looked upon this mission as
an exile of his son, brought about by the Virginia republican leaders,
who wished the absence of a dangerous rival. That the thought of going
out of the country was not unpleasant to the son is apparent. Pending his
going he was nominated and confirmed a justice of the supreme court
of the United States, which, against the earnest wish of his father, he
declined. Undoubtedly his going was the part of wisdom.

August 5, 1809, Mr. Adams embarked on his last voyage to Europe,
for an absence of eight years. Like most of the enterprises of Mr. Adams
the voyage was stormy and dangerous. He reached St. Petersburg Octo
ber 23d, following.

In Europe the year 1809 saw Wellesley making head against Napoleon's
generals in Spain, Napoleon himself being in the ascendant everywhere
else. He had that year fought the battles of Eckmuhl, Aspern, and
Essling; had annexed the Papal dominions, and held the pope a virtual pris-

542 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

oner in Paris ; was in alliance with Alexander, and meditating the divorce
of Josephine.

Adams was received with marked kindness at St. Petersburg, where he
became quite a favorite both with the emperor and his foreign minister,
Romanzof. There was a series of court presentations, balls, fetes, dinners,
and much in the way of social gayety and pageant. Everywhere Mr.
Adams was a welcome guest. Though not distinguished for personal grace,
and social tact, he was an admirable American minister. Educated in
Europe, speaking all the court languages, having had much association with
distinguished men there, plain, simple, dignified, prudent, sincere, well
informed, few Americans were so well equipped to fill, successfully, the role
of minister. Officially there could be little for him to do. Americans had
little intercourse with the Russians, and they could do little for us of good
or ill. Alexander was very kind to Americans, and beyond watching the
wrangles of the other diplomats for precedence at court, our minister had
little on his hands but to cultivate the amiable temper and disposition of the
czar. Meantime the mighty struggles provoked and carried on by Napoleon
more and more astonished the civilized world, and spread terror through
Europe. The two emperors quarreled. Alexander again armed, this time
in the defense of his empire. Napoleon came, overthrew the Russian
armies, captured Moscow — the "holy city" — sat on the throne of the
Romanofs, was burnt out, frozen out, and fled, only not a fugitive, toward
his own distant France, across a country that arose in arms against him. At
St. Petersburg Mr. Adams saw the terror and anxiety of the Russians at the
invader's approach ; their doubt and uncertainty ere the tide turned, and
witnessed their triumph and exultation as it rolled from them and died
away in the distance. Meantime the chronic troubles of all the later years,
between the United States and Great Britain, resulted in war, declared by
the American Congress. In the early part of it, the Emperor Alexander, at
Mr. Adams' request, offered his good services as mediator between the bel
ligerents. The United States, acting upon his intercession, dispatched
Messrs. Gallatin and Bayard to act as commissioners with Mr. Adams, to
negotiate a treaty of peace. They proceeded at once to the Russian
capital. The intercession was rejected by Great Britain, the United States
placed in an unpleasant position, and her commissioners in a very awk
ward one. However, a period was soon reached in the hostilities, where
neither party cared further to wage the war.

England really had nothing to gain by the continuance of the war.
Her fighting blood had been at white heat during the years of her gigantic
struggle with Napoleon. She was used to war, but her people were in a
condition of half barbarism and destitution in consequence. America was
distant, and the war expensive. Great Britain now proposed to send
commissioners to Gottingen, there to meet commissioners from the United

FOREIGN SERVICE. 543

States. The place was changed to Ghent, and the United States renewed
the powers of Messrs. Adams, Bayard, and Gallatin, added Henry Clay, and
Jonathan Russell, our minister to Sweden. Great Britain appointed Lord
Gambier, a wrong headed old admiral ; Dr. Adams, a writer upon public
law ; and Mr. Goulborn, an under secretary of state. The commission
ers assembled at Ghent August 7, 1814. Four months of wrangling disputa
tion, of ill blood, argument, propositions and counter propositions, followed
ere the work was accomplished. If the Englishmen were pugnacious, over
bearing, and at times insufferable, the Americans were as discordant a band
as ever undertook to secure peace for a bleeding country. Certainly peace
never was evolved of eight more incongruous men. A strong and graphic
account of the whole is found in Mr. Adams' diary, with life-like, but not
flattering, pictures of his associates and opponents. From his nature he
could have few friends ; his manner and temperament precluded intimacies,
and the depressing view which he seemed honestly to entertain for all other
men, kept him, as one would suppose, from desiring intimacies with them.
Matters were finally arranged December 24, 1814, and though the treaty
left the cause of war without so much as a mention — destruction of our
commerce, the freedom of the seas, the personal rights of American seamen
—yet the conclusion of the treaty was most fortunate. The war had, indeed,
itself settled those questions forever, and no treaty stipulation was needed
to secure American rights as to them. It was a credit to the American
negotiators that they succeeded in agreeing among themselves. That on the
whole they were too much for English envoys, and secured the advantage to
their country, was declared by Englishmen. The Marquis of Wellesley
applauded them in the house of lords ; the Times published a heavy leader
denouncing the treaty and the imbecility of the English commission.

After the completion of his labors at Ghent, Mr. Adams visited Paris,
and was there on the return of Napoleon from Elba, and the beginning of
his famous hundred days. There he was joined by his family, who made
the then long and perilous journey from St. Petersburg. From Paris they
proceeded to London, where Mr. Adams found awaiting him with the Bar
ings, his commision as envoy plenipotentiary, etc., to Great Britain. Here
he also found his former colleagues, Messrs. Clay and Gallatin, engaged with
their former antagonists, the British commission, in settling the terms of
a treaty of commerce between the late belligerent countries. Mr. Adams
aided in closing it. Messrs. Clay and Gallatin left, and Mr. Adams entered
upon his new duties; he was now at the head of the American diplomatic
service.

The close of the war of 1812, with the general pacification of Europe,
put an end to the long and troublous period of American political history,
under the Constitution. Old parties had substantially disappeared, to be
followed by a few years of personal politics, the formation of new parties,

544 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

the unfolding of domestic policies ; and the building up of American
industries. There was little for Mr. Adams to do in England. It was the
period of the Castlereagh and Canning ministry. On the I5th of June,
1817, Mr. Adams sailed for the United States, closing the longest and most
brilliant career in the foreign service of America, and taking final leave of
Europe, where quite half of his life since his twelfth year, had been passed.
Mr. Monroe had succeeded Mr. Madison, and Mr. Adams came home to
take the head of his cabinet, as secretary of state. He was then fifty years
old ; nearly all his years spent in politics and public life, with a larger and
more varied acquaintance with foreign nations, peoples, and men, than
any of his countrymen. A hard student of political history, few men
have ever been called to that position, so well equipped to discharge its
important duties. The department of state, then and fora great many years
after, included the interior, as well as the foreign affairs of the nation.
It is said that General Jackson advised the new President to appoint Mr.
Adams. The appointment certainly secured a valuable friend in the cabinet
to the general, who was yet to run his career in Florida, of such bold expedi
ents, so useful to the country, and so nearly disastrous to himself personally.
With Mr. Adams was associated William H. Crawford, secretary of treas
ury ; John C. Calhoun, secretary of war ; Benjamin W. Crowninshield in
the navy, and William Wirt, attorney-general.

The transition from the gay and gorgeous capitals of Europe to the
straggling, muddy village of Washington was striking, and Mr. Adams did
not find it greatly improved in the years of his absence. The capital and
executive mansion had been burnt, and though the latter was restored, the
new capital was not built. The diary sketches the social events of the
capital, which contrast with the description of life in the European capitals,
by the same hand. Frequent teas, dull and solemn receptions. It was the
day of free language, free drinking, and much play. It was said that Mr.
Clay lost eight thousand dollars at a single sitting, which it was thought rested
heavily upon him. It was still the day of duels, and many wrere yet to be
fought in the neighborhood of the federal capital. In government affairs
the most perplexing fell upon the department of state. Domestic strifes
had ceased and were healing. Foreign troubles were grave and perplexing.
War with Spain was imminent. Her South American and Mexican colo
nies were in revolt, and a state of chronic war existed. The privateers of
Baltimore gave the government, as they did the Spanish merchantmen, great
annoyance. This led to the first neutrality act, which rested upon a prin
ciple since accepted and acted upon, not only by this country, but by
Great Britain. The Holy Alliance, that had re-constructed Europe in the
interest of the old dynasties, threatened to restore the power of Spain over
her colonies, while the passionate Clay was demanding in the House of

IN PRESIDENT MONROE'S CABINET, 545

Representatives that the United States should take steps looking to a
recognition of their independence.

The country had other causes of disquietude with Spain. The boun
daries of Louisiana had never been determined. General Jackson had been
pursuing Indians on Spanish territory. Don Onis, the Spanish min
ister, was an able diplomat, but was quite as anxious as was the Ameri
can secretary of state, to close up the differences. The negotiations were
conducted at Washington, but as Mr. Adams found, there were great diffi
culties to be overcome ; nor were the difficulties all on the side of the
Americans. The career of Jackson in Florida not only exposed the weak
ness of Spain, it greatly excited her pride. Mr. Monroe was very anxious
to arrange a treat}'. Mr. Adams, with his usual courage and confident will,
assumed the responsibility, and took the whole burden. He rejected the
offered mediation of Great Britain. He found the services of the French
minister, Mons. de Xeuville, very useful, and availed himself of them.

Mr. Adams' record of his own labors is exceedingly interesting. They
ended in this matter with the acquisition of Florida. The United States
secured a much coveted outlet to the " Southern Sea," as the Pacific was still
called. This important treaty was signed February 22, 1819. Mr. Adams
considered it one of the greatest labors of his life, though the press, stimulated
as he thought by Mr. Clay, condemned the boundary. Mr. Adams' satisfaction
was, however, quite destroyed by the subsequent discovery that immense
grants of land by the king of Spain, conveying lands supposed to be
acquired by the annulling of the grants, did not cancel them, owing to an
error in their supposed dates. This led to grave complications, the result
of which were not of easy forecast, when happily the Spanish cortes refused
to ratify the treaty and the king dispatched a new minister, General Yives,
with whom, happily, a new treaty was concluded and mutually ratified,
though opposed by Mr. Clay, who managed to have his way in the South
American republics.

Toward the close of Monroe's first term, came on the first great strug
gle over slavery, in the famous Missouri compromise measure. The Pres
ident asked his cabinet whether Congress could exclude slavery from the
territories — "forever." The cabinet was unanimous as to the first part.
Mr. Adams alone held thatyWrrr, as thus used, was perpetual. It stamped
the quality of freedom on the soil, while Calhoun, Crawford, and the rest,
held that it was limited to the territorial period. Among these was Mr.
Thompson, of New York, afterward one of the judges of the supieme court
of the United States. On the day of the signing of the Spanish treaty, Mr.
Adams concluded his laborious report upon weights and measures, upon
which he had been employed with his usual fidelity for the preceding four
years. A drier, and in many respects, a more uninteresting subject cannot
be named, though in itself of great importance. The subject embraces length,

546 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

capacity, ana weight. His report covered the history of weights arid meas
ures of all nations, with a synopsis of their laws. He ranked this labor in
importance with the Spanish treaty. Nothing ever really came of it; nor
did his countrymen share his estimate of it*

Mr. Adams was never a victim of undue sensitiveness regarding the
opinions of others. His pride, independence, and strong character placed him
beyond it. He had been much in Europe; understood the policies of men
and nations ; had measured himself too often with foreign diplomats ; was
too well assured of the rapidly growing greatness of his own country. He
seriously regarded the western continent as the just inheritance of the
United States. When, at Ghent, the English commissioners proposed to
have the United States cede a part of Maine to give them better access to
Quebec, he proposed to the American commissioners a counter proposition
for the cession of Canada to the United States, as the best and ultimately
inevitable way out of the inconvenience. Though he opposed the treaty for
the purchase of Louisiana because of lack of constitutional power, a view
shared by Mr. Jefferson himself, he deemed its acquisition of the utmost
importance ; and later, himself secured Florida. He was always in favor
of the acquisition of Cuba, as are many enlightened Americans. Our
absorption of the continent, he declared to be the law of nature. He said
to the Russian minister, July 23, 1823, "that we should contest the rights
of Russia to any territorial establishment on the continent, and we should
distinctly assume the principle that the American continents are no longer
subjects of European colonization." This is something more than the germ
of the famous Monroe doctrine, and was undoubtedly its first annunciation.
The doctrine was formally announced in the President's annual message to
Congress, December 2d of. that year.

The time of Monroe's administration has been called the "era of grod
feeling." If by this is understood the absence of party strife through
out this country, it is quite accurate. The federalists as a party had disap
peared from every state, except Massachusetts. New parties had not
appeared, were not to appear for years. The party which elected Mr.
Monroe, was known as the national republican ; often called democrats,
though that did not become the party name until the rise of the whig
party. The intervening time was a period of personal politics. While
there was, broadly speaking, political peace, there was not always har
mony in the cabinet, where was finally developed three presidential
candidates, one of whom, Mr. Crawford, was, more than once, suspected
of laboring to embarrass or defeat the administration and to blight the pros
pects of Mr. Adams as its head. There had sprung up an implied rule, that
the secretary of state was specially in the line of succession. Of this Mr.

*See appendix fourth volume Johnson's Cyclopedia, Weights and Measures, for a statement of the
whole subject and review of Mr. Adams' report.

IN PRESIDENT MADISON'S CABINET. 547

Adams had the advantage, though he did and would do nothing in office to
strengthen himself. Crawford seems to have been as small a pattern
of man as has appeared in American history, who succeeded in gaining so
high a position. Certainly Mr. Adams and Mr. Calhoun were unanimous
in this estimate. He was a perfect master of the arts of intrigue, and per
sonal management, to advance himself and depress an opponent. He had
secured the nomination of the Congressional caucus, which, doubtless, was
an advantage. That was a method of naming a candidate, then in vogue,
though not at that time useful. Mr. Adams, Mr. Crawford, and for a time
Mr. Calhoun were candidates. Out of the cabinet was Mr. Clay, and Gen
eral Jackson. Mr. Adams was the only supporter of the general in the
Monroe cabinet. He defended him throughout, and later, Jackson
rewarded him by believing Mr. Buchanan's tale, of collusion between Mr.
Adams and Mr Clay, whereby the first became President, and the other
secretary of state.

To the average man of to-day the idea that great men ever became can
didates for the presidency without the organized aid of a party, must seem
absurd. There were then no organized parties; never had been, as they now
exist. Men were supported for their supposed personal merits — their repu
tation for ability, and what they had already achieved. The arts of laudation
and detraction were as well understood then as now, and used as unspar
ingly ; but the candidate was limited to the use of such means as he and his
personal following could command. Mr. Jefferson was understood to favor
Mr. Crawford. Mr. Clay, with his popular manners, great magnetism, his
eloquence and address, the chivalry of his character, seemed a really
stronger candidate than the result proved. And Mr. Adams imputed to
him opposition to the administration to embarrass his candidacy. In time,
however, Mr. Clay's strong point — a recognition of the South American
republics — was out of the way, by the action of the President. Good
feeling \vas restored between them. Evidently, as his diary shows, Mr.
Crawford was the pillow on which Mr. .Adams reposed his animosities.
He charges him with intervening to secure advantages to the other party,
while the state department was negotiating treaties. He created difficulties
in the war office, to embarrass Mr. Calhoun, who fully shared Mr. Adams'
view of him.

During the struggles for the presidency, Mr. Adams concluded a treaty
with Great Britain, represented by Mr. Stratford Canning — later known as
Lord Stratford de Rcdclyffe, a famous British ambassador at Constantinople
for many years. The two men were not unlike, and had discussions as to
the relative claims of the two countries to the region about the mouth of
the Columbia river. They often parted in anger, which was many days in
cooling. Mr. Adams was the older, and cooler. He always displayed
more tact, as a diplomat, than in any other of the high positions of his life,

548 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

Mr. Canning more than once complained of the tone 01 the debates in
Congress. Mr. Adams told him that he would not permit that. He
probably interested Englishmen more than any of his countrymen, and
finally had his way with Mr. Canning, as with most Englishmen with whom
he., came in contact.

ELECTED PRESIDENT.

CHAPTER III.
CHOSEN PRESIDENT -HIS ADMINISTRATION-RE-ELECTION DEFEATED.

AS Mr. Monroe's term drew to a close, the small interest in public affairs
was lost sight of in the excitement -occasioned by the presidential
election. General Jackson, with the odium of the " coffin hand-bills," and
the hanging of the Englishmen, Arbuthnot and Ambrister in Elorida, devel
oped more strength than was anticipated. He certainly ran on a lower and
more vulgar, not to say baser level, than an}- other candidate for the presi
dency in American history. Mr. Adams to the last refused to employ any
means to bring himself forward. He admitted that defeat would be a
source of the greatest mortification. A full record of his position and feel
ings is found in the diary. With the slow methods of communication of
those days, it was not certainly known until the 24th of December, 1824,
that the people had failed to elect. Jackson led with ninety-nine votes,
Adams had eighty-four, Crawford forty-one, Clay thirty-seven. Mr. Adams'
strength was centered in New York and New England; Maryland gave him
three, Louisiana two, Delaware and Illinois one each. At that election
Calhoun received one hundred and eighty-two votes and was elected Vice
President.

By the smallness of his vote, Mr. Clay was excluded from the election
in the House of Representatives, and was obliged to choose between
Jackson and Adams. General Jackson could expect nothing from Mr.
Clay, who had on more than one occasion expressed emphatic opinions
adverse to him, not to be forgotten or forgiven. Nor was there anything1 in
Jackson's large popular vote that should control his action. He had a plu
rality, but not a majority. The election took place in the House of Repre
sentatives, January 9, 1825. Daniel Webster and John Randolph were tel
lers. The House voted by states, and the tellers declared that John Ouincy
Adams had thirteen votes, Andrew Jackson seven, William H. Crawford
>oar; and the speaker of the House solemnly declared that John Ouincy
Adams was elected President of the United States.

55O JOHN QUINCY ADAMS,

To the committee which announced the result to him, Mr. Adams
declared that if there was a probability that the people could make an elec
tion, he should feel it his duty to decline the high honor, in which he was
doubtless sincere. Mr. Seward, in his biography of John Quincy Adams, so
declares. No one knew better than he, that there was no method by which
this election could be again remitted to the people. Of the defeated men,
Mr. Clay remained aspiring and hopeful. General Jackson was angry and
revengeful, and entered upon a new canvass. It was the end of Mr. Craw
ford's presidential aspirations. If Mr. Clay chose wisely as to the presi
dency, no one can question the sagacity and wisdom of the new President,
who placed Mr. Clay at the head of his cabinet. With him were associated
Richard Rush, secretary of the treasury; James Barbour, secretary of war;
Samuel L. Southard, secretary of the navy, and William Wirt, attorney-
general. No man in our history, except Washington, ever reached the
place unembarrassed with obligations, and promises to others. No admin
istration, not even Washington's, was more pure. No one was more unpop
ular in the country, or more unfortunate as the head of it. Mr. Adams
was a Puritan of the Puritans. He believed that even virtue should appear
unlovely, and his work in his high office, hard, constant, unremitting, enlight
ened, and always patriotic, had none of the personal or public graces to
commend him or it, or his policy, to the favor of his countrymen. He
absolutely refused to use any of his vast power to change or control any
c f the numerous offices within his gift to advance the general interests of
his administration, though the success of an administration must largely
depend on the public estimate of it ; while the prosperity of the country
must, for the time, depend much upon the success of the power which
governs it.

He found the custom houses filled with the creatures of Mr. Crawford,
who at once turned to Jackson, yet he continued them in office ; refused
to dismiss any officer, who, though an enemy of his, otherwise manifested
personal fitness for the place. He began by the appointment of Rufus
King, of New York, a federalist, and a political enemy, to the English
mission, and could never at any time be brought to permit an appointment
to be made, influenced by a purpose to advance the interests of his admin
istration, though he must have seen the success of that administration, and
the general public good, were largely identical. Upon his entrance to office
he maintained every man in place, against whom no specific charge was
made; and this was the practiced rule of his government. It was an ill-
judged, and suicidal, but an inflexible rule of righteousness — self-righteous
ness it may be called — and rewarded as self-righteousness is. General JacK-
son came forward at the inauguration of John Quincy Adams as President,
and warmly congratulated him. There was no man in America who had
stood so courageously by the general as had Mr. Adams. This was the last

HIS ADMINISTRATION. 551

time they were ever to join hands. Soon after Jackson had himself nomi
nated for the presidency by the legislature of Tennessee, and organized an
opposition to his late friend, into which he drew most of the elements not
favorable to Mr. Adams in the late election, with a large circle of young
federalists.

The story of the coalition of Adams and Clay, first told by George
Kremmer, was widely circulated. In the Senate, the eccentric John Ran
dolph, of Virginia, denounced the coalition of "the Puritian and black-leg"
in a speech of nine hours. The Vice President, Mr. Calhoun, who had
adopted the singular rule that a senator could not be called to order for
words however unparliamentary, indulged the Virginian, who proceeded to
such lengths that the secretary of state challenged him to mortal combat.
It was said that Mr. Randolph had recently been in attendance upon the
death bed of the unfortunate Decatur, mortally wounded by Barron of
Chesapeake fame, and was rather inclined to an affair of honor. At the
meeting Randolph went on the ground in a huge morning-gown. Mr. Clay's
bullet passed through it without touching the senator ; at the second shot,
Randolph fired into the air, and rushing upon Mr. Clay, forced his hand
upon him.

The charge of the bargain and sale was largely the stock in trade of
the Jackson party, which then assumed the name of democrats. The general
had said in a party of friends, that the charge was true, and that he could
prove it by a member of Congress. Mr. Beverly, of that party, was
imprudent enough to permit this to get to the public. This led to a call
from Mr. Clay for the member's name, when General Jackson gave the name
of James Buchanan. Mr. Buchanan promptly disclaimed, and said the
general had gravely misunderstood him. Mr. Buchanan became the object
of contempt on the part both of Mr. Clay and General Jackson. Most of
the parties implicated in this scandalous tale, including Kremmer and
Beverly, wrote contrite letters to Mr. Clay, disclaiming, or admitting and
apologizing for their part in it. General Jackson remained unconvinced.
The tale was too useful, and had too much vitality.

Mr. Benton is authority for the saying, that no administration was
ever launched in the face of more difficulties. The powerful minority in
the House became a large majority at the next election, and the vote on
the confirmation of Mr. Clay indicated that the south as a section would
be arrayed against it ; indeed, this sectional feeling made itself manifest in
the presidential election. Slavery instinctively felt the presence of its great
antagonist, and brought on the contest. There was to be a congress, at
Panama, of delegates from the South American republics, and the United
States had been invited to take part in it. These republics had abolished
slavery. In his first message the President said he had accepted the invita
tion on the part of the United States, and should commission a minister to

552 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

attend it. The vehement opposition which this statement provoked is
astonishing at this later day. Mr. Webster came to the aid of Mr. Adams,
who ultimately prevailed, but the debate consolidated the slaveholding ele
ment, and disclosed to the President the underlying ground of its opposi
tion. Innocently Mr. Adams struck the first blow in the great war to which
his later years were to be devoted. As stated, the election of 1827
resulted in the overwhelming triumph of the Jackson opposition. The
party elected a speaker of the House, and organized the committees, with
four members of the opposition, and three administration members. It was
comparatively a period of political quietude, and the antagonism of the two
great departments of the government wrought less mischief than might
have been anticipated. Mr. VanBuren now came forward as the leader and
organizer of the Jackson forces. As a political strategist, he was largely in
advance of any of his countrymen to that period of our history. No effort
was made to meet him by methods similar to his own. The administration
compared him with Aaron Burr, and left him to work the ruin of his party
in his own time and way.

The opposition, as we have seen, was organized in advance of any
measure or policy of the administration. It did not care to test and try
Mr. Adams on the merit of his government. The opposition was purely
personal — opposition to him and his cabinet. They must be displaced, were
condemned in advance, and \vere to be removed at the first opportunity.
Any means that would aid in that was proper and legitimate, no other thing
was worth working for ; the only issue made : Shall Mr. Adams or Gen-
cril Jackson be elected in 1828; and while this issue was forced on the Pres
ident, in his removals and appointments to office, against the earnest, angry
remonstrance of his supporters, he persistently ignored the issue thus
forced. He adopted the American policy — a protective tariff, and a general
scheme of irternal improvements. This was offensive to Virginia and Vir
ginia politicians generally. He could not be expected to change his policy
to placate Virginia. He was only asked to soften its expression, that it
might be less offensive, This he refused to do, not only insuring his own
defeat by what he said and did, but making it more decisive by his manner.
This man, who met the commissioners at Ghent with tact and skill, who
was too much for the strategy of Canning, was absolutely tactless at the
head of the government. His idea seemed to be that whatever was pleas
ant and gracious must be wrong, and he was careful not to err in that direc
tion. To propitiate was a vice which he studiously avoided. He squared
his conduct and his management of public affairs by the passionless, rigid
rules of uprightness; and this he would submit to the judgment of his coun
trymen. His countrymen did him justice, but it came too late to save him
from the pain and mortification of defeat. History is fast settling the
account between him and his successor, not the least of whose misfortunes

HIS ADMINISTRATION. 553

is that his administration followed so directly one which sharply contrasts
with and condemns it. The cool north saw and appreciated his merit, but
that alone found no heart in the day of battle. It kindled no enthusiasm,
did not even secure the organization, the earnest labor, and persistent effort,
necessary to insure his re-election. He had the cold respect of men, not
their love, their devotion.

President Adams' life, as sketched by himself, was one of rare simplic
ity, industry, and absence of relaxation, or pleasure of any kind. Rising at 4
or 5 in the winter, and lighting his own fire, he devoted several hours to work,
ere the average man was out of bed. The usual forenoon and afternoon
hours were given to public affairs, sorely interrupted then as now by throngs
of visitors. He was often so overtaxed as to be compelled to retire at 8 or
9 in the evening. Bathing in the solitary Potomac, and riding on horseback
were among the means employed to insure a health, uniformly good.
Descended from a hardy race, well made for endurance, an abstemious, cleanly
life fitted him for the continuous strain of labor and anxiety carried through
all his years. He had not a particle of the magnetism which attracts per
sonal followers, which leads and moulds men to a purpose, and subjects them
to the will. He hardly had personal friends, save as good men are the friends
of virtue. Mr. Adams' relations with his cabinet were pleasant, friendly,
nothing more. Those were the clays of permanency in the cabinet. All of
Mr. Adams' cabinet appointees remained, with the exception of Governor
Barbour, who wished to go to England. Ho probably desired to be absent
when the day of certain defeat came, which must have seemed inevitable.
His place was filled with General Peter B. Porter, of New York, in com
pliance with the wish of the cabinet itself.

What of comfort could be extracted from the Holy Scriptures, he drew
as he began each day with some chapters of the Bible, in connection with
Scott's and Hewlett's commentaries. He was profoundly devout and relig
ious, after the New England pattern. He was compelled by the squarcst
rules of rigid honesty, to play a losing game, while his opponents resorted
to all the tricks then known, to which their ingenuity and mendacity made
additions. Mr. Adams was not one by nature and temper to submit plac
idly to the injustice meted out to him ; nor did the lesson of Christian
meekness restrain him from setting down in his diary his opinion of his
traducers and enemies. His command of the strong expressions of Eng
lish was copious ; his power of vituperation unsurpassed. He spoke of
Randolph as the image and superscription of a great man stamped on base
metal; as a frequenter of gin lane and beer ally. "The rancor of this
man's soul against me is that which sustains his life ; the agony of envy
and hatred of me, and the hope of effecting my downfall, are his chief
remaining sources- of vitality. The issue of the presidential election will
kill him by the gratification of his revenge."

554 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

In the exigency of the campaign Mr. Adams did one thing not charac
teristic of him. He addressed an open letter to the electors of Virginia,
in which he claimed their votes on the ground that he had exposed to Mr.
Jefferson, twenty years before, the designs of certain New England feder
alists — the Essex junto. This was more an ill-judged, than an unworthy
act. That the statements made to Mr. Jefferson were true, hardly admits
of a doubt. It was not worth wrhile to re-open the wound ; it did nothing
in the desired direction ; it was hurtful to Mr. Adams ; and re-involved him
in an old, always profitless controversy. In no instance was he provoked to
retort upon his enemies any of the many gross injustices done to him. The
election resulted in eighty-three votes for Adams, (one less than in the con
test of 1824), and one hundred and seventy-eight for Jackson. Mr. Cal-
houn was re-elected Vice President by one hundred and seventy-one votes,
eleven less than he received r.t the previous election.

He need not have been surprised. He could not conceal his disap
pointment. That his administration should receive such a judgment from
the people was disheartening to others than himself. That Andrew Jackson
should have been preferred by the masses to John Ouincy Adams, should
not greatly surprise ; that the American people quite deliberately elected
Jackson over Adams, is not encouraging. Von Hoist, the able German
political historian, says that "in the person of Adams, the last statesman,
who was to occupy it for a long time, left the White House." The line of
able, of great Presidents, of men elected for eminent fitness for the place,
was violently interrupted, and an epoch in political history closed, and
closed worthily. Mr. Adams was well entitled to rank with his prede
cessors. A new and depressing era was to open ; one in which personal
interests were to be the controling element in the administration of the
government.

Mr. Adams philosophically regarded it as closing his public career. He
was then in his sixty-second year — an old man ; his view of himself was
most sad. It was very superficial. The result had left his "character and
reputation a wreck ;" his "sunsets in deepest gloom;" "the year 1829
begins in gloom; " "the dawn was overcast, and as I began to write, my
shaded lamp went out ; " and he justly observes, the noting of so trivial a
thing "may serve but to mark the present temper of my mind." The
strong, self-sufficient Adams had his moments of weakness. He went to
retirement as he said wTith a combination of parties and public men against
his character and reputation, such as had not attended any man since the
Union began, and that combination had been formed, and was then exulting
over him, for the devotion of his life and soul to the Union. This very
reflection should have conveyed consolation to his soul, which for the time
tvas beyond the reach of alleviation. His language is exquisitely pathetic.
He resolved " to go into the deepest retirement, and withdraw from all

RE-ELECTION DEFEATED

555

connection with public affairs. " This decision saddened him, and he was
pained as he contemplated its effect upon his mind and temperament. He
intended to turn his attention to something useful, and so employ his mind
that it might not go to premature decay.

The cold, proud, reticent man, in his loneliness, appeals unintentionally
to our sympathy. His position in many respects was the parallel of his
father's, and he followed him to the same Quincy, in retirement, where the
elder Adams died on the 4th of July, 1826. The Quincy home he inherited;
and he came back to the old controversy with his enemies of the Essex
junto, recently so needlessly re-opened by his letter to Virginia. Mr.
Adams had made his original communication to President Jefferson to stim
ulate a repeal of the embargo, which, however wise its enactment, was not
wisely repealed, when it should have been ; and the detained ships were
rotting at their own wharves, while their cargos were perishing. Mr.
Adams feared that the depression produced by the embargo, worxing on
already alienated minds, might precipitate disloyal action ; and the commu
nication was made in absolute good faith, for the best purpose. On this, his
final return, thirteen of the gentlemen who supposed themselves assailed,
wrote him a bitter letter demanding the names of the parties implicated,
which he had never given. Mr. Adams replied, in good temper for him,
that he had never given the names, and he declined to give them. His
assailants rejoined with heat, hating him with an animosity as strong as
when he left the federal party. Coming as it did ere he had recovered from
the anguish of his crushing defeat, the assailed man set himself to the task of
self vindication, Mr. Adams was usually in the right. He had preserved
the evidence, and he now deliberately placed it in a pamphlet, where it is
arranged in an effective way, strong, clear, incisive, bold, conclusive, and
yet he did not publish it, nor did he in anyway rejoin to his assailants, and
they died, not knowing how much they owed to this uncharacteristic for.
bcarancc, which we wonder over. In these later years Charles Francis
Adams has given the pamphlet to the world, which amply vindicates the
original communication made to President Jefferson. In a literary view it
is one of the happiest of Mr. Adams' many labors. Its composition may
not have been a labor of love ; withholding it was an act of unexpected gener
osity or forbearance. What was he now to do ? He was still in full vigor,
hale, though worn. He had been a versifier from youth, and he published
a rhymed description of the conquest of Ireland. He plunged into the
Latin classics ; he meditated a memoir of his father, and wrote the opening.
The publication of this by his son occasions little regret that his plan was
left unexecuted. Though fond of literature, few able men had less mental
aptitude to become a successful writer.

jOfllS QUINCY ADAMS.

CHAPTER IV.

AGAIN A MEMBER OF CONGRESS.

IN the summer of 1826, William Morgan, a thriftless tailor, of Batavia,
New York, wrote an expose of the secrets of Free Masonry. He was
seized, carried to old Fort Niagara, and, it is generally believed, made way
with. He certainly never returned. The event produced great excitement,
aggravated by the alleged interference of members of the order, to prevent
an investigation, and thwart the efforts made to prosecute parties charged
with murder. The uprising against the order took a political form. The
anti-Masonic party in western New York, cast seventy votes in 1829, and one
hundred and twenty-eight in 1830. It spread to other states, Pennsylvania,
Ohio, Massachusetts, Vermont, and elsewhere, and in 1832 ran \Virt for
President, carrying Vermont, and probably diverting votes enough from
Mr. Clay in Ohio, New York, and New Jersey, to re-elect General
Jackson.

It was one of the charges of the Jackson men that Mr. Adams was a
Mason ; which charge was attended with odium. He was never a Mason,
though he did not deny this accusation. In September, 1830, the anti-
Masons and others, of the Plymouth district, which happily did' not include
Boston, by a formal delegation, offered Mr. Adams the Congressional nom
ination. They expressed the fear that, having been President, he would
not accept. His reply was that he thought an ex-President might honorably
accept the office of selectman, if elected by the people. The nomination
for Congress was accepted and election followed. This post he continu
ously filled until his death, February 23, 1848, a period of seventeen years.
During the year following his election to Congress, the anti-Masons of Mas
sachusetts, nominated Mr. Adams for governor. The Everetts, and others,
endeavored to induce the national republicans to accept him as their candi
date, which it is believed they would have done, had it not been that it
would re-open the old controversy with the federalists ; as it was, each of

AGAIN A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 557

the three parties nominated a candidate. There was no election by the
people. The national republicans had a majority in the legislature, in which
the contest devolved, and elected their candidate, John Davis, who was
advanced from that post to the senate. Mr. Adams would gladly have
accepted an election as governor ; his defeat only isolated him the more.
For his greater mission, he was left solitary and independent of all men and
parties. Mr. Adams took his seat in the twenty-second Congress in
December, 1831. Viewed from the present standpoint, he seems to haw
stood alone, the one conspicuous figure of all the years of his service.

No man ever entered the House possessed of such vast stores of kno\\'
edge upon all subjects, or had his mental resources better at command
Conscientious in the discharge of all duties, punctual in attendance upon
the sittings of Congress, he always voted and, though nominally of th^
national republicans, acted independently. Though called the "old man
eloquent," the name was hardly appropriate. He had no quality of the
orator, and little that pertained to eloquence. His voice was shrill, pierc
ing, and liable to break. Not a rhetorician, nor yet lacking fitting words,
he always had matter pertinent to the subject in hand. With no fancy, no
wit, no humor, he was always intensely in earnest. A good parliamentarian,
he was a hard fighter, loving a close, bitter contest ; a master of sarcasm and
invective, irritable, quick tempered, and aggressive, he himself never knew
how hard he hit; and careless of consequences, he was accustomed to stand
alone, never counting opponents, and regardless of their quality. Ready to
defend a pass against a host, or single handed attack an army in the field,
he soon became not only the most conspicuous figure in Congress, but will
probably remain the most remarkable in American parliamentary history.
Nor has he any parallel in the annals of the British senate. His days were
days of strife, his career one of chronic war. Without allies or friends for
several years, he was rich in enemies, and was seldom without a controversy
on his hands. Like the French Marshal Massena, the heat, roar, and smoke
of a battle, of his own seeking, seemed to clear his atmosphere, inspire,
steady, and strengthen all his faculties. Though all men suffered who
attacked him, he so exasperated the slaveholders and their allies that,
blinded and reeling from his blows, a sort of fury possessed them to renew
the attack. To their attacks he was impervious. There was no flaw in his
character, no weakness in his armor, no mistake or fault in his information.
Never caught at a weak point, nor in an unguarded hour, he was always
alert, never wavering, never at a loss. Often losing temper but gaining
strength and power by it, he never made a serious mistake, met a rebuff,
lost a battle, or suffered a disadvantage. He was unlike any other man in
the American Congress; stood so far apart from all men, that he can be
compared with none. It is rather by contrasts that he is to be estimated.
He had no followers. Admirers and friends could hardly touch him at the

558 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

point of sympathy. Men instinctively antagonized and prepared him for
defense. Circumstances might compel coalitions; alliances with him were
hardly possible. Men were assured of his sincerity, of his honesty, of his
inflexibility of purpose, and this gave him power in the House, a great and
growing1 influence in the nation.

o o

It is barely possible for the younger generation to appreciate the thrall-
dom in which the slave power held the north. A glance at the advantages
already gained by the south, may help to a comprehension of its attitude,
when Mr. Adams entered the House. On the formation of the national
government no one attempted to justify slavery. It was permitted, and
the African slave trade secured tolerance until 1808. Slavery was already
prohibited in the Northwest territory, by the ordinance of 1787. The
south had representation in the House based in part on her slaves. The
northern states passed laws for the return of escaping slaves. These being
unsatisfactory, four years after the organization under the Constitution, the
first fugitive slave law was enacted by Congress. Already the Quakers of
North Carolina had freed their slaves, which the state seized and sold. In
1800 Congress perpetuated the slave code in the newly created District of
Columbia. In 1803 Louisiana was purchased. In 1804 the United States
fought Tunis to free white slaves, and stole black ones from Africa. In 1806
intercourse with St. Domingo was broken off, because slaves there were in
arms for freedom. In 1808 the foreign slave trade was abolished; coastwise
and interstate slave traffic protected, thus securing a monopoly to the
domestic producers of slaves. In 1810-11 Georgia sent an army into
Florida to recapture slaves, and though at peace with Spain, Congress with
closed doors connived at the seizure of Amelia island, which became a
rendezvous for slavers and pirates. Spain complained, and the United
States disclaimed. In 1816 Randolph pronounced a fierce philippic against
the slave trade at the capital. In 1818, came the first Seminole war, for the
capture of slaves, in which was blown up with hot shot old Fort Nichols,
where fugitives had taken shelter. Of the captives, a few were handed over
to the Indian allies for torture. The year 1820 saw the Missouri compro
mise, whereby slavery gained a kingdom and its northern supporters the
name "doughface." In 1821 Florida was purchased. The "Maroons,"
children of slaves born there, were, by the treaty of purchase, to be pro
tected, but a long war was waged for their capture and return to slavery.
In 1826 the south fought the Panama mission in the interests of slavery,
because it was feared that slavery might suffer in Cuba and Porto Rico, as
well as at home. In Congress no voice had been raised in condemnation
of slavery, save incidentally in the debates of 1820. Curiously enough,
under Mr. Adams' championship of freedom, the whole controversy was
conducted on the seemingly illogical issue of the right of petition, which

AGA1X A MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 559

never made much figure in Congressional history, save in the time and under
the iead of Mr. Adams against slavery.

Meantime the conscience of the North had been wonderfully quicl^ned
on tlvj subject. Men were awakened to its moral, as well as political aspects;
discussion arose, and action followed. Though Mr. Adams would have
preferred the chairmanship of the committee on foreign affairs, a pending
crisis with South Carolina on the subject of imposts, decided his appoint
ment to the chairmanship of the committee on manufactures. Nullification
really was one phase of the approaching struggle, though not necessarily con
nected with slavery. Mr. Adams deemed it wise to examine with care the
subject of the tariff, with a view to such modification as might be just.
Jackson's annual message of December 4, 1832, filled Mr. Adams with rage.
In his judgment it was a total change of policy and a surrender to the
nullifiers. Jackson's proclamation in reply to the ordinance of nullification,
was more in accord with Adams' temper. The ultimate compromise, which
was a concession without a vindication of the underlying principle, was very
distasteful to Adams, who would have compelled the state to abandon her
position. Jackson was glad to have the matter adjusted, and aided the
compromise. Had Adams been re-elected President the matter would have
otherwise terminated, and there might never have been a war of rebellion.
In the main he was in opposition to the administration of General Jackson,
though not from any feeling of personal rivalry. Jackson's final weakening
to the nullifiers, his opposition to internal improvements, his characteristic
war on the United States bank, and removal of the deposits, and his Kitchen
cabinet, would have placed any independent man in opposition. In the mat
ter of French spoliation Mr. Adams gave the administration efficient aid.
A treaty had secured to this country five millions, as compensation for dam
ages to American commerce, but it had never been paid. Jackson was
determined to have it or fight. He sent a message to Congress recommend
ing reprisals on French commerce, and ordered the American minister, Mr.
Livingston, to demand his passports and go to London. The old hero so
frightened his timid supporters, that he was in danger of being left in a
minority. As in his extremity for the Florida invasion, Mr. Adams came
to his rescue, and by a telling speech turned the tide in his favor. Timely
and important as it was, it gained no recognition from Jackson. The speech
was in support of a cause, and not of the President personally. An intense
egotist, in his own estimation he stood for all causes. It is said that R. M.
Johnson, of Kentucky, once attempted to renew friendly relations between
Jackson and Adams, and decided Jackson ought to make the first advance,
which he refused to do. Later, when the President visited Boston, it was
proposed that Harvard college confer on him the honor of doctor of laws.
So absurd was this that Mr. Adams, who was a member of the board,
opposed it, and afterward spoke of Jackson's learning in terms of contempt

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

CHAPTER V.

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION.

SOON after Mr. Adams took his seat he presented fifteen petitions from
Pennsylvania for the abolition of slavery and the slave trade in the Dis
trict of Columbia. He moved their reference to the standing committee on
the District, saying that he did not favor that part of the prayer which asked
for the abolition of slavery itself. His real reason was he thought that
should abide the fate of slavery in the adjoining states. The reference was
made, and seemingly nothing came of it. The south was not alarmed and
years of quiet followed. His diary is silent on the subject of slavery, and
slavery remained undisturbed in Congress.

The project of the annexation of Texas, which assumed definite form
after the success of the Texan revolution, in 1835, and which, it was
believed, had for its object the extension of slave territory, aroused appre
hension at the north. Mr. Adams took no part in the rising struggle, out
side the House. He was not an outside leader or orator, attended no
anti-slavery conventions, made no addresses, wrote no articles for the press,
or letters for publication. His task was to conduct the case in the House
of Representatives, and all he needed of support, was to be continued in
his seat. Conscienceless wealth and respectability were against him ; but
his district was genuinely Puritan, and stood by him. Mr. Adams pre
sented more petitions in February, 1835, for the abolition of slavery in the
District of Columbia. The south and its sympathizers deemed it expedient
to put a stop to this. The first battle was in the Senate, where Thomas Mor
ris, democratic senator for Ohio, presented petitions for the abolition of
slavery in the District. Buchanan denounced the agitation of the slavery
question as a moral wrong. The Senate decided that all such memorials
should be laid on the table. Mr. Calhoun brought forward a measure to
exclude incendiary matter from the mails, and mobs in the south executed

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION. $bl

the law in advance of its enactment. The northern states were called on for
legislation, and Maine responded. Senator Ruggles declared there was not
an abolitionist in that state. Arkansas was admitted, with a constitution
prohibiting the abolition of slavery.

Mr. Adams, on the 4th of January, 1836, presented a petition in the
usual form. Mr. Glascock, of Georgia, moved that it be not received, and
a two days' debate followed. Pending this, Jarvis, of Maine, offered a reso
lution that the House entertain no petition to abolish slavery in the District
of Columbia. January i8th, Mr. Adams offered another series ; one from
one hundred and forty-eight women, whom he declared he thought were
citizens. A motion was made to refer, followed by a motion to lay that
motion on the table. February 8th, this ingenious device to defeat the right
of petition, was sent to a special committee, Mr. Pinkney chairman. May
8th, the committee reported : First, Congress had no power over slavery
in the states ; second, Congress ought not interfere with slavery in the Dis
trict ; third, these petitions were disquieting, and should neither be printed
nor referred, but laid on the table, and no further action taken on them.
Though he asked for but five minutes, the House refused to hear Mr. Adams
on the first resolution, which was adopted by one hundred and eighty-two
to nine. Mr. .Adams asked to be excused from voting on the second prop
osition, and was indulged. The third, with its preamble, was read. He
arose and declared it was unconstitutional ; a violation of the rules of the
House, and of the rights of the people. He was interrupted by shrieks
and yells, but obstinately persisted. This proposition was adopted by one
hundred and seventeen to sixty-eight — a respectable majority, — and the
south again breathed easily. This was the first form of the famous Ather-
ton gag, finally embodied in the twenty-first standing rule, for so many
years the target of the assaults of Mr. Adams. December 2ist and 22d the
House was again in an uproar over this question, and Mr. Adams had to
override the storm to make his sentiments heard. He had a quarrel with
the speaker, first to get his name on the journal as voting on this proposi
tion ; then as to its form, insisting that his speech should also be recorded.
This was voted out of order. Then he demanded that his motion and the
ruling be recorded. This not being done he brought it up again the next
day. In the debate that followed, a southern man declared that, if ever the
issue came to a war, the south would conquer New England. Mr. Adams
told him his "name should go down to posterity doomed to everlasting
fame."

It was the fate of the south that the measures it adopted to quiet the
agitation should work still greater woe, and lead to the destruction of slavery.
The northern opponents of slavery, finding their right of petition denied
determined to exercise it, and through Mr. Adams flooded Congress with
their memorials. For a long iimc this made a great demand on his time, and

JOHN yUINCY ADAMS.

exposed him to no little danger. It made him the perpetual antagonist of the
ruling power in the republic, and compelled him daily to face alone a bold,
unscrupulous body of able, angry, persistent men ; watchful and alert to catch
or trap him. His opposition strengthened him, and the burdens placed upon
him increased his power. When he came to have coadjutors and allies in the
House, they were rather a source of weakness. He had to guard them from
missteps and mistakes, to hold in check the extremists who, by precipitate
action, might injure the cause. A public opinion must be formed, which
should sustain every step. The north must first be conquered. The aboli
tionists desired to push him forward ; his family and personal friends to hold
him back. Between these conflicting opinions he must choose his own
course, and that he did wisely.

February 3, 1837, was a day memorable in the life of Mr. Adams, and
in the struggle. At the end of a series of two hundred petitions was one
from ladies of Virginia, which he offered ; as to the remaining one, he said he
would ask the decision of the speaker before offering it. It purported to
come from twenty-two slaves ; he wanted to know whether it came within
the rule of exclusion. The speaker hesitated, could not decide till he knew
the contents of the paper. Mr. Adams said he suspected it was not what it
appeared to be. He would send it to the chair. Objections. The speaker
said it was so extraordinary, he would take the sense of the House. When
that body came to get an idea of the case, the greatest excitement prevailed
Men rushed in from the lobbies, and many tried to speak at the same time.
No one knew what the paper was. Few had heard what Mr. Adams said of
it. The words " Expel him! Expel him!" were shouted. No one was
equal to the emergency. No one was cool but Mr. Adams. Haynes, of
South Carolina, moved to reject. Lewis, from Alabama, would punish Mr.
Adams. Haynes withdrew his inadequate motion. Grantland would second
Mr. Lewis, who thought if Mr. Adams was not punished, the southern men
had better go home, as they did twenty-four years later. Alford, of Vir
ginia, would move that when presented, the petition should be removed
from the house and burnt. WTaddy Thompson, of South Carolina, offered
a resolution "that Mr. Adams, for his attempt to introduce a petition pur
porting to come from slaves, has been guilty of gross disrespect, and that he
be instantly placed at the bar of the House, and severely censured by the
speaker. He made a little speech against Mr. Adams, and threatened him
with a criminal prosecution. Mr. Haynes wanted to amend this, and more
excited speeches followed. Then another resolve, declaring that Mr. Adams
by his attempt to introduce a petition from slaves for the abolition of slavery
in the District of Columbia, had committed an outrage, a flagrant indignity,
extended the rights of freemen to slaves, incited them to insurrection, and
that he be forthwith censured. Mr. Lewis was still in favor of going to

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION. 5^3

Alabama.* Mr. Alford preferred to remain "till this beautiful Potomac
became a river of blood," — and here Mr. Patton, of Virginia, got in a word
of sense. He asked if Mr. Adams had attempted to offer the petition?
Did it pray to have slavery abolished ? Mr. Adams then arose and said,
coolly for him, that he thought it proper to remain silent till the House
called on him ; when he supposed he might be heard. He did not offer the
petition. He intended to get the decision of the speaker before taking a
step. Should the House ever come to a knowledge of the contents of the
paper, it would need to amend the last resolution. "The prayer was that
slavery should not be abolished. " The petitioners were the auxiliaries of
the gentlemen! This was a pretty dish to place before the House! Sore
discomfiture prevailed, during which poor Mann, of New York, the poorest
man ever in the House, made a speech, full of stupid abuse of Mr. Adams,
and a sad floundering among epithets. Then Thompson angrily assailed
Mr. Adams, for trifling with the House — which was good; and offered three
resolutions to meet the new aspect of the case, in substance — first, that
Mr. Adams by an effort to present a petition from slaves was guilty of gross
contempt of the House; second, that said member by creating the impres
sion, and leaving the House under said impression, that said petition was
for the abolition of slavery, when he knew it was not, has trifled with the
House; third, that he be censured by the House.

Mr. Pinkney said Mr. Adams, by the possession of the petition, admit
ted communication with slaves, and i^as indictable for abetting iiisiinrctwir,
and censurable by the House. One gentleman thought if the petition was
burnt, the presenter should share in the fire. On the next day, Dromgool
of Virginia, the shrewdest of the southern party, brought in more resolu
tions. His first declared that Mr. Adams "has given color to the idea that
slaves have the right of petition, and of his readiness to be their organ," a IT*.
deserves censure; second, that he receive a censure from the speaker. In
the debate of that day Mr. Alford deplored " this awful crisis of our beloved
country." Mr. Robertson, though opposing the resolutions, denounced
Mr. Adams. All the warm bloods took their time, and had their flings at
the old man. His colleague, Mr. Lincoln, defended him, as did George
Evans, of Maine, — both ably. Caleb Gushing, another colleague, then a
young man, made a strong and effective speech for him. In the main, how
ever, he was left to care for himself, to which he was quite equal. Long
before the south talked itself out, and before Mr. Adams had said a word,
the champions came to feel, there was absolutely nothing in their case; and
were content with a mild, rather soothing form of condemnation; one
generally condemning petitions from slaves; and that as Mr. Adams had
solemnly disclaimed disrespect, and avowed his intention not to present the

*Al-a-bama (Indian) — "Here we rest."

JOHN QUIXCY ADAMS.

petition, "therefore all further proceedings in regard to his conduct do
cease." Mr. Vandorpool, of New York, moved the previous question,
intended to cut Mr. Adams off from speaking at all. No southern man
would do that. There was not enough of that nerve which is the meanest
cowardice, to carry it, and Mr. Adams had the floor. Poor, badgered, be
rated, abused old man ; he needs no pity. His enemies became objects of
pity under his fiery lash, but contempt places them out of the reach of pity
even. In the previous session he had made a masterly speech against the
acquisition of Texas, which had asked admission as a state As this effort
had a personal element, it was more pungent. He claimed that slaves had
the right to petition, and his only offense was asking a question. The
speaker had entertained and put it to the House. What did he deserve?
He showed the folly of the numerous resolutions aimed against him, and
was especially happy in dealing with Dromgool's definition of his offense —
"giving color to an idea." In language once used by him on the floor, and
never reported,. Adams "consecrated him to everlasting ridicule." Each
assailant was dealt with in turn, and each was eager to explain. He justified
every word he had said, and disclaimed all idea of apology or abandon
ment of his course. There was much excitement during the delivery of his
speech. When he closed, no one attempted a reply, and his assailants,
abandoning all idea of censure, contented themselves with a resolution that
slaves could not petition the House. How much they profited by the
lesson will appear at a later and greater day. Mr. Adams supposed that the
petition was prepared by a master, who had the names of his slaves
appended, to place him in a position of embarrassment, perhaps danger;
as he held it to be his duty to present all petitions. It was a part of the
prayer that Mr. Adams be expelled from the House, if he presented more
petitions against slavery.

The months rolled on. Mr. Adams' diary shows how they passed with
him. Under the dates of September and October, 1837, we mic^ m's csti-
mate of his own position, as well as that of his friends. Much of Sep
tember was occupied in arranging his weapons offensive, with which his
arsenal was now well supplied. Among the petitions offered was one from
Gregory, who wanted to be declared an alien by act of Congress, till slavery
was abolished, and justice rendered the Indians, also. September 28th he
put in a number of petitions and offered a resolution on the coast slave
trade. The next day he showered down fifty more. All December he
plied the House. He insisted that those referring to Texas should go to
the foreign committee. On the 2gth of the month he offered them in
bundles.

Mr. Slade, from Vermont, entered the House with the twenty-fifth Con
gress, and presented the resolutions of his state legislature against slavery,
when the slaveholders in a body withdrew from the House — the first seces-

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION. 565

sion. They came back and substantially passed the Pickens Senate rule;
thirty-four northern democrats voting with them.

On the assembling of Congress in December, 1838, Mr. Atherton, of
New Hampshire, presented the slavery caucus platform, understood to be
from the brain of Calhoun. This fixed upon the House the rule of the year
before, and pilloried the name of Atherton ; the thing was henceforth known
as the " Atherton gag." Joshua R. Giddings, from Ohio, took his seat at
that session, and soon became second to Mr. Adams in the contest, and his
friend in the House. January 3d, Mr. Adams presented about a hundred
petitions; January I3th, fifty; January 28th was spent in receiving and
assorting petitions ; February I4th following, he presented some three
hundred and fifty, all except three or four bearing upon slavery. Some
were of an unique character, and even under the rules raised great excite
ment. At the last Mr. Adams was required to state what they were, who
they came from, and what their object. On the I 3th of the same month a
commotion was raised by Giddings, who gave as a reason why he would not
vote to build a bridge over the Anacosta — eastern branch of the Potomac —
that slavery made the city of Washington an unfit capital of a free country.
Mr. Adams went promptly to his aid, as he had aided Mr. Slade in his con
test the same month against the Atherton resolution.

Nearly ever}' day saw an excitement in the House over the subject of
slavery. Mr. Adams had a difficulty with the speaker, on that notable I4th
of February, in his persistence to get upon the journal of the House his rea
son for a vote on the same subject. March 1 2th following he presented
ninety-six petitions, one of which prayed to have the declaration of inde
pendence expunged. Men were ingenious in inventing forms in which to
express their horror of slavery and exacerbate the souls of slaveocrats.
December 2Oth he opened with a batter}' of fifty anti-slavery petitions,
three of which asked to have the independence of Hayti acknowledged,
which was specially offensive. These he demanded should go to the com
mittee on foreign affairs, as not within the rule; as they were not: or, they
should be sent to special committee, as the foreign relations would never
report on them. The chairman of the committee said "that was an insinu
ation not to be made against a gentleman." Mr. Adams retorted that it was
11 not an insinuation. It was a direct charge." January 7, 1834, he cheer
fully put in ninety-five anti-slavery petitions. In July of that year the
Ainistad, with a small invoice of freshly imported slaves, sailed from Ha
vana for the south side of Cuba. Four days out, regardless of the Ameri
can union, the misguided Africans arose, killed the captain, some of the
crew, captured the rest, whom the}' put ashore, and ordered Montez a:..d
Ruaz, their purchasers, to steer for Africa. They headed north, and drifted
upon the coast of Connecticut, and were seized by Lieutenant Gedney, of
the coast survey. He libeled the ship and crew for salvage, as property.

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

Montez and Ruaz were liberated. Generally all captured slavers had been
carried into southern ports, and the slavers tried for piracy by a jury of slave
buyers, and nobody convicted. Now there was to be a trial of slaves,
before freemen, where pirates were prosecutors. The Spanish minister also*
demanded they should be given up as criminals, which the President, Mr
Van Buren, favored; and he sent an armed vessel to be in waiting to receive
them, the moment they were decided to be amenable to such a fate. The1
American world was profoundly stirred, and looked forward to the resul*
with the greatest solicitude.

Mr. Adams offered a resolution in the House enquiring why persons
charged with no crime were held in prison, which of course was rejected
by the majority. On the trial the negroes were declared free men ;
Montez and Ruaz appealed to the supreme court of the United States, and
Mr. Adams volunteered as counsel for the Africans. The court held that
they were never legally reduced to slavery ; and therefore could not be held.
As Mr. Dromgool would say, "giving color to the idea " that there was ?
legal way in which free men might be reduced to slavery. March 30, 1840,
was a brisk day for Mr. Adams, and he made offer of five hundred and
eleven anti-slavery petitions. The north was not quieted by the Atherton
regimen. April I3th, he presented a petition to abolish the whipping oi
women in the District, and it was a fairly good day for others.

As a whig, Mr. Adams supported General Harrison in the presidential
contest of 1840. At the extra session of 1841, there was the usual wrangle
over the "Atherton gag." There was a rain of anti-slavery petitions dur
ing all the months Congress was in session. Among them were many queer
specimens. Men took advantage of Mr. Adams' position to attempt to
involve him in unpleasant predicaments, but always failed. Virginians
asked that all free colored persons be sold or expelled from the country.
He declared his abhorrence of it, but handed it in, saying that the twenty-
first rule — the " Atherton " — did not exclude it. So he received one from
Virginia asking that Mr. Adams be arraigned at the bar of the House, and
expelled. He asked that both be referred. Mr. Dromgool would move to
lay the last on the table, unless the gentleman desired to give anothef
direction. Mr. Adams said carelessly, that "the gentleman from Massachu
setts cared very little about it," and the table received it.

The 2 ist of January, 1842, was a memorable day. Mr. Adams opened
with a petition from Georgia, praying that he be removed from the chair
manship of the committee on foreign relations, where he had been placed
by the whig speaker. Mr. Adams took advantage of the question of privi
lege thus presented, and proceeded, under the wildest excitement, to defend
himself; which meant an excoriation of the pro-slavery men. The speaker
got rid of it by saying that the petition must go over under the rules of the
House. Mr. Adams still had the floor, and he went on his usual way, pre-

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION. 567

Anting petitions, which dropped into the bottomless sink of the twenty-first
rule. His blood was up, as was that of his enemies. Toward evening,
with Giddings, Slade, and Gates (of New York), around him, and Wise,
Gilmoer, Holmes, and others, confronting him, exhibiting a paper, he said:
" I hold in my hand the memorial of Benjamin Emerson and forty-five
citizens of Massachusetts, praying for the peaceful dissolution of the Union
of these states." An ominous silence fell on the House. He went on to
state the reason, a condensed indictment of the south, in language cour
teous, and evading the fatal rule. A whirl of turmoil swept through the
House, during which Mr. Adams moved its reference to a select committee,
with instructions to report that the prayer of the petition be denied; and
resumed his seat. Half a hundred men sprang to the floor, shouting "Mr.
Speaker! " At last the wary old man had delivered himself into the hands
of his foes, and they sprang forward in fierce competition to mangle him
Hopkins, in a rage, demanded that the paper be burnt in the presence of
the House. Wise wanted to know if a resolution of censure was in order.
Mr. Adams thought that it was. A motion was made to adjourn. Mr.
Adams thought that if a vote of censure was to pass, it had better be on
that day. Mr. Gilmoer offered a resolution of censure. A question of
reception was made. Mr. Adams hoped it would be received. He had
waited long for what such a resolution must bring — a great day for brave
speech, when speech would be greater than even deeds. The House
adjourned without action. Men with clinched hands, and scowling brows,
cursed the abolitionists. Main' exulted that "the old man " was now in
the hands of the fierce democracy. The southern whigs would stand by
them.

A meeting of the .slavery leaders was held that night. Mr. Giddings
made a vain effort to secure a meeting of northern men, who would stand
by Mr. Adams. He was coldly answered that such a meeting would look
like a sectional movement. Slade and Young, of Vermont; Calhoun, of
Massachusetts; Henry Lawrence and Simonton, of Pennsylvania; Gates
and Crittenden, of New York, only responded kindly, and met in Mr. Gio-
dings' room. Dr. Lcavett and Theodore Weld were also present. Mr.
Adams was sent tor. So long unused to kindness and sympathy was the
old man, that the message moved him greatly. He declined to attend, and
indicated to the committee who waited upon him, some points upon which
he wished for authorities; and dismissed them. At the slavery council it
was decided to place the prosecution in the hands of a slave-holding whig,
to lead the assault. The choice fell on Thomas F. Marshall, nephew of the
chief justice of that name. He had the family ability, was a brilliant
speaker, and emulous of the place. In the .presence of the foreign minis
ters, attaches, and privileged persons, and the crowd always ready to assem
ble at the capital, the House the next day opened. The preamble to the

568 JOHN OUINCY ADAMS.

resolutions as finally offered glorified the Union. Mr. Adams had offered
the greatest possible insult to the people, for which he merited expulsion.
The House in mercy would only severely censure, and leave him to the
indignation of his countrymen.

Mr. Marshall quite met the occasion, in the public estimation. He
denounced Mr. Adams as a traitor. Mr. Adams arose, was recognized,
asked if the House would entertain the resolutions, and called for the read
ing of the first paragraph of the declaration of independence. It was read
down to the point which declared the power to abolish or change a govern
ment, when it failed to secure the true ends of government. He then, with
severe clearness, pointed out the wrongs and injustice wrought by the
government, through the coalition of the slaveholders and democrats, and
asserted that it was time the people should, by petitions, arouse the nation.

Mr. Everett, of Vermont, moved to print and postpone the resolutions
a week. Mr. Wise supported the resolutions in a long prepared speech of
great bitterness. Adams retorted his part in the tragedy of the Graves-
Cilly duel, and turned on Marshall with a withering speech of sarcasm and
ridicule, recommending him to go back to his books. 'Marshall, as if in
defiance, arose and stood facing him. A hush fell on the thronged House,
as the old man, worked up to his greatest power, poured on him mingled
wrath, scorn, and derision. Then he turned to the subject matter of
debate. Not so much as a breath, a rustle, was heard. Reporters were
charmed, slaveholders shed tears. When he took his seat, Marshall
remained standing, until a friend recalled him to the consciousness he had
lost. Marshall never fully recovered, and said later, to John Campbell, that
he "would rather die a thousand deaths than encounter that old man."
Giddings, and the little band about Mr. Adams, were no longer anxious;
and the whigs of the north began to gather around him. Not only these,
but Mr. Botts, of Virginia, who later behaved so shabbily in Mr. Giddings'
case, came to his aid, though he needed none. Marshall again addressed
the House, preparing the way to a retreat.

January 3d, Mr. Gilmore proposed to Mr. Adams to withdraw the
petition and he would withdraw the resolutions of censure. Mr. Adams
refused, entered upon his personal defense, and spoke the rest of the day,
reviewing his past course. He and his friends justly complained of the
report of this speech, and the next morning he demanded a delay, until a
competent reporter could be procured. Marshall objected, and moved the
previous question. In the face of this attempt to cut him off, he went on.
Dr. Leavett was a competent reporter, and Giddings smuggled him into the
House to take down the speech. The slaveholders had him turned out, and
he got a place outside the bar. The southerners were so incensed that they
soon called Mr. Adams to order. The speaker sustained him, and the House,
on an appeal, sustained the chair. Mr. Adams consumed the day, without

HIS COURSE ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION. ^)

finishing. As he was about to resume the next day, a Georgian \vished to
know how much time it would require. Mr. Adams, in a business way,
said he could not tell, but he thought "he could finish in ninety (lavs"
This opened new views to the prosecutors. Mr. Adams had used the most
of three days in his arraignment of slavery, and proposed to go on for three
months. Mr. Botts intervened with a motion to lay the whole subject on
the table. This prevailed — one hundred and six to ninety-three, and so
the prosecution ended in defeat and humiliation.

The resolutions in Mr. Adams' case being disposed of, the question
came up on the reception of the petition he had offered, which was lost —
forty for reception, one hundred and sixty-six against it. Thereupon, ?\Ir.
Adams being still fresh, and there being some d.iylight left, worked on and
presented over two hundred petitions before the House adjourned. On the
1/j.th of March following, I). I). Barnard, of Xew York, presented a similar
petition to that of Air. Adams, which the now docile House disposed of
very placidly.

This inglorious defeat of slavery, in the case of Mr. .Adams, had tem
porary success in the case of Mr. Ciiddings. In the famous Creole case he
offered a set of propositions, somewhat similar, in reply to Mr. Calhoun's
formula, on the same subject matter in the Senate. lie was censured without
being permitted to defend himself, resigned, and in five weeks was in his
seat again to work woe on his enemies.

The Creole case stimulated a conspiracy to remove Mr. Adams from the
head of the committee on foreign affairs, and replace him by his colleague,
Caleb Gushing. On the collapse of the resolution of censure the four
southern members of the committee asked to be excused from further
service on it, because, as their note said, the House might not remove him,
and the}' were unwilling to serve with him. The House excused them with
a shout of acclamation. Others, in notes personally insulting to Mr.
Adams, refused to accept the vacant places; the notes were published, and a
gross breach of privilege perpetrated, but of this Mr. Adams took no notice.

5/o JOHN QUINCY AUAMS.

CHAPTER VI.

LAST YEARS OF MR. ADAMS' CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE— STRICKEN WITH DEATH
WHILE AT HIS POST— SUMMARY.

IT will be remembered that Mr. Adams made one of his strongest
speeches against the admission of Texas, in the earliest years of the
controversy, placing the whole subject in the clearest light. The agitation
never ceased. Annexation was inevitable. It was one of the sources of
strength to the growing anti-slavery sentiment of the north. The Tyler
administration patched up a hasty treaty of annexation, and General Jack
son, at the Hermitage, signed a letter urging its ratification by the Senate.
It was proposed to correlate Texas with Oregon, the northern boundary —
50° 40' — of which Great Britain disputed. Mr. Webster, secretary of state,
gave place to Mr. Upshur, who was soon after killed by the explosion of a
gun on the war steamer Princeton, and Mr. Calhoun was placed at the head
of the state department. The treaty of annexation was his work. Mr.
Benton killed that project in the Senate — beat it to death, southron and
slaveholder as he was.

The presidential election was at hand, and parties were divided on the
acquisition of Texas. On the defeat of the treaty, Mr. Tyler sent a mes
sage to the two houses, asking that Texas be annexed by joint resolution,
which question was debated to the end of the session, and in which Mr.
Adams bore a conspicuous part. In this condition of affairs, a presidential
election pending, Mr. Van Buren, the prominent candidate for democratic
nomination, wrote a sensible letter agairst the acquisition of Texas; and Polk
was nominated in his stead. The democratic cry of the campaign was :
"Polk, Texas, and the tariff of 1842," — passed by the whigs. Mr. Clay made
a speech at Raleigh, wrote a letter against Texas, and was nominated by
the wHigs. He wrote two more letters on Texas during the canvass, and
was beaten. Mr. Adams cordially supported Mr. Clay, as did some of the
few pronounced anti-slavery whigs. On the re-assembling of the House, a

LAST YEARS OF HIS CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE. 57 1

close canvass showed a majority of thirty against the annexation scheme
Mr. Adams had no confidence in the opposition of any democrat. On the
final vote in the House, February 28, 1845, the Senate annexation bill passed
by a vote of one hundred and thirty-two to seventy-six. A cannon on the
west terrace of the capital announced the victory to the city, which answered
with bonfires and revelry. That was the darkest hour ever seen on the west
ern continent for the cause of freedom and justice. The recoil against slavery
threw man\- strong men from the democracy into the ranks of its enemies,
among them John P. Hall, Preston King, and Brinkerhoof. Finally, Con
gress rejected the " Atherton gag" — the twenty- first rule was rescinded.
Against this Mr. Adams had steadily fought since its adoption. Steadily
the majority for it diminished. In 1842 it was but four; in 1843 it was
three ; in 1844, the battle over it raged for weeks, with doubtful result. At
the next attempt Mr. Adams' motion to rescind was not laid on the table,
by a vote of yeas eighty-one, and one hundred and four nays. On the final
vote his motion prevailed by one hundred and eight to eighty. It was a
victory — a great victor)', but ho\v barren. The next petitions for the aboli
tion of slaver)', were referred to the committee on the District of Columbia,
where they slept as profoundly as in the cavern of the twenty-first rule.

The next battle for the right of petition was over the election of the
speaker, mostly after Mr. Adams' departure. If men had a right to petition,
they had the right to be heard and decently answered, and coming from
the speaker's hand, that depended on the structure of the committees. Mr.
Polk announced to the Twenty-ninth Congress, the latest democratic pro
gramme: notice to Fngland to terminate the joint occupancy of Oregon,
a delivery of the whole, or war. The whigs were supine. To Mr. Adams
and the small band now by his side was it left to make head against it. The
Senate resolution of notice to Fngland came up in the Senate, February 5,
1846. Mr. Giddings took the floor, and declared that a war with Fngland
would add Canada as well as Oregon to the free north. \Yar with Fngland
meant emancipation. The black regiments of the British West Indies would
land on the helpless southern shores, and slave insurrection ana rapine fol
low. Mr. Adams followed in a speech equal to his old efforts, though now
enfeebled. He put forth his old doctrine — that under the war power, as a
means of war, aggressive or defensive, slaver}' could be abolished. This he
announced as earl}' as 1835; and he had brought it forward once or twice
since. On this occasion he declared himself in favor of holding the whole
of Oregon. The south recoiled with horror. Not long after, Great Britain
offered the forty-ninth parallel, and Mr. Polk made haste to accept it.

General Taylor was sent to take possession of Texas, passed into Mexico,
found General Am pud in and a Mexican arm}', and fought the battles of the
8th and 9th of Ma}'. Then followed the whole miserable war, lasting beyond
Mr. Adams, who. as counsellor and adviser, still kept his place at the head,

5/2 JOHN OUIXCY ADAMS.

though he now seldom mingled in debate. His last speech was made in
March, 1847. It was in reference to his old clients, the negroes of the
Amistad, who'had gone home. Mr. Giddings detected in an appropriation
bill — smuggled in by a Senate amendment — an item of fifty thousand dollars,
to pay Montez and Ruaz for the men whom the supreme court had decided
were not slaves, which rider he assailed on the floor of the House. It
aroused Mr. Adams to his old battle fury — the trumpet call to the old knight
in armor, and he flashed out with all his wonted vigor and wrath. Members
left their seats, reporters dropped their pens, and all gathered round him.
When he closed, the Senate amendment was rejected by the House unani
mously. It was the last speech of the "old man eloquent." He was to
linger for yet nearly a year, with impaired strength.

Fierce hater, warrior, and hard hitter though he was, and ever in strife,
yet intensely sincere and of immaculate purity of character and conduct, it
is not to be supposed that his better qualities were not recognized in all
these years, even by his enemies; none of whom, as it would seem, but pro
foundly respected while they hated him. In time this respect, in view of
his lone life and eminent service, came to be a reverence, which uncon-

sciously manifested itself in various striking ways. On one memorable
occasion he was enabled by his position, and the possession of qualities
which marked him as a leader and a ruler of men, to perform an eminent
service to the House itself, and to the country at large. It was an emer
gency in which overruling devotion to party had involved the House while an
inorganic body, and so, in parliamentary language, not a House — in a chaotic
condition, from which no opening was apparent, and the country was greatly
alarmed by it. Men whose memories cover forty-three years of political his
tory can vividly recall the New Jersey contested election case. The demo
cratic power was waning and that of the whigs increasing. The parties had
nearly reached a point of equilibrium in the House, and a few votes passed
from one party to the other would change the majority. The Constitution
and statutes were silent as to the method of organizing the House on the con
vocation of a new Congress. The usage was to leave the matter largely in
the hands of the clerk of the last House ; who was for all purposes out of
office, and had no real power in the premises. He made up the list of mem
bers-elect, and called the roll. Members whose terms held over took upon
themselves the power and duty of organizing the House. It had also been
a rule to recognize such claimants to seats, and such alone as came authen
ticated by the authorities of the state they claimed to represent. This was
a priina facie title, resting on more than usage. The Congressional elec
tion in New Jersey for 1838 was by general ticket. It was close. Both
parties claimed the victory; the state government was in the hands of the
whigs, and they gave the certificate and seal of election to the whig claim
ants. The democrats made such inferior showing as they could secure, and

LAST YEARS OF HIS CONGRESSIONAL SERVICE. 573

December, 1839, saw both parties at the capitol, claiming seats. The party
that secured them would control the House. The duty of the clerk was
plain. The whigs should have been placed on his roll. They alone had
evidence of election that he or anybody short of the organized House could
examine or go behind. He was a democrat, and chose to blunder in favor
of his party. He placed one whig on the list, and said, as to the five others
their seats were contested. He omitted them. When the House should be
rrganized it could deal with them. In the temper of the times, and the
importance of the matter involved, both of the great parties were in array,
ready to fight out the impending battle to any result. Acrimonious debate
ran through the first day. A motion was made to adjourn. The clerk said
he had no power to put it or do any act, save make and call the roll ; and
the members adjourned themselves by consent.

The next morning Mr. Garland, the clerk, whose re-election depended
on the success of his programme, undertook to read an explanatory note,
and the clay was spent in discussing his right to do that. He again declined
to put a motion to adjourn, and the members dispersed as before. The
next day was spent in vain wrangles, no light appearing from any quarter.
Ln this condition the thoughts and eyes of all men turned to Mr. Adams.
Leading men of both sides earnestly besought him to interfere and extricate
them. He was reluctant to mix in the disgraceful squabble, and nothing
but the gravest apprehension of possible consequences induced him so to do.
When for the first time he arose, on the 5th of December, his rising was
greeted as the advent of a superior power. "Fellow citizens — members-
elect of the twenty-sixth Congress! " was his address, with his back to Mr.
Clerk Garland, whom he excoriated before resuming his seat. He told the
House to organize itself. He then offered a resolution ordering the clerk to
call the members from Xe\v Jersey who possessed credentials from the
governor of the state. The puzzling cry went up, " How shall the question
be put?" "I will put it myself," was the prompt reply. A tumult of
applause greeted the declaration. The members recognized a man here.
Rhett, of South Carolina, moved that Williams, of North Carolina, be
chairman of the meeting. Williams substituted the name of Mr. Adams.
He was elected with a shout ; and Rhett and Williams conducted him to
the chair. Afterward Wise, of Virginia, addressed a speech of compliment
to him fpr his prompt response, " I will put the question myself." The
south behaved handsomely toward their great enemy on this occasion.
Even with Mr. Adams in the chair, with no more power than attaches to
the presiding officer of any informal body without rules, the struggle for the
control of the future House was long and bitter. The issue was decided
December i6th, by the election of R. M. T. Hunter, of Virginia, as speaker.
There was talk of a vote of thanks to Mr. Adams. He did not wish it. It
would have led to acrimonious debate, in the embittered feeling of the

574 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

democracy, who lost the speakership, with all its advantages, precursor of
the greater defeat so soon to follow.

At the best, the career of Mr. Adams was dreary. He performed his
tasks sternly, rather than cheerfully. There is found in his diary of 1835,
a list of the public men of that day, whom he regarded as personal enemies,
which included nearly all the most eminent of that time; to most of whom
he had been of service. His complaint was, that the best acts of his life
made him enemies, and subjected him to obloquy. His diary was the great
depository of his woes and enmities. He himself said that the last years of
his life were spent in paying for the success of his early career, brightened
as they were by several unconscious marks of confidence — of veneration by
the members of the House, though less striking than in the New Jersey case.
Mr. Adams feared a failure of health in 1833; m ^42 he thought the
ensuing session would be his last in the House. In March, two years later,
he drew a pitiful picture of his physical condition. November ipth, he was
struck with paralysis in Boston, but recovered. Three months later, when
he entered the House, all the members arose spontaneously ; business was
suspended ; his old seat surrendered, and the members conducted him to it.
Though punctual in attendance, he took no part in the debates. February
21, 1848, he was in his seat. At a little after I, as the speaker arose to put a
question, he was arrested by cries — "Stop! stop ! — Mr. Adams! ! " Those
near the old man thought he attempted to rise as if to claim the speaker's
attention. In an instant he fell unconscious. Members thronged about him.
The House adjourned. He was carried to the speaker's room, where he lay
in his last fieht. Some almost inarticulate words in the late afternoon were

heard and translated — "The last of earth." He passed quietly away early
in the evening of the 23d.

Mr. Adams performed much Congressional work not here referred to.
He contributed largely to the establishment of the Smithsonian institute ;
was industrious on committees ; managed a large correspondence ; received
throngs of visitors ; read three chapters of the Bible daily, and carried for
ward his colossal diary, the published portions of which, edited by his son,
constituted twelve large volumes. Beyond this he was an inveterate versi
fier, composing with facility. In addition to the literary work already referred
to, while in Berlin, he translated Wieland's Oberon, and later wrote a series
of letters of travel in Germany, which were published in London, and trans
lated into French, and also into German. While in the Senate he was also
professor of rhetoric at Harvard, and a volume of his lectures, long since
neglected, were printed in 1810. While minister to Russia he wrote a series
of letters, to his son, upon the Bible and its teachings, a pious work, as a
labor of love, otherwise not greatly esteemed. As we know, he com
menced a biography of his father, and wrote a poem descriptive of the
conquest of Ireland. In addition to his other labors, he delivered many

HIS DEATH — SUMMARY. 5/5

addresses ar,-d lectures. The following may be taken as a specimen of his
labors. He started from Boston one Monday morning to attend the opening
of Congress. That evening he delivered an address before the Young
Men's institute in Hartford, Connecticut, the next evening another to the
young men of New Haven. On Wednesday evening he lectured before a
New York lyceum. Thursday evening he delivered an address in Brooklyn.
Friday another lecture in New York ; and thence on to Washington to be
at the House the following Monday. Opposition to slavery by no means
absorbed his attention, or claimed his entire time. He kept abreast with his
time in the advance of science, and was familiar with later ideas of the newer
and younger men.

Like many strong natures, Mr. Adams was reverent. He was a pro
found worshiper, and regulated his life by the precepts of religion ; was by
constitution austere in his observances of them, never occasioning a suspicion
of his intense sincerity. Mentally, Mr. Adams was the more forcible as a
speaker. He was a fluent writer. It is said his manuscript showed few
erasures ; his style verbose, a little in the manner of pre-revolutionary times.
He had not the idiomatic simplicity and elegance of his father, nor had he
his father's wit and sparkle, though a master of sarcasm and invective. His
father was apt to indulge in fine philosophical generalization entirely foreign
to the younger, who had not a particle of humor, nor any conception of its
cause or effects. He could never see anything in Falstaff, nor his attend
ants, Bardolph and Pistol. In intellectual structure, as in person, he re
sembled his father, with more learning and less genius. In indomitable
will, unshrinking courage, energy, and perseverance, he was the equal of any
man in history, as in power of continuous, hard, dogged labor. Both father
and son will always be held up as embodiments of the essential life, spirit,
and mind, of the New England of their times. They could have been pro
duced nowheie else, or in no other period. In many respects the younger
was the more fortunate. Both rendered large measures of public service;
both as disinterestedly patriotic and pure in public and private morals
as any of the leading figures in history. The early part of John Q.
.Adams' life was fortunate, the last brilliant and illustrious ; yet there are
those who regard it on the whole as less satisfactory. Both were prudent
housekeepers, managing their private affairs with skill — family traits which
survive them — and both left handsome estates.

John Quincy Adams lies buried under the portal »f the church at
Quincy, where by his side his wife was laid four years later. No man in
American history in his lifetime was more maligned or so little appreciated.
As he recedes in the distance, and falls under the law of perspective, the
harsh, unlovely lines of his character, that gave tone to the malevolence of
his day, disappear, and he rises on the horizon more distinct and conspicu
ous, justly regarded as one of the greatest and most discerning of men.

576 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

While glimpses have been given here and there of the oratorical powers
of John Quincy Adams, no extended extract from any of his many public
addresses has been attempted. As illustrating his mode of thought, his
force of expression and patriotic sentiment, this brief sketch of his career
can be closed in no more fitting manner than the presentation of the fol
lowing extract from one of his best known public speeches:* "The
convention was held at Annapolis in September of that year. It was
attended by delegates from only five of the central states, who, on com
paring their restricted powers with the glaring and universally acknowl
edged defects of the confederation, reported only a recommendation for
the assemblage of another convention of delegates to meet at Philadelphia
in May, 1787, from all the states and with enlarged powers.

"The Constitution of the United States was the work of this conven
tion. But in its construction the convention immediately perceived that
they must retrace their steps, and fall back from a league of friendship
between sovereign states to the constituent sovereignty of the people ;
from power to right ; from the irresponsible despotism of state sovereignty
to the self-evident truths of the Declaration of Independence. In that
instrument the right to institute and to alter governments among men was
ascribed exclusively to the people — the ends of government were declared
to be to secure the natural rights of man ; and that when the government
degenerates from the promotion to the destruction of that end, the right
and the duty accrues to the people to dissolve this degenerate govern
ment and to institute another. The signers of the declaration further
averred that the one people of the United Colonies were then precisely in
that situation — with a government degenerated into tyranny, and called
upon by the laws of nature and of nature's God to dissolve that govern
ment and to institute another. Then in the name and by the authority
of the good people of the colonies, they pronounced the dissolution of
their allegiance to the king and their eternal separation from the nation of
Great Britain, and declared the united colonies independent states. And
here, as the representatives of the one people they had stopped. They
did not require the confirmation of this act, for the power to make the
declaration had already been conferred upon them by the people, dele
gating the power, indeed, separately in the separate colonies, not by
colonial authority, but by the spontaneous revolutionary movement of
the people in them all. . . .

"The convention assembled at Philadelphia had themselves no direct
authority from the people ; but they had the articles of confederation
before them, and they saw and felt the wretched condition into which
they had brought the whole people, and that the Union itself was in the
agonies of death. ... A constitution for the people and the distribution

" The Jubilee of the Constitution." Delivered in New York on April 30, 1839.

THE PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION.

577

of legislative, executive and judicial powers was prepared. It announced
itself as ihe work of the people themselves ; and as this was unquestiona
bly a power assumed by the convention, not delegated to them by the
people, they religiously confined it to a simple power to propose, and
carefully provided that it should be no more than a proposal until sanc
tioned by the Confederation congress, by the state legislatures, and by the
people of the several states in conventions specially assembled, by
authority of their legislatures, for the single purpose of examining and
passing upon it.

" And thus was consummated the work commenced by the Declaration
of Independence — a work in which the people of the North American
Union, acting under the deepest sense of responsibility to the Supreme
Ruler of the universe, had achieved the most transcendent act of power
that social man in his mortal condition can perform — even that of dis
solving the ties of allegiance by which he is bound to his country ; of
renouncing that country itself; of demolishing its government ; of institut
ing another government, and of making for himself another country in its
stead.

"And on that day, of which you now commemorate the fiftieth anni
versary on that thirtieth day of April, one thousand seven hundred and
eighty-nine, was this mighty revolution, not only in the affairs of our
country but in the principles of government over civilized man, accom
plished.

"The Revolution itself was a work of thirteen years, and had never
been completed until that day. The Declaration of Independence and the
Constitution of the United States are parts of one consistent whole,
founded upon one and the same theory of government, then new, not as a
theory, for it had been working itself into the mind of man for many
ages, and had been especially expounded in the writings of Locke, but
had never before been adopted by a great nation in practice.

"There are yet, even at this day, many speculative objections to this
theory. Even in our own country there are still philosophers who deny
the principles asserted in the declaration as self-evident truths ; who deny
the natural equality an inalienable right of man ; who deny that the peo
ple are the only legitimate source of power ; who deny that all just powers
of government are derived from the consent of the governed. Neither
your time nor perhaps the cheerful nature of this occasion permit me
here to enter upon the examination of this anti-revolutionary theory,
which arrays state sovereignty against the constituent sovereignty of the
people, and distorts the Constitution of the United States into a league of
friendship between Confederate corporations. I speak to matters of fact.
There is the Declaration of Independence, and there is the Constitution
of the United States — let them speak for themselves. The grossly

5/8 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

immoral and dishonest doctrine of despotic state sovereignty, the exclu
sive judge of its own obligations, and responsible to no power on earth or
in heaven for the violation of them, is not there. The Declaration says,
' It is not in me ! ' The Constitution says, ' It is not in me T '

l£B~ill -i Sorj, 2":.~ -

ANDREW JACKSON.

CHAPTER I.

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE.

NO ONE of all the men who have attained political prominence in
America, presents a character so difficult to describe by generaliza*
tion as does Andrew Jackson, seventh President of the United States.
He was everything in a measure; nothing throughout. One might call
him a great general, — if military success in a limited field could justify the
use of that adjective, yet the term calls for limitation in the light of facts ;
one might call him a demagogue, yet he was not altogether such; a Caesar,
did he not often startle us by some unexpected act of right and justice,
diametrically opposed to his own interest, only to anon upset our new theory
of disinterestedness and patriotism, by some high-handed and arbitrary
assumption, — some exhibition of personal pique, some irrational revenge.
He would cling to a bad policy, or a bad minister, in the face of the most
unquestionable proof, if his personal feeling were enlisted in behalf of the
man, or of the measure; he would reject good counsel and the wiser
course, with equal insistance if pique, or amour proprc moved him in such
a direction. He was a man, the appreciation of whom calls for a minute
personal knowledge, for a very careful study of the questions and issues of
the time, and for a separate and distinct examination of the influences which
determined his action in each matter which came before him, for the reason
that personal feelings and temporary influences were so far potent in deter
mining his course, as to set theory at defiance and apparently warrant the
student in assuming an almost complete lack of political principle.

S79

580 ANDREW JACKSON.

Jackson came from a family, and grew up amid an environment, most
unpromising for the production of a President, to say nothing of a well dis
ciplined thinker or a statesman. His father, Andrew Jackson, was an igno
rant Irish immigrant, who came to America in 1765, and settled in Mecklen
burg county, North Carolina, very near the line of South Carolina. He
brought with him a wife and family, but had no capital, and never obtained
a foothold upon the soil. Andrew Jackson, the son, was born March 15,
1767, within a few days of his father's death ; where he'was born, — on which
side of the line dividing North Carolina from South Carolina, .has been a sub
ject of disagreement among historians and biographers, but we have the best
of hearsay evidence; — that of Jackson himself, — for assigning South Carolina
as the scene of that event, he having so declared it in at least one proclama
tion, in letters, and in his will.

After the death of her husband, Jackson's mother abandoned her home,
and, according to the inference of one writer,* depended for a support very
largely during his childhood, upon the assistance of relatives scarcely less
poor than she. The details of that childhood are among the thousands
upon thousands of unrecorded annals of the poor. It was hard and bare ;
luxuries were scarcely missed, for they had never been known ; sometimes,
doubtless, there was actual scarcity of food and clothing, in the little cabin
of the poor Irish widow. Of book education there was little; of mental
discipline, in the true sense, less ; of refining influence, none. Go among the
common Irish squatters in any rural district where such can be found, and
you will see at work upon ragged, ill-kept, dirty urchins, the influences that
formed the habits and character of the seventh President. The first object of
every individual is to sustain life ; there is no respect for, or knowledge of
the amenities of society; little regard for the feelings or opinion of one who
has not the physical strength to give them sanction. In the absence of
regard for mental refinement and moral beauty, there grows up an inordinate
admiration for this brute force; a pricle in sustaining one's position not in the
forum, but in the arena; a spirit that may inspire a Jackson, but can never
produce an Adams or a Jefferson.

Nowhere in America was there more bitter feeling, during the war
of the Revolution, than in the primitive and rude community where Andrew
Jackson and his young brothers were growing up. Every man was a parti
san ; most were actually engaged upon one or the other side of the contest.
The deadly hatred of whigs for tories, and tories for whigs ; of neighbor for
neighbor, sometimes of brother for brother, quite obscured the original
cause of quarrel and made the feeling between the principal combatants
seem mild by comparison. The history of the repeated expeditions of the
British into the mountains of the Carolinas, their ill-founded hope for a gen-

* Life of Andrew Jackson, by William Graham Sumner.

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE. 581

eral uprising in their behalf, and the determined efforts to that end, has
already been told.* Andrew Jackson had at that time two brothers. Upon
one of these periodical visits of the British every effort was made to draw
the sturdy Irish boys into the ranks. However this might have otherwise
resulted, a single incident was sufficient to change the face of the whole
matter. The three boys were at the British camp, when an officer arro
gantly ordered Andrew to brush his boots; with the instinctive independ
ence and aversion to servility which even at that time had penetrated to
most unlikely quarters and among most unlikely people, Jackson refused;
a blow was his reward and another his answer ; the officer then drew his
sword, severely wounded the unarmed stripling, ordered himself and his
brothers into confinement, and the three were marched to Camden as pris
oners of war. Both his brothers died before the war was over; the warm
Irish heart of the lonely mother moved her, though she could do nothing
for her own boys, to aid others in as sad a plight, and she set out upon the
weary journey to Charleston, to offer her services as nurse for the American
prisoners there. Upon the way she died, and when Andrew obtained his
liberty he found himself absolutely alone in the world, — and all on account
of Great Britain. It is characteristic of the man, that, from that time, he
entertained a bitter personal hatred for everything British, as bitter and
implacable as if the war had been distinctly and solely directed at the
destruction of his kindred and the desolation of his home.

There is no survival of detail regarding his life at that time, — how he
supported himself or where he lived. All that can be asserted is that he
essayed the saddler's trade and, in the year 1/84, deserted it for the study
of the law. It is a common thing to encounter, in the pages of the world's
biography, stories of men who seemed consecrated in the cradle to great
ness ; who lisped in poetic numbers, who drilled their school-fellows in
arms, or who, when in knickerbockers, deserted the sports of their carnal-
minded fellows, to address imaginary senates and juries; men who chafed
under the narrow and sordid restraints of poverty and determined with
unnatural precocity, to tread the narrow and thorny path to greatness,
though feet might bleed and hands be torn and blistered.

Jackson was no such man. He did not exercise any great amount of
self denial ; he had none of the fire of aspiring genius ; he had no marked
talent for the law, and never practiced enough to test the limits of his abil
ity. His stubborn devotion to his own ideas and his blind partisanship
might have made him a successful advocate, — they are assuredly the dis
tinguishing characteristics of the ideal pettifogger, — but he had none of the
mental qualities of the broad and scientific lawyer. There were none of the
self-contained, studious, and philosophical qualities about Jackson, during the

*See Life of Washington; ante.

582 ANDREW JACKSON.

time of his law studies, that distinguish the budding days of great and well-
biographied men. He preferred a well contested cock fight, or a close
horse race, to the finest distinctions of the text writers ; and a decided pen
chant for the bar of the rustic tavern, drew him long and often from his
closet. In fact, he studied law because he believed he could make money
faster and easier as a lawyer, than in stitching traces or stuffing horse collars,
and, perhaps, because he saw in the law a means of attaining the still greater
ease and emolument of .official station. These words may sound somewhat
hard and unjust, but they represent the truth of history as nearly as it may
be gathered from the scanty records which exist. Sumner goes so far as to
say : "He never learned any law, and never, to the end of his life, had a
legal tone of mind ; even his admirer, Kendall, admits this. His study of
the law had no influence on his career, and no significance for his character,
except that it shows him following the set or fashion of the better class of
young men of his generation. If conjecture may be allowed, it is most
probable that he did not get on well with his relatives, and that he disliked
the drudgery of farming or saddle making."

The time was not far distant when Jackson was to exchange his rude
life and associations for those still more rough, in the farther west. In 1/88,
a friend of Jackson, John McNairy, was appointed judge of the superior
court of the western district of North Carolina, from which the state of Ten
nessee was later erected, and appointed Jackson prosecuting attorney. His
life in this half-savage community, though not in itself of great significance, is
worthy of more than passing notice as furnishing the second of a series of
formative influences, which combined to determine one of the strongest
and most anomalous characters in the history of America. Again to bor
row the ideas, though not the words, of Sumner : the condition of society
upon the frontiers was far from the best. The rude men who formed the
society, and about whose character and achievements, poets, novelists, and
historians of the imaginative school have united to cast a veil of false ideas,
were demoralized, if not debased. They encountered the rude forces of
nature in light array, and, surrendering the privileges of civilization, they
cast off in large degree, its wholesome restraints as well. Legitimate amuse
ment could not be obtained, and they turned from the arduous duties of the
day, to the gaming-table, the cock-pit, and the bar-room. The excitement
which busy men in the city draw from commercial and professional
struggles was lacking ; men crave stimulation as wild deer, salt, and these
men found it in the bottle. Intellectual exercise was usually beyond their
ability; always beyond their reach, and they found their interest in gossip;
every man's affair became public property and the subject of general discus
sion. The bare necessaries of life were easily obtained ; men ate game and
fish, and wore skins ; but money was lacking, and, taking advantage of the
easy confidence of the day, every man " coined false money from that cruci-

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE. 583

ble called debt." Cards, drink, debt, gossip, — what seed for quarrels!
Quarrels arose, and many of them. At first they were settled by contests
of physical strength. Then came the second wave of emigration; the
scum and off-casting of the east; rakes, spendthrifts, murderers, who were
more polished but infinitely less respectable than the pioneers. These men
brought more polite vices, and, save the mark, having no honor, a code of
honor ! They taught the rude frontiersman that it was not gentlemanly to
settle a quarrel with his hands, and the duello at once became a fixed insti
tution. Men were challenged for a smile and killed for a sneer; as always
among the ignorant, an imported fashion being adopted and carried beyond
its acceptance by lifelong devotees.

In this community the regular administration of justice by a court of
law, was a new and galling thing. The pistol and the bowie knife were
resorts so much more simple ; so much more gentlemanly ! To set the
authority of law in place and there maintain it was a very delicate and dif
ficult duty, and it largely devolved upon the prosecuting attorney. Had he
been a man of the cities, — a lawyer and a gentleman ; had he endeavored
to base his authority upon the sanction of his commission, and to enforce
respect for the law by terror of its penalties, he would have had his labor
for his pains, and it is more than likely would have suffered personal indig
nity or injury. Jackson was the man of all men for the place. Heshowred
his ne\v neighbors that he was as ready to drink, game, quarrel "even, on
due provocation to kill, as any of them. Thus he gained their respect" and
the friendship of many. They submitted to his official acts because he was
Andrew Jackson ; he made many and bitter enemies, but, when these
sought to drive him from the country for taking charge of collection cases,
they found his friends rallying to his support, and that these friends were in
a majority. He feared nothing and performed every duty with the most
inflexible determination. When he found himself peculiarly unpopular at
Nashville, and threatened with violence by his enemies there, he at once
removed his effects to that place and made it his home. And it may be
well to here say, that this act was characteristic of his policy through life.
He never encountered opposition that he did not become at once and une
quivocally the aggressor. The only means of self-justification he ever
tried, was retaliation, and he almost uniformly succeeded. These years of
arduous service in Tennessee gave Jackson his first taste of popularity;
taught him that the people were easier won by mastering than by courting
them, and so developed his naturally independent and inflexible habit, as to
make him the daring and arbitrary man whom the world knew at New
Orleans, in Florida, and at Washington.

Not many years after Jackson's removal to Tennessee occurred a series
of circumstances which cast a shadow over his domestic life, and had no
small influence in embittering his disposition, to say nothing of leading him

584 ANDREW JACKSON.

into many and serious quarrels. The house in which he boarded was that
of Mrs. Donelson, widow of a pioneer, who, early in the history of the terri
tory, lost his life in a skirmish with the Indians. Living in the same house
were Lewis Robards and his wife, the latter of whom was the daughter of Mrs.
Donelson. Robards was a man of extremely jealous temperament; he dis
trusted his wife, whether with reason we cannot know, nor is it profitable to
inquire. He had before accused her of specific infidelity, and repeated the
charge in connection with -the name of Jackson. The marriage had occurred
in Virginia, and there was at that time no divorce law in that state. Hence
Robards forwarded a petition to the legislature, praying that a divorce be
granted by special act, accompanying his petition with affidavits tending to
show that his wife was living in adultery with Andrew Jackson. This peti
tion was forwarded early in 1791 ; the legislature declined to grant it, but
passed an act authorizing the supreme court of Kentucky to try the issue
with a jury, and, in case the allegations were sustained, to grant a decree.
News of this action reached Jackson and Mrs. Robards in a distorted form,
and the two, supposing that a divorce had actually been granted, were mar
ried during the summer of 1791. Robards did not at once take advantage
of the Virginia enactment, but, in 1793, applied to the Kentucky quarter
sessions of Mercer county, Kentucky, and, there being no trouble in prov
ing the existing relations of Jackson and Mrs. Robards, was granted a
decree. When news of this came to Jackson in January, 1794, he made
Mrs. Robards his wife. There was doubtless a fault and a serious one.
Jackson, as a man and a lawyer, should have taken no verbal testimony
as evidence in so important a matter, and one involving so delicate a
thing as his wife's good name and honor; there was scandal and gossip
at the time, and more still when his exaltation made him a target for envi
ous attack. Having, however, committed a fault and placed a woman whom
he loved in a false position, he made the only reparation in his power.
Though she was his inferior at the time of his marriage, and vastly out of
her element as wife of a man prominent in national affairs, he clung to her
with tender devotion during thirty years of married life, and was as true to
her memory during the many years following her death and preceding his
own. His chivalrous attachment for her is one of the few gleams of senti
ment which adorn a life of stern practicality, bitter struggle, and passionate
prejudice. He knew but one punishment for the man who spoke slight
ingly of her ; that was death. His own position made him exceptionally
punctilious as to the treatment of other women, and probably in no other
administration since the American government was established, would it
have been possible for a mere social slight, like the refusal of the wives of
certain ministers and officials, to recognize the bride of a cabinet officer,
to be made a question of state, threaten to disrupt a cabinet, break off

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE. 585

political friendships of the President, and at last become almost a party issue,
as in the case of Mrs. Eaton (Peggy O'Neil).

Up to the month of December, 1796, Jackson's knowledge of the world,
or the polite portion of it which abides in cities, was limited to the experience
obtained during a visit to Charleston, made in the year 1783. Having
served during January, 1796, as a member of the convention which met at
Knoxville, and framed a constitution for the new state of Tennessee, and
that state having been admitted to the Union in June, 1796, against the
opposition of the federalists, he was, during the following autumn, elected
its first representative in Congress. Proceeding to Philadelphia to assume
his seat, he arrived at the time first above mentioned. The admission
of Tennessee was a federalist defeat; Jefferson was the representative of the
democratic-republican party, and Jackson was probably not only a Jefferson-
ian democrat by instinct and personal sympathy, but by reason of the
opposition of the federalists to the recognition of his state. Coming from
a rude frontier community, and little skilled in the arts of legislation, he
probably excited more curiosity than deference. When he took his seat the
presidential contest was at its height. As between Adams and Jefferson, he
had no hesitation in espousing the cause of the latter, and at this there is no
reason to be surprised. It was not, however, long before he showed the
first indication of the obstinate and fatuous partisanship which so often, in
after life, excited the hatred of his enemies and the commiseration of his
friends. When Adams had been elected, and a resolution of regret at the
retirement of Washington was offered in the House of Representatives,
Jackson was one of the twelve members who offered a gratuitous insult to a
great and good man, by voting in the negative. In the light of the present
day we can see that the financial and foreign policy, which called down the
hatred of the Jeffersonian democrats upon the federalists, and the hatred of
the unthinking minority of that party upon Washington, was in fact the
wisest and best, that could have been adopted, under the circumstances then
existing; even thcn.it was possible for a man not utterly blinded to the
truth, to see how even a course Washington steered between the somewhat
too radical policy of Hamilton and the unpractical theorizing of Jefferson;
how singly he labored for the good of his country in the best and most
permanent sense ; how he accepted praise, without exaltation ; misrepresen
tation- and abuse without irritation ; the insidious hints of monarchists with
contempt, and met the mad demands of the Gallic propaganda with patient
resistance.

A year after Jackson's election to the House of Representatives, the
death of Blount, of Tennessee, rendered vacant the senatorship from that
state, and Jackson was appointed his successor. He served in the Senate
only until April, 1798, when he resigned his seat. In the course of his
service, his vote reflected the opinion of Jefferson, opposing every provision

586 ANDREW JACKSON.

for possible war with France, and favoring the embargo. During the whole
course of his congressional service he appeared as the champion of but one
important measure, — that the indemnification of Tennessee for losses and
expenses in the Indian wars upon her borders. This he pushed to a suc
cessful issue, thus laying the foundation of a great and lasting popularity in
his own state.

It is evident that Jackson at that time cared little for office ; he might
have remained United States senator indefinitely, had he so chosen, and it is
difficult to ascribe his resignation to any cause unless to indifference, or to
financial trouble, and there is no evidence of the existence of the latter
at that time. Gallatin has left these words regarding his appearance in
those early days of his public life: " A tall, lank, uncouth-looking person
age, with long locks of hair hanging over his face and a queue down his back,
tied in an eel skin ; his dress singular, his manners and deportment that of
a rough backwoodsman." Jefferson, in 1824, expressed this recollection of
him : " When I was president of the Senate he was a senator, and he could
never speak on account of the rashness of his feelings."

Thus turning his back upon Philadelphia, Jackson was, in 1798,
appointed a judge of the supreme court of Tennessee, — a strong illustra
tion of the looseness of such selections. Never a good lawyer, no worse
man could have been found for a judge ; a partisan by nature, incapable of
looking at a question without taking sides ; utterly lacking in self-control,
and without the first spark of the judicial instinct,, his appointment was
indeed a commentary upon the social and legal standards of the day. As
an illustration of this unfitness, it may be stated that while Jackson was
upon the bench, he engaged in a bitter and unseemly quarrel with Governor
Sevier, of Tennessee. It began with childish jealousy between the two men ;
Sevier, an old politician, could ill brook the daily advancing popularity and
influence of Jackson, who was more than twenty years his junior. Various
influences combined to heighten this rancor and render it mutual, and only a
pretext was needed to make the quarrel a public one. Finally this came ;
the militia of Tennessee was to elect a major-general in 1801. Both Sevier
and Jackson were candidates, and the latter,

"... Who never set a squadron in the field,
Nor the division of a battle knew
More than a spinster,"

was successful. This was too much for Sevier's philosophy ; he was soon
after elected governor of the state ; immediately the two — the highest
executive and the highest judicial officer of Tennessee — engaged in a public
discussion and quarrel, because one had been chosen before the other, to
command the raw militia of the state! Each had his adherents, parties
were formed, and a collision actually occurred, which might well have
resulted fatally. Kendall, who is inclined to be a devotee of Jackson, says
that this contest contributed greatly to his political strength.

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE. 587

In 1804 he resigned his position upon the bench, and became a planter.
During his previous experience as a merchant, Jackson had become involved
by reason of the universal credit system. There was little money in the
state ; land speculation in its wildest form was upon the people ; real estate
values were inflated to the last point ; land became a currency; men paid for
sugar with land contracts, and gave deeds in exchange for garments.
Finally inflation was carried too far ; the market broke ; the backward swing
of the pendulum brought prices down to almost nothing, and men who
could not eat a quarter section, or wear a deed, were like to starve. Jack
son was one of the sufferers by this collapse, but his judgeship tided him
over the worst, and re-embarking in business, he soon cleared himself, and
was once more a free man. So soon as he had accomplished this, he gave
up his store, and devoted himself entirely to the care of his plantation.

Enough has already been said of Jackson's fiery and ungovernable
temper, and of the social ideas of his day, so that it excites no surprise to
read that lie fought as well as quarreled ; had he quarreled without fighting
he would have been deemed a braggart, not entitled to the respect of gen
tlemen. Already, in 1794, he had fought a duel with a fellow-lawyer named
A very, over no more serious matter than the usual professional sparring of
the court room. This did not result seriously. In 1806, however, he fought
a much more excusable duel, which was made the basis of political attack
and personal abhorrence of him during the remainder of his life. Charles
Dickenson made a remark referring to Jackson's marriage in a manner
injurious to his wife. A challenge followed, and was accepted. Each man
meant to kill his opponent. They fought with pistols, and at short range.
Jackson's aim was the truer; Dickenson fell mortally wounded, while his
bullet broke two of Jackson's ribs, weakening him for life. The affair was
a sad one in itself, and very unfortunate in its effect upon the survivor, both
personally and politically.

In 1805, Aaron Burr, in furtherance of his treasonable schemes of
empire, called upon Jackson and urged the latter to enter into an arrange
ment to furnish boats for the transportation of his expedition down the
Mississippi. Jackson was not a crafty man, and he seems to have been at'
first favorably impressed with Burr, and not entirely opposed to his project.
It is but fair to say, however, that he does not appear to have at all under
stood the full import and significance of the latter. His mind was of a cast
which delights in aggression and glories in conquest; he was, after all, ill
educated, little informed, and inexperienced, He lived, and had for years
lived, along the Mississippi, among people whose vital interests were cen
tered in the control of that river ; who regarded the Spaniards as standing
in the way of their unquestionable rights, and subject to the penalties of
such wrongful interference. He never found it easy to grasp an abstraction,
and the moral discriminations of politics were hard for him to understand. He

588 ANDREW JACKSON.

saw no reason to favor the Spaniard, and, as Burr very wisely refrained from
making him the confidant of his ulterior schemes, he was not averse to the
idea. Later there dawned upon his mind the idea that Burr's project
embraced the plan of an independent empire ; even then he found it hard to
relinquish interest in so tempting a plan, and felt inclined, to borrow a vul
gar illustration, emulating the short-sighted sportsman, to so shoot as to
" hit it if it were a deer and miss it if it were a calf; " to give his covert sup
port until he found treason actually lurking behind; then to be in such a
position that he might safely and speedily withdraw. Yet there is no doubt
that had he at first suspected treason, he would have had none of it, and,
when it was fairly forced upon his belief that Burr was not so disin
terested as he chose to appear, there was little delay in his action. It
seems unquestionable that Burr, while apparently seeking only transporta
tion, had much deeper schemes regarding Jackson; he made systematic
efforts to engage such men as he in his plans. Particularly did he do so, if
he believed them to have any cause of discontent against the government.
He worked upon Wilkinson, Truxton, and Eaton, on this ground, and,
knowing Jackson to have applied to Jefferson for the governorship of New
Orleans, and been rebuffed, he relied upon that fact to influence him.

Wilkinson, who appeared as Burr's accuser, was in command at New
Orleans ; for this and some other reasons, Jackson cordially hated him, and
this fact, taken in connection with an undoubted soreness toward Jefferson,
prevented his ever looking coolly and dispassionately at the matter of Burr's
trial, and, even years later, he seemed to feel that there was injustice some
where in the matter, though where he could scarcely tell.

But one more episode remains to be related before passing to the sec
ond period of Jackson's career. Let it be in the words of Sumner: "The
next we hear of him, however, he is committing another act of violence.
Silas Dinsmore, the Indian agent, refused to allow persons to pass through
the Indian country with negroes, unless they had passports for negroes. It
was his duty by law to enforce this rule. There were complaints that
negroes ran away or were stolen. This regulation, however, interfered with
the trade in negroes. This trade was then regarded as dishonorable. It has
been charged that Jackson was engaged in it, and the facts very easily bear
that color. He passed through the Indian country with some negroes,
without hindrance, because Dinsmore was away, but he took up the quarrel
with the agent, and wrote to Campbell to tell the secretary of war that, if
Dinsmore was not removed, the people of west Tennessee would burn him
in his own agency. There is a great deal of fire in the letter, and not a little
about liberty and free government. Dinsmore was suspended, and things
took such a turn that he lost his position and was reduced to poverty. Par-
ton gives a story of an attempt by Dinsmore, eight years later, to conciliate
Jackson. This attempt was dignified, yet courteous and becoming. Jack-

BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND EARLY POLITICAL SERVICE. 589

son repelled it in a very brutal and low-bred manner. Dinsmore did not
know until 1828, when he was a petitioner at Washington and the papers
were called for, that Jackson had been the cause of his ruin."

No man in the world ever had a more logically illogical, or consistently
inconsistent development than did Jackson. The canons of taste of the
Waxhaw settlement, where his youth was passed ; the code of manners of
early Tennessee ; the disregard even of law, when it tended to his inconven
ience, were at times as evident during his second presidential term, as
when he wantonly ruined poor Dinsmore; when he banished the French
from New Orleans, and hanged inoffensive non-combatants in Florida. To
understand the vagaries of the President, one needs but to read the history
of the man.

ANDREW JACKSON*

CHAPTER II.

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.

r I ^HIS work has now brought the life of Jackson in meagre outline to
the point where he was to change from civil to military employment.
It would be pleasant and profitable to go more minutely into the relation of
incidents — especially profitable for the reason that few prominent men have
ever been so largely influenced by daily experience. Some men seem to be
evolved by natural processes, by thought and study; and would develop to
greatness in a monastery or a cave. Others are formed from without, by
the force of circumstances and the attrition of events. Jackson belonged
to the latter class ; he was an a posteriori man. It is, however, only possible
to touch here and there a salient point in his earlier life, selecting, as far as
possible, those which are characteristic of the man, and typical of the
influences which combined to form the rugged outlines of his character.

When Madison, having for four years struggled with the policy left him
by Jefferson, until the United States had become an object of contempt
abroad, and the administration had earned the displeasure even of its own
party at home, — when, after all this, as a condition for re-election, Madison
yielded to those who demanded a stronger government, war was regarded
as inevitable. When came the declaration of war, Jackson at once offered
his service with that of two thousand five hundred volunteers. It was con
sidered that the enemy was likely to make New Orleans an objective point,
and Jackson moved in that direction, at the same time assuring the secre
tary of war, that neither he nor his men had any constitutional scruples, and
that they were prepared to push the campaign to any extremity, even to
the planting of the American flag at St. Augustine.

Reaching Natchez, Jackson opened his campaign by a quarrel with his
old enemy, General Wilkinson, upon a question of rank. Thomas H. Ben-
ton served under Jackson and, thinking his commander in the wrong, so
declared, thus producing a breach which was never fairly healed. Some one

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 59!

said, during Jackson's lifetime, that, if he met an enemy at the gate ol
heaven, he would keep St. Peter with the latch in his hand, while he 4t had
it out." This rencontre left Jackson in a frame of mind none too amiable,
and his temper was not sweetened by the fact that he received orders from
the war department that, as no attack upon New Orleans was immediately
apprehended, he should disband his troops and dismiss them to their homes.
He was eager for action, and the order was in itself a sore disappointment.
Then, too, no provision was made for pay, rations, or transportation, and
this careless dismissal of his troops, so far from their homes, enraged him.
He did not long hesitate as to his course, but pledged his own credit for
boats and supplies, and kept his organization until he reached the district in
which his troops had been raised, then disbanded them. This was probably
an act of impulsive generosity on his part, yet it could not have served him
more admirably, had he been a Cajsar. The men who formed his com
mand never forgot this kindness, and it laid the first substantial foundation
for the unbounded and unthinking popularity which still survives, and the
almost superstitious love and veneration in which his name is to-day held by
a large section of the American people. The war department later ordered
that the men receive pay and rations, and Thomas H. Benton, overlooking
his quarrel, procured an appropriation from Congress, reimbursing Jackson.
This promising overture for a reconciliation, was rendered ineffective by sub
sequent events. Jesse Benton, a brother of Thomas, became involved in a
quarrel ; a challenge and duel followed, and Jackson acted as second of Ben-
ton's antagonist. From this circumstance gossip arose ; Thomas Benton made
some injurious remark about Jackson, and the latter publicly threatened to
horsewhip him. The three, Jesse and Thomas Benton, and Jackson, met in
a hotel in Nashville ; words led to blows, blows to shots, and Jackson retired
from the scene with a bullet in his shoulder. Thus was another violent act
added to the list which would at this da}- hopelessly ruin a politician, if it
did not earn him, instead of office, the punishment of the law.

Short!}' after the rencontre with the Bentons, and while Jackson's
wound still confined him to his bed, came information of the massacre of
whites at Fort Mims, Alabama, which began the Creek war. Tecumseh, the
able and wily chief, had determined upon allying the Indians for a general war
upon their common enemy. The beginning of the war of iS i 2 gave him not
inspiration or incentive, but opportunity. He saw in it the chance of unit
ing the Indians from Canada to the Gulf, and, either by alliance with Eng
land, or by an independent movement, while the Americans were engrossed
in the contest with their civili/ed enemy, sweep them back, and recover the
country which they occupied. Tecumseh's death prevented the forming of
an alliance or the waging of a common war, but the Creeks, by their mas
sacre at Mims, began a war, serious in its immediate effects, and which prom
ised disastrous results for the future. Alabama was almost deserted by

592 ANDREW JACKSON.

settlers ; Georgia, Tennessee, and the Carolinas were alarmed, and immedi
ate preparations were made for aggression and defense.

Jackson chafed in his sick-bed that he could not at once take part in the
enterprise; he concerted with General Cocke, the junior major-genera)
of the state, the measures to be taken in the emergency, and, at the
earliest moment, joined his forces in the field. The campaign, like every
extended enterprise, attempted with pioneer militia — was attended by the
double difficulty of defeating the enemy, and of keeping coherent a raw,
undisciplined, insubordinate and homesick army. Sumner has been quoted
as saying some severe things concerning Jackson ; he gives him much credit
for the conduct of this war, saying: " . . . . The character of the
commander was all important to such an army. On three occasions Jack
son had to use one part of his army to prevent another part from marching
home, he and they differing on the construction of the terms of enlistment.
He showed very strong qualities under these trying circumstances. He
endured delay with impatience, but with fortitude, and without a suggestion
of abandoning the enterprise, although he was in wretched health all the
time. He knew how to be severe with them, without bringing them to open
revolt, and he knew how to make the most efficacious appeals to them.
In conduct of movements against the enemy, his energy was very remarkable.
So long as there was an enemy unsubdued, Jackson could not rest, and could
not give heed to anything else. Obstacles which lay in the way between
him and his unsubdued enemy, were not allowed to deter him. This rest
less and absorbing determination to reach and crush anything hostile, was
one of the most marked traits in Jackson's character. It appeared in all his
military operations, and he carried it afterward into his civil activity."

Jackson justified every military movement by making it successful;
men hastened to enlist under him, because they deemed him invincible; his
name went out through the United States with a new significance and a new
eclat. He, hanged a man for a technical offense, in a case where clemency
might not have been amiss; his army but respected him the more; the odd
affection they had for the man, who was their master as well as their general,
was not one whit lessened.

He defeated the enemy at Tohopeka, Alabama; he followed him to
the Hickory Ground and the Holy Ground, near the junction of the Coosa
and the Tallapoosa rivers. The savages believed no white man could follow
them to this Holy Ground, deeming it a charmed place of refuge. They
found their mistake ; Jackson followed them hotly, cruelly ; they were
beaten on the Hickory Ground; driven from the Holy Ground ; the surviv
ors fled into Florida, and the war was over. Fort Jackson was built on the
Hickory Ground, and the good behavior of the Creeks was assured, for a
time at least. The Tennessee militia was dismissed April 10, 1814, after a
campaign of only seven months, which had contributed very largely to the

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 593

reputation of General Jackson, who would else have remained, in the esti
mation of the country, nothing more than a prominent local politician and a
leading militia commander.

As a result of the new recognition, Jackson was, on the 2 1st day of
May, 1814, appointed a major-general in the army of the United States,
with command of the army of the south, and established his headquarters
at Mobile, as there was renewed fear that either that place or New Orleans
would be attacked by the British. The enemy did, in fact, soon appear,
and took post at Pensacola, thus raising, at the very outset of the southern
campaign, the question of the relations of Spain to the combatants. Pen
sacola was within Spanish territory, and Spain was ostensibly a neutral, yet
by thus giving harbor to the enemies of the United States, she seemed
almost to invite retaliation. Jackson's personal feelings were opposed to any
consideration of Spanish rights; he only wished a pretext such as was then
furnished, to move against Spain as an enemy. Mis army was, however, a
small one, and very ill supplied with the necessaries of war. Hence he
curbed his impatience, long enough to send north, representing his own
condition and the state of affairs, and requesting of the secretary of war
reinforcements and instructions. That was the darkest time of the war;
the British troops had even then captured the city of Washington, and
destroyed the public buildings; neither reinforcements nor instructions came,
though the secretary of war wrote a letter in which he told Jackson that
before any violation of the neutrality of Spanish territory, it must be clear
that British occupancy of Florida was with the privity and consent of
Spain. This letter Jackson never received.

On the i 5th of September, the British, as a preliminary of an assault
upon Jackson's main position, attacked Fort Bouyer, upon Mobile point,
but were repulsed with loss, retreating to Pensacola. This was enough for
Jackson, who at once advanced upon the latter place, with three thousand
men ; he attacked it with characteristic energy, and with his usual success.
The Spanish surrendered the forts held by them, while the English blew up
their fort and departed. His double object, — the dislodgment of the British
and the punishment of the Spanish, being thus accomplished, Jackson made
a rapid retrograde movement to Mobile, fearing a second attack at that
point. Not remaining long, he removed his army and his headquarters to
New Orleans, where he arrived December 2, 1814.

The condition of affairs at that point was especially discouraging; fhere
were no arms, no supplies; no public spirit. Not the slightest preparation
had been made for defense. Jackson's first act was to proclaim martial law;
his next, in logical sequence, to impress men, — soldiers and sailors — arms,
stores, and whatever private property he deemed necessary for the purposes
of war. During the month of December the British appeared upon the
coast, as expected. Had they come but a few days sooner, — or had they

594 ANDREW JACKSON.

found opposed to them, a man less active and indefatigable, New Orleans,
the key to the south, would inevitably have fallen into their hands. Their
first movement was to attack, with their flotilla of forty-three vessels, the
five American gunboats on Lake Borgne. These were captured, almost as
a matter of course. Then an advance was begun toward the city. Jackson
adopted the policy that ruled him, in civil and in military affairs, throughout
his life; that of aggression. On the 22d day of December he threw for
ward a force of two thousand men to attack the enemy. The first collision
occurred on the morning of the 23d, at a point about nine miles below the
city. The British first had two thousand five hundred men in action, but
soon increasqd this number to nearly five thousand. The battle was an
extremely hot one, and when, after nearly two hours of close fighting, the
American force was withdrawn to its works, five miles nearer the city, it was
with a decided advantage. The British loss in this action was fcur hundred
killed, wounded, and prisoners; that of the Americans twenty-four killed,
one hundred and fifteen wounded, and seventy-four prisoners. After the
retirement of the Americans the enemy advanced and entrenched within
easy shot of their works, and a tremendous artillery duel followed, which,
like every rapidly succeeding incident of the short contest in that immediate
quarter, seemed to be almost miraculously favorable to the Americans, the
British works being battered almost into ruins, while those behind which lay
Jackson's men, constructed as they were, of mingled earth and cotton bales,
were scarcely injured. On the 8th of January, 1815, the English made a
general assault upon the American works. Under Jackson's orders his men
reserved their fire until the enemy was quite upon them ; then fired a well
aimed and deadly volley from their rifles, which threw the enemy into hope
less confusion, compelled his retirement, and won the battle. The British
lost two thousand killed, wounded, and missing, including the three senior
officers of the army ; Jackson lost but seven killed and six wounded.

Thus ended the posthumous battle of New Orleans, in many respects an
anomaly in warfare: a decisive battle, it was won after the conclusion of a
peace ; the victors were less in number than the vanquished ; they escaped
almost without loss, while the carnage in the ranks of the enemy was terri
ble ; they were raw, undisciplined levies, commanded by a_ man of the
smallest experience, and arrayed against veterans fresh from victory over
the greatest of soldiers, under the command of the grand old " Iron Duke."
No one had dared hope for a victory in the south ; succeeding defeats, — the
loss of Detroit; the sacking of Washington ; the blockading of the coast,
had accustomed the people to disaster, and the news from New Orleans,
coming almost simultaneously with the tidings of the peace, created a revul
sion, and there can be little doubt that the majority of the people in the
United States were glad that the tardy announcement of the result at Ghent,

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 595

did not come in time to prevent the complete and humiliating overthrow of
the British arms.

In New Orleans the enthusiasm at the result was of the wildest ; the
mercurial French, so newly brought into the American family, had little
direct interest in the war, but, in common with the Spanish, had an inherited
grudge against England, and felt a humiliation at the defeat of their demi
god, Napoleon, which assured their sympathy with Jackson, and their
delight at his success. Upon his return to the city he was given a welcome
that would have delighted the heart of Cajsar, and perhaps to this, as much
as to the intoxication of victor}", was due his subsequent arbitrary and ill-
advised action. He was wise in maintaining, as he did, an attitude of vigi
lant preparation. He not only continued, but strengthened, his organization.
He could not know that the British would be content to accept their defeat
as decisive ; he feared they might attempt, by a sudden attack, to change
their willows to bays, and he bent every energy to the task of bringing his
defensive disposals to the best possible condition. In his intent he was
quite right; his means were less adequate. His mind was inc- pable of mi
nute distinction in matter of motive. He did not give due weight to the fact
that the people of New Orleans were aliens in everything but the legal obli
gation which resulted from the purchase of Louisiana. Differing in blood,
language, religion, traditions, and social tone from the remainder of the
American people; knowing little and caring less about the cause of quarrel
between England and the United States, no great degree of active enthu
siasm could be expected of them, and, so long as they did not obstruct the
operations of the American arm}', they should have been acquitted of fault.
Jackson could not recogni/e the possibility of indifference ; every man who
\v is not with him, he conceived to be against him. While in the immediate
presence of war, the French had waived the special privileges and immuni
ties guaranteed them for twelve years by the treat}' of transfer; the}' had
housed the arm}', contributed to its sustenance, and many of them served
in its ranks. When, the battle being fought, and the enemy withdrawn,
they found the irksome restrictions of martial law, and the even more irk
some demands of military support and service continued, many of them
pleaded their nationality, and claimed their immunities as Frenchmen.
Jackson regarded this as an evasion of common duty; he had all the spirit
of Louis ic Grand, expressed in the words " f ctat cst mot" ; laws, treaties,
even constitutions, lost their binding force over his mind, and often over his
acts when they clashed with his inclination or thwarted his plans. Conse
quently, he was arrogant, overbearing, and oppressive.

In September, 1814, there had been a mutiny among the American
militia, two hundred of whom deserted in a body, and set out for their
homes. Most of these afterward returned, some under compulsion, others
voluntarily. Six of the men who had been most prominent in fomenting

59^ ANDREW JACKSON.

the revolt were tried by court martial and sentenced to death. This sen
tence was carried into effect by the order of Jackson, on the 2ist day of
February. On the i8th of that month Edward Livingston returned from
an embassy to the British commander, on board the fleet. He brought with
him news of the treaty of Ghent, received, it is true, from a British source,
but bearing at least a presumption of truth. This announcement was not
sufficient to excuse any neglect of the strictest precautions of war, as it
might have been simply intended as a cover for some bold coup de main, but
it not only excused, but demanded, a modification of Jackson's course
toward the citizens of New Orleans, and the reprieve of the six homesick
militiamen who were executed three days later. The only justification of
punishing desertion by death, is the necessity of preserving the discipline of
an army in the face of an enemy, and the clemency of the executive would
doubtless have commuted the sentence of these men, had Jackson permitted
it to be invoked.

Jackson did not, however, in the least alter his policy by reason of this
Views ; on the 28th day of February he issued an order, commanding all
who had certificates of French nationality to leave the city and go to Baton
Rouge, on or before the 3d day of March, insisting that he would have no
one within its limits who was not under obligations to assist in its defense.
He had the grace, however, to alter his mind, and, on the 8th of March,
rescinded the order, except as to the French consul. On the 3d day of
March, one Louaillier contributed to a French newspaper an article in which
he made public the British report as to the treaty of Ghent, and made it
the basis of a criticism of Jackson's order of February 28th, and a demand
that civil law be replaced. Jackson was infuriated by this publication, and
caused the editor of the paper to be arrested and brought before him ; the
latter, to save himself, revealed the name of his contributor, and Louaillier,
who during the continuance of hostilities, had been a warm and valuable
advocate of active defense, was arrested and placed in confinement. Judge
Hall, of the United States district court, upon the application of friends of
Louaillier, granted a writ of habeas corpus. On the 6th day of March came
a courier from Washington, bearing news of the peace. By some oversight
he did not bring the announcement in what Jackson deemed an official form,
and in spite of absolute moral certainty as to the truth of his statement, the
commander, blinded by personal feeling and deaf to reason, refused to
recognize him, and, on the same day, organized a court martial for the trial
of Louaillier. To this he caused to be presented a list of formal charges.
On the same day he sent an officer to arrest Judge Hall, and to compel the
clerk of the court to surrender the original habeas corpus, which, as a por
tion of the public record, was especially within the protection of the gov
ernment. The court martial struck out every charge against Louaillier
except one of illegal and improper conduct, and acquitted him upon that.

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.

Jackson was even more indignant at a court martial which dared disagree
with him, than at the prisoner which it was called upon to try. With char
acteristic inconsistency he discharged his militia on the 8th, deeming
the information received sufficient to warrant him in so doing; yet he sent
Judge Hall out of the city under an escort, discharging him four miles from
its limits, and re-committed Louaillier to confinement, not releasing him
until came the formal documentary announcement of the peace.

On the 2 1st day of March, Jackson was cited by the United States
court to show cause why he should not be punished for contempt, in dis
obeying the orders of the court, in wresting from it an original document,
.uul in arresting and imprisoning the judge. He declined to make any rcg-
alar and formal defense, — as, indeed, how could he ? — and was fined oi.e
thousand dollars. Some persons resident in New Orleans, who had not felt the
weight of his hand, offered to pay this fine, but he preferred to discharge it
Himself. It was a just punishment, only objectionable in that it was not
sufficiently severe. There was little u.son for the arrest of Louaillier in
the first instance, but this might have been excused <-n the ground of the
necessary discretion of a commander administering martial law. When the
duties of an officer are thus discretionary he is, however, in a manner held
to stricter accountability than if acting under definite instructions; the
notice of the peace received by Jackson trom the courier was sufficient to
Impose upon him the duty of restoring Louaillier to his liberty, replacing
the judge in authority, and obeying the mandates of the court, even had
l.is previous action been defensible. It was reserved for John Tyler, the
most insignificant and farcical President of the United States, to recommend
the remitting of this fine and refunding it to Jackson. This measure was as
arrant a piece of political juggling as was ever attempted. Congress was
then excellently constituted to receive such a proposition with favor, and in
1844 the sum of 82,700, being the amount of the fine with accrued interest,
was extracted from the treasury and paid to Jackson. Dallas, who was
secretary of war during the New Orleans campaign, wrote Jackson a letter in
which he expressed the surprise of the President at the reports of his actions
which had reached Washington, and called for particulars and an explanation.
The war was, however, over ; the joy at the peace, and the enthusiasm
regarding Jackson, the victorious general, were too much for this never very
vigorous inquiry, and it never developed to results.

The war being over Jackson replaced New Orleans in the possession of
its autonomy, and set out for Nashville, his home. At that place he was
met with the utmost enthusiasm, which showed itself in a formal reception
and a public meeting in the court house. This enthusiasm was only more
emphatic than that shown at other points. In many states legislative reso
lutions of approval and thanks were passed, and Congress took its cue, pass
ing similar resolutions and voting a gold medal to Jackson, in commemora-

598 ANDREW JACKSON.

tion of the victory at New Orleans. Called to Washington, he was accoided
public honors at every important place upon the way. If ever the actions
of man can be placed beyond cavil and criticism by the popular approval of
the hour, Jackson is entitled to the expunging of his foolish abuse of oower
in New Orleans from the record of his case.

This visit to Washington was made in the autumn of 1815, and its
object was to consult as to the peace footing of the army. As an index of
the extent of the popularity which a single victory had won for a man who
but a few weeks before had been little known beyond the borders of the
new state of Tennessee, it is interesting to note that, so early as the time of
this visit to Washington, — in 1816, Jackson was named as an available can
didate for the presidency, and it is still more interesting to note that this
suggestion was received and considered, though made by the traitor, Aaron
Burr, then living in retirement at New York city, only gaining his liberty
by the indulgence of the government, and his own insignificance. The fol
lowing quotations will show the tenor of the matter. The first is from a
letter written by Burr to his son-in-law, ex-governor Allston of South Caro
lina, under date of November 15, 1815: "Nothing is wanting," says he,
" but a respectable nomination before the proclamation cf the Virginia cau
cus, and Jackson's success is inevitable. Jackson is on his way to Washing
ton. If you should have any confidential friend among the members of
Congress from your state, charge him to caution Jackson against the per
fidious caresses with which he will be overwhelmed at Washington." On
the i ith day of December, Burr wrote to Allston, saying that, since his last,
" things are wonderfully advanced ; there wrill require a letter from yourself
and others, advising Jackson what is doing — that communications have
been had with the northern states, requiring him only to be passive, and
asking from him a list of persons to whom you may address your letters."
Colonel Allston's reply to this second letter was written February 16, 1816,
and informs Burr that his communication was duly received in January ;
he adds: "too late, of course, had circumstances been ever so favorable to
be acted upon in the manner proposed. I fully coincide with you in senti
ment, but the spirit, the energy, and the health necessary to give practical
effect to sentiment are all gone. I feel too much alone ; too entirely uncon
nected with the world to take much interest in anything." The advocacy
of Burr was, fortunately for Jackson, a covert one. It is not apt to assist
the cause of any man, if it be publicly known that the devil is retained as
his counsel, yet enough is seen in these glimpses of the political manipula
tion of 1815, to show that the embryo Jackson movement was not regarded
as beyond the hope of a happy issue, and it is certain that never, from 1816
to 1828, was Jackson without a skilful and determined following of men who
were devoted to the plan of making him President. He was well satisfied
with the nomination of Monroe, which he would have much preferred to that

TO THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS.

599

of Madison in 1808, but he was soon called to the south, and engrossment
in his duties as commander of the department forbade his taking an active
part in the campaign. Most important of these duties was the negotiation
of a treaty with the Indians of the southern states, which resulted in the reces
sion by them of certain lands surrendered at the close of the Creek war, but
given up by the government upon the representation of the Chickasaws that
the treaty was injurious and unjust to them. The fact that this modification
by the administration of one of his treaties, was carried out by Crawford as
secretary of war, formed the basis of one of the inveterate and unchangeable
hatreds which marked Jackson's life, and this fact was sufficient, had other
motives been lacking, to insure his adherence to Monroe. It was one of his
characteristics, that he would support a stranger to injure an enemy, with
as much energy as he would support a friend to gratify himself.

It was at this period of Jackson's life that there appeared a man who,
acting always in the dark and beneath the surface, probably did more to
advance him to the presidency and to shape his policy after his election than
any other. This person was William B. Lewis, a neighbor and intimate
friend of Jackson, and husband of one of Mrs. Jackson's nieces. He was a
very singular man ; of his personal life and ambitions we know little or
nothing. He seemed to confine the latter to pushing Jackson into power,
and managing him afterward. He was a subtle and far sighted man ; he
could draw a letter or message that would condense a whole system of
political philosophy in a few lines, or, if occasion demanded, could cover
pages with graceful and specious platitudes, sufficient to deceive any but a
careful analyst, without in fact making one definite and tangible declara
tion. There will hereafter be sufficient occasion to speak of this wily prime
minister of the "kitchen cabinet"; it is now enough to explain his first dis
coverable connection with Jackson's public life. In October, 1816, a letter
purporting to be from the pen of Jackson was forwarded to Monroe, urging
the appointment of William B. Drayton, of South Carolina, to be secretary
of war. The object of this letter, which was written by Lewis, is impossi
ble to discover, unless we are content with the explanation that Lewis had
already begun the manufacture of capital for Jackson, in which he was later
so largely and profitably engaged. Drayton was even-thing that Jackson
was not, — a member of the South Carolina aristocracy ; a polished and
fastidious gentleman, and, above all, a federalist. In after years Jackson
declared that he did not know Drayton in 1816, and it is quite probable he
did not himself fully appreciate the import of the letter when he wrote it.
Two apparently incidental features of the communication did good service
for Jackson in 1824, and had no little effect in 1828. The first of them was
the declaration that, had he (Jackson) been in command of the eastern
department in 1815, he would have hanged the leaders of the Hartford con
vention ; the second, the advice to Monroe to cease the proscription of the

COO ANDREW JACKSOI4.

federalists as such, and to distribute offices among the good men of both
parties, in a spirit of conciliation. This latter is very amusing in the light
of history, and there is no question that Lewis, then as later, caused Jack
son, for political effect, to subscribe a piece of arrant and deliberate hypoc
risy. Drayton was not appointed. Monroe wrote Jackson acknowledging
the abstract truth and justice of his propositions, but urging political neces
sity as an excuse for keeping the loaves and fishes for republican consump
tion. The letter fell into oblivion, from which it would probably never have
emerged, had the Jackson propaganda not made artful use of it in later
years, to secure the votes of federalists, and this was doubtless its sole raisoii
d' ctrc. The following in an extract from the letter:

"Your happiness and the nation's welfare materially depend upon the
selections which are to be made to fill the heads of departments. Every
thing depends on the selection of your ministry. In every selection party
and party feelings should be avoided. Now is the time to exterminate that
monster called party spirit. by selecting characters most conspicuous for
their probity, virtue, capacity, and firmness, without regard to party, you
will go far to, if not entirely, eradicate those feelings which, on former
occasions, threw so many obstacles in the way of government ; and perhaps
have the pleasure and honor of uniting a people heretofore politically divided.
The chief magistrate of a great and powerful nation should never indulge in
party feelings. His conduct should be liberal and disinterested, always bear
ing in mind that he acts for the whole and not part of the community."
How closely this advice was followed by Jackson himself, when he came to
the presidential chair, future pages will illustrate.

TACKsON IN FLORIDA.

CHAPTER III.

JACKSON IN FLORIDA— HIS PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN AND ELECTION.

""*HK irritation of Jackson against Crawford has already been mentioned;
it was no doubt reciprocal, and during the year 1817, led Jackson
into a series of hast}' and ill-considered acts, such as constantly re-appear in
the story of his life. Crawford was secretary of war in Madison's cabinet
and, although he had been a strong opponent of Monroe in caucus, was con
tinued in that office until he received the treasury portfolio in the cabinet of
the latter. During his administration of the war office, he on several occa
sions gave orders to general officers ot the southern departments, without
consulting Jackson, and, as a matter of course, this assumption of direct
control often deranged the plans of the commander, and served to vex him
beyond the point of discretion. On the ijth of April, 1817, Jackson issued
a general order, instructing his subordinates to disregard any orders of the
war department, not promulgated through department headquarters. There
was certainly every reason for Jackson's feeling upon the subject, but this
public defiance of his superiors, without any previous effort to remedy the
evil, was as certainlv indentation of discipline, and had Crawford not uiven

* i"->

place to Calhoun, it is quite likely that an effort might have been made for
his punishment. Calhoun overlooked the offense and recognized the justice
of the complaint by communicating concerning the affairs of the department,
only with Jackson. General Scott, who was an advocate of the strictest mili
tary etiquette and discipline, learning of Jackson's order, expressed unre
served disapproval of it. Jackson, in some manner, heard that Scott had
denounced his action as traitorous, and at once wrote a letter in the sharpest
terms calling Scott to account. This Scott answered, admitting in sub
stance the use of the words complained of, but urging that they were uttered
in private conversation. Jackson replied, very abusive!}' ; the correspond
ence became less decorous and, finally, Jackson came to his ultimatum in an
argument, a challenge to fight. Scott replied that religious scruples and

6O2 ANDREW JACKSON.

patriotic motives united in preventing him from engaging in a duel ; then
the letters of both were published. Thus a matter of personal feeling and
wounded pride led Jackson into a succession of wrong headed acts, which
affected the war department, the reputation of the leading general officers of
the army and his own private standing, when a little forbearance would have
remedied the matter in the beginning. Such episodes as these cast much
light upon Jackson's peculiar and contradictory character, especially neces
sary in studying his presidential career, as it enables one to judge what of
his action was spontaneous, and what emanated from the basement stateman-
ship of the "Kitchen cabinet. "

The Florida war was at hand, and in no event of our national history,
save perhaps the later war with Mexico, is there so much to regret. The
doctrine of manifest destiny, that cover for covetousness and excuse for
theft, was effective to its precipitation, but as a means, not as a primary
cause. The slave power was behind and above it all, and the greed of land
speculation came next. Georgia had lost many slaves who found refuge in
the everglades ; these deep retreats in alien territory were as a city of refuge
to fugitive bondmen. The whole south, the Carolinas and Georgia in par
ticular, having gone far with the spoliation of the Creeks, Cherokees, and
Chickasaws, were mad with the greed for further plunder. Some of the
fugitives of the Creek war had escaped Jackson's fire and sword and, like
the negroes, had found refuge in Florida. Both black and red men had been
received by the peaceful Seminoles, and many intermarriages had done much
to merge the tribes and races, and this very new community of interest con
centrated the hatred and the determination of the Georgians to possess the
land. The closing year of the war of 1812 gave a pretext, which, had it
been used, would have given color of justice to the invasion. The British,
as has been said, made use of Florida as a base of operations against Louis
iana. Spain was not strongly enough represented in her province to pre
vent this breach of neutrality, had she so desired. The British officers were
licentious and irresponsible, and their movements upon the frontiers of
the United States gave ample excuse for the demand of indemnity or of
Florida from Spain. This opportunity was not embraced, yet the grievance
was still felt, and the people of the south felt that they had cause of quarrel
with the negro population of Florida, that they were fugitives from their
lawful owners ; with the Creeks that they had escaped punishment ; with the
Seminoles that they had given the Creeks and negroes harbor; with the
Spaniards, that they had not maintained neutrality during the war with
England. These were the grounds upon which the war was sought to be
justified. It was precipitated by a succession of outrages, small and great,
committed by lawless people on either side of the border; there was wrong
on each side, and to balance it was then difficult and is now impossible. The
English, during their occupation of Florida, had constructed a fort about

JACKSON IX FLORIDA. 603

fifteen miles from the mouth of the Appalachicola river ; at the cessation of
hostilities it had been taken possession of by a bodyof negroes and a few
Creeks, who appropriated the arms and ammunition left by the Spaniards,
and held the post as a garrison.

During 1816, the United States received permission from the Spanish
governor to convey in boats, up the Appalachicola, materials for the con
struction of a fort in Georgia. Some state that, in passing the negro fort,
one of these boats was fired upon by those within, others that the first shot
came from the boat ; at all events, some one fired, the fort was bombarded;
a hot shot exploded the magazine, and, of the three hundred inmates, —
men, women, and children, — two hundred and seventy were killed outright,
while the few who escaped from the ruins were massacred by the Indian
allies of the Americans. This occurrence was rather a relief to the Spanish
governor, who had not been too well pleased at having so formidable a
work within his jurisdiction, and in the hands of negroes.

Spain was at that time at war with her revolted American colonies,
and the occasion was taken by pirates and freebooters to ply their trade
against the vessels of whatever nation came in their way, under cover of a
pretended service in the cause of the provinces. Amelia island, upon the
coast of Florida, was the headquarters of such a band of filibusters, pirates,
smugglers, ready for anything and everything that promised a profit, and it
was deemed necessary to the protection of the commerce of the United
States to put a stop to it ; hence the island was occupied by the United
States, and the band scattered. All these occurrences united to bring on
the war. Spain had not the force, with all other demands upon her, to pre
serve order in Forida, yet she was jealous of the United States, and resented
any trespass or intervention, however slight. Word of the successive events
thus hastily sketched was sent to Washington, and disseminated through the
press of the north, by interested persons, always exaggerated and distorted
to make it appear that every aggression came from the Spanish side of the
line ; that the Georgians were weak and abused victims of the outrages of
a powerful and barbarous enemy, and that the very existence of the southern
border states depended upon the intervention of the strong arm of the fed
eral government.

This was the condition of affairs at the beginning of 1817 ; during that
year the border outrages increased, responsibility for them being still very
equally divided. On the 2Oth of November, General Gaines, commanding,
under Jackson, upon the frontier, sent a force of one hundred and fifty men
to Fowltown, the principal village of the hostile Creeks. As the detach
ment approached, it was fired upon, and in retaliation captured and burned
the town after a protracted fight. There seems to have been no better
reason for this expedition than the refusal of the Creek chief to comply with
a summons of Gaines to come to his headquarters and tell whether or no

604 ANDREW JACKSON.

he was less hostile than before. With the fight at Fowltown began the
Seminole war ; the Indians and negroes arose, attacked boats ascending the
Appalachicola, and cut off straggling Americans wherever they could
encounter them.

When news reached the war department of this affair, Jackson was
instructed to take personal command in Georgia. Immediately upon receiv
ing this order he hastened to comply, and dispatched a letter to Monroe :
" Let it be signified to me through any channel, (say Mr. J. Rhea), that the
possession of the Floridas would be desirable to the United States, and in
sixty days it will be accomplished." This letter afterwards played an
important part in Jackson's career ; Monroe was ill and absent from Wash
ington. He always disavowed knowledge of the Rhea letter, and it is highly
improbable that he ever received it. Jackson claimed to have received from
Rhea a letter in which the writer stated that the President approved of the
suggestion conveyed ; but he never produced the letter during the contro
versy of after years. He construed Calhoun's orders, however, upon an
assumption that the secretary of war knew of his letter and was agreed with
the President in approving it. It will be seen that Jackson had as few
1 constitutional scruples " in 1817, as when he first took command of the
Tennessee militia, previous to the Creek war, and when he moved from
Mobile against Pcnsacola.

In the meantime Jackson was busy in constructing a contingent army
rrom the militia of Tennessee and Georgia, which he gathered with his
accustomed vigor, then made a forced march to the frontier, arriving there
in March, 1818. A portion of his provisions he dispatched to Fort Scott,
by the Appalachicola, sending word to the Spanish governor that if any of
these boats were molested or hindered, he should regard it as an act of hos
tility to the United States. He then advanced and captured St. Marks.
Sumner says : "Jackson's proceedings were based upon two positive but
arbitrary assumptions : (i) That the Indians got aid and encouragement
from St. Marks and Pensacola. (This the Spaniards always denied, but
perhaps a third assumption of Jackson might be mentioned ; that the word
of a Spanish official was of no value.) (2) That Great Britain kept paid
emissaries stationed in Florida, to stir up trouble in the United States."
There is not, in fact, an atom of evidence tending to show that England
was ever guilty of the contemptible acts charged, and, in the absence of
such evidence, the fact that the entire fighting force of the Creeks and Scm-
inoles did not number two thousand men, reduces the assumption to an
absurdity. Nicholas, who commanded the British force at Pensacola, in
1815, was certainly guilty of a breach of neutrality, but his offense was
rather against Spain than America; he as certainly encouraged the Indians,
and led them to believe that they might hope for support from England,
but his object was probably to obtain their immediate assistance. Certain

JACKSON IX FLORIDA. 605

it is that England censured him for his action, and disavowed all responsi
bility for it. The worst sin of Spain in the matter was her weakness, which
rendered her incapable of protecting her territory. Jackson, with his over
whelming force of eighteen hundred whites and fifteen hundred friendly
Indians, probably quite twice the entire number of adult male hostiles in
Florida, pushed on and occupied St. Marks. There was Alexander Arbuth-
not, a Scotchman, seventy years of age, who had long been a trader among
the Indians of Florida. With the wise foresight necessary to his success in
trade, he had made the Indians his friends; he had advised them in matters
of peace, but never, s<> far as can be learned, in any warlike emergency. He
had told the Creeks that the treaty of Ghent had guaranteed them the
re-possession of their lands, and so much reason did he have for this inter
pretation, that it required no little diplomatic skill on the part of the United
States to secure a different decision. At the approach of Jackson's army,
Arbuthnot mounted his horse and set out from St. Marks, but was pursued,
captured, and confined, simply because he was a white man, and it pleased
the general to suspect him of being an emissary of England.

Several American vessels of war anchored in the bay of St. Marks,
and, by hoisting the British Hag, enticed two Indian chiefs aboard. Noth
ing appeared against these men but that they 'had been engaged in an expedi
tion against other Indians, conducted after the accepteel rules of Indian
warfare, and that a number of their enemies had been massacred. These
chiefs, thus foully entrapped by cunning and device, were, by the order of
Jackson, hanged. This precious specimen of civilized warfare completed,
Jackson moved on toward the Seminole town upon the Suwanee river,
where lived Boleck, or Hilly Bowlegs, the principal chief. Arbuthnot had
a trading post at this point. Upon learning of Jackson's approach, and
before his own arrest, he had sent word to his son, who was in charge, to
remove the goods to a place of safety, and to advise Holeck not to resist
the coming army. Holeck and his warriors were no less wise than Arbuth
not, and, more confident of Jackson's clemency when out of his reach than
when in his power, they fled to the deep woods, where they could not be
pursued. Hence, when the Americans reached the town, they found only
empty and deserted lodges, which they burned. Jackson was furious at
being thus balked of his prey; he charged Arbuthnot with having warned
the Indians, and there is no question that the doom of an unfortunate and
innocent man was sealed by this disappointment. While in this unamiable
frame of mind Robert Ambrister, late a lieutenant of Hritish marines, was
captured in the neighborhood. He was thirty-three years of age, and seems
to have been an adventurer, left in the track of a retiring army. That he
was a worthless fellow, is likely enough ; that he represented the British
government, or anything, or person, beyond his own very insignificant self,
is beyond the limit of credence. He was, however, an Englishman, and

606 ANDREW JACKSON.

tha.t was enough for Jackson, who placed him under arrest and returned to
St. Marks. A court-martial was immediately organized for the trial of Am-
brister and Arbuthnot, and charges were formulated, against the former of
inciting the Indians and levying war against the United States ; against the
latter (i) of inciting the Creek Indians to war against the United States, (2)
of being a spy and aiding the English, (3) of inciting Indians to the murder
of two white men named. It should be borne in mind that no war existed
at this time, as war is regarded among civilized nations. The Indian tribes
not recognized as nations having belligerent rights, or as having any rights as
citizens. Had the so-called Florida war been fought upon American territory,
the hostiles would have ranked, in the ordinary sense, not as enemies1; certainly
not as rebels. This being the condition of affairs, there is grave question
whether Arbuthnot and Ambrister could properly have been held to strict
accountability for the acts charged, even had they been clearly proven guilty
and had the acts been committed within the jurisdiction of the United
States. In fact, Jackson was an invader upon the territory of a friendly
power — a trespasser; he had no more right to try men for inciting Indians
to hostility in Florida, than would an American officer of to-day have to
cross the border of her majesty's dominions, arrest and try an Indian trader
or a casual traveler in Manitoba on the same charge. Two necessary con
ditions precedent to the regularity of the proceedings were lacking — a state
of war and territorial jurisdiction.

The trial of Arbuthnot first occurred, and he was found guilty upon the
first charge and upon the second, save of being a spy; upon the third he
was acquitted. He was sentenced to be hanged. Ambrister threw him
self upon the mercy of the court and was sentenced to be shot. This decis
ion was later reconsidered and the sentence modified to fifty lashes and ore
year's imprisonment at hard labor. When Jackson heard of this change he
was furious, and demanded that the original sentence be restored. The
court obediently complied, and both men were executed, by Jackson's order,
on the 2Qth day of April, 1818.

The minutes of these trials are now in existence,* and the sweeping
assertion may be made that not the smallest atom of evidence of the guilt
of Arbuthnot can be discovered and that none was produced. His pres
ence in the Spanish province of Florida; his notice to his son to remove
their stock in trade across the Suwanee — these were all the facts that tended
to the support of the prosecution ; for the defense this very letter to his
son spoke loudly, in the advice given to Boleck not to resist the advancing
invaders. So far as Ambrister is concerned, his weak and misdirected plea
for mercy cuts us off from a consideration of his case upon its merits, -but
this was doubtless made in a fit of terror, and there is not the slightest rea
son for believing him to have been guilty as charged. Aside from the evi

*Niles Weekly Register, 15-270.

JACKSON IN FLORIDA. 607

dence, he had been tried for his life, convicted, sentenced to death, and his
sentence mitigated. By every rule of law, his life, thus once imperiled and
spared, was safe, but Jackson intervened and insisted upon his death. Here
were two men, tried by a court without jurisdiction, in the territory of an
alien power, with which the United States was at peace; convicted without
evidence, and hastily executed without appeal. No blacker crime darkens
the pages of American history, and Jackson, as its inspirer, aider, and
abettor, was, bjfore God and the tribunal of nations, a murderer.

On the same day when occurred the execution of these two unfortunate
victims, Jackson, having no other enemy to conquer, and deeming the "war"
at an end, set out upon his retrograde march for the Georgia frontier, leav
ing a garrison in St. Marks. Some one told him that Indians had taken
refuge in Pensacola, and, upon his way, he turned aside and took possession
of that place, leaving a garrison there as well. General Gaines was instructed
to seize St. Augustine for a similar offense, and with this parting provision,
the general, with the larger part of his army, returned to American soil.

The Florida service had occupied but five months, and, during that
time, Jackson had broken the power of the Indians, established the peace
of the frontiers, and, in effect, crushed the weak authority of Spain in its
own province, and all this without a shadow of authority from the President
or the war department, either laboring under a very extraordinary mis
understanding in connection with the Rhea letter, or moved by his own hot
headed and unreasoning ambition for conquest.

This was the close of Jackson's active military life, though he did not
take leave of his army until July 21, 1821. His whole service in the field,
including the Creek war, the southern campaign of 1815, and his Florida
expedition, covered a period of but twenty-three months. During the Creek
war he led a superior force against a savage enemy, but under especial dis
advantages of organization and discipline, which made the task a difficult
one, and well entitled him to great credit for the result. At New Orleans
he advanced his force, largely composed of militia, against an enemy
splendidly disciplined and equipped and more numerous than his own army;
every circumstance contributed to his success — not the least the imbecility
of the British leaders. There was no finesse or strategy in the battle, and
the result, as compared with the means, has no parallel more recent than
Samson's slaughter of the Philistines with the jaw-bone of an ass. In
Florida, — but enough has been said of Florida.

Jackson won the reputation of being a great general more cheaply than
has any other military personage since Joshua. His subjection of Florida
was as easy as the capture of Jericho; his victory at New Orleans could not
have been accomplished by generalship, nor without the intervention of all
those fortuitous circumstances which make up what men call good luck.

The immediate effect of the Florida campaign was to erect Jackson upon

6C8 ANDREW JACKSON.

a pedestal, from which he has never descended. He was regarded by the
people at large as a military hero ; of the moral aspects of the case they
knew little and thought less, and so strong was the sentiment in his favor,
that a resolution introduced in the House, censuring him for the execution
of Arbuthnot and Ambrister, was defeated.

The administration of Monroe was the logical result of those which had
preceded it. The United Stales of that day may be here described by a
very homely simile. It was a ready made country; its constitution was the
result of an emergency, and its rulers were called into power untried and
uninstructed. Before 1787 the colonies had lived only such a life as taught
subservience ; it required many years for the voun^ nation to recognize its

1 * * * o t>

own power. The administrations of Washington, Adams, Jefferson, and
Madison, had largely effected by skillful diplomacy, what might have been
secured by a peremptory demand ; and this humility as to the foreign policy,
came as an heritage to Monroe. The action of Jackson, uncontemplated
as it was, produced something very like a panic in the cabinet. It had
been the desire to win Florida by dollars, and not by the bayonet, and the
forcing of a direct issue with Spain and of a serious general complication,
was a little too much for the nerves of Monroe and his constitutional advisers.
Calhoun, secretary of war, was much displeased at Jackson's course ; the
President, and with the exception of John Ouincy Adams, secretary of state,
the whole cabinet, were of the same mind. The general inclination was for the
restoration of Florida and the paying of any reasonable indemnity to Spain.
Upon Adams would fall the whole burthen of a contrary course if such were
adopted, and this he boldly took upon his own shoulders and, by his surpass
ing ability, carried the cabinet with him, smothering the personal inclina
tions of its members and dictating the policy of the administration. Sumner
well states the attitude of affairs: ''It was agreed that Pensacola and St.
Marks should be restored to Spain, but that Jackson's course should be
approved and defended, on the grounds that he pursued his enemy to his
refuge, and that Spain could not do the duty which devolved on her. The
President, however, countermanded the order which Jackson had given
Gaines, to seize St. Augustine, because some Indians had taken refuge there.
All the members of the cabinet agreed to the policy decided on, and all
loyally adhered to it, the secret of their first opinion being preserved for ten
years. Calhoun wrote Jackson, according to agreement, congratulating
and approving. Jackson inferred that Calhoun had been his friend in the
cabinet all the time, and that his old enemy, Crawford, had been the head
of the hostile party. The political history of this country was permanently
affected by the personal relations of Jackson to Calhoun and Crawford in
that matter. Monroe had a long correspondence with Jackson to try to rec
oncile him to the surrender of the forts to Spain. In that correspondence
Jackson did not mention the Rhea letter. "

JACKSON IN FLORIDA. 609

During the years 1818 and 1819 Jackson's action in Florida came up
in Congress as a political question. The action of the cabinet had clearly
committed the administration to the defense of Jackson ; and Clay, who had
become the recognized leader of the opposition, took the matter up as the
most available subject upon which charges could be predicated. It is quite
evident that it was not alone the reputation of the administration, or yet the
military responsibility of Jackson that was at stake. The four men below
the President who were at that time most prominent and influential in affairs
were, Adams, secretary of state ; Crawford, secretary of the treasury ; Cal-
houn, secretary of war; and Clay, in the opposition. All of these men
were presidential aspirants, and all must, at that time, have recognized in
Jackson a possible competitor. Working, perhaps, for the same end, but
influenced by various feelings and alliances, the outward manifestation of a
common desire was very different. Clay's attitude has been stated. Adams
had staked his reputation upon justifying Jackson to Europe ; the t\vo were
ostensibly friends, and the name of Adams for President with Jackson for
Vice President, was commonly suggested ; Calhoun, as secretary of war,
was in a measure complicated in the affair; he coind not oppose Jackson,
maintain the secrecy of cabinet deliberations and, at tl\e same time, clear
his own skirts of responsibility ; hence his general effort was coincident with
that of Adams. Crawford hated Calhoun, hated Jackson, regarded Adams
as a rival, and, hence, worked earnestly in the cause of the opposition. The
Senate committee regarding the Seminole war reported adversely to Jack
son from the beginning of his recruiting service until the close of the Flor
ida campaign, but at this point, the matter passed from the hands of the
legislative to that of the executive branch of government, and no further
step was ever taken in the matter.

Adams made a very ingenious and specious defense of the government,
so far as it was involved in the matter of the enticing and execution of the
two Seminole chiefs, and the death of Arbuth'not and Ambristcr. No
advocate ever pleaded a wrongful case more plausibly and successfully.
The result of all was the purchase of Florida by the United States. In
thus obtaining title to the land and its appurtenances, America may be said
to have acquired, as well, all claims of Spain for territorial injuries, and such
were merged in the title, and were thus forever set at rest, leaving only the
shameful wrongs of Creeks and Seminoles and the judicial murders of the
war, to cry out from the soil of the flowery land, as a perennial reproach to
the United States. The annexation of Florida was a hasty and short
sighted measure in at least one particular. Beyond the Mississippi and to
the Rio Grande, stretched the wild and little known territory of Spain,
which now forms the state of Texas. There were sticklers even at thai
time, fora " scientific boundary," yet these could not see in the wild and
savage miles beyond the Mississippi anything worth the having, and, while

6lO ANDREW JACKSON.

it might have been Dought for a trifle, and thus have saved the commission
of a great wrong and the waging of a needless war, it was held as of little
consequence by either Spain or America, and remained under the jurisdic
tion of the latter. The cursory reader of American history is likely to
very greatly underestimate the importance and territorial extent of the
Louisiana and Florida purchases ; the words of Robert P. Porter, in the
Princeton Review for November, 1879, so we^ summarizes the matter as to
excuse quotation :

"If the reader will take the trouble to glance at Walker's statistical
atlas of the United States, he will observe that prior to the Louisiana pur
chase in 1803, the United States was bounded by the Mississippi river on
the west, and the Spanish possession of Florida on the south. The cession
of Louisiana gave us all west of the Mississippi and north of the Red river,
and of Mexico to the Pacific ocean — a territory considerably exceeding the
previous Union. The annexation of Texas in 1845, and the Texas cession
of 1850, added a domain nearly equal to the states north of the line of the
Ohio and east of the Mississippi ; and the first and second Mexican cessions
of 1848 and 1852 completed the line of our " scientific frontier" by giving
us a territory about as large as the states south of the great lakes and east
of the Mississippi. The United States of 1810 was therefore a country only
one-ninth as large as the United States of to-day."

While Jackson had no voice either in the legislative or executive
branches of the United States government, his standing and influence were
such that Adams consulted him as to the matter of boundaries to be de
manded in the negotiation with Spain. Jackson's mind was distinguished
by intensiveness rather than extensiveness of view. He was at that time
especially interested in Florida; he did not see beyond it, and gave his
approval of the limits of the cession, as finally fixed. There is abundant
evidence of this fact, yet, in later years, he denied having so approved the
treaty, or being consulted concerning it, and the disagreement was the cause
of much ill-feeling between himself and Adams.

In the spring of 1821, Jackson was appointed governor-general of
Florida. The cession was not consummated until July of that year, and
Congress had not time to provide laws for the government of the new terri
tory. Consequently Jackson was appointed to a very anomalous office.
He was given the powers of the captain-general of Cuba and of the late
governors of Florida, save only as to levying taxes and granting lands ;
the body of the Spanish law was continued in force, it being afterward
decided that no laws of the United States, save as to the revenue and slave
trade, applied to Florida. On the 2ist of July, Jackson formally assumed
his office and issued a farewell address to the army of the south.

It required but two months for the new governor to get his bearings
sufficiently to complicate matters by a quarrel such as distinguished every

JACKSON IN FLORIDA. 6ll

public service in which he .was engaged. Certain persons complained to
him that Callava, the ex-governor, had made grants of lands, between the
formulation of the treaty of cession and its ratification, and that he was
preparing to remove the evidence of such action from the country. Jack
son assumed these charges to be true, and sent a very peremptory demand
to Callava, to deliver the papers to him. The ex-governor replied, refusing
to recognize the demand, unless a particular description of the papers were
given, and the demand addressed to him as Spanish commissioner. Jackson
had one resort in such cases. He locked Callava in the guard-house during
the night and, after searching his house and appropriating such papers as he
desired, released the captive in the morning. Callava took the matter as
rather a good joke, summoned a number of his friends to the prison and
the party passed a very hilarious night. Klegius Fromentin was at that
time United States judge for the western district of Florida ; he assumed
his poxver to be co-extensive with that of other federal judges within the
territories of the United States. Consequently he issued a writ of habeas
corpus for the imprisoned Callava. Jackson cared very little for judicial
writs or for the dignity of the ermine. Consequently he disregarded the
process and summoned the judge before him to explain his disrespect of the
vice-regent of the Spanish king and the commissioned governor of the
United States. The judge delayed a day, on plea of illness, them came, and
a stormy interview ensued. Jackson, perhaps remembering his expensive
experience in Florida, forebore to hang or imprison the judge, and each of the
functionaries contented himself with preparing a statement of the affair and
forwarding it to Washington. Subsequently Fromentin went in person to
Washington and urged his claim. After his departure certain persons in
Pensacola published a defense of the judge, and Jackson gave them four
clays in which to leave the territory, notifying them, at the same time, that
if they failed so to do, they would lay themselves open to all the penalties
which lay in his power, as the American administrator of the old Spanish
law, to inflict. During the month of February he became disgusted with
his office and, resigning it, returned to Washington, where he had the satis
faction of eliciting a decision that Fromentin's power, as a United States
judge, in Florida, was limited to the enforcement of laws relating to the
revenue and slave trade, thus again relieving him from the possible conse
quences of a rash action.

In 182}, Jackson was offered the ministry to Mexico, but declined the
honor, later publishing an explanitory letter in which he severely reflected
upon the Monroe administration, though it cannot be denied that it had
done very much to shield him not only from popular disapproval, but from
the direct penalties of his over-zeal in Florida.

This history has now passed the second period of Jackson's life — that
distinctly associated with his military experience. This was in fact a very

612 ANDREW JACKSON.

narrow one, marked by one brilliant success, but marred, wherever the person
ality of the man appeared, by errors growing out of overweening self-esteem,
morbid sensitiveness, and the arrogance that power is apt to develop in a con-
ceitecl and sensitive man. We now come to the time when, in his own mind
and in the estimation of his friends, Jackson was recognized as an aspirant for
the Presidency. A few words as to the campaign of 1824 are necessary, for
the reason that many of the expedients which tended to the election of Jack
son in 1828, were devised and put in operation then. Jackson was adisorgan-
izer in the campaign ; he set ou-t without definite party or sectional support ;
in other words he was outside any of the machines. The candidacy of John
Quincy Adams, of Calhoun, Crawford, and Clay was recognized. Adams
was, undoubtedly, from the highest point of view, best entitled to the sup
port of the country. His strength was in his thorough statesmanship, his
long diplomatic and ministerial experience, and his unquestioned honesty.
These were in a measure offset by the facts that he made no effort to gain
friends, hence had few ; that, having come to the democratic from the fed
eralist party, in 1807, the soundness of his party allegiance was doubted,
and that he had the smallest and least carefully organized body of workers
of any candidate. Adams favored the tariff of 1824, considering further pro
tection unnecessary. Calhoun was the young man's candidate, drawing
large support from north and east, as well as south. He was a states-rights
man, then as later. Clay was a pronounced protectionist. He had opposed
the re-charter of the bank, and favored the early recognition of the South
American republics. His political philosophy Avas of the popular kind, and,
supported by his splendid eloquence, tended to draw to him a certain and
enthusiastic, if not a very discriminating, support. Crawford was the regular
candidate, controlling the machine, certain of a majority in the congressional
caucus ; confident of success. He had been a warm friend of the old bank.
His administration of the treasury had been distinguished by zeal, and a
measure of success ; he had, however, distributed the deposits of the govern
ment among the banks in such manner, as he thought, to insure harmony.
When the crash came the government was a very considerable loser, and
Crawford was charged with having hazarded the funds of the nation, to pro
duce political capital for himself.

Jackson's better political self, Lewis, now began the preparation of the
people for his candidacy. He went to South Carolina to arouse the citizens
of that state in his favor; a member of Congress was procured to write him
a question as to his opinion regarding the tariff, and this gave opportunity
for Lewis, in Jackson's name, to pen an answer which it would be difficult
to surpass as an example of masterly evasiveness.

Crawford, having a well defined majority in the House, favored a cau
cus; the other candidates, recognizing Crawford's strength, opposed the
caucus, though covertly. When it was held, Crawford received sixty-four

HIS PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN AND ELECTION. 613

votes. Adams two, Jackson two, Mason one, while Gallatin was nominated
for Vice President; in other words, scarcely any but Crawford men attended
the caucus. Even at that early da}' New York had a .machine; Van Buren
was at its head, and it was committed to Crawford. It was proposed as this
machine — the Regency — controlled the legislature of the state, to take the
election from that body and give it to the people. Even the Regency did
not dare oppose a measure so obviously just as well as popular, but procured
it to be so amended that its own friends had to kill it out of pure compas
sion. \Yhy Jackson should have won Pennsylvania to his cause is hard to
say. That he did so is indisputable. The federalist convention held at
Harrisburg on the 22cl of July, 1824, declared for him, and the Democratic
convention held in March was cleverly stampeded to his support.

Clay was obviously out of the race, and he was coquetting with one
and another candidate. Jackson certainly expected his support. The
electoral vote, as cast, gave Jackson ninety-nine votes ; Adams, eighty-four;
Crawford, one; Clay, thirty-seven. The election was thus thrown into the
House. Adams received the votes of thirteen, Jackson of seven, and Craw
ford of four, states. The popular vote was: For Jackson, one hundred
and fifty-five thousand, eight hundred; for Adams, one hundred and five
thousand, three hundred; for Crawford, forty-four thousand, two hundred;
hundred; for Clay, forty-six thousand, five hundred.

Immediately after the inauguration, Adams appointed Henry Clay his
secretary of state. This was such an opportunity as Lewis most wished for.
He at once placed Jackson in the light of an injured man. Having received
fifty thousand popular votes more than were received by Adams, with a clear
plurality in the electoral college, Jackson had yet been defeated by Adams,
but how? Clearly by the means of a corrupt bargain with Clay, whereby
Clay's friends in the House voted for Adams, on condition that their leader
should be appointed secretary of state. There was at that time not the
slightest evidence of such a bargain, unless the election of Adams and the
appointment of Clay be so esteemed, but these facts were enough to serve
the double purpose of Lewis by arousing a public feeling against Adams and
Clay, a popular sympathy for Jackson, and, perhaps most of all, by work
ing upon Jackson's marked self-esteem, and arousing him to the active effort
which opposition and the desire to defeat and humiliate an opponent were
always enough to awaken in him.

Jackson took upon himself the dissemination of the news, and, as
always, outrunning the zeal of those who incited him to the act, dinned it
in the ears of every man he met; gave the statement the authority of his
name, and, when Clay demanded that he produce the evidence upon which
he based his allegations, or retract them, gave the name of Breckenridge.
The latter evaded the matter if he did not prevaricate; Jackson, had he
been more logical, would have been unhorsed. As it was, he simply placed

6 14 ANDREW JACKSON.

Breckenridge upon the list of his enemies; refused to retract, upon Clay,s
demand that he should do so, and, on the contrary, on every occasion
re-affirmed the charge of a corrupt bargain. This was a two-edged sword,
certain, if Clay was so influenced by it as to decline the portfolio, to make
him much less formidable in the future; if he braved it and took his place in
the cabinet, to injure both himself and Adams before the people.

Another point made by Lewis and his associates was that the House of
Representatives, in the event of a presidential election falling to it, was
morally bound to respect the will of the popular majority, as indicated by the
vote at the polls. There is no more pernicious political fallacy than this,
nor is there any more difficult to extirpate. The Constitution, in providing
for the electoral college, intended to so balance numerical and territorial
representation, as to secure the few against the thousands of crowded
centers; the thousands against the thinly populated square miles of the
frontiers. This false and specious proposal would annex to the Constitution
a tacitly understood amendment, reversing its original intent, and in some
cases disfranchising a large numerical minority, representing in fact the
greater territory, by the vote of a crowded city or a single state, devoted to
a given candidate, or influenced by a local issue. The people at large do
not make careful distinctions ; they are devoted to the abstract idea of maj
ority rule, and do not recognize that numerical majority, in federal politics,
is but a single, and that, too, a secondary element. Hence the appeal to
the prejudices of the masses, founded upon the assumption of a corrupt bar
gain between Adams and Clay, and of injustice on the part of the House of
Representatives, though there was no foundation for the latter, and probably
none for the former, found ready credence, and its effect vindicated the claim
of Lewis to the reputation of being the shrewdest politician of his time.

The years of Adams' administration must be very briefly dismissed.
Every one recognized Jackson as the " coming man." Parties and factions
trimmed, that their sails might be filled by the breeze which should bear him
him into power. Van Buren, in New York, at the head of the Regency,
had supported Crawford, and DeWitt Clinton had been removed from office,
because he was a Jackson man. Van Buren read the signs of the times and
wheeled into the Jackson line ; the Albany Argus, which had written Jack
son down as a presidential impossibility, took him up and supported him as
a presidential certainty. Thus New York, Pennsylvania, and Tennessee,
wrere secured for Jackson ; he was the second choice of the Clay states, —
Kentucky, Missouri, and Ohio, and stood upon terms of equality with his
available rivals in other states. The opposition was organized in Jackson's
favor, and a more ill-assorted medley it would be difficult to conceive.
There was between its elements no sympathy save that arising from com
munity of discontent. There was not even the pretence of a principle, yet
the so-called party rallied at the battle cry of reform, and its campaign was

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN AND ELECTION.

one of the most vigorous ever known in the history of the United States.
Party organs had before existed, but they had been of the moderate order
which have some regard for truth and a measure of judicial fairness. Lewis
brought into being, all over the country, a journalism now familiar enough,
which subordinated everything to the single idea of electing Jackson.
There was for that purpose but one side to any question, and no distinction
between truth and falsehood. Calhoun was an enemy of Adams, and his
place as president of the Senate was unhesitatingly used to injure the Pres
ident. Every committee was framed with a view of making it a clog upon
the executive ; its appointments were confirmed tardily, if at all, and the
efforts of Calhoun in the chair and Randolph upon the floor, were single in
their object, the placing of a second candidacy of Adams out of the ques
tion. Adams, on his part, was one of the purest and best presidents that
was ever elected. He was almost morbidly sensitive about the admission oi
personal considerations to influence his action. He would not appoint a man
to office because he was his friend or remove him because he was his enemy.
He placed the dagger in the hand of his foe, bared his breast, and said;
"Strike ; I am a just man, and an innocent." He did not lack for blowrs.
Sumner, in an admirable summary of the charges against Adams, so well
epitomizes the matter, illustrating the trivial and inconsistent nature of the
war made upon him, that quotation is profitable: " Against Adams were
brought the charges that he gave to Webster and the federalists, in 1824, a
corrupt promise ; that he was a monarchist and aristocrat; that he refused
to pay a subscription to turnpike stock on a legal quibble ; that his wife was
an Englishwoman ; that he wrote a scurrilous poem against Jefferson, in
1802 ; that he surrendered a young American serving woman to the
emperor of Russia ; that he was rich ; that he was in debt ; that he had
long engrossed public office ; that he had received immense amounts of public
money, namely the aggregate of all the salaries, outfits, and allowances he
had ever received ; that his accounts with the treasury were not in order ;
that lie had charged for constructive journeys ; that he had put a billiard
table in the white house at the public expense ; that he patronized duelists
(Clay) ; that he had had a quarrel with his father, who had disinherited him ;
that he had sent out men in the pay of the government to electioneer for
him ; that he had corrupted the civil service ; that he had used the federal
patronage to influence elections." Jackson did not escape assault. His
marriage ; his military record ; his many duels ; his Florida administration
— of all these the most was made to his injury.

The elections of the country were held in the various states from
October 3istto November iQth. Jackson received 648,283 popular votes;
Adams 508,064, and a large majority in the electoral college. Richard
Bush was elected Vice president, and the two were duly installed. The
result was considered a great triumph for the reformers, though no one

ANDREW JACKSON.

seemed to have any very definite idea of where existed the abuses that
called for correction. John Quincy Adams went out under a cloud of odium
almost as dense as that which had enveloped his father, and made way for
the novus homo, — the little educated, headstrong, opinionated Andrew
Jackson.

1I,E FIRST JACKSON ADMINTSTRATION.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FIRST JACKSON ADMINISTRATION.

IT would be interesting and profitable to preface an account of Jackson's
administration, with a general and comprehensive account of the politi
cal conditions which existed at the time, and of the state of public opinion
upon the principal questions of the day, as well as the social, financial, and
industrial aspects of American life. Some slight knowledge of these matters
is, in fact, essential to a just appreciation of Jackson's attitude and policy,
but the glance here given must be very cursory.

Jackson's accession to the presidency may be said to mark an epoch in
American politics. He came as the first fruit of a new philosophy, the
foundation of the machine methods and personal expedients of to-day. The
six men who preceded him in the presidential chair, differing widely in policy
and political ethics; varying much in ability, were, nevertheless, alike in
being cultivated, refined, and representative of the best American social and
intellectual life. No one of them came to the presidential chair, with gar
ments soiled by any unseemly personal struggle for place, or with the odor
of a doubtful method about him. Every one had lived a regular and unques
tionably exemplary life. There was about them all, even about Jefferson,
with all his democracy, a certain dignity and propriety approaching stateli-
ness. This line was at last broken, and the man of the people was come.
Ever\' means — the direct personal propaganda; the assault upon the enemy;
the secret "setting of stakes," and creating of false public opinion, — all
this had been exhausted to make this parvenu a President. His receptions
were attended by a rabble, which he met as if he were one of them, yet this
was largely affectation, for no man could be more the gentleman than Jack
son, when he chose to be such. There was before him a very stormy, diffi
cult, and trying administration. The financial affairs of the country were
upset, and first, as it was the most prolific of all the sources of evil, stood
the banking system, then in force. The other important questions of the

6l'8 ANDREW JACKSON.

time arose from the commercial relations of the United States with the
British colonies; claims against France for injuries to American commerce;
the federal judiciary; Indian relations; the land system; internal improve
ments; tariff; nullification; the banking system.*

Aside from these matters of public and general import, Jackson's first
administration was particularly interesting in its personal and internal— per
haps it may be permissable to say, — its domestic relations. While Jackson
was supposed to be a President of the Jeffersonian succession, his was, both
in its social and political phases, a very different administration from that of
the great republican.

His cabinet was a weak one, but quite equal to the demands made
upon its wisdom. Van Buren, by virtue of his "services" in New York,
was secretary of state ; S. D. Ingham, who had been active in Pennsylvania,
secretary of the treasury. John H. Eaton, of Kentucky, received the war
portfolio; John Branch, of North Carolina, that of the navy; John M.
Berrian, of Georgia, was attorney general. William T. Barry, of Kentucky,
received the appointment of postmaster general, and was the first incumbent
of that office admitted to a seat in the cabinet. It was a ministry carefully
selected to pay the debts of the administration, without danger of imperti
nent interference with those who made the President and were predeter
mined to manage him, and we cannot but recognize in its framing, the fine
Italian hand of William B. Lewis. Out of the public view, living in Wash
ington ; holding but insignificant offices, if any, were the men who adminis
tered the affairs of the nation, through the person of the President. He
was, to be sure, given to rebellion ; to the making of erratic ventures at
independence ; but his policy as it stands before the world, may justly be
said to have been that of the famous "Kitchen Cabinet." William B.
Lewis, of whom enough has been said, w7as its prime minister. Amos Ken
dall, Duff Gunn, and Isaac Hill were his colleagues. Lewis was made sec
ond auditor of the treasury. Kendall was born in Massachusetts, went to
Washington when a young man ; became a member of the family of Henry
Clay ; removed to Kentucky, where he edited a country paper and managed
a country post-office. He fell out with Clay, and hence adhered to Jackson.
An influential worker for the Jackson " second choice " movement in Ken
tucky, he received the office of fourth auditor of the treasury. He was a
man of exceeding ability, but of low moral perceptions, and, as a politician,
was the incarnation of the worst evils of the American system. Harriet
MarHneau wrote of him. " I was fortunate enough once to catch a glimpse
of the invisible Amos Kendall, one of the most remarkable men in Amer
ica. He is supposed to be the moving spring of the whole administration,

*The valuable work of Professor Sumner contains this classification, .and the author acknowledges a
heavy indebtedness to that writer, materials laboriously collected by him being used in many portions of
this biography.

THE FIRST JACKSON ADMINISTRATION. 619

— the thinker, planner, and doer; but it is all in the dark. Documents are
issued of an excellence which prevents their being attributed to persons who
take the responsibility of them ; correspondence is kept up all over the
country for which no one seems to be answerable; work is done of goblin
extent and with goblin speed, which makes men look about them with
superstitious wonder; and the invisible Amos Kendall has. the credit of it
all. He is undoubtedly a great genius. He unites, with his great talent for
silence, a splendid audacity."

Miss Martineau while her conclusions as to the extent of Kendall's
work are somewhat erroneous, in that she gives him credit not only for his
own but for much of Lewis' accomplishment, yet undoubtedly voices accu
rately and vividly the opinion of her time, as to the mysterious man
whose influence was then so potent. As Lewis and Kendall were the
minds of this anomalous administration, Duff Green was the arm. To him
was committed the editorial charge of the Jackson organ, and it may be said
that before his time the purely selfish and partisan journalism so common
to-day existed only in the rudest and most primary form. Whom Kendall
tried and Lewis condemned to political death, he executed cruelly, ruth
lessly. To his mind, as to that of his associates, the world contained but
two classes of people, the friends and the enemies of Jackson. The former
were to be supported, however wrong ; the latter crushed, however right.
The only principle he knew was advisability. Last and perhaps least
important was Isaac Hill, a new England editor, who had collected the
scattered and impotent opposition of New Hampshire, and under the name
of democracy had well nigh accomplished the defeat of Adams at his very
door. Such was the "Kitchen cabinet;" — an aggregation of silent yet
powerful and irresponsible influence, such as the nation had never known
before, and such as we should fervently hope may never hereafter find a
parallel. Into the councils of this circle, but one member of the ostensible
cabinet of the President — Katon — was admitted, and he rather upon suffer
ance than by virtue of any recognized right. This diversion of the Presi
dent's council from recognized channels was not the only complicating
element in the administration. Calhoun was again Vice President ; his
ambition for the higher honor had been balked, not crushed by defeat. He
believed that Jackson would not be a candidate for re-election ; he saw in
Jackson's friendship, which he was destined so soon and so innocently to
lose, the best prospect for his own succes. Van Buren, the crafty and
ambitious NY\v York politician, the first example of the effect of those per
nicious political methods which have produced what in the slang of to-day is
called the boss, was secretary of state. He too had swallowed Lewis' skill
fully baited hook, and regarded Jackson as a one-term President ; he, too.
boked longingly to the succession, and between his interests and those of
Calhoun the conflict was irrepressible. As between the two, Jackson's per-

620 ANDREW JACKSON.

sonal inclinations were in favor of Van Buren, who had given him New
York ; he believed, however, that Calhoun had stood his friend in the Mon
roe cabinet when the matter of the Seminole war, and with it his own repu
tation, was in the balance ; this mistaken belief had made him Calhoun's
friend, as it had made him Crawford's enemy, and, tenacious of his friend
ships as of his hatreds, he stood for the time neutral. There was no imme
diate necessity for taking sides in the matter; the "Kitchen cabinet" had
determined, though it had not announced, that Jackson should again be
President ; when came the proper time the unfailing influences of that won
derful coterie of political managers were set at work and Calhoun was crushed.

This somewhat over long treatment of the internal influences which
surrounded Jackson has been given because essential to an understanding of
his administration. The statement may be made without reservation that
the wisdom, the folly, the justice, the wrong, the new and startling political
methods — everything that made Jackson's administration what it was, was
due to the silent influence of these four men. They showed their wonder
ful adroitness in so long and uniformly influencing so unmanageable a man.
Their success was due to their thorough understanding of his peculiarities;
they knew him too well to allow him to discover that he was in fact not a
free agent ; they filled his ears with hints, insinuations, and respectful sugges
tions ; they kept him closely in their own atmosphere, and isolated from
councils which might conflict with their own, until he had so thoroughly
absorbed their opinions and had become so imbued with their ideas that he
adopted the measures and followed the policy which they had outlined for
him, not for a moment doubting that they were original with himself, and
that his action was quite spontaneous.

To the Jackson administration belongs the responsibility for having
originated and applied the plan of making the machinery of government a
vast engine for supporting an administration, and perpetuating party power.
The principle was formulated in the famous dogma of William L. Marcy,
"To the victors belong the spoils." Jackson's letter to Monroe, writh its
advice regarding the civil service, its protest against proscription, and its
warm advocacy of a conciliatory policy, seems absurd and contemptible
enough in the light of the course taken during his administration.

Up to that time the civil service had been almost an estate in itself; it
was looked upon as a moderately profitable, but a safe and permanent occu
pation. Washington, during his administration, removed nine persons from
office, one a defaulter; Adams, ten, one a defaulter; Jefferson, thirty-nine;
Madison, five, three of whom were defaulters; Monroe, nine; John Quincy
Adams, two, both for cause. It will thus be seen that, from 1789 to 1829,
a period of forty years, there had been but seventy-four removals from
federal office, for more than half of which Jefferson was responsible.

Jackson's inauguration was followed by a descent of hungry vandals,

THE FIRST JACKSON ADMINISTRATION. 621

such as history has since made very familiar; it had, up to that time, been
unknown. The office-seekers were the "workers" who claimed to have
borne a share in making- Jackson President; the office-holders were trie a
and trusty public servants, many of whom had passed a quarter of a century
in the departments; some of whom dated their service from the organization
of the government, under the Constitution. Vague premonitions of a pre
scriptive policy had preceded Jackson's installation ; his inaugural more
definitely foreshadowed it, and, soon after, began the first practical applica
tion of the spoils system. Men were removed, right and left, for the most
trivial causes, or for no cause at all. In their places were put the henchmen
of the new President, and, while the public service lost in efficiency, the
Jackson administration gained in strength.

The responsibility for this policy has never been fixed. Lewis and
Kendall both opposed it; and it was the effect, probably of one of Jackson's
"spasms of independence," he having, as Sumner suggests, taken all the
campaign charges of dishonesty and corruption as literally true. Another
quotation from Sumner will sufficiently illustrate the extent and effect of
Jackson's policy :

"Thirty-eight of Adams' nominations had been postponed by the Sen
ate, so as to give that patronage to Jackson. Between March 4, 1829, and
March 22, 1830, four hundred and twenty-nine postmasters and two hundred
and thirty-nine other officers were removed, and, as the new appointees
changed all their clerks, deputies, etc., it was estimated that two thousand
changes in the civil service took place. Jackson, as we have seen, had made
a strong point against the appointment of members of Congress to offices
in the gift of the.' President. In one year he appointed more members of
Congress to offic.s than anyone of his predecessors in his whole term.
The Senate, although Democratic, refused to confirm many of the nomina
tions made. . . . Webster said that, but for Jackson's popu
larity out of doors, the Senate would have rejected half his appointments.''
One effect of the vacation of so many offices was to precipitate a struggle
between Culhoun and Van Huren, each of whom desired to serve himself by
having his adherents in a majority. Thus the administration was more than
ever divided against itself, and its councils still further distracted.

Jackson's first administration was not without its serio-comic episode.
As Troy was betrayed by a wooden horse, and Rome saved by a flock of
gce"sc, so was the whole fabric of American affairs shaken to its center by a
woman. John II. Katon, secretary of war, had been the husband of a niece
of Jackson's late wife, then deceased. In January, 1829, he married Mrs.
Timberlakc, mr Peggy O'Xeil. Timberlake, while upon the Mediterranean
station had committed suicide, anticipating the death of a drunkard. His
widow, in her maiden days, had been very well known in Washington, and
not in the most exalted connection. Here was indeed a sad predicament

•£22 ANDREW JACKSON.

for the leaders of Washington society. They at last determined to place
social principle above advisability, and refused to recognize her. Scree per
sons remonstrated with Jackson for having countenanced the marriage.
He answered that Mrs. Eaton was not to be in the cabinet; she attempted
to force herself into notice ; he supported her in the effort. The President
personally remonstrated with members of the cabinet ; each answered, with
consummate policy, that he could not undertake to interfere with his
\vrife's social conclusions. Mrs. Donalson, grand niece of a Tennessee
boarding house keeper, niece of Jackson's late wife, was at the head of the
White House menage. See proved as recalcitrant as the rest, and was ban
ished to her native wilds. So went on the war, ruthless as is every war
waged by women ; Van Buren, a widower, paid the young wife attention.
Perhaps this fact made him President ; at least it won Jackson more strongly
to him than before. Mrs. Calhoun would none of the new cabinet lady,
and her husband lost in proportion. Parties and cliques were formed;
Eatonians and anti-Eatonians had their adherents, and the anti's were the
enemies of Jackson.

Next to the Peggy O'Neil embroglio, perhaps the relations of Jackson
with Calhoun were most interesting. The President had begun to look upon
Calhoun with distrust ; he believed that the latter was only moved to his adher
ence to him, in 1825 and 1828, by advisability. Much has been said of the
relations of Crawford and Calhoun to the Florida question, when it arose in
Monroe's cabinet ; Jackson believed Calhoun to have advocated the support
of his Florida policy and Crawford to have opposed it. In this he reversed
the attitude of the men. Neither of them had, however, acted as his
friend or as his enemy ; the matter had been viewed purely in its relations
with the nation and the administration. Parton embodies, in his Life of
Jackson, a statement of Lewis as to the relations of Jackson and Calhoun,
which covers the matter as fully as could be wished. As early as 1819 an
effort had been made to imbue Jackson with an idea that Calhoun had not,
as he had previously supposed, been his friend in the matter of the Seminole
war. Lewis, at that time, wrote to the Aurora, intimating that opinion.
But Jackson was not yet ripe for the thought, and wrote to Lewis from
Washington to dismiss the suspicion which he entertained of Calhoun.
Again, to quote from Sumner :

" In November, 1829, at the height of the Peggy O'Neil affair, Jack
son gave a dinner to Monroe. At this dinner Ringold affirmed that Monroe
alone stood by Jackson in 1818. If Ringold did not have his cue, he was
by chance contributing astonishingly to Lewis' plans. After dinner Lewis
and Eaton kept up a conversation within earshot of Jackson, about what
Ringold had said. Of course, Jackson's attention was soon arrested, and
lie began to ask Ringold questions. Lewis then told him that he had seen,

THE FIRST JACKSON ADMINISTRATION. 623

eighteen months 'before, the above mentioned letter of Forsyth to Ham
ilton. *

Jackson dispatched Lewis to New York the next morning', to get that
letter. In all this story it is plain how adroitly these men managed the gen
eral, and how skilful they were in producing "accidents.1 It is evident that
the\r did not think it was time yet to bring about an explosion. Lewis
came back from New York without Forsyth's letter, and said it was thought
best to get a letter directly from Crawford containing an explicit statement.
In this position the matter rested all winter. It is perfectly clear that the
Jackson managers lost faith in Calhoun's loyalty to Jackson and the Jackson
party, and that they were hostile to him in 1827 and 1828, but could not
yet afford to break with him. Jackson clung to his friendships and alliances
with a certain tenacity. As Calhoun was drawn more and more in nullifica-'
tion, the Jackson clique took a positive attitude in opposition to him.

The movement against Calhoun was one of the most adroitly executed
of any ever adopted by that remarkable coterie of conspirators — the kitchen
cabinet. It brought against him every possible consideration that could
have weight with Jackson. It brought against him, not only these personal
considerations, but those that might have influence with the public at large,
thus reaching Jackson at' once in two different directions — his private feel
ings, and his own estimate of the effect of the matter upon the public at
large; it undermined Calhoun by ever)' insinuation known to the methods of
the most consummate politician; worked against him upon his record in the
Monroe cabinet, and was not slow to use the facts in regard to the Peggy
O'Xeil affair, to affect Jackson's personal feelings, and still the Crawford
letter was held back as a possible means of influence, should everything
else fail.

In the spring of 1830, Lewis wrote Colonoi Stambaugh, of Pennsyl
vania, suggesting that the Pennsylvania legislature might well address to
Jackson an appeal that he be a candidate for re-election. This was the first
public announcement of a long standing plan of the Kitchen cabinet, that
Jackson should be a second time president. There was enclosed to the
prominent members of the legislature an address, already prepared for sig
nature, suggesting this re-election. Lewis, with his consummate knowledge
of political methods, and his wily partisanship, suggested to Stambaugh
that it would not be well for any of Jackson's friends at the capital to be
apparent in the movement for re-election, and that from Pennsylvania, which
in the previous campaign had been the stronghold of his popularity, should
come the first and ostensibly spontaneous movement for his candidacy.
Pennsylvania was then, as later, absolutely in the hands of managers, con-

*A certain letter of one Forsyth to Alexander Hamilton, affirming that Jackson's enmity against
Crawford was groundless, since it was not he, but Calhoun, in Monroe's cabinet, who had favored the
. censure of Jackson regarding the Florida proceedings in 1818.

624 ANDREW JACKSON.

sequently the address came back properly signed with twenty-eight names,
a large majority of the legislature. It was published and adroitly circu
lated, and everywhere was made to do duty as a spontaneous and irresistible
call of the supporters of the "old hero," urging him not to desert his office
in the hour of need. Yet the Lewis faction had much to oppose. The
Calhoun party was not to be defeated by such flimsy methods as these, and,
all along the line, contested every inch of ground.

In the spring, a caucus of the New York legislature responded to the
"sentiment of the legislature of Pennsylvania." No one could doubt
whence this prompting came — from Van Buren at Washington. Of course,
then, as since, the example of New York was followed, and other legisla
tures were ready to give in their adherence to the Soldier President.

Taking into consideration the antecedents of Jackson, his attitude to
ward previous measures, and his well known southern tendencies, it must
be surprising to every student of history that he was not distinctly and
openly an adherent of the nullification doctrines, of which Calhoun was the
principal exponent. Yet such was not the case. With one of those pecu
liar and inexplicable assertions of independence, which made his adminis
tration a surprise, not only to his friends but to his enemies, he, from the
first suggestion of nullification to the close of his administration, was un
questionably its enemy. The I3th of April, 1830, the anniversary of the
birth of Jefferson, was suggested by the friends of that great statesman as a
proper time for the celebration, which should at the same time draw to
gether the principal leaders of the old democratic party, and, covertly, be
made an excuse for forwarding the then young principles of the nullification
party, — if party it may be called. On that occasion Jackson was present,
and he proposed a toast, which probably more than any other that could
have been suggested, tended to the defeat of the enemies of the real, though
not partisan federalipm,-— " Our federal Union."

This was at the same time a paralyzing blow to the nullifiers, and was a
note of encouragement to the not small minority of federalists who looked
upon the preservation of the Union, and to the continuation of the methods
which had been adopted by Washington, forwarded by Adams, and allowed
to pursue their even course under Jefferson, Madison and Monroe as superior
to party aims, and at the same time was a distinct declaration of war against
Calhoun, his own secretary of state ; against the methods which Calhoun
represented, against the party which professed to support Calhoun as a
Presidential nominee. Perhaps this was Jackson's work, but it seems alto
gether unlikely, to one who has been a close student of his administration,
and of his previous history, that he should have struck spontaneously so
aggressive a blow against, not so much at the party, as at the man who headed
it — Calhoun. It has been previously shown in these pages that Jackson
had, up to the time named, considered Calhoun to be his friend. There

THE FIRST ADMINISTRATION. 62$

had unquestionably been at work upon him during this interval, the mystery
of which history may not penetrate, some influence which convinced him
that he had been mistaken in his former estimate of Calhoun, and, this
influence having once convinced him that one whom he had considered
his friend had, in fact, not been such, it resulted in making him the bitter
enemy of that man.

It was not until the 1st of May, 1830, that a letter was at last received,
written by Crawford himself, which disclosed the true attitude of Calhoun
on the cabinet issue of 1818. In that communication the Rhea letter, to
which reference has already been made, for the first time, came into public
notice. In it the whole matter of the Florida war was discussed, the whole
matter of the cabinet deliberations which followed that war was rehearsed ;
in it the attitude of Calhoun, distinct!}" in opposition to Jackson at that
time, was brought out; the attitude of Adams as Jackson's only champion
in the cabinet ; the attitude of Crawford, who was in fact a neutral, — all these
were exposed and ever}' tendency of every line was such as to wreck any
small remaining confidence which Jackson might have in Calhoun.

The position of Kendall in the "Kitchen cabinet" had been owing to
his influence in Kentucky politics ; that influence had been due to his advo
cacy of relief measures, and his opposition of the bank of the United States.
The first disruption in this famous basement cabinet was due to the fact of
Jackson's opposition to Calhoun, which turned Duff Green, editor of the
administration organ, against the man who inspired his pen. This being so.
there was nothing but to search through the country for another man who
might edit the organ of Jackson, and such a man was found in Francis P.
Blair, whose coming, in the year 1830, was the first appearance in \Yash-
ington of that famous family. This man had been all that Kendall was, the
friend of relief politics in Kentucky, the enemy of the bank of the United
States, a friend of what would in this day be called communism, against
those persons who claimed that a reasonable investment presupposes the
right of recovery against the solvent debtor. From this time on, the
"Kitchen ca,j;net " was changed by the substitution of Blair for Green. It
was not until the latter part of 1830 that the quarrel between the Vice
Preside-nt and President became public property.

In February, 1831, Calhoun published a statement of the whole matter.
There was then but one thing to be done, — to compass the removal of his
three friends Ingham, Branch and Berrien, from the cabinet. To accom
plish this result, those who were in the councils of the "Kitchen cabinet"
resigned, Eaton first, Van Buren afterwards. Van Buren stated his reasons
for resigning in a letter, dated April II, 1831. The main ideas of the letter
and those of Jackson's reply, were, first, that Jackson did not wish to retain
in his cabinet an}' person who might be a candidate for the succession ;
second, that the cabinet was originally solely devoted to Jackson, and that

626 ANDREW JACKSON7.

he did not wish any deviation. Of course, this had the effect intended.

In the complication which followed, the affair of Mrs. Eaton, and every*
thing connected with the Florida war, had a part. The first test of the mat
ter arose when Van Buren was appointed minister to England, and a great
contest in the Senate arose as to his confirmation. Finally, Calhoun de
feated this by his casting vote. Nothing more than this was necessary to
induce Jackson to take up the battle against Calhoun as a personal matter,
and it was in connection with this contest that William L. Marcy uttered
the famous words: "to the victors belong the spoils." The cabinet being
thus disrupted, Jackson appointed a new one, of which Edward Livingston,
of Louisiana, was secretary of state; Louis McLane, of Delaware, was sec
retary of the treasury ; Lewis Cass, of Michigan, was secretary of war ;
Levi Woodbury, of New Hampshire, was secretary of the navy ; and Roger
B. Taney, of Maryland, was attorney-general.

Having now come to the end of the private administration of Jackson,
it remains to give a slight outline of the public questions which were con
sidered during his first term. The trade between the American colonies of
Great Britain and the United States had early been made a point of disa
greement between the new power in the west and England. In the nego
tiations of 1818, a complete reciprocity had been offered as to ships and
goods, but England would not surrender the bonds dear to her under her
colonial system. Then arose the policy of retaliation, than which none
more mistaken was ever introduced into the politics of the United States.
It is unnecessary to repeat the provisions of those acts, which under Jeffer
son and his successors were adopted with the intention of crippling English
commerce, and which accomplished so thoroughly the paralysis of all Amer
ican trade. The immediate result of these was to force concessions,
which strengthened the popular faith in the policy of the administration,
and at the same time strengthened the popular bitterness toward Great
Britain. Early in the administration of Jackson, McLane was sent to
England to open negotiations which had failed by reason of the diplomatic
deadlock of 1827. The idea which prompted McLane's appointment, and
which accounted for his policy, was that the election of Jackson had rebuked
the action of the former administration, and had left the new President the
champion of more liberal commercial ideas.

Finally, Congress made a provision that the acts of restriction passed
from 1818 to 1823 should be repealed, and every American ship should be
allowed the same privileges in trading to the West Indies that British ships
had in trading from the United States, and that they should be allowed to con
vey goods from the colonies to any known British port to which English ships
were allowed to carry. This act was all that England required. The colonial
duties were raised ; a differential duty in favor of the North American
colonies was laid, and the trade was open. So ended the most brilliant

THE FIRST ADMINISTRATION. 62/

commercial achievement of the Jackson administration. It was boasted of
as a triumph of diplomacy, yet it accomplished nothing, save what England
demanded; protected nothing which America valued, and was only a suc
cess for the administration in the sense that it for the time being set at rest
some questions which might have been embarrassing, and laid open the way
for settling quietly and unobtrusively, in favor of England, certain matters,
which might else have made trouble for Jackson and the men who were his
supporters and advisers.

The matter of the American claims against France, and against those
nations which had been associated with Erance under Napoleon, for the
spoliation of American commerce, were settled by virtue of a treaty signed
at Paris on July 14, 1831, by which France agreed to pay the sum of twenty-
five millions of francs to the United States.

No matter in connection with the Jackson administration had more
influence immediately, or has had more effect historical!}', than his attitude
toward the Indians of the gulf states. Jackson seemed to have from the
first no idea more elevated regarding the Indians, than that they were usurp
ers of the soil ; that whatever could be clone with them consistently with
his own success, might be done consistently with moral law. It is impos
sible, as unnecessary, here to follow the course of the various treaties that
were made by the Creek, Cherokee, and Chickasaw nations during his
administration ; it is only necessary to say that one of these treaties was
submitted to the supreme court of the United States, as a test case. It
had been contracted by certain chiefs of the nation, as was alleged, under
the influence of liquor. Certain!}' these chiefs were not in a condition per
sonally, or in relation to their fellows, to make a binding treat}', still they
conveyed their lands to the state of Georgia. A law of the state of Georgia
then in force, provided that all lands so transferred, should be divided by
lottery among the citizens of the state. This made a common interest
among these citizens opposed to that of the Indians. The matter came to
the supreme court of the United States as a test case, and was decided in
favor of the Indians. Jackson, the President, refused to exert the power
of the executive to enforce a right which the supreme judicial power of the
country had determined belonged to the Indians, and left them deprived of
their lands and helpless, although their title had been thus approved.

Next to the Indian question came that of internal improvements. So
earl}' as 1802 this matter came up, when it was proposed that a road should
be built to the Northwestern territory. In 1812 a provision was suggested
for a road from Robinstown, Maine, to St. Mary's, Georgia. Thus, at the
very outset, practically came up a difference, which must have killed the
internal improvement system as a permanent policy, had circumstances not
otherwise brought it to an end. To bring to mind a very familiar illustra
tion, like the river and harbor bill, which annually agitates the Congress of

628 ANDREW JACKSON.

to-day, it brought up local matters. The congressman from Maine would
not vote for an improvement in Kentucky, if the congressman from Ken
tucky would not vote for an improvement in Maine ; and this was the whole
key to the difficulty. It was proposed in 1816 that the bonds and profits
of the bank of the United States be devoted to internal improvements. A
bill to that effect was passed, and Madison had the good sense to veto it.
Monroe, in his message, affirmed the same opinion that Madison held.
The judgment of the people was at fault on the subject. Whether it arose
from the existence of the bank or the inexperience of the people as an inde
pendent nation, they still held that an expenditure of funds by the nation
was something in the nature of a right which was limited by locality, and
directed by party. The party in power could not rid itself of the idea that
this expenditure should be made in the direction of its perpetuity. The
sectional element could but believe that every dollar w-hich was expended
for any locality against itself was wrongfully applied. Thus appropriations
for internal improvements ran wild. There is no knowing to what extent
they might have gone, had not Jackson, in May, 1830, put the stamp of his
disapproval upon the policy as a whole, by vetoing a bill providing for a
subscription of the United States to the Maysville and Lexington road —
a road prospectively to penetrate the district in which he was strongest. In
this veto we see one of the rare and unexpected illustrations of that power
in Jackson which his enemies call obstinacy, and his best friends consistency.
It was neither obstinacy nor consistency. To one who looks at this veto
from the standpoint of the historian, it is simply the occasional and very
rare assertion of his own independence against the opinion of men who
would have made him strong at the expense of his personal reputation.
Jackson's worst enemy must see that he had in himself great elements of
strength ; that these elements lacked opportunity of manifestation, perhaps
because in his latter days he was under the influence of men stronger in
method, if not in brain, than himself, and because in his early life he was
denied those privileges which would have given him an opportunity to
compete with men often less than himself in intellectual endowments. It
may be said that Jackson's first intimation of hostility to the policy of
internal improvements was never relinquished. He held in his hands a
bill for the Louisville canal, which was also in his own territory, and
another for the establishment of lighthouses, over a session, and returned
them without his signature. At later sessions his emphatic disapproval of
this policy was absolutely overruled by the vote of Congress, but it may be
said with truth, that following minutely the history of the struggle on this
subject, Jackson from the first held what is now esteemed to be unques
tionably the only correct constitutional view of the subject, that the United
States had properly no traffic with any matter not strictly included within
the constitutionally provided functions of government. Much has been

THE FIRST ADMINISTRATION. 629

written in these pages, drawn as justly as possible from the pages rf history,
and altogether to the disadvantage of Jackson. It is only proper to say that
in this one matter of internal improvements he took and held at once a
wise, a proper, and an unpopular stand upon a great public question.

The tariff question was one of the most serious of the Jackson acminisv-
tration. The fact remains recorded in the political history of to-day, that the
tariff was in that day as it is now, an injustice as regards the purely produc
ing communities of the United States, but the tariff at that time lacked, as
it does not lack now, the advocacy of persons subtle and skillful enough to
blind the eyes of the producers to this fact, consequently the south as a
whole was set absolutely against the tariff policy, which its people considered
taxed them for the benefit of the manufacturing producers of the north and
east. This appeared everywhere throughout the cotton states. Meetings
were held; in private conversation, in stump speeches, even in sermons this
artificial system set up for the protection of the east against the south (as
the\' viewed it; was made the subject of criticism and condemnation. In no
matter relating to public interests did the Jackson men make a worse record
than upon this Again quoting Sumner, the condition of affairs may be
stated: "The industrial interests of twelve millions of people had been
thrown into the arena of economical principles, and there was no information
about the industrial state of the country, or about the special industries; it
being assumed that the legislature could, would, and was about to confer
favors and advantages, there was a scramble to see who should get the most.
At the same time party ambitions and strifes seized upon the industrial inter
ests as capital for President-making." The tariff then adopted has passed
into history as the tariff of abominations. It is without the province of this
work to state its particular provisions: for those the reader must turn to
broader treatises ; yet it remains a fact that the wildest vagaries of modern
protectionists Irive produced nothing more absurd."

The matter of nullification had its head and front in Calhoun, and may
be said to have arisen from the tariff. As has been said before, the south
erners were bitterly opposed to protection. They felt that the operation of
the system was distinctively against their interest ; imposing a tax upon
them for the benefit of others who happened to hold the balance of the fed
eral power. The\" looked upon it as an experiment, for which they had paid
the expense, and which, having proved a failure, should be abandoned. As
early as 1828 the first declaration of nullification principles in relation to the
tariff was introduced by McDuffie, of South Carolina. He made a careful
review of the subject, and declared as a result that the tax fell upon the
southern states while the benefit accrued to those of the north. It is impos
sible to follow here the intricate course of this insidious doctrine of nullifica
tion, which certainly had a degree of excuse in the state of affairs which
then existed. Its primary statement \vas this, that in so far as any provision

(53O ANDREW JACKSON.

of the Constitution protected or excused a measure which was inimical to
the national rights of a given state, that doctrine was null and void. From
this word "null" originated the phrase so significant in the history of
America, "Nullification."

Jackson, in 1831, wrote a letter to certain citizens of Charleston, who
had invited him to deliver a 4th of July oration in that city, in which he indi
cated clearly his opposition to nullification. This announcement came as a
surprise to the south, and remains to-day as a surprise to every person who
has studied Jackson's antecedents and associations. He nullified the Consti
tution in 1815, when he imprisoned a judge of the supreme court, in New
Orleans, for interposing a process of that court between himself and a prisoner
whom he had arrested. He nullified the Constitution in 1817, when he hanged
two chiefs of the Creek nation who had been deccyed aboard an American
man-of-war at St. Marks ; he nullified the Constitution in the same year
when he executed two British subjects in Florida, against whom there was
not even fair prinia facie evidence ; he nullified the Constitution in Florida
in a later year when he expelled a United States judge from its limits for
daring to release a second prisoner from his custody under process of the
court ; — yet he was opposed to nullification.

The great question of the Jackson administration was that of tin
national bank. The bank of North America was first proposed and formed
previous to the adoption of the Constitution. From that time on it wa~?
made the subject of popular and partisan contests. When, after the acces
sion of Washington, Hamilton founded the bank of the United States, h?
met the same doubts and disapproval, reinforced by no less a man thar
Thomas Jefferson. From this time on, until Jackson had passed into pri
vate life, there never was a day when the national bank was not a subjec"-
for controversy.

The old bank instituted by Hamilton, went out of existence, and left
for the country only the local state banks with their flimsy currency, worth
whatever one deemed it worth ; received in one place, rejected in another :
without a basis of anything valuable, dependent purely upon the hopeless
credit of local institutions. In the session of 1815 and 1816 there came up ?
plan for a bank intended to accomplish a return to specie payment, rathe/
than (as had been the former national banks) a reserve for the national gov
ernment. Its charter became a law in the spring of 1816. In its constitu
tion it approved the wisdom of the banking system which Jefferson had so-
strongly opposed in the early days, by very closely following that of Alex
ander Hamilton. It was far from perfect ; it was equally far from being
what its enemies would have men believe, either a fraud upon the public or
a creation of a financial visionary. It was first established in Philadelphia,
with nineteen branches, which ultimately grew to twenty-five. Nominally,
specie payments were resumed in February, 1817; after which time, af

THE FIRST ADMINISTRATION. 63 I

Congress declared, the treasury of the United States received on1}-
specie, or notes of the bank of the United States or of specie paying banl.s,
or treasury notes, in payment of indebtedness to the government. It wl.I
thus be seen that Congress from the first legislated in favor of this new
scheme.

The legal restraints upon its circulation did not permit of a sufficient
currency to transact its business. There grew up then, in 1827, a system of
branch drafts issued by any one of these twenty-five outside branches of the*
bank, which were passed into circulation, and in effect, being accepted by
the main bank, increased its circulation. It will be seen that this expedient
introduced an indefinite and irresponsible inflation of the currency. The
bank received the deposits of the United States. It was the accepted and
authorized fiscal agent of the United States; it represented, as nearly as
anything in those days could represent, the treasury of the United States
as it now exists. Every note and draft of that bank bore the endorsement
of the general government ; consequently the utterly unlimited and irre
sponsible issue of branch drafts by these twenty-five scattered and
unrestrained outside agencies, resulted in producing a currency uncon
templated ; unprovided for; irredeemable; a currency which could only
result, for the bank itself and for the people who accepted it for
just debts, in irretrievable ruin. It should be borne in mind that the United
States was a large stockholder in the bank of the United States. In 1829,
and thereafter, there arose not only in the mind of Jackson, but in the
opinion of many who were his opponents, an idea that the bank of the
United States was not only an objectionable financial element in the govern
ment, but was being used for political purposes.

Congress declared the treasury ought to receive only specie or notes of
the Bank of the United States or of specie paying banks or treasury notes.
It was the old eff >rt to give equality between paper and coin by legislative
fiat. During its first two years the directors of the bank played with it
like a new toy, and carried it to the verge of ruin. In 1819 Langdon
Cheves, of South Carolina, became its president, and by patient and faith
ful labor succeeded in placing it in a condition of comparative financial
soundness. In 1827 Congress passed a law which required that the officers
of the parent bank should sign all notes issued by branches. This was an
enormous task and to avoid it, in an unlucky moment the idea of branch
drafts was suggested. They were drawn by any and all branches, upon the
parent bank, to the order of a branch officer, endorsed by him and placed
in circulation. This, of course, opened the way to unlimited and utterly
irresponsible inflation of a currency already far enough removed from
stability.

Organized and conducted as it was, that the bank should become mixed
with politics was inevitable. It did become so involved, and its downfall

632 ANDREW JACKSON.

was the result Nicholas Biddle, an honest but somewhat opinionated man,
a gentleman and a scholar, was the president of the bank in 1823, and
thereafter. He was a good financier after the loose ideas of the day, but a
very impolitic man, and his independent refusal to be governed by Ingham,
secretary of the treasury, in the matter of the removal of an officer of the
Portsmouth (New Hampshire) bank, supposed to be inimical to Jackson,
led to the waging of a bitter and successful war on the part of the adminis
tration and against the bank. There is no question that the real explanation of
this contest was the desire on the part of Ingham to secure the bank to the
administration as a political machine, and Biddle's determination to run it
on business principles. In Jackson's first message he called the attention of
Congress to the fact that the charter of the bank would expire in 1836, and
said there were grave doubts as to the expediency of its recharter and as to
its constitutionality on the part of a large portion of his fellow-citizens.

This reference to popular feeling in a presidential message was a new
idea to the people, and caused no little sensation. The evident declaration
of war upon the bank, at the outset of his administration, created alarm,
and, from that time, the struggle between the bank and the administration
was understood to be to the death.

Again, in 1830, the President called attention to the bank issue and, in
a very independent way, proposed a bank which should be a branch of the
treasury department. No notice was taken of this recommendation during
the session of 1830—31, but several test questions which came up indirectly,
clearly indicated that the bank was in the ascendant.

With this meagre outline of the first administration, it is necessary to
pass to the second.

WILLIAM WIRT.

THE SECOND ADMINISTPAT1ON. 633

CHAPTER V.

THE SECOND ADM IN1STRATION— CONCLUSION.

THE campaign of 1832 \vas an easy one for Jackson, by reason of the
division in the opposition, caused by the murder of Morgan, the
Batavia bricklayer. William \Yirt for president, Amos Ellmaker for vice-
president, was the ticket of the anti-masons. Clay was the regular National
Republican candidate, while Jackson, supported by a united, organized, and
well disciplined army, was at the head of the Democratic ticket.

The direct issue made by the Republicans, under the leadership of
Clay, was the preservation of the United States bank, and was met by
the Democrats, led by Jackson, by a determination to overthrow and
destroy it. Jackson loved a fight. He was a formidable adversary in any
conflict, whether political or military, in which he chose to take a part.
He never was more in earnest than in his opposition to the bank. The
campaign became a struggle in which the popularity of Jackson was arrayed
against the popularity of the bank. Charges were formulated against it
about as follows: (i.) Usury. (2.) Using branch drafts as currency. (3.)
Sales of coin by weight. (4.) Sales of public stocks, against charter pro
hibition. (5.) Gifts to roads, canals, etc. (6.) Building houses to rent or
sell. These were the particulars in which the bank was alleged to have acted
illegally. It was also charged with : (a) subsidizing the press ; (b) favor
itism ; (c) exporting specie and interfering with its normal movement; (d)
improper increase of its branches ; (e) improper expansion of the circula
tion ; (f) failure to serve the public; (g) with mismanagement of the public
deposits; (h) postponement of payment of three per cent securities; (i)
incomplete number of directors; (j) large expenditures for printing; (k)
large contingent expenditures; (1) loans to members of Congress in advance

ANDREW JACKSON.

of appropriations ; (m) refusal to give a list of Connecticut stockholders for
purposes of taxation ; (r) usurpation of control of the bank by exchange
committee of the board of directors to the exclusion of the other directors.
The election resulted in an overwhelming victory for Jackson, who
received 219 electoral votes, to 49 for Clay, while the popular vote was
707,217 for the former, but 328,561 for the latter, and 254,720 for Wirt.

The project finally adopted by Jackson, was to replace the bank of the
United States as a public depository, by distributing the monies of the peo
ple among state banks in the leading cities, selecting a Washington bank as
the central depository and correspondent. The Bank of the Metropolis, of
Washington, was chosen as this central fiscal agent, but refusing to admit a
representative of the government among its officials, the idea of a central
bank was given over and R. M. Whitney was named as financial agent of
the treasury, with the duty of corresponding with and overseeing the vari
ous banks of deposit. This gave him tremendous and dangerous power
which it was later discovered he grossly abused.

The first cause of Jackson's enmity to the Bank of the United States,
was ostensibly that it had been a political engine ; really that it had been
made a political engine against himself. This new system was from its con
ception intended to form a strong and connected Jackson organization ; the
hundreds of letters received from banks applying for deposits, since they be
came public property, had, as the burthen of their claim, not the financial
strength and safety of the institutions, but the fealty of their officers and
stockholders to the cause of Jackson. These applications were considered,
accepted or dismissed as a political matter, and, if the Bank of the United
States had soiled its garments with the smut of partizanship, Jackson
dragged the whole financial system of the United States through the mire.

When all was done, how did the Government stand under the new
system ? Before, the Bank of the United States, chartered by Congress
and under the direct supervision and control of the Government, had paid a
heavy bond for the privilege of acting as custodian of the public funds.
This bank was unquestionably solvent, — so safe that its stock fell but one
and one-half per cent, upon the announcement of Jackson's intention of
withdrawing the deposits, and almost immediately recovered. It had its
abuses, but these were not serious, and, such as they were, could have
been readily remedied by the provisions of a rechartering act. A larger
bond would have been promptly, if not willingly, paid, and the issue of
branch drafts was susceptible of easy regulation. The new system placed
the funds of the United States in the custody of more than twenty banks,
in almost as many states, chartered under various laws, some solvent and
responsible, some questionable, some clearly unsafe. The relations of the
Government with the Bank of the United States were slow in being classed;
the business of years could not be settled in a day. Jackson feared that

THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 635

the old bank would take revenge upon the new depositories by peremp
torily demanding a settlement of balances. This very simple and proper
demand was then considered an act of cruelty and injustice. To guard
against possible injury by such action, he caused to be delivered to the
various banks, heavy drafts of the treasury against the balance of Govern
ment deposits still remaining with the old bank. No such revengeful effort
was made, but there was great abuse of these drafts on the part of the state
banks. The president of the Union bank of Maryland cashed a Govern
ment draft of one hundred thousand dollars, and used the proceeds in stock
speculations; the Manhattan Company used one of the drafts for five hun
dred thousand dollars, and other banks of doubtful solvency carried the
drafts among their assets, in order to make such a showing as to be entitled
to receive the deposits. All these wrongful acts the administration did its best
to conceal, and only the inquisitiveness of Congress finally exposed them.
On the 9th of December, 1833, the Bank of the United States memo
rialized Congress against the removal of the deposits. Its champion in the
Senate was Henry Clay, while Thomas Benton led the administration part}'
in opposition. For a time the friends of the bank were in the majority in
both houses, defeating all measures in regard to the removal of the deposits,
and succeeded in adopting a resolution offered by Clay censuring Jackson
for assuming power and authority not conferred by the Constitution and the
laws, but derogatory to both; but later, in 1836, Benton succeeded in obtain
ing the adoption of a resolution expunging the record of censure from the
journal of the Senate. Thus was Jackson vindicated. It was a source of
ereat gratification to him to be thus exonerated.

o *>

The deposits were finally removed from the Bank of the United States
and distributed among state banks, which came to be called "pet banks."
Thus did Jackson gain his point. The charter of the United States bank
expired March 3d, in 1836. The Pennsylvania legislature was induced to
grant the bank a state charter. The act was dated February 18, 1836. It
is conceded that this legislative enactment was consummated through fraud
and corruption, as the bank agreed to pay for its charter the sum of two
million five hundred thousand dollars as a bonus, one hundred thousand
dollars per year for twenty years for school purposes, to loan the state a
million a year at four per cent., and subscribe six hundred and forty thou
sand dollars to railroads and turnpikes. These unwise engagements ulti
mately caused its ruin. The bank failed three times in the five years suc
ceeding that of its state charter, viz: May IO, 1837; October 9, 1839 ; and
February 4, 1841, when it was wholly ruined. The stockholders lost every
dollar of their investment.

The common verdict has been that the ultimate failure and ruin of the
bank proved that Jackson was right in the unrelenting war which he waged
against this at one time great and really valuable financial institution. Up

036 ANDREW JACKSON.

to the time of its state charter the bank was sound, strong, and without
doubt prudently and wisely managed. During the next five years it
launched into the wildest and most reckless methods of banking, endeavored
to prove itself a public benefactor, and was robbed and plundered by its offi
cers. Its end was ignominious and brought disgrace upon all concerned in
its management as well as upon the legislature that granted it its new
charter. The ruin of the bank served but to increase the popularity of
Jackson, but an honest regard for truth and candor compels the student of
history to admit that the bank war up to the year 1836 was unwise, unjust,
and therefore discreditable to Jackson.

In 1834 Jackson became involved in very important diplomatic relations
with France. By virtue of the treaty of 1831, the French nation agreed to
pay the United States certain sums of money, and had failed to keep her
engagements. Jackson in his annual message of 1834, called attention in
his characteristically emphatic manner to this failure upon the part of
France. He contended that if the French nation did not discharge her en
gagements before a certa;n time Congress would be justified in passing a
law authorizing reprisals. The French journals called this a menace, and
maintained that France could not then pay without dishonor. In Decem
ber, 1834, the French chambers refused by vote to appropriate money to
pay American indemnities; but the following April they passed the appro
priation, stipulating, however, that no money could be paid until "satisfac
tory explanations" of the President's message should be received. In his
message of 1835 Jackson reviewed the whole matter, declared he had never
u.sed menace, and said he should n«ver apologize. In 1836, January iSth, the
President sent to the Senate a special message on the relations to France,
recommending coercive measures — proposing to exclude French ships and
products from the ports of the United States. The English government
at this point offered its services as mediator, and obtained from France a
statement that the President's message of 1835 had removed the bad im
pressions of that of 1834, and thus the breach was healed, and the indemnity
was ordered paid March 19, 1836. The entire diplomatic negotiation was
creditable to Jackson, who was in the right and firmly maintained it, while
France's part in the affair proved rather humiliating.

In 1833 slavery was abolished in the British West Indies, and the event
produced greatly increased agitation of the slavery question in the United
States. New societies were organized, Congress was petitioned to abolish
slavery in the District of Columbia, and anti-slavery pamphlets and news
papers were sent to the south, causing in that section the most vehement
indignation. The people at Charlestown, South Carolina, insisted that their
postmaster should not deliver these incendiary documents to the persons
to whom they were addressed. That personage appealed to the postmaster-
general, Amos Kendall, for orders. Kendall, August 4, 1835, replied in

THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 637

an ambiguous way, throwing the Charlestown postmaster upon his own dis
cretion in the matter, but added: " By no act of mine, official, or private
could I be induced to aid, knowingly, in giving circulation to papers of this
description, directly or indirectly. \Ye owe an obligation to the laws, but
a higher one to the communities in which we live ; and, if the former be
perverted to destroy the latter, it is patriotism to disregard them. Enter
taining these views I cannot sanction and will not condemn your refusal to
deliver this most inflammatory, incendiary and insurrectionary matter."

The public excitement growing out of this action of the anti-slavery
societies was increased by our complications with Mexico. That country
had abolished slavery in 1829. Meanwhile American citizens from the
southern states had settled in Texas, taking with them their slaves. They
resented the abolition decree, and Mexico was obliged to make the abolition
nugatory as to Texas. In 1829 the United States endeavored to buy Texas,
offering five million dollars for it. In 1830 the Mexican government forbade
Americans to settle in Texas. In 1833 a revolution broke out in Mexico,
and in 1835 when Santa Anna tried to extend his authority over Texas, he
was defied and defeated. In 1836 Texas declared her independence. She
adopted a constitution with the strongest provisions in favor of slavery.
Under the leadership of Samuel Houston, the Texans vanquished the Mexi
cans, and April 21, 1836, at the decisive battle of San Jacinto, routed and
captured Santa Anna. In July, 1836, Congress declared that the independ
ence of Texas should be acknowledged as soon as Texas had proved her
ability to maintain it. In 1837 tnc Senate recognized her independence by
a vote of twenty-three to nineteen. The same year the Texas agent made
a proposal for annexation. The opposition to annexation was very strong
in the north, and the proposition was declined. The next move was a pre
sentation of charges of a most frivolous character by the United States
against Mexico. Mexico proposed arbitration in regard to them, which
proposition was declined. The war with Mexico, which is universally re
garded in this day as unjust, and as a shame to the American nation, finally
took place, (although not while Jackson was President) ostensibly to satisfy
these charges, but really for the purpose of robbing Mexico of Texas, and
obtaining more slave territory for the south.

During Jackson's second administration the new nation rapidly grew in
material resources, in population and in influence. The country was rich
in territorial possession, and the people were full of energy, and the
desire to own and develop landed property was widely prevalent.
The nation began to be conscious for the first time of her giant
energies, her innate strength and the wonderful possibilities of growth
and of power that were surely hers. There came, as an outgrowth
of so great activity and rapid progress, many social commotions and a
wide-spread disregard for law and order. It was an era of brawls and duels,

638 ANDREW JACKSON.

of hanging negroes and abolitionists at the South, and of producing riots
by mobs of rowdies, trades-unionists and anti-bank organizations at the
North. Still the country prospered, and Jackson's firmness, his iron will,
his courage in maintaining the rights due this country from foreign powers,
had much to do in obtaining a proper recognition from older and more
powerful nations; and the fact that the United States was beginning to be
looked upon abroad as a rapidly growing nation, had its effect in increasing
the tide of immigration from the old countries to the new one. Her his
tory, her fortunes, her government, her resources, and the extent of her
territory began to be more widely discussed than ever before, and the fact
that the new country afforded rare opportunities for all who were ambitious
to prosper became more widely known.

In 1834 an important case — that of Briscoe vs. The Bank of the Com
monwealth of Kentucky — was argued before the Supreme Court, and in
1837 was decided by that body. The case was so remarkable both for the
earnestness and warmth with which it was contested, and for the important
results which were reached by virtue of its decision, that it is deserving of a
short review. In 1830 a promissory note was given by Briscoe and others
which was not paid when due, the defendants pleading in the State Circuit
Court "no consideration" "on the ground that the note was given for a
loan of notes of the Bank of the Commonwealth which were ' bills of credit'
within the prohibition of the Constitution, and therefore of no value. " The
court decided in favor of the bank, and that decision was affirmed by the
higher State court on appeal, whereupon the defendants brought it before
the Supreme Court of the United States on a writ of error, which at that
time consisted of seven judges, of whom Marshall was the Chief Justice.
The court did not reach a decision, by reason of a majority of the whole
bench failing to concur in pronouncing the notes of the Bank of the Com
monwealth bills of credit under the decision of Craig vs. Missouri. Briscoe's
case came up again in 1837, ^vc °f tne court being appointees of Jackson.
The decisions of the State courts were affirmed, it being held that a bill of
credit " is a paper issued by the sovereign power, containing a pledge of its
faith and designed to circulate as money," — that is, the State must issue the
notes and pledge its faith for their payment in order to constitute them bills
of credit. The decision, placing as it did, the notes of a Commonwealth
bank beyond the reach of the prohibition of the Constitution, made it pos
sible and indeed easy for any State to avoid the constitutional prohibition.
A species of wild-cat banking ensued in the Southwestern States as a con
sequence, bringing in the end disaster and ruin to thousands. Marshall in
1834 and Story in 1837 held that the bank notes were bills of credit; had
this opinion prevailed the system of wild and reckless banking which dev
astated the West between 1837 and 1850, would never have been inaugu
rated.

THE SECOND ADMINISTRATION. 639

In 1835 an insane man by the name of Richard Lawrence attempted ta
shoot Jackson in the rotunda of the capitol by snapping two pistols at him,
neither of which was discharged. The President refused to believe the man
insane, but maintained he was the tool of a personal enemy. Upon trial,
however, Lawrence was acquitted upon the strongest evidence of insanity,
and was given into custody as an insane person.

It was during Jackson's second administration that the name Locofocos
came to be applied to the democrats. A faction of the party calling itself
the " Equal rights part}'," or the " Jeffersonian Anti-monopolists," revolted
and promulgated the following platform : No distinction between men save
merit; gold and silver the only legitimate money ; no monopolies ; strict
adherence to the Constitution; no bank charters by states; approval of
Jackson's administration; election of president by direct popular vote. The
platform was popular, and the equal rights wing of the party rapidly grew
in numbers and influence. October 29th, both factions met in Tammany
hall to nominate a congressman and other officers. The old faction entered
by the back door, and effected an organization before the front entrance was
opened. At the hour for meeting the equal rights party poured in, nomi
nated and elected their chairman, ignoring their brethren of the older faction.
The latter left the hall in disgust, but before going they took care to extin
guish the lights, leaving the anti-monopolists in the dark. The anti-monopo
lists, however, had provided themselves against such an emergency with
locofoco matches and locofoco cigars — cigars with self-lighting matches
at the end — and thus rekindled their lights and made their nominations.
On the next day the Courier and Enquirer dubbed the equal rights party
the Locofocos — a name that fastened upon that faction and later passed to
the whole Jackson-Van lUrren party.

Van Buren was Jackson's preference for the Presidency in 1836, and
was elected, receiving one hundred and seventy electoral votes to seventy-
three for Harrison, and had a majority over all candidates of forty-six.
Three days after the inauguration of his successor, Jackson started for his
home in Tennessee. At all points along his homeward journey he received
evidences of the people's regard. Andrew Jackson was their idol, and he
never lost his hold upon his popularity with the American people. At
Nashville he lived a quiet life, save that he was frequently sought out by
those who were anxious to obtain his influence in favor of any cherished
project or measure. In 1844 he bent all his influence to secure the election
of Polk, which was his last public activity. He died on the 8th day of Junef
1845, in his seventy-ninth year, the most successful American citizen who
had as yet appeared in public life. His ambition had been fully satisfied; he
had wielded the largest measure of power, had beaten his enemies in nearly
every struggle -in which he engaged, and died loved and honored by the
majority of his countrymen.

640 ANDREW JACKSON.

Diverse as have been the views of the people as to the character of
Andrew Jackson, and as to the good or evil effect of his teaching and
example upon the American people, and especially upon American poli
tics, there has been no difference as to the depth of that impress, or the
wonderful -personality of the man. When the news of his death was sent
over the land, there were many disposed to criticise and resent the high
eulogies that were pronounced upon him by those whose example and
leader he had been, and a few who belittled his powers and laid his
achievements upon opportunity and chance; yet sober history, viewing
him from this distance, must pronounce upon the injustice of that charge.
He 'vas one of the great men of America, whether viewed in the light of
his achievements or in the obedient following that supported his fortunes
through many troubled years, and bequeathed to after generations the
views and prejudices they had imbibed from him. The semi-official holi
day that is observed on the eighth of January — the anniversary of the
battle of New Orleans — by the democracy of many states, is but one form
of that admiration in which the hero of that battle was held by men who
were living long ere he passed away, and have impressed upon those
about them the deep feeling with which they venerate the memory of
their old-time chief.

While many eulogies of the dead were pronounced ere Jackson was laid
in the tomb, there were few of a more direct and sincere character, and
that touched his inner life more closely than the tender words spoken by
Roger Taney, chief-justice of the United States, when he said: "The
whole civilized world already know how bountifully he was endowed by
Providence with these high gifts which qualified him to le;'.d, both as a
soldier and a statesman. But those only who were around him in times
of anxious deliberation, when great and mighty interests were at stake,
and who were with him, also, in the retired scenes of domestic life, in the
rnidst of his family and friends, can fully appreciate his innate love of jus
tice, his hatred of oppression in every shape it would assume, his mag
nanimity, his entire freedom from any feeling of personal hostility to his
political opponents, and his constant and unvarying kindness and gentle
ness to his friends." As another said: " His faults, whatever they were,
were such as a majority of the American citizens of his generation could
easily forgive. His virtues, whatever they were, were such as a majority
of American citizens of the last generation could warmly admire. People
may hold what opinions they will respecting the merits or importance of
this man, but no one can deny that his invincible popularity is worthy of
consideration ; for what we lovingly admire, that, in some degree, we are.
It is chiefly as the representative man of the combative-rebellious period
of American history that he is interesting to the student of Ameiican his
tory. . . . The circumstances of his childhood nourished Kis pecuh

ESTIMATE OF HIM AND HIS DEEDS. 64!

iaritics. He was a poor boy in a new country, without a father to teach
him moderation, obedience and self-control. The border warfare of the
Revolution whirled him hither and thither ; made him fierce and exact
ing ; taught him self reliance ; accustomed him to regard his opponent as
a foe. Those who are not for us are against us, and they who are against
us are to be put to death, was the Carolina doctrine during the later years
of the war. The early loss of his elder brother, his own hard lot in the
Camden prison, the terrible and needless suffering of his younger brother,
the sad but heroic death of his mother, were events not calculated to give
the softer traits the mastery within him. All the influences of his early
years tended to develop a very positive cast of character, to make him
self-helpful, decisive, indifferent to danger, impatient of contradiction and
disposed to follow up a quarrel to the death."

Mr. Parton's estimate of Jackson and his deeds may not be altogether
true, yet it is essentially in the direction of truth: ''Autocrat as he was,
Andrew Jackson loved the people, the common people, the sons and
daughters of toil, as truly as they loved him and believed in them as
they believed in him. lie was in accord with his generation. He had a
clear perception that the toiling millions arc not a class in the community,
but arc the community. He knew and felt that government should exist
only for the benefit of the governed ; that the strong are strong only that
they may aid the weak ; that the rich are rightfully rich only that they may
so combine and direct the labors of the poor as to make labor more profit
able to the laborer, lie did not comprehend these truths as they are
demonstrated by Jefferson and Spencer, but he had an intuitive and
instinctive perception of them. And in his most autocratic moments he
really thought that he was fighting the battle of the people, and doing
their will while baffling the purposes of their representatives. If he had
been a man of knowledge as well as force, he would have taken the part
of the people more effectually, and left to his successors an increased
power of doing good, instead of better facilities for doing harm. He
appears always to have meant well. But his ignorance of law, history,
politics, science, of everything which he who governs a country ought to
know, was extreme. ... In his wild, fiery way he loved justice, but
when excited by passion he was totally incapable of discriminating be
tween right and wrong. He was like his own Mississippi, which flows on
with useful placidity until the levee gives way, and then is instantly con
verted into a roaring, rushing, devastating torrent — and the levee is made
of material that cannot resist an extraordinary pressure. . . . He
came home from the wars, the pride, the darling of the Nation. No man
in this country had ever been subjected to such a torrent of applause, and
few men have been less prepared to withstand it by education, reflection
an i experience. He accepted the verdict which the Nation passed upon

642 ANDREW JACKSON.

his conduct. Well pleased with himself and with his countrymen, he wrote
those lofty letters to Mr. Monroe, the burthen of which is that a Presi
dent of the United States should rise superior to party spirit, appoint no
man to office for party reasons, but be President of the whole people,
judging every applicant for Presidential favor by his conduct alone. His
feud with Adair and his quarrel with General Scott soon showed that,
with all his popularity and fine words, he was the same Andrew Jackson
as of old, unable to bear opposition and prone to believe the worst of
those who did not yield to him implicitly. . . . He was started for
the Presidency. He was passive ; he was clay in the hands of two or three
friendly potters. Tennessee took up his name with enthusiasm ; Pennsyl
vania brought it prominently before the Nation; he wrote his tariff letter;
he voted for internal improvements ; the Monroe correspondence was pub^
lished ; he won a plurality of electoral votes, but was not elected. His
disappointment was keen, and his wrath burned anew and with increased
fury against the man who had given the office to Mr. Adams. ... If
General Jackson was passive during the campaign of 1824, he was passive
no longer. The exposure of the circumstances attending his marriage,
accompanied by unjust comments and gross exaggerations, the reflections
upon his mother, the revival of every incident of his life that could be
unfavorably construed, kept him in a blaze of wrath. Determined to
triumph, he took an active part, at home and abroad, in the canvass. He
was elected ; but, in the moment of his triumph, his wife, than whom no
wife was ever more tenderly beloved, was lost to him forever. The
calamity that robbed life of all its charm deepened, and, as it were, sanctified
his political resentments. His enemies had slain her, he thought. Adams
had permitted, if he had not prompted, the circulation of the calumnies
that destroyed her. Clay, he firmly believed, had originated the crusade
against her; for this strange being could believe any evil thing of one
whom he cordially hated. Broken in spirit, broken in health, the old
man, cherishing what he deemed a holy wrath, but meaning to serve his
country well, went to Washington, to find it crowded with hungry claim
ants for reward." His work there has been already given ; for the influ
ences of that work, no mere sketch of historical fact can be adequate, but
must be sought for in the traditions and life of the American people; in
the political conditions, beliefs and practices of to-day.

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Full text of "The American nation : its executive, legislative, political, financial, judicial and industrial history : embracing sketches of the lives of its chief magistrates, its eminent statesmen, financiers, soldiers and jurists, with monographs on subjects of peculiar historical interest"

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