CHARLES SUMNER.
FAMOUS
AMERICAN STATESMEN
BY
SARAH K. BOLTON
**t
AUTHOR OF "POOR BOYS WHO BECAME FAMOUS," "GIRLS WHO
BECAME FAMOUS," " FAMOUS AMERICAN AUTHORS,"
" STORIES FROM LIFE," " FROM HEART
AND NATURE," ETC.
" A nation has no possessions so valuable as its great men,
living or dead." — HON. JOHN BIGELOW.
NEW YORK
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
No. 13 ASTOR PLACE
COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & Co.
ELECTROTVPED
Bv C. J. PETERS AND SON, BOSTON.
PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, BOSTON.
THOMAS Y. CROWELL.
RESPECTED AS A PUBLISHER
AND
ESTEEMED AS A FRIEND.
PREFACE.
"WiTH the great, one's thoughts and manners
easily become great; . . . what this country
longs for is personalities, grand persons, to coun-
teract its materialities," says Emerson. Such lives
as are sketched in this book are a constant inspira-
tion, both to young and old. They teach Garfield's
oft-repeated maxim, that " the genius of success is
still the genius of labor." They teach patriotism
— a deeper love for and devotion to America.
They teach that life, with some definite and noble
purpose, is worth living.
I have written of Abraham Lincoln, one of our
greatest and best statesmen, in " Poor Boys Who
Became Famous," which will explain its omission
from this volume.
S. K. B.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
GEORGE WASHINGTON ...» 1
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 38
THOMAS JEFFERSON 67
ALEXANDER HAMILTON 99
ANDREW JACKSON 133
DANIEL WEBSTER 177
HENRY CLAY . . .' 230
CHARLES SUMNER 268
ULYSSES S. GRANT 307
JAMES A. GARFIELD 361
vii
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
rriHE " purest figure in history," wrote William
J- E. Gladstone of George Washington.
When Frederick the Great sent his portrait to
Washington, he sent with it these remarkable
words : " From the oldest general in Europe to the
greatest general in the world."
Lord Brougham said: "It will be the duty of
the historian, and the sage of all nations, to let no
occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious
man ; and until time shall be no more will a test
of the progress which our race has made in wisdom
and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to
the immortal name of Washington."
At Bridge's Creek, Maryland, in a substantial
home, overlooking the Potomac, George Washing-
ton was born, February 22, 1732. His father,
Augustine, was descended from a distinguished
family in England — William de Hertburn, a
knight who owned the village of Wessyngton
(Washington). He married, at the age of twenty-
one, Jane Butler, who died thirteen years after-
ward. Two years after her death he married
1
2 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
Mary Ball, a beautiful girl, of decided character
and sterling common-sense. She became a good
mother to his two motherless children; two hav-
ing died in early childhood.
Six children were born to them, George being the
eldest. The opportunities for education in the new
world, especially on a plantation, were limited.
From one of his father's tenants, the sexton of the
parish, George learned to read, write, and cipher.
He was fond of military things, and organized
among the scholars sham-fights and parades ; tak-
ing the position usually of commander-in-chief, by
common consent. This love of war might have
come through the influence of his half-brother
Lawrence, who had been in battles in the West
Indies.
When George was twelve, his father died sud-
denly, leaving Mary Ball, at thirty-seven, to care
for her own five children, one having died in
infancy, and two boys by the first marriage.
Fortunately, a large estate was left them, which
she was to control till they became of age.
While she loved her children tenderly, she ex-
acted the most complete obedience. She was dig-
nified and firm, yet cheerful, and possessed an
unusually sweet voice. To his mother's intelli-
gence and moral training George attributed his
success in life. She would gather her children
about her daily, and read to them from Matthew
Hale's " Contemplations, Divine and Moral." The
book had been loved by the first wife, who wrote
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 3
in it, "Jane Washington." Under this George's
mother wrote, "and Mary Washington." This
book was always preserved with tender care at
Mount Vernon, in later years. Such teaching the
boy never forgot. When he was thirteen, he wrote
" Rules of courtesy and decent behavior in com-
pany and conversation," one hundred and ten
maxims, which seemed to have great influence over
him.
At fourteen, he desired to enter the navy, and a
midshipman's warrant was procured by his brother
Lawrence. Now he could see the world, and was
happy at the prospect. All winter long, the
mother's heart ached as she thought of the separa-
tion, and finally, when his clothing had been taken
on board of a British man-of-war, her affection
triiimphed, and the lad was kept in his Virginia
home ; kept for a great work. However disap-
pointed he may have been, his mother's word was
law. Those who learn to obey in youth learn also
how to govern in later life. George went back to
school to study arithmetic and land-surveying.
He was thorough in his work, and his record
books, still preserved, are neat and exact.
It is never strange that a boy who idolizes his
mother should think other women lovable. At
fifteen, the bashful, manly boy had given his heart
to a girl about his own age, and it was long before
he could conquer the affection. A year later he
wrote to a friend, " I might, was my heart disen-
gaged, pass my time very pleasantly, as there's
4 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
a very agreeable young lady lives in the same
house ; but as that's only adding fuel to fire, it
makes me the more uneasy, for by often and una-
voidably being in company with her revives my
former passion for your Lowland Beauty ; whereas,
was I to live more retired from young women, I
might in some measure alleviate my sorrows, by
burying that chaste and troublesome passion in the
grave of oblivion."
Years afterwards, the son of this "Lowland
Beauty," General Henry Lee, became a favorite
with Washington in the Revolutionary War; pos-
sibly all the more loved from tender recollections
of the mother. General Lee was the father of
General Robert E. Lee of the Confederate Army,
in the Civil War.
At sixteen, the real work of "Washington's life
began. Lord Fairfax of Virginia desired his large
estates beyond the Blue Ridge to be surveyed,
and he knew that the youth had the courage to
meet the Indians in the wilderness, and would do
his work well.
Washington and a friend set out on horseback
for the valley called by the Indians Shenandoah,
"the daughter of the stars." He made a record
daily of the beauty of the trees — every refined
soul loves trees almost as though they were human
— and the richness of the soil, and selected the best
sites for townships. In his diary he says, "A
blowing, rainy night, our straw upon which we
were lying took fire, but I was luckily preserved by
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 5
one of our men awaking when it was in a flame."
For three years he lived this exposed life, sleeping
out-of-doors, gaining self-reliance, and a knowledge
of the Indians, which knowledge he was soon to
need.
Trouble had begun already in the Ohio valley,
between the French and English, in their claims to
the territory. No wonder a sachem asked, " The
French claim all the land 011 one side of the Ohio,
the English claim all the land on the other side — -
now, where does the Indians' land lie ? "
Virginia began to make herself ready for a war
which seemed inevitable. She divided her prov-
ince into military districts, and placed one in
charge of the young surveyor, only nineteen, who
was made adjutant-general with the rank of major.
Thus early did the sincere, self-poised young man
take upon himself great responsibilities. Wash-
ington at once began to make himself ready for
his duties, by studying military tactics ; taking
lessons in field-work from his brother Lawrence,
and sword exercise from a soldier. This drill was
broken in upon for a time by the illness and death
of Lawrence, of whom he was very fond, and whom
he accompanied to the Barbadoes. Here George
took small-pox, from which he was slightly marked
through life. The only child of Lawrence soon
died, and Mount Vernon came to George by will.
He was now a person of wealth, but riches did not
spoil him. He did not seek ease ; he sought work
and honor.
6 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
Matters were growing worse in the Ohio valley.
The Virginians had erected forts at what is now
Pittsburg; and the French, about fifteen miles
south of Lake Erie. Governor Dinwiddie deter-
mined to make a last remonstrance with the French
who should thus presume to come upon English
territory. The way to their forts lay through an
unsettled wilderness, a distance of from live hun-
dred to six hundred miles. Some Indian tribes
favored one nation ; some the other. The gov-
ernor offered this dangerous commission — a visit
to the French — to several persons, who hastened
to decline with thanks the proffered honor.
Young Washington, with his brave heart, was
willing to undertake the journey, and started
September 30, 1753, with horses, tents, and other
necessary equipments. They found the rivers
swollen, so that the horses had to swim. The
swamps, in the snow and rain, were almost impas-
sable.. At last they arrived at the forts, early in
December. Washington delivered his letter to the
French, and an answer was written to the governor.
On December 25, Washington and his little
party started homeward. The horses were well-
nigh exhausted, and the men dismounted, put on
Indian hunting-dress, and toiled on through the
deepening snow. Washington, in haste to reach
the governor, strapped his pack on his shoulders,
and, gun in hand, with one companion, Mr. Gist,
struck through the woods, hoping thus to reach the
Alleghany River sooner, and cross on the ice. At
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 7
night they lit their camp-fire, but at two in the
morning they pursued their journey, guided by the
north star.
Some Indians now approached, and offered their
services as guides. One was chosen, but Washing-
ton soon suspected that they were being guided in
the wrong direction. They halted, and said they
would camp for the night, but the Indian demurred,
and offered to carry Washington's gun, as he was
fatigued. This was declined, when the Indian
grew sullen, hurried forward, and, when fifteen
paces ahead, levelled his gun and fired at Washing-
ton. Gist at once seized the savage, took his gun
from him, and would have killed him on the spot
had not the humane Washington prevented. He
was sent home to his cabin with a loaf of bread,
and told to come to them in the morning with
meat. Probably he expected to return before
morning, and, with some other braves, scalp the
two Americans; but Washington and Gist trav-
elled all night, and reached the Alleghany Kiver
opposite the site of Pittsburg.
Unfortunately, the river was not frozen as they
had hoped, but was full of broken ice. All day
long they worked to construct a raft, with but one
hatchet between them. After reaching the middle
of the river the men on the raft were hurled into
ten feet of water by the floating ice, and Washing-
ton was saved from drowning only by clinging to
a log. They lay till morning on an island in the
river, their clothes stiff with frost, and the hands
8 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
and feet of poor Gist frozen by the intense cold.
The agony of that night Washington never forgot,
even in the horrors of Valley Forge.
Happily, the river had grown passable in the
night, and they were able to cross to a place of
safety. He came home as speedily as possible and
delivered the letter to Governor Dimviddie. His
journal was sent to London and published, because
of the knowledge it gave of the position of the
French. The young soldier of twenty-one had
escaped death from the burning straw in survey-
ing, from the Indian's gun, and from drowning.
He had shown prudence, self-devotion, and hero-
ism. "From that moment," says Irving, in his
delightful life of Washington, " he was the rising
hope of Virginia." And he was the rising hope of
the new world as well.
The polite letter brought by Washington to the
governor had declared that no Englishmen should
remain in the Ohio valley ! Dinwiddie at once de-
termined to send three hundred troops against the
French, and offered the command to AVashington.
He shrunk from the charge, and it was given to
Colonel Fry, while he was made second in com-
mand. Fry soon died, and Washington was obliged
to assume control. He was equal to the occasion.
He said, " I have a constitution hardy enough to
encounter and undergo the most severe trials, and,
I flatter myself, resolution enough to face what any
man dares, as shall be proved when it comes to the
test."
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 9
The test soon came. In the conflict which fol-
lowed he was in the thickest of the fight, one man
being killed at his side. He wrote to his brother,
" I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there
is something charming in the sound." Years after-
ward, he said, when he had long known the sor-
rows of war, " If I said that, it was when I was
young."
At Great Meadows, below Pittsburg, he was de-
feated by superior numbers, and obliged to evacu-
ate the fort, but the Virginia House of Burgesses
thanked him for his bravery.
The next year, England sent out General Brad-
dock, who had been over forty years in the service,
a fearless but self-willed officer, to take command
of the American forces. Washington gladly joined
him as an aide-de-camp. They set out with two
thousand soldiers, toward Fort du Quesne (Pitts-
burg). The amount of baggage astonished Wash-
ington, who well knew the swamps and mountains
that must be crossed, but Braddock could not be
influenced. He remarked to Benjamin Franklin,
"These savages may indeed be a formidable enemy
to raw militia, but upon the king's regular and dis-
ciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should
make an impression." How great an " impression "
savages could make upon the "king's regular and
disciplined troops " was soon to be shown.
The march was exceedingly difficult. Sometimes
a whole day was spent in cutting a passage of two
miles over the mountains. Washington urged that
10 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
the Virginia Hangers be put to the front, as they
understood Indian warfare. The general haughtily
opposed it, and the regulars in brilliant uniforms,
bayonets fixed, colors flying, and drums l>eating,
swept over the open plain to battle, July 9. l~r>5.
Suddenly there was a cry, "The French and
Indians ! " The Indian yell struck terror to the
hearts of the regulars. They fired in all direc-
tions, killing their own men. A panic ensued.
Braddock tried to rally his men; even striking
them with the flat of his sword. Five horses
were killed under him. At last a bullet entered
his lungs, and he fell, mortally wounded. Then
the men fled precipitately, falling over their dead
comrades. Out of eighty-six officers, twenty-six
were killed and thirty-six wounded. Nearly half
of the whole army were dead or disablecL The
Virginia Rangers covered the retreat of the flying
regulars, and thus saved a remnant. Braddock,
bequeathing his horse and servant, Bishop, to
Washington, died broken-hearted, moaning, "Who
would have thought it ! ... We shall better know
how to deal with them another time." Washington
tenderly read the funeral service, and Braddock
was buried in the new and wild country he had
come to save.
Washington escaped as by a miracle. He wrote
his brother, " By the all-powerful dispensations of
Providence, I have been protected beyond all
human probability or expectation ; for I had four
bullets through my coat, and two horses shot
GEORGE WASHINGTON. H
under me, yet escaped unhurt, though death was
levelling my companions on every side of me."
Through life, this man, great in all that mankind
prize, loved and believed in the Christian religion.
Agnosticism had no charms for him.
Washington returned to Mount Vernon tem-
porarily broken in health, and his fond mother,
who was living at the old homestead, wrote beg-
ging that he would not again enter the service. In
reply he said, " Honored Madam," for thus he
always addressed her, "if it is in my power to
avoid going to the Ohio again, I shall ; but if the
command is pressed upon me by the general voice
of the country, and offered upon such terms as can-
not be objected against, it would reflect dishonor
on me to refuse it ; and that, I am sure, must and
ought to give you greater uneasiness than my go-
ing in an honorable command.''
Braddock's defeat electrified the colo'nies. Gov-
ernor Dinwiddie at once called for troops, and
Washington was made "commander-in-chief of all
the forces raised or to be raised in Virginia." For
two years he protected the people in the attacks of
the Indians ; his heart so full of pity that he wrote
the governor, " I solemnly declare, if I know my
own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice
to the butchering enemy, provided that would con-
tribute to the people's ease." No wonder that
such self-sacrifice and unselfishness won the hom-
age of the State, and later of the nation.
In May, 1758, the condition of the army was
12 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
such, the men so poorly clad and paid, that the
young commander decided to go to Williamsburg
to lay the matter before the council. In crossing
the Pamunkey, a branch of the York River, he met
a Mr. Chamberlayne, who pressed him to dine,
more especially as a charming lady was visiting at
his house. He accepted the invitation, and there
met Martha Custis, a widow of twenty-six, two
months younger than himself; a bright, frank,
agreeable woman, with dark eyes and hair, below
the middle size, a contrast indeed to his striking
physique, six feet two inches tall, blue eyes, and
grave demeanor.
Martha Daiidridge, with amiable disposition and
winning manners, had been married at seventeen to
Daniel Parke Custis, thirty-eight, a kind-hearted
and wealthy land-owner. For seven years they
lived at "The White House," on the Pamunkey
River, where he died, leaving two children, John
Parke and Martha Parke Custis. Mrs. Custis had
come to visit the Chamberlaynes, and now was to
meet the most popular officer in Virginia.
The dinner passed pleasantly, and then Bishop,
the servant, brought Colonel Washington's horse
and his own to the gate at the appointed hour.
But Colonel Washington did not appear. The
afternoon seemed like a dream, for love takes no
account of time. The sun was setting when he
rose to go, but Major Chamberlayne urged his
guest to pass the night. Probably he did not need
to be urged, for the most sublime and beautiful
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 13
force in all the world now controlled the fearless
Washington. The next morning he hastened to
Williamsburg, transacted his business, returned to
the home of Martha Custis, where he spent a day
and a night, and left her his betrothed.
The commander went back to camp with a new
joy in living. The army was now ordered against
Fort du Quesne, under Brigadier-General Forbes of
Great Britain ; Washington leading the Virginia
troops. He seized a moment before leaving to
write to Mrs. Custis, which letter Lossing gives in
his interesting lives of Mary and Martha Wash-
ington : —
" A courier is starting for Williamsburg, and I embrace
the opportunity to send a few words to one whose life is now
inseparable from mine. Since that happy hour when we
made our pledges to each other, my thoughts have been con-
tinually going to you as to another self. That an all-power-
ful Providence may keep us both in safety is the prayer of
your ever faithful and
"Ever affectionate friend,
" G. WASHINGTON."
The army marched again over the field where the
bones of Braddock's men were bleaching in the sun,
and approached the fort, only to find that the
French had deserted it after setting it on fire, and
retreated down the river. Washington, who led
the advance, planted the British flag over the smok-
ing ruin of what is now Pittsburg, so called from
the illustrious William Pitt. With the French
driven out of the Ohio valley, Washington, having
14 GEORGE \\rASUINGTo\
served five years in the army, resigned, and mar-
ried Martha Custis, January 6, 1759. Every inch
a soldier he must have looked in his suit of blue
cloth lined with red silk, and ornamented with sil-
ver trimmings ; while his bride wore white satin,
with pearl necklace and ear-rings, and pearls in her
hair. She rode home in a coach drawn by six
horses, while Colonel Washington, on a fine chest-
nut horse, attended by a brilliant cortege, rode be-
side her carriage.
The year previous, 1758, Washington had been
elected a member of the Virginia Assembly. When
he took his seat, the House gave him an address of
welcome. He rose to reply, trembled, and could
not say a word. " Sit down, Mr. Washington,"
said the speaker ; " your modesty equals your
valor, and that surpasses the power of any language
I possess." Beautiful attributes of character, not
always found in conjunction ; valor and modesty !
For three months Washington remained at the
home of his wife, to attend to the business of the
colony ; becoming also guardian of her two pretty
children, four and six years of age, whom he seemed
to love as his own. When he took his bride to
Mount Vernon to live, he wrote to a relative, " I
am now, I believe, fixed in this spot with an agree-
able partner for life ; and I hope to find more hap-
piness in retirement than I ever experienced in the
wide and bustling world."
For seventeen years he lived on his estate of
eight thousand acres, delighting in agriculture, and
GEOHGE WASHINGTON. 15
enjoying the development of the two children.
The years passed quickly, for affection, the holi-
est thing on earth, brought rest and contentment.
He or she is rich who possesses it. To have mill-
ions, and yet live in a home where there is no
affection, is to be poor indeed.
He was an early riser ; in winter often lighting
his own fire, and reading by candle-light ; retiring
always at nine o'clock. He was vestryman in the
Episcopal Church, and judge of the county court,
as well as a member of the House of Burgesses.
So honest was he that a barrel of flour marked
with his name was exempted from the usual in-
spection in West India ports.
Into this busy and happy life came sorrow, as it
comes into other lives. Martha Parke Custis, a
gentle and lovely girl, died of consumption at
seventeen, Washington kneeling by her bedside in
prayer as her life went out. The love of both par-
ents now centred in the boy of nineteen, John
Parke Custis, who, the following year, left Colum-
bia College to marry a girl of sixteen, Eleanor
Calvert. While Washington attended the wedding.
Mrs. Washington could not go, in her mourning
robes, but sent an affectionate letter to her new
daughter.
The quiet life at Mount Vernon was now to be
wholly changed. The Stamp Act and the oppres-
sive taxes had stirred America. When the taxes
were repealed, save that on tea, and Lord North
was urged to include tea also, he said : " To tempo-
16 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
rize is to yield ; and the authority of the mother
country, if it is not now supported, will be relin-
quished forever ; a total repeal cannot be thought of
till America is prostrate at our feet." Mrs. Wash-
ington, like other lovers of liberty, at once ceased
to use tea at her table.
When the First Continental Congress met at
Philadelphia, September 5, 1774, Washington was
among the delegates chosen by Virginia. He rode
thither on horseback, with his brilliant friends
Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton. When
they departed from Mount Vernon, the patriotic
Martha Washington said: "I hope you will all
stand firm. I know George will. . . . God be with
you, gentlemen."
To a relative, who wrote deprecating Colonel
Washington's "folly," his wife answered: "Yrs;
I foresee consequences — dark days, and darker
nights; domestic happiness suspended; social en-
joyments abandoned ; property of every kind put
in jeopardy by war, perhaps ; neighbors and
friends at variance, and eternal separations on
earth possible. But what are all these evils when
compared with the fate of which the Port Bill
may be only a threat ? My mind is made up,
my heart is in the cause. George is right; he
is always right. God has promised to protect the
righteous, and I will trust him." Blessings on the
woman who, in the darkest hour, knows how to be
as the sunlight in her hope and trust, and to be
well-nigh a divine embodiment of courage and for-
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 17
titude ! Trulys aid Schiller : " Honor to women !
they twine and weave the roses of heaven into the
life of man."
Congress remained in session fifty-one days.
When the results of its labors were put before the
House of Lords, the great Chatham said : " When
your lordships look at the papers transmitted 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
assembled in General Congress at Philadelphia."
When Patrick Henry was asked, on his return
home, who was the greatest man in Congess, he
•replied : " If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Kutledge
of South Carolina is by far the greatest orator ; but
if you speak of solid information and sound judg-
ment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the
greatest man on that floor." Wise reading in all
these years had given Washington "solid infor-
mation," and "sound judgment" was partly an
inheritance from noble Mary Washington.
People all through New England were arming
themselves. General Gage, who had been sent to
Boston with British troops, said : " It is surprising
that so many of the other provinces interest them-
selves so much in this. They have some warm
friends in New York, and I learn that the people
18 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
of Charleston, South Carolina, are as inad as they
are here." He was soon to possess a more thorough
knowledge of the American character.
The Boston troops, under Gage, numbered about
four thousand. He determined to destroy the mil-
itary stores at Concord, on the night of April 18,
1775. It was to be done secretly, but as soon as
the British regiment started, under Colonel Smith
and Major Pitcairn, for Concord, the bells of Bos-
ton rang out, cannon were tired, and Paul Revere,
with Prescott and Davis, rode at full speed in the
bright moonlight to Lexington, to alarm the neigh-
boring country. When cautioned against making
so much noise, Revere replied : " You'll have noise
enough here before long — the regulars are coming
out."
Long before morning, nearly two-score of the vil-
lagers, under Captain Parker, gathered on the green,
near the church, waiting for the red-coats, who
came at double-quick, Major Pitcairn exclaiming,
" Disperse, ye villains ! Lay down your arms, ye
rebels, and disperse ! " Unmoved, Captain Parker
said to his men, " Don't fire unless you are fired on ;
but if they want a war, let it begin here." The
Revolutionary War began there, to end only when
America should be free. Seven Americans were
killed, nine wounded, and the rest were put to
flight ; but the blood shed on Lexington Green
made liberty dear to every heart.
The British now marched to Concord, where, in
the early morning, they found four hundred and
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 19
fifty men gathered to receive them. Captain Isaac
Davis, who said, when his company led the force,
" I haven't a man that is afraid to go," was killed at
the first shot, at the North Bridge.
The British troops destroyed all the stores they
could find, though most had been removed, and
then started toward Boston. All along the road
the indignant Americans fired upon them from
behind stone fences and clumps of bushes. Tired
by their night march, having lost three hundred in
killed and wounded, over three times as many as
the Americans, they were glad to meet Lord Percy
coming to their rescue with one thousand men. He
formed a hollow square, and, faint and exhausted,
the soldiers threw themselves on the ground within
it, and rested.
The whole country seemed to rise to arms. Men
came pouring into Boston with such weapons as
they could find. Noble Israel Putnam of Connecti-
cut left his plough in the field and hastened to the
war.
May 10, Congress again met at Philadelphia.
They sent a second petition to King George, which
John Adams called an " imbecile measure." They
made plans for the support of the army already
gathered at Cambridge from the different States.
Who should be the commander of this growing
army ? Then John Adams spoke of the gentleman
from Virginia, " whose skill and experience as an
officer, whose independent fortune, great talents,
and excellent universal character, would command
20 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
the approbation of all America, and unite the cor-
dial exertions of all the colonies better tlum any
other person in the Union." June 5, Washington
was unanimously elected conimander-in-chief.
Kising in his seat, and thanking Congress, he
modestly said : " I, beg it may be remembered by
every gentleman in the room that I this day de-
clare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think
myself equal to the command I am honored with.
As to pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress that,
as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted
me to accept this arduous employment, at the ex-
pense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not
wish to make any profit of it. I will keep an
exact account of my expenses. Those, I doubt not,
they will discharge, and that is all I desire." He
wrote to his wife : " I should enjoy more real hap-
piness in one month with you at home than I have
the most distant prospect of finding abroad if my
stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it
has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me
upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking
it is designed to answer some good purpose. . . .
I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the
campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the
uneasiness I know you will feel from being left
alone." No wonder Martha Washington loved
him ; so brave that he could meet any danger with-
out fear, yet so tender that the thought of leaving
her brought intense pain.
He was now forty-three; the ideal of manly
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 21
dignity. He at once started for Boston. Soon a
courier met him, telling him of the battle of Bun-
ker Hill — how for two hours raw militia had with-
stood British regulars, killing and wounding twice
as many as they lost, and retreating only when
their ammunition was exhausted. When Washing-
ton heard how bravely they had fought, he ex-
claimed : " The liberties of the country are safe."
Under the great elm (still standing) at Cambridge,
Washington took command of the army, July 3,
1775, amid the shouts of the multitude and the roar
of artillery. His headquarters were established at
Craigie House, afterward the home of the poet
Longfellow. Here Mrs. Washington came later,
and helped to lessen his cares by her cheerful
presence.
The soldiers were brave but undisciplined ; the
terms of enlistment were short, thus preventing
the best work. To provide powder was well-nigh
an impossibility. For months Washington drilled
his army, and waited for the right moment to
rescue Boston from the hands of the British. Gen-
erals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne had been sent
over from England. Howe had strengthened Bun-
ker Hill, and, with little respect for the feelings of
the Americans, had removed the pulpit and pews
from the Old South Church, covered the floor with
earth, and converted it into a riding-school for
Burgoyne's light dragoons. They did not con-
sider the place sacred, because it was a " meeting-
house where sedition had often been preached."
22 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
The " right moment " came at last. In a single
night the soldiers fortified Dorchester Heights, can-
nonading the enemy's batteries in the opposite
direction, so that their attention was diverted from
the real work. When the morning dawned of
March 5, 1776, General Howe saw, through the
lifting fog, the new fortress, with the guns turned
upon Boston. " I know not what to do," he said.
"The rebels have done more work in one night
than my whole army would have done in one
month."
He resolved to attack the " rebels " by night,
and for this attack twenty-five hundred men were
embarked in boats. But a violent storm set in,
and they could not land. The next day the rain
poured in torrents, and when the second night
came Dorchester Heights were too strong to be
attacked. The proud General Howe was compelled
to evacuate Boston with all possible dispatch, March
17, the navy going to Halifax and the army to
New York. The Americans at once occupied the
city, and planted the flag above the forts. Con-
gress moved a vote of thanks to \Va.shington, and
ordered a gold medal, bearing his face, as the de-
liverer of Boston from British rule.
The English considered this a humiliating defeat.
The Duke of Manchester, in the House of Lords,
said: "British generals, whose name 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,
GEORGE WASHINGTON. £3
which has cost this nation more than a million to
defend."
The Continental Army soon repaired to New York.
Washington spared no pains to keep a high moral
standard among his men. He said, in one of his
orders : " The general is sorry to be informed that
the foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing
and swearing — a vice heretofore little known in an
American army — is growing into fashion. He
hopes the officers will, by example as well as influ-
ence, endeavor to check it, and that both they and
the men will reflect that we can have little hope of
the blessing of Heaven on our arms if we insult it
by our impiety and folly. Added to this, it is a
vice so mean and low, without any temptation, that
every man of sense and character detests and
despises it." Noble words !
Great Britain now realized that the fight must
be in earnest, and hired twenty thousand Hes-
sians to help subjugate the colonies. When Ad-
miral Howe came over from England, he tried
to talk about peace with " Mr." Washington, or
"George -Washington, Esq.," as it was deemed be-
neath his dignity to acknowledge that the " rebels "
had a general. The Americans could not talk about
peace, with such treatment.
Soon the first desperate battle was fought, on
Long Island, August 27, 1776, partly on the ground
now occupied by Greenwood Cemetery, between
eight thousand Americans and more than twice
their number of trained Hessians. Washington,
24 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
from an eminence, watched the terrible conflict,
wringing his hands, and exclaiming, '; What brave
fellows I must this day lose ! "
The Americans were defeated, with great loss.
Washington could no longer hold Xew York with
his inadequate forces. With great energy and
promptness he gathered all the boats possible, and
then, so secretly that even his aides did not know
his intention, nine thousand men, horses, and pro-
visions, were ferried over the East River. A heavy
fog hung over the Brooklyn side, as though pro-
vided by Providence, while it was clear on the Nt-\v
York side, so that the men could form in line.
Washington crossed in the last boat, having been
for forty-eight hours without sleep.
In the morning, the astonished Englishmen
learned that the prize had escaped. A Tory wo-
man, the night before, seeing that the Americans
were crossing the river, sent her colored servant to
notify the British. A Hessian sentinel, not under-
standing the servant, locked him up till morning,
when, upon the arrival of an officer, his errand was
known ; but the knowledge came too late !
On October 28, the Americans were again de-
feated, at White Plains, Howe beginning the en-
gagement. The condition of the Continental Army
was disheartening. They were half-fed and half-
clothed; the "ragged rebels," the British called
them. There was sickness in the camp, and many
were deserting. AVashington said, "Men just
dragged from the tender scenes of domestic life,
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 25
unaccustomed to the din of arms, totally unac-
quainted with every kind of military skill, are
timid, and ready to fly from their own shadows.
Besides, the sudden change in their manner of liv-
ing brings on an unconquerable desire to return to
their homes." So great-hearted was the com-
mander-in-chief, though on the field of battle he
had no leniency toward cowards.
Washington retreated across New Jersey to
Trenton. When he reached the Delaware Elver,
filled with floating ice, he collected all the boats
within seventy miles, and transported the troops,
crossing last himself. Lord Cornwallis, of Howe's
army, came in full pursuit, reached the river just
as the last boat crossed, and looked in vain for
means of transportation. There was nothing to be
done but to wait till the river was frozen, so that
the troops could cross on the ice.
Washington, December 20, 1776, told John Han-
cock, President of Congress, " Ten days more will
put an end to the existence of our army." Yet, on
the night of December 25, Christmas, with almost
superhuman courage, he determined to recross the
Delaware, and attack the Hessians at Trenton.
The weather was intensely cold. The boats, in
crossing, were forced out of their course by the
drifting ice. Two men were frozen to death. At
four in the morning, the heroic troops took up
the line of march, the snow and sleet beating
in their faces. Many of the muskets were wet
and useless. "What is to be done?" asked
26 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
the men. "Push on, and use the bayonet," was
the answer.
At eight in the morning, the Americans rushed
into the town. " The enemy ! the enemy ! " cried
the Hessians. Their leader, Colonel Rahl, fell,
mortally wounded. A thousand men laid down
their arms and begged for quarter. Washington
recrossed the Delaware with his whole body of
captives, and the American nation took heart once
more. That 'fearful crossing of the Delaware, in
the blinding storm, and the sudden yet marvellous
victory which followed, will always live among the
most pathetic and stirring scenes of the Revolu-
tion. A few days later, January 3, 1777, with five
thousand men, Washington defeated Cornwallis at
Princeton, exposing himself so constantly to dan-
ger that his officers begged him to seek a place of
safety.
The third year of the Revolutionary War had
opened. France, hating England, sympathizing
with America in her struggle for liberty, and
being encouraged in this sympathy by the hon-
ored Benjamin Franklin, loaned us money, sup-
plied muskets and powder, and many troops under
such brave leaders as Lafayette and De Kalb.
The year 1777, although our forces were defeated
at Brandywine and Germantown, witnessed the
defeat of a part of Burgoyne's army at Benning-
ton, Vermont, and, on the 17th of October, the
remaining part at Saratoga; over five thousand
men, seven thousand muskets, and a great quan-
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 27
tity 01 military stores. Two months later, France
made a treaty of alliance with the United States,
to the joy of the whole country.
On December 11, Washington went into winter-
quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the
Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia.
Trees were felled to build huts, the men toiling
with scanty food, often barefoot, the snow showing
the marks of their bleeding feet. Continental
money had so depreciated that forty dollars were
scarcely equal in value to one silver dollar. Sick-
ness was decreasing the forces. Washington
wrote to Congress : " No less than two thousand
eight hundred and ninety-eight men are now in
camp unfit for duty, because they are barefoot and
otherwise naked." From lack of blankets, he said,
" numbers have been obliged, and still are, to sit
up all night by fires, instead of taking comfortable
rest in a natural and common way." A man less
great would have been discouraged, but he trusted
in a power higher than himself, and waited in sub-
lime dignity and patience for the progress of
events. Martha Washington had come to Valley
Forge to share in its privations, and to minister to
the sick and the dying.
The years 1778 and 1779 dragged on with their
victories and defeats. The next year, 1780, the
country was shocked by the treason of Benedict
Arnold, who, having obtained command at West
Point, had agreed to surrender it to the British for
fifty thousand dollars in money and the position
28 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
of brigadier-general in their army. On September
21, Sir Henry Clinton sent Major John Andre, an
adjutant-general, to meet Arnold. He went ashore
from the ship Vulture, met Arnold in a wood,
and completed the plan. When he went back to
the boat, he found that a battery had driven her
down the river, and he must return by land. At
Tarrytown, on the Hudson, he was met by three
militiamen, John Paulding, David Williams, and
Isaac Van Wart, who at once arrested him, and
found the treasonable papers in his boots. He
offered to buy his release, but Paulding assured
him that fifty thousand dollars would be no temp-
tation.
Andre was at once taken to prison. WThile
there he won all hearts by his intelligence and his
cheerful, manly nature. He had entered the Brit-
ish army by reason of a disappointment in love.
The father of the young lady had interfered, and
she had become the second wife of the father of
Maria Edgeworth. Andre always wore above his
heart a miniature of Honora Sneyd, painted by
herself. Just before his execution as a spy, he
wrote to Washington, asking to be shot. When
he was led to the gallows, October 2, 1780, and
saw that he was to be hanged, for a moment he
seemed startled, and exclaimed, " How hard is my
fate ! " but added, " It will soon be over." He put
the noose about his own neck, tied the handker-
chief over his eyes, and, when asked if he wished
to speak, said only : " I pray you to bear witness
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 29
that I meet my fate like a brave man." His death
was universally lamented. In 1821, his body was
removed to London by the British consul, and bur-
ied in Westminster Abbey.
Every effort was made to capture Arnold, but
without success. He once asked an American,
who had been taken prisoner by the British, what
his countrymen would have done with him had he
been captured. The immediate reply was : " They
would cut off the leg wounded in the service of
your country, and bury it with the honors of war.
The rest of you they would hang."
In 1781, the condition of affairs was still gloomy.
Some troops mutinied for lack of pay, but when
approached by Sir Henry Clinton, through two
agents, offering them food and money if they
would desert the American cause, the agents were
promptly hanged as spies. Such was the patriot-
ism of the half-starved and half-clothed soldiers.
In May of this year, Cornwallis took command
of the English forces in Virginia, destroying about
fifteen million dollars worth of property. Early
in October, Washington with his troops, and La-
fayette and De Eochambeau with their French
troops, gathered at Yorktown, on the south bank
of the York River. For ten days the siege was
carried on. The French troops rendered heroic
service. Washington was so in earnest that one
of his aids, seeing that he was in danger, ventured
to suggest that their situation was much exposed.
" If you think so, you are at liberty to step back,"
30 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
was the grave response of the general. Shortly
afterwards a musket-ball fell at Washington's feet.
One of his generals grasped his arm, exclaiming,
"We can't spare you yet." When the victory was
finally won. Washington drew a long breath and
said, "The work is done and well done." Corn-
wallis surrendered his whole army, over seven
thousand soldiers, October 19, 1781.
The American nation was thrilled with joy and
gratitude. Washington ordered divine service to
be performed in the several divisions, saying, " The
commander-in-chief earnestly recommends that the
troops not on duty should universally attend,
with that seriousness of deportment and gratitude
of heart which the recognition of such reiterated
and astonishing interpositions of Providence de-
mands of us." Congress appointed a day of
thanksgiving and prayer, and voted two stands of
colors to Washington and two pieces of field-
ordnance to the brave French commanders. When
Lord North, Prime Minister of England, heard of
the defeat of the British, he exclaimed, " Oh, God !
it is all over ! "
The nearly seven long years of war were ended,
and America had become a free nation.
The articles of peace between Great Britain and
the United States were not signed till September
3, 1783. On November 4 the army was disbanded,
with a touching address from their idolized com-
mander. On December 4, in the city of New York,
in a building on the corner of Pearl and Broad
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 31
Streets, Washington said good-bye to his officers,
losing for a time his wonderful self-command. " I
cannot come to each of you to take my leave," he
said, "but shall be obliged if each of you will come
and take me by the hand." Tears filled the eyes
of all, as, silently, one by one, they clasped his
hand in farewell, and passed out of his sight.
Then Washington repaired to Annapolis, where
Congress was assembled, and at twelve o'clock on
the 23d of December, before a crowded house,
offered his resignation. " Having now finished the
work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre 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 trage-
dies ever drew so many tears from so many beautiful
eyes," said one who was present.
The beloved general returned to Mount Vernon,
to enjoy the peace and rest which he needed, and
the honor of his country which he so well deserved.
John Parke Custis, Mrs. Washington's only re-
maining child, had died, leaving four children, two
of whom — Eleanor, two years old, and George
Washington, six months old — the general adopted
as his own. These brought additional " sweetness
and light " into the beautiful home.
The following year the Marquis de Lafayette was
a guest at Mount Vernon, and went to Fredericks-
burg to bid adieu to Washington's mother. When
he spoke in high praise of the man whom he
32 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
so loved and honored, Mary Washington replied
quietly, "I am not surprised at what George has
done, for he was always a good boy." Blessed
mother-heart, that, in training her child, could look
into the future, and know, for a certainty, the
result of her love and progress ! She died August
25, 1789.
Three years later — May 25, 1787 — a convention
met at Philadelphia to forni a more perfect union
of the States, and frame a Constitution. Wash-
ington was made President of this convention. He
had long been reading carefully the history and
principles of ancient and modern confederacies,
and he was intelligently prepared for the honor
accorded him. When the Constitution was fin-
ished, and ready for his signature, he said : " Should
the United States reject this excellent Constitution,
the probability is that an opportunity will never
again be offered to cancel another in peace; the
next will be drawn in blood."
When the various States, after long debate, had
accepted the Constitution, a President must be
chosen, and that man very naturally was the man
who had saved the country in the perils of war.
On the way to New York, then the seat of govern-
ment, Washington received a perfect ovation. The
bells were rung, cannon fired, and men, women,
and children thronged the way. Over the bridge
crossing the Delaware the women of Trenton had
erected an arch of evergreen and laurel, with the
words, "The defender of the mothers will be the
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33
protector of the daughters." As he passed, young
girls scattered flowers before him, singing grateful
songs. How different from that crossing years
before, with his worn and foot-sore army, amid the
floating ice !
The streets of New York were thronged with
eager, thankful people, who wept as they cheered
the hero, now fifty-seven, who had given nearly his
whole life to his country's service. On April 30,
1789, the inauguration took place. At nine o'clock
in the morning, religious services were held in all
the churches. At twelve, in the old City Hall, in
Wall Street, Chancellor Livingston administered
the oath of office, Washington stooping down and
kissing the open Bible, on which he laid his hand;
" the man," says T. W. Higginson, " whose general-
ship, whose patience, whose self-denial, had achieved
and then preserved the liberties of the nation ; the
man who, greater than Caesar, had held a kingly
crown within reach, and had refused it." Wash-
ington had previously been addressed by some who
believed that the Colonies needed a monarchy for
strong government. Astonished and indignant,
he replied : " I am much at a loss to conceive what
part of my conduct could have given encourage-
ment to an address which to me seems big with the
greatest mischiefs that can befall my country."
After taking the oath, all proceeded on foot to St.
Paul's Church, where prayers were read.
The next four years were years of perplexity and
care in the building of the nation. The great war
34 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
debt, of nearly one hundred millions, must be pro-
vided for by an impoverished nation; commerce
and manufactures must be developed; literature
and ediication encouraged, and Indian outbreaks
quelled. With a love of country that was above
party-spirit, with a magnanimity that knew no
self-aggrandizement, he led the States out of their
difficulties. When his term of office expired, he
would have retired gladly to Mount Vernon for
life, but he could not be spared. Thomas Jefferson
wrote him : " The confidence of the whole Union
is centred in you. . . . North and South will hang
together, if they have you to hang on."
Again he accepted the office of President. Af-
fairs called more than ever for wisdom. He
continually counselled " mutual forbearances and
temporizing yieldings on all sides." France, who
had helped us so nobly, was passing through the
horrors of the Revolution. The blood of kings and
people was flowing. The French Republic having
sent M. Genet as her minister to the United States,
he attempted to fit out privateers against Great
Britain. Washington knew that America could not
be again plunged into a war with England without
probable self-destruction ; therefore he held to neu-
trality, and demanded the recall of Genet. The
people earnestly sympathized with France, and, but
for the strong man at the head of the nation, would
have been led into untold calamities. The country
finally came to the verge of war with France, but
when Napoleon overthrew the Directory, and made
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 35
himself First Consul, he Avisely made peace with
the United States.
Washington declined a third term of office, and
sent his beautiful farewell address to Congress, con-
taining the never-to-be-forgotten words : " Of all the
dispositions and habits which lead to political pros-
perity, religion and morality are indispensable sup-
ports. . . . Observe good faith and justice towards
all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with
all."
He now returned to Mount Vernon to enjoy the
rest he had so long desired. Three years later the
great man lay dying, after a day's illness, from
affection of the throat. From difficulty of breathing,
his position was often changed. With his usual
consideration for others, he said to his secretary,
" I am afraid I fatigue you too much." " I feel I
am going," he said to his physicians. "I thank
you for your attentions, but I pray you to take
no more trouble about me." The man who could
face death on the battle-field had no fears in the
quiet home by the Potomac. In the midst of
his agony, he could remember to thank those who
aided him, and regret that he was a source of
care or anxiety. Great indeed is that soul which
has learned that nothing in God's universe is a
little thing.
At ten in the evening he gave a few directions
about burial. " Do you understand me ? " he
asked. Upon being answered in the affirmative,
he replied, " 'Tis well ! " when he expired without
36 GEORGE WASHINGTON.
a struggle, December 14, 1799. Mrs. Washington,
who was seated at the foot of the bed, said : " 'Tis
well. All is now over. I shall soon follow him.
I have no more trials to pass through."
On December 18, 1799, the funeral procession
took its way to the vault on the Mount Vernon
estate. The general's horse, with his saddle and
pistols, led by his groom in black, preceded the
body of his dead master. A deep sorrow settled
upon the nation. The British ships lowered their
flags to half-mast. The French draped their stand-
ards with crape.
Martha Washington died three years later, May
22, 1802, and was buried beside her husband. In
1837, the caskets were enclosed in white marble
coffins, now seen by visitors to Mount Vernon. In
1885 a grand marble monument, five hundred and
fifty-five feet high, was completed on the banks of
the Potomac, at the capital, to the immortal Wash-
ington.
Truly wrote Jefferson : " His integrity was most
pure; his justice the most inflexible I have ever
known; no motives of interest or consanguinity,
of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his de-
cision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word,
a wise, a good, and a great man."
The life of George Washington will ever be an
example to young men. He had the earnest heart
and manner — never trivial — which women love,
and men respect. He had the courage which the
world honors, and the gentleness which made little
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 37
children cling to him. He controlled an army and
a nation, because he understood the secret of
power — self-control. Well does Mr. Gladstone
call him the " purest, figure in history ; " unselfish,
fair, patient, heroic, true.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
" r~TlO say that his life is the most interesting, the
-A- most uniformly successful, yet lived by any
American, is bold. But it is, nevertheless, strictly
true." Thus writes John Bach McMaster, in his
life of the great statesman.
In the year 1706, January 6 (old style), in the
small house of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler,
on Milk Street, opposite the Old South Church,
Boston, was born Benjamin Franklin. Already
fourteen children had come into the home of
Josiah Franklin, the father, by his two wives, and
now this youngest son was added to the struggling
family circle. Two daughters were born later.
The home was a busy one, and a merry one
withal ; for the father, after the day's work, would
sing to his large flock the songs he had learned in
his boyhood in England, accompanying the words
on his violin.
From the mother, the daughter of Peter Folger
of Nantucket, " a learned and godly Englishman,"
Benjamin inherited an attractive face, and much of
his hunger for books, which never lessened through
his long and eventful life. At eight years of age,
38
BENJAMIN FRANKIIN. 39
he was placed in the Boston Latin School, and in
less than a year rose to the head of his class. The
father had hoped to educate the boy for the minis-
try, but probably money was lacking, for at ten his
school-life was ended, and he was in his father's
shop filling candle-moulds and running on errands.
For two years he worked there, but how he hated
it ! not all labor, for he was always industrious, but
soap and candle-making were utterly distasteful to
him. So strongly was he inclined to run away to
sea, as an older brother had done, that his father
obtained a situation for him with a maker of
knives, and later he was apprenticed to his brother
James as a printer.
Now every spare moment was used in reading.
The first book which he owned was Bunyan's
" Pilgrim's Progress," and after reading this over
and over, he sold it, and bought Burton's " Histori-
cal Collections," forty tiny books of travel, history,
biography, and adventure. In his father's small
library, there was nothing very soul-stirring to be
found. Defoe's "Essays upon Projects," contain-
ing hints on banking, friendly societies for the re-
lief of members, colleges for girls, and asylums for
idiots, would not be very interesting to most boys
of twelve, but Benjamin read every essay, and,
strange to say, carried out nearly every " project "
in later life. Cotton Mather's "Essays to do
Good," with several leaves torn out, was so eagerly
read, and so productive of good, that Franklin
Avrote, when he was eighty, that this volume " gave
40 BENJAMIN FUANKLIN.
me such a turn of thinking as to have an influence
on my conduct through life ; for I have always set
a greater value on the character of a doer of good
than on any other kind of reputation; and, if I
have been a useful citizen, the public owe the ad-
vantage of it to that book."
As the boy rarely had any money to buy books,
he would often borrow from the booksellers' clerks,
and read in his little bedroom nearly all night, be-
ing obliged to return the books before the shop
was opened in the morning. Finally, a Boston
merchant, who came to the printing-office, noticed
the lad's thirst for knowledge, took him home to
see his library, and loaned him some volumes.
Blessings on those people who are willing to lend
knowledge to help the world upward, despite the
fact that book-borrowers proverbially have short
memories, and do not always take the most tender
care of what they borrow.
When Benjamin was fifteen, he wrote a few bal-
lads, and his brother James sent him about the
streets to sell them. This the father wisely checked
by telling his son that poets usually are beggars, a
statement not literally true, but sufficiently near
the truth to produce a wholesome effect upon the
young verse-maker.
The boy now devised a novel way to earn money
to buy books. He had read somewhere that vege-
table food was sufficient for health, and persuaded
James, who paid the board of his apprentice, that
for half the amount paid he could board himself.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 41
Benjamin therefore attempted living on pota-
toes, hasty pudding, and rice ; doing his own cook-
ing, — not the life most boys of sixteen would
choose. His dinner at the printing-office usually
consisted of a biscuit, a handful of raisins, and a
glass of water ; a meal quickly eaten, and then, 0
precious thought ! there was nearly a whole hour
for books.
He now read Locke on " Human Understanding,"
and Xenophon's " Memorable Things of Socrates."
In this, as he said in later years, he learned one of
the great secrets of success ; " never using, when I
advanced anything that may possibly be disputed,
the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that
give the air of positiveness to an opinion ; but
rather say, I conceive or apprehend a thing to be
so and so ; it appears to me, or / should think it so
or so, for such and such reasons ; or, it is so, if I
am not mistaken. ... I wish well-meaning, sensi-
ble men would not lessen their power of doing good
by a positive, assuming manner, that seldom fails
to disgust, tends to create opposition, and to defeat
every one of those purposes for which speech was
given to us, to wit, giving or receiving information
or pleasure. ... To this habit I think it princi-
pally owing that I had early so much weight with
my fellow-citizens, when I proposed new institu-
tions or alterations in the old, and so much influ-
ence in public councils when I became a member ;
for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject
to much hesitation in my choice of words, and yet
42 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
I generally carried my points." A most valuable
lesson to be learned early in life.
Coming across an odd volume of the " Spectator,"
Benjamin was captivated by the style, and resolved
to become master of the production, by rewriting
the essays from memory, and increasing his fulness
of expression by turning them into verse, and then
back again into prose.
James Franklin was now printing the fifth news-
paper in America. It was intended to issue the
first — Publick Occurrences — monthly, or oftener,
" if any glut of occurrences happens." When the
first number appeared, September 25, 1690, a very
important "occurrence happened," which was the
immediate suspension of the paper for expressions
concerning those in official position. The next
newspaper, — the Boston News-Letter, — a weekly,
was published April 24, 1704 ; the third was the
Boston Gazette, which James was engaged to print,
but, being disappointed, started one of his own,
August 17, 1721, called the New England Con rant.
The American Weekly Mercury was printed in
Philadelphia six months before the Courant.
Benjamin's work was hard and constant. He
not only set type, but distributed the paper to cus-
tomers. "Why," thought he, "can I not write
something for the new sheet ? " Accordingly, he
prepared a manuscript, slipped it under the door of
the office, and the next week saw it in print before
his eyes. This was joy indeed, and he wrote again
and again.
BENJAMIN Fit AN KLIN. 43
The Courant at last gave offence by its plain
speaking, and it ostensibly passed into Benjamin's
hands, to save his brother from punishment. The
position, however, soon became irksome, for the pas-
sionate brother often beat Benjamin, till at last he
determined to run away. As soon as this became
known, James went to every office, told his side of
the story, and thus prevented Benjamin from ob-
taining work. Not discouraged, the boy sold a
portion of his precious books, said good-bye to his
beloved Boston, and went out into the world to
more poverty and struggle.
Three days after this, he stood in New York,
asking for work at the only printing-office in the
city, owned by William Bradford. Alas ! there
was no work to be had, and he was advised to go
to Philadelphia, nearly one hundred miles away,
where Andrew Bradford, a son of the former, had
established a paper. The boy could not have been
very light-hearted as he started on the journey.
After thirty hours by boat, he reached Amboy,
and then travelled fifty miles on foot across New
Jersey. It rained hard all day, but he plodded on,
tired and hungry, buying some gingerbread of a
poor woman, and wishing that he had never left
Boston. His money was fast disappearing.
Finally he reached Philadelphia.
" I was," he says in his autobiography. " in my
working dress, my best clothes being to come round
by sea. I was dirty from my journey ; my pockets
were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I
44 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was
fatigued wfth travelling, rowing, and want of rest.
I was very hungry, and my whole stock of cash
consisted of a Dutch dollar and about a shilling in
copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat
for my passage, who at first refused it, on account
of my rowing, but I insisted on their taking it ;
a man being sometimes more generous when he
has but a little money than when he has plenty,
perhaps through fear of being thought to have but
little.
" Then I walked up the street, gazing about, till
near the Market-house I met a boy with bread. I
had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring
where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's
he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for
biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston ; but
they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia.
Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told
they had none such. So, not considering or know-
ing the difference of money, and the greater cheap-
ness, nor the names of bread, I bade him give me
threepenny-worth of any sort. He gave me, ac-
cordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surprised
at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room
in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each
arm, and eating the other.
" Thus I went up Market Street as far as Fourth
Street, passing by the door of Mr. Kead, my future
wife's father ; when she, standing at the door, saw
me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 45
awkward, ridiculous figure. Then I turned and
went down Chestnut Street and part of Walnut
Street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming
round, found myself again at Market Street wharf,
near the boat I came in, to which I went for a
draught of the river water ; and, being filled with
one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman
and her child that came down the river in the boat
with us, and were waiting to go farther."
After this, he joined some Quakers who were
on their way to the meeting-house, which he too
entered, and, tired and homeless, soon fell asleep.
And this was the penniless, runaway lad who was
eventually to stand before five kings, to become
one of the greatest philosophers, scientists, and
statesmen of his time, the admiration of Europe
and the idol of America. Surely, truth is stranger
than fiction.
The youth hastened to the office of Andrew Brad-
ford, but there was no opening for him. However,
Bradford kindly offered him a home till he could
find work. This was obtained with Keimer, a
printer, who happened to find lodging for the
young man in the house of Mr. Bead. As the
months went by, and the hopeful and earnest lad
of eighteen had visions of becoming a master print-
er, he confided to Mrs. Bead that he was in love
with, and wished to marry, the pretty daughter,
who had first seen him as he walked up Market
Street, eating his roll. Mr. Bead had died, and the
prudent mother advised that these children, both
46 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
under nineteen, should wait till the printer proved
his ability to support a wife.
And now a strange thing happened. Sir William
Keith, governor of the province, who knew young
Franklin's brother-in-law, offered to establish him
in the printing business in Philadelphia, and, bet-
ter still, to send him to England with a letter of
credit with which to buy the necessary outfit.
A mine of gold seemed to open before him. He
made ready for the journey, and set sail, disap-
pointed, however, that the letter of credit did not
come before he left. When he reached England,
he ascertained that Sir William Keith was without
credit, a vain man and devoid of principle. Frank-
lin found himself alone in a strange country, doubly
unhappy because he had used for himself and some
impecunious friends one hundred and seventy -five
dollars, collected from a business man. This he
paid years afterward, ever considering the use of
it one of the serious mistakes of his life.
He and a boy companion found lodgings at
eighty-seven cents per week ; very inferior lodg-
ings they must have been. There was of course
no money to buy type, no money to take passage
back to America. He wrote a letter to Miss Head,
telling her that he was not likely to return, dropped
the correspondence, and found work in a printing-
office.
After a year or two, a merchant offered him a
position as clerk in America, at five dollars a week.
He accepted, and, after a three-months voyage,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 47
reached Philadelphia, "the cords of love," he said,
drawing him. back. Alas ! Deborah Read, per-
suaded by her mother and other relatives; had
married, but was far from happy. The merchant
for whom Franklin had engaged to work soon died,
and the printer was again looking for a situation,
which he found with Keimer. He was now twenty-
one, and life had been anything but cheerful or en-
couraging.
Still, he determined to keep his mind cheerful
and active, and so organized a club of eleven young
men, the "Junto," composed mostly of mechanics.
They came together once a month to discuss ques-
tions of morals, politics, and science. As most of
these were unable to buy books — a book in those
days often costing several dollars — Franklin con-
ceived the idea of a subscription library, raised the
funds, and became the librarian. Every day he set
apart an hour or two for study, and for twenty
years, in the midst of poverty and hard work, the
habit was maintained. If Franklin himself did not
know that such a young man would succeed, the
world around him must have guessed it. Out of
this collection of books — the mother of all the
subscription libraries of this country — has grown
a great library in the city of Philadelphia.
Keirner proved a business failure ; but kindness
to a felloAv-workman, Meredith, a youth of intem-
perate habits, led Franklin to another open door.
The father of Meredith, hoping to save his son,
started the young men in business by loaning them
48 BENJAMIN FRANEL1.\.
five hundred dollars. It was a modest beginning,
in a building whose rent was but one hundred and
twenty dollars a year. Their first job of printing
brought them one dollar and twenty-five cents. As
Meredith was seldom in a condition for labor,
Franklin did most of the work, he having started
a paper — the Pennsylvania Gazette. Somepropb-
esied failure for the new firm, but one prominent
man remarked : " The industry of that Franklin is
superior to anything I ever saw of the kind. I see
him still at work when I go home from the club,
and he is at work again before his neighbors are
out of bed."
But starting in business had cost five hundred
more than the five hundred loaned them. The
young men were sued for debt, and ruin stared
them in the face. Was Franklin discouraged ?
If so at heart, he wisely kept a cheerful face and
manner, knowing what poor policy it is to tell our
troubles, and made all the friends he could. Sev-
eral members of the Assembly, who came to have
printing done, became fast friends of the intelli-
gent and courteous printer.
In this pecuniary distress, two men offered to
loan the necessary funds, and two hundred and fifty
dollars were gratefully accepted from each. These
two persons Franklin remembered to his dying day.
Meredith was finally bought out by his own wish,
and Franklin combined with his printing a small
stationer's shop, with ink, paper, and a few books.
Often he wheeled his paper on a barrow along the
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 49
streets. Who supposed then that he would some
day be President of the Commonwealth of Penn-
sylvania ?
Franklin was twenty-four. Deborah Head's hus-
band had proved worthless, had run away from his
creditors, and was said to have died in the West
Indies. She was lonely and desolate, and Franklin
rightly felt that he could brighten her heart. They
were married September 1, 1730, and for forty years
they lived a happy life. He wrote, long after-
ward, " We are grown old together, and if she has
any faults, I am so used to them that- I don't per-
ceive them." Beautiful testimony ! He used to
say to young married people, in later years, " Treat
your wife always with respect ; it will procure re-
spect to you, not only from her, but from all that
observe it."
The young wife attended the little shop, folded
newspapers, and made Franklin's home a resting-
place from toil. He says : " Our table was plain
and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. My
breakfast was, for a long time, bread and milk (no
tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen por-
ringer, with a pewter spoon : but mark how luxury
will enter families, and make a progress in spite of
principle. Being called one morning to breakfast,
I found it in a china bowl, with a spoon of silver.
They had been bought for me without my knowl-
edge by my wife, and had cost her the enormous
sum of three and twenty shillings ! for which she
had no other excuse or apology to make, but that
50 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
she thought her husband deserved a silver spoon
and china bowl as well as any of his neighbors."
The years went by swiftly, with their hard work
and slow but sure accumulation of property. At
twenty-seven, having read much and written con-
siderable, he determined to bring out an almanac,
after the fashion of the day, "for conveying in-
struction among the common people, who bought
scarcely any other book." "Poor Richard" ap-
peared in December, 1732 ; price, ten cents. It
was full of wit and wisdom, gathered from ever}-
source. Three editions were sold in a month.
The average annual sale for twenty-five years was
ten thousand copies. Who can ever forget the
maxims which have become a part of our every -day
speech ? — " Early to bed and early to rise, makes a
man healthy, wealthy, and wise." — " He that hath a
trade, hath an estate." — " One to-day is worth two
to-morrows." — "Never leave that till to-morrow
which you can do to-day." — " Employ thy time well
if thou meanest to gain leisure ; and since thou art
not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour." —
" Three removes are as bad as a fire." — " What
maintains one vice would bring up two children." —
" Many a little makes amickle." — " Beware of little
expenses ; a small leak will sink a great ship."
— " If you would know the value of money, go and
try to borrow some ; for he that goes a-borrowing
goes a-sorrowing." — " Rather go to bed supperless
than rise in debt." — "Experience keeps a dear
school, but fools will learn in no other."
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 51
All interesting story is told concerning the prov-
erb, " If you would have your business done, go ; if
not, send." John Paul Jones, one of the bravest
men in the Revolutionary War, had become the
terror of Britain, by the great number of vessels he
had captured. In one cruise he is said to have
taken sixteen prizes ; burned eight and sent home
eight. With the Eanger, on the coast of Scotland,
he captured the Drake, a large sloop-of-war, and
two hundred prisoners. At one time, Captain
Jones waited for many months for a vessel which
had been promised him. Eager for action, he
chanced to see " Poor Richard's Almanac," and
read, " If you would have your business done, go ;
if not, send." He went at once to Paris, sought
the ministers, and was given command of a vessel,
which, in honor of Franklin, he called Bon Homme
Richard.
The battle between this ship and the Serapis,
when, for three hours and a half, they were lashed
together by Jones' own hand, and fought one of the
most terrific naval battles ever seen, is well known
to all who read history. The Bon Homme Richard
sunk after her victory, while her captain received
a gold medal from Congress and an appreciative
letter from General Washington.
So bravely did Captain Pearson, the opponent,
fight, that the King of England made him a knight.
" He deserved it," said Jones, " and, should I have
the good-fortune to fall in with him again, I will
make a lord of him."
52 BENJAMIN FRANKLI\.
No wonder that Franklin's proverbs were copied
all over the continent, and translated into French,
German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Bohemian.
Greek, and Portuguese. In all these very busy
years, Franklin did not forget to study. When he
was twenty-seven, he began French, then Italian,
then Spanish, and then to review the Latin of his
boyhood. He learned also to play on the harp,
guitar, violin, and violoncello.
Into the home of the printer had come two sons,
William and Francis. The second was an uncom-
monly beautiful child, the idol of his father.
Small-pox was raging in the city, but Franklin
could not bear to put his precious one in the slight-
est peril by inoculation. The dread disease came
into the home, and Francis Folger, named for his
grandmother — at the age of four years — went sud-
denly out of it. " I long regretted him bitterly,'*
Franklin wrote years afterwards to his sister Jane.
" My grandson often brings afresh to my mind the
idea of my son Franky, though now dead thirty -six-
years ; whom I have seldom since seen equalled in
every respect, and whom to this day I cannot think
of without a sigh." On a little stone in Christ
Church burying-ground, Philadelphia, are the boy's
name and age, with the words, " The delight of all
that knew him."
This same year, when Franklin was thirty, he
was chosen clerk of the General Assembly, his
first promotion. If, as Disraeli said, "the secret
of success in life is for a man to be ready for his
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 53
opportunity when it comes," Franklin had pre-
pared himself, by study, for his opportunity.
The year later, he was made deputy postmaster,
and soon became especially helpful in city affairs.
He obtained better watch or police regulations, or-
ganized the first fire-company, and invented the
Franklin stove, which was used far and wide.
At thirty-seven, so interested was he in educa-
tion that he set on foot a subscription for an
academy, which resulted in the noble University of
Pennsylvania, of which Franklin Avas a trustee for
over forty years. The following year his only
daughter, Sarah, was born, 'who helped to fill the
vacant chair of the lovely boy. The father, Josiah,
now died at eighty-seven, already proud of his son
Benjamin, for whom in his poverty he had done
the best he could.
About this time, the Leyden jar was discovered
in Europe by Musschenbroeck, and became the
talk of the scientific world. Franklin, always
eager for knowledge, began to study electricity,
with all the books at his command. Dr. Spence, a
gentleman from Great Britain, having come to
America to lecture on the subject, Franklin bought
all his instruments. So much did he desire to give
his entire time to this fascinating subject that he
sold his printing-house, paper, and almanac, for
ninety thousand dollars, and retired from business.
This at forty -two ; and at fifteen selling ballads
about the streets ! Industry, temperance,' and
economy had paid good wages. He used to say
54 11KXJAMIN FRANKLIN.
that these virtues, with "sincerity and justice,"
had won for him "the confidence of his country."
And yet Franklin, with all his saving, was gener-
ous. The great preacher Whitefield came to Phil-
adelphia to obtain money for an orphan-house in
Georgia. Franklin thought the scheme unwise,
and silently resolved not to give when the collec-
tion should be taken. Then, as his heart warmed
under the preaching, he concluded to give the cop-
per coins in his pocket ; then all the silver, several
dollars ; and finally all his five gold pistoles, so
that he emptied his pocket into the collector's
plate.
Franklin now constructed electrical batteries,
introduced the terms " positive " and " negative "
electricity, and published articles on the subject,
which his friend in London, Peter Collinson, laid
before the Royal Society. When he declared his
belief that lightning and electricity were identical,
and gave his reasons, and that points would draw
off electricity, and therefore lightning-rods be of
benefit, learned people ridiculed the ideas. Still,
his pamphlets were eagerly read, and Count de
Buffon had them translated into French. They
soon appeared in German, Latin, and Italian.
Louis XV. was so deeply interested that he or-
dered all Franklin's experiments to be performed
in his presence, and caused a letter to be writ-
ten to the Royal Society of London, expressing
his admiration of Franklin's learning and skill.
Strange indeed that such a scientist should arise
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.. 55
in the new world, be a man self-taught, and one so
busy in public life.
In 1752, when he was forty-six, he determined
to test for himself whether lightning and elec-
tricity were one. He made a kite from a large
silk handkerchief, attached a hempen cord to it,
with a silk string in his hand, and, with his son,
hastened to an old shed in the fields, as the thun-
der-storm approached.
As the kite flew upward, and a cloud passed
over, there was no manifestation of electricity.
When he was almost despairing, lo ! the fibres of
the cord began to loosen; then he applied his
knuckle to a key on the cord, and a strong spark
passed. How his heart must have throbbed as he
realized his immortal discovery !
A Ley den jar was charged, and Franklin went
home from the old shed to be made a member of
the Royal Society of London, to receive the Copley
gold medal, degrees from Harvard and Yale Col-
leges, and honors from all parts of the world. Ah !
if Josiah Franklin could have lived to see his son
come to such renown ! And Abiah, his mother, had
been dead just a month ! But she knew he was
coming into greatness, for she wrote him near the
last : " I am glad to hear you are so well respected
in your town for them to choose you an alderman,
although I don't know what it means, or what the
better you will be of it besides the honor of it. I
hope you will look up to God, and thank him for
all his good providences towards you." Sweetest
56 BENJAMIN FK AN KLIN.
of all things is the motherhood that never lets go
the hand of the child, and always points Godward !
Lightning-rods became the fashion, though there
was great opposition, because many believed that
lightning was one of the means of punishing the
sins of mankind, and it was wrong to attempt to
prevent the Almighty from doing his will. Some
learned men urged that a ball instead of a point
be used at the end of the rod, and George III.
insisted that the president of the Royal Society
should favor balls. "But, sire," said Sir John
Pringle, " I cannot reverse the laws and operations
of nature."
"Then, Sir John, you had perhaps better re-
sign," was the reply, and the obstinate monarch
put knobs on his conductors.
Through all the scientific discord, Franklin had
the rare good-sense to remain quiet, instead of
rushing into print. He said, "I have never en-
tered into any controversy in defence of my philo-
sophical opinions ; I leave them to take their
chance in the world. If they are right, truth and
experience will support them ; if ivrony, they
ought to be refuted and rejected. Disputes are
apt to sour one's temper and disturb one's quiet."
Franklin was not long permitted to enjoy his
life of study. This sanie year, 1752, he was
elected a member of the Pennsylvania Assembly,
and reflected every year for ten years, " without,"
as he says, " ever asking any elector for his vote.
or signifying, either directly or indirectly, any
HENJAM1N FR AS KLIN. 57
desire of being chosen." He was also, with Mr.
William Hunter of Virginia, appointed postmas-
ter-general for the colonies, having been the post-
master iu Philadelphia for nearly sixteen years.
So excellent was his judgment, and so concilia-
tory his manner, that he rarely made enemies, and
accomplished much for his constituents. He cut
down the rates of postage, advertised unclaimed
letters, and showed his rare executive ability and
tireless energy.
For many years the French and English had
been quarrelling over their claims in the »New
World, till finally the " French and Indian War,"
or "Seven Years' War," as it was named in Eu-
rope, began. Delegates from the various colonies
were sent to Albany to confer with the chiefs of
the Six Nations about the defence of the country.
Naturally, Franklin was one of the delegates.
Before starting, he drew up a plan of union for
the struggling Americans, and printed it in the
Gazette, with the now well known wood-cut at the
bottom ; a snake cut into as many pieces as there
were colonies, each piece having upon it the first
letter of the name of a colony, and underneath the
words, " JOIN or DIE." He presented his plan of
union to the delegates, who, after a long debate,
unanimously adopted it, but it was rejected by
some of the colonies because they thought it gave
too much power to England, and the king rejected
it because he said, "The Americans are trying to
make a government of their own."
58 BENJAMIN Fl! AN KLIN.
Franklin joined earnestly in the war, and com-
manded the forces in his own State, but was sooii
sent abroad by Pennsylvania, as her agent to bring
some troublesome matters before royalty. He
reached London, July 27, 1757, with his son
William, no longer the friendless lad looking for
a position in a printing-house, but the noted scien-
tist, and representative of a rising nation. Mem-
bers of the Royal Society hastened to congratulate
him ; the universities at Oxford and Edinburgh
conferred degrees upon him. While he attended to
matters of business in connection with his mission,
he entertained his friends with his brilliant elec-
trical experiments, and wrote for several maga-
zines on politics and science.
After five years of successful labor, Doctor
Franklin went back to Philadelphia to receive
the public thanks of the Assembly, and a gift of
fifteen thousand dollars for his services. His son
was also appointed governor of New Jersey, by
the Crown. Franklin was now fifty-seven, and
had earned rest and the enjoyment of his honors.
But he was to find little rest in the next twenty-
five years.
The " Seven Years' War " had been terminated
by the Treaty of Paris, February 10, 1763. Of
course, great expenses had been incurred. The fol-
lowing year, Mr. Grenville, Prime Minister of Eng-
land, proposed that a portion of the enormous debt
be paid by America through the Stamp Act. The
colonies had submitted already to much taxation
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 59
without any representation in Parliament, and had
many grievances. The manufacture of iron and
steel had been forbidden. Heavy duties had been
laid upon rum, sugar, and molasses, and constables
had been authorized to search any place suspected
of avoiding the duties.
When the Stamp Act was suggested, the colonies,
already heavily in debt by the war, remonstrated
in public meetings, and sent their protests to the
king. Franklin, having been reappointed agent
for Pennsylvania, used all possible effort to pre-
vent its passage, but to no avail. The bill passed
in March, 1765. By this act, deeds and convey-
ances were taxed from thirty-seven cents to one
dollar and twenty -five cents apiece ; college de-
grees, ten dollars ; advertisements, fifty cents each,
and other printed matter in proportion.
At once, the American heart rebelled. Bells
were tolled, and flags hung at half-mast. In New
York, the Stamp Act was carried about the streets,
with a placard, "The folly of England and the
ruin of America." The people resolved to wear no
cloth of English manufacture. Agents appointed
to collect the hated tax were in peril of their lives.
Patrick Henry electrified his country by the well
known words, "Caesar had his Brutus, Charles I.
had his Cromwell, and George III." — and when
the loyalists shouted, " Treason ! " he continued,
" may profit by their example. If that be treason,
make the most of it."
Grenville saw, too late, the storm he had aroused..
60 BEXJAMIN FHANKL1\.
Franklin was now, as he wrote to a friend, "ex-
tremely busy, attending members of both houses,
informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in a
continual hurry from morning till night." His
examination before the House of Commons filled
England with amazement and America with joy.
When asked, u If the Stamp Act should be repealed,
would it induce the Assemblies of America to ac-
knowledge the rights of Parliament to tax them,
and would they erase their resolutions ? " he re-
plied, " No, never ! "
"What used to be the pride of the Ameri-
cans ? "
" To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of
Great Britain."
" What is now their pride ? "
" To wear their old clothes over again, till they
can make new ones," said the fearless Franklin.
The great commoners William Pitt and Ed-
mund Burke were our stanch friends. A cry of
distress went up from the manufacturers of Eng-
land, who needed American markets for their goods,
and in 1766 the Stamp Act was repealed.
America was overjoyed, but her joy was of short
duration; for in the very next year a duty was
placed on glass, tea, and other articles. Then riots
ensued. The duty was repealed on all save tea.
When the tea arrived in Boston Harbor, the indig-
nant citizens threw three hundred and forty chests
overboard ; in Charlestown, the people stored it in
cellars till it mildewed ; and from New York and
HEN JAM IN FRANKLIN. 61
Philadelphia they sent it home again to Old Eng-
land.
In 1774, the Boston Port Bill, which declared
that no merchandise should be landed or shipped
at the wharves of Boston, was received by the
colonists with public mourning. September 5 of
this year, the First Continental Congress met at
Philadelphia, and again a manly protest was sent
to George III. Again the great Pitt, Earl of Chat-
ham, poured out his eloquence against what he saw
was close at hand — "a most accursed, wicked, bar-
barous, cruel, unjust, and diabolical war." But
George III. was immovable.
The days for Franklin were now bitter in the
extreme. Ten thousand more troops had been sent
to General Gage in Boston, to compel obedience.
Franklin's wife was dying in Philadelphia, longing
to see her husband, who had now been absent ten
years, each year expecting to return, and each year
detained by the necessities of the colonies. At
last he started homeward, landing May 5, 1775.
His daughter had been happily married to Mr.
Itichard Bache, a merchant, but his wife was dead,
and buried beside Franky. The battles of Lexing-
ton and Concord had been fought ; the War for
Freedom was indeed begun.
Franklin was now almost seventy, but ready for
the great work before him. He loved peace. He
said : " All wars are follies, very expensive and
very mischievous ones. When will mankind be
convinced of this, and agree to settle their differ-
(32 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
ences by arbitration ? Were they to do it, even by
the cast of a die, it would be better than by fight-
ing and destroying each other." But now war was
inevitable. With the eagerness of a boy he wrote
to Edmund Burke : " General Gage's troops made
a most vigorous retreat, — twenty miles in three
hours, — scarce to be paralleled in history ; the
feeble Americans, who pelted them all the way,
could scarce keep up with them."
He was at once made a member of the Conti-
nental Congress, called to meet May 10, at Phila-
delphia. George Washington and Patrick Henry,
John and Samuel Adams, were in the noted assem-
blage. They came with brave hearts and an ear-
nest purpose. Franklin served upon ten commit-
tees: to engrave and print Continental money, to
negotiate with the Indians, to send another but
useless petition to George III., to find out the
source of saltpetre, and other matters. He was
made postmaster-general of the United States, and
was also full of work for Pennsylvania.
England had voted a million dollars to conquer
the colonies, and had hired nearly twenty thousand
Hessians to fight against them, besides her own
skilled troops. The army under Washington had
no proper shelter, little food, little money, and
no winter clothing. Franklin was Washington's
friend and helper in these early days of discour-
agement. At first the people had hoped to keep
united to the mother country ; now the time had
arrived for the Declaration of Independence, by
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 68
which America was to become a great nation.
Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Frank-
lin, Roger Sherman of Connecticut, and Robert R.
Livingston of New York were appointed to draw
up the document. Jefferson wrote the Declara-
tion, and Franklin and Adams made a few verbal
changes. And then, with the feeling so well
expressed by Franklin, "We must hang together,
or else, most assuredly, we shall all hang sepa-
rately," the delegates fearlessly signed their names
to what Daniel Webster well called the "title-deed
of our liberties."
And now another important work devolved upon
Franklin. The colonies believed that the French
were friendly and would assist. He was unani-
mously chosen commissioner to France, to repre-
sent and plead the cause of his country. Again
the white-haired statesman said good-bye to Amer-
ica, and sailed to Europe. As soon as he arrived,
he was welcomed with all possible honor. The
learned called upon him ; his pictures were hung
in the shop-windows, and his bust placed in the
Royal Library. When he appeared on the street a
crowd gathered about the great American. He
was applauded in every public resort.
" Franklin's reputation," said John Adams, " was
more universal than that of Leibnitz or Newton,
Frederick or Voltaire ; and his character more be-
loved and esteemed than any or all of them. His
name was familiar to government and people, to
kings, courtiers, nobility, clergy, and philosophers,
64 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
as well as plebeians, to such a degree that there
was scarcely a peasant or a citizen, a valet de
chambre, coachman or footman, a lady's chamber-
maid or a scullion in a kitchen, who was not
familiar with it, and who did- not consider him a
friend to humankind. When they spoke of him
they seemed to think he was to restore the golden
age." Royalty made him welcome at court, and
Marie Antoinette treated him with the gracious-
ness which had at first won the hearts of the
French to the beautiful Austrian. France made
a treaty of alliance with America, and recognized
her independence, February 6, 1778, which gave
joy and hope to the struggling colonies. Franklin
was now made minister plenipotentiary. What a
change from the hated work of moulding tallow
candles !
The great need of the colonies was money to
carry on the war, and, pressed as was France in
the days preceding her own revolution, when M.
Keeker was continually opposing the grants, she
loaned our country — part of it a gift — over five
million dollars, says James Parton, in his admir-
able life of Franklin. For this reason, as well as
for the noble men like Lafayette who came to our
aid, the interests of France should always be dear
to America. When the Revolutionary War was
over, Franklin helped negotiate the peace, and
returned to America at his own request in the fall
of 1785, receiving among his farewell presents a
portrait of Louis XVI., set with four hundred and
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 65
eight diamonds. Thomas Jefferson became minis-
ter in his stead. When asked if he had replaced
Dr. Franklin, he replied, " I succeed ; no one can
ever replace him."
He was now seventy-nine years old. He had
been absent for nine years. When he landed,
cannon were fired, church-bells rung, and crowds
greeted him with shouts of welcome. He was at
once made President of the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania, and at eighty-one a delegate to the
convention that framed our Constitution, where he
sat regularly five hours a day for four months.
To him is due the happy suggestion, after a heated
discussion, of equal representation for every State
in the Senate, and representation in proportion to
population in the House.
At eighty-four, in reply to a letter to Washing-
ton, he received these tender words : —
" If to be venerated for benevolence, if to be admired for
talents, if to be esteemed for patriotism, if to be beloved for
philanthropy, can gratify the human mind, you must have
the pleasing consolation to know that you have not lived in
vain. And I flatter myself that it will not be ranked
among the least grateful occurrences of your life to be
assured that, so long as I retain my memory, you will be
recollected with respect, veneration, and affection, by your
sincere friend, GEORGE WASHINGTON."
The time for the final farewell came, April 17,
1790, near midnight, when the gentle and great
statesman, doubly great because so gentle, slept
quietly in death. Twenty thousand persons gath-
66 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
ered to do honor to the celebrated dead. Not only
in this country was there universal mourning, but
across the ocean as well. The National Assembly
of France paid its highest eulogies.
By his own request, Franklin was buried beside
his wife and Franky, under a plain marble slab, in
Christ Church Cemetery, Philadelphia, with the
words, —
Benjamin
nT,
Deborah
C "90.
He was opposed to ostentation. He used to
quote the words of Cotton Mather to him when he
was a boy. On leaving the minister's house, he
hit his head against a beam. " ' Stoop,' said Mather ;
'you are young, and have the world before you;
stoop as you go through it, and you will miss
many hard thumps ! ' This advice, thus beat into
my head, has frequently been of use to me, and I
often think of it when I see pride mortified, and
misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying
their heads too high.''
Tolerant with all religions, sweet-tempered, with
remarkable tact and genuine kindness, honest, and
above jealousy, he adopted this as his rule, which
we may well follow: "To go straight forward in
doing what appears to me to be right, leaving the
consequences to Providence."
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
FIVE miles east of Charlottesville. Virginia,
near where the River Bivanna enters the
James, Thomas Jefferson was born, April 13, 1743,
the third in a family of eight children.
Peter Jefferson, his father, descended from a
Welsh ancestry, was a self-made man. The son of
a farmer, with little chance for schooling, he im-
proved every opportunity to read, became, like
George Washington, a surveyor, and endured cheer-
fully all the perils of that pioneer life. Often, in
making his survey across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
he was obliged to defend himself against the at-
tacks of wild beasts, and to sleep in hollow trees.
When the provisions gave out, and his companions
fell fainting beside him, he subsisted on raw flesh,
and stayed on until his work was completed.
So strong was he physically that when two
hogsheads of tobacco, each weighing a thousand
pounds, were lying on their sides, he could raise
them both upright at once. Besides this great
strength of body, he developed great strength of
mind. Shakespeare and Addison were his favorites.
67
fig THOMAS JEFFERSON.
It was not strange that by and by he became a
member of the Virginia House of Burgesses.
When Peter Jefferson was thirty-one, he married
into a family much above his own socially — Jane,
the daughter of Isham Randolph, a rich and cult-
ured gentleman. She was but nineteen, of a most
cheerful and hopeful temperament, with a passion-
ate love of nature in every flower and tree.
From these two the boy Thomas inherited the
two elements that make a man's character beautiful,
not less than a woman's — strength and sweetness.
With his mother's nature, he found delight in every
varying cloud, every rich sunset or sunrise, and in
that ever new and ever wonderful change from
new moon to full and from full to new again.
How tender and responsive such a soul becomes !
How it warms toward human nature from its love
for the material world !
When Thomas was five years old, he was sent to
a school where English only was taught. The hours
of confinement doubtless seemed long to a child
used to wander at will over the fields, for one day,
becoming impatient for school to be dismissed, he
went out-of-doors, knelt behind the house, and re-
peated the Lord's Prayer, thus hoping to expedite
matters !
At nine he entered the family of Rev. William
Douglas, a Scotch clergyman, where he learned
Greek, Latin, and French. So fond did he become
of the classics that he said, years later, if he were
obliged to decide between the pleasure derived from
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 69
them and the estate left him by his father, he would
have greatly preferred poverty and education.
All these early years at " Shadwell," the Jeffer-
son home, — so named after his mother's home in
England, where she was born, — Thomas had an
especially dear companion in his oldest sister, Jane.
Her mind was like his own, quick and compre-
hensive, and her especial delight, like his, was in
music. Three things, he said, became a passion
with him, "Mathematics, music, and architecture."
Jane had a charming voice, and her brother became
a skilled performer on the violin, often practising
three hours a day in his busy student life.
Peter Jefferson, the strong, athletic Assembly-
man, died suddenly when Thomas was but fourteen,
urging, as his dying request, that this boy be well
educated. There was but one other son, and he
an infant. The sweet-tempered Mrs. Jefferson,
under forty, was left with eight children to care
for ; but she kept her sunny, hopeful heart.
When Thomas was a little more than sixteen, he
entered the college of William and Mary, at Will-
iamsburg. He was a somewhat shy, tall, slight
boy, eager for information, and warm-hearted. It
was not surprising that he made friends with those
superior to himself in mental acquirements. He
says, in his Memoirs : " It was my great good-for-
tune, and what, perhaps, fixed the destinies of my
life, that Dr. William Small of Scotland was the
professor of mathematics, a man profound in most
of the useful branches of science, with a happy
70 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
talent of communication, correct and gentlemanly
manners, and an enlarged and liberal mind. He,
most happily for me, became soon attached to me,
and made me his daily companion when not engaged
in the school ; and from his conversation I got my
first views of the expansion of science and of the
system of things in which we are placed. Fortu-
nately, the philosophical chair became vacant soon
after my arrival at college, and he was appointed
to fill it per interim ; and he was the first who ever
gave in that college regular lectures in ethics,
rhetoric, and belles-lettres. He returned to Europe
in 1762, having previously filled up the measure of
his goodness to me by procuring for me, from his
most intimate friend, George Wythe, a reception as
a student of law under his direction, and introduced
me to the acquaintance and familiar table of Gov-
ernor Fauquier, the ablest man who had ever filled
that office."
The governor, though an accomplished scholar
and great patron of learning, was very fond of
card-playing, and of betting in the play. In this
direction his influence became most pernicious to
Virginia. Strangely enough, young Jefferson never
knew one card from another, and never allowed
them to be played in his house.
He devoted himself untiringly to his books. He
worked fifteen hours a day, allowing himself only
time to run out of town for a mile in the twilight,
before lighting the candles, as necessary exercise.
Though, from the high social position of his
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 71
mother, he had many acquaintances at Williams-
burg, Thomas went little in society, save to dine
with the prominent men above mentioned. These
were a constant stimulant to him. A great man,
or the written life of a great man, becomes the
maker of other great men. The boy had learned
early in life one secret of success ; to ally one's
self to superior men and women.
Years afterward, he wrote to his eldest grand-
son, "I had the good-fortune to become acquainted
very early with some characters of very high stand-
ing, and to feel the incessant wish that I could ever
become what they were. Under temptations and
difficulties, I would ask myself, what would Dr.
Small, Mr. Wythe, Peyton Eandolph do in this
situation ? What course in it will insure me their
approbation ? I am certain that this mode of de-
ciding on my conduct tended more to correctness
than any reasoning powers I possessed. Knowing
the even and dignified lives they pursued, I could
never doubt for a moment which of two courses
would be in character for them. From the circum-
stances of my position, I was often thrown into the
society of horse-racers, card-players, fox-hunters,
scientific and professional men, and of dignified
men ; and many a time have I asked myself in the
enthusiastic moment of the death of a fox, the
victory of a favorite horse, the issue of a question
eloquently argued at the bar or in the great coun-
cil of the nation, well, which of these kinds of
reputation should I prefer — that of a horse-jockey,
72 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
a fox-hunter, an orator, or the honest advocate of
my country's rights ? "
The very fact that Jefferson thus early in life
valued character and patriotism above everything
else was a sure indication of a grand and successful
manhood. We usually build for ourselves the kind
of house we start to build in early years. If it is
an abode of pleasure, we live in the satiety and
littleness of soul which such a life brings. If it
is an abode of worship of all that is pure and ex-
alted, we walk among high ideals, with the angels
for ministering spirits, and become a blessing to
ourselves and to mankind.
In these college-days, Jefferson became ac-
quainted with the fun-loving, brilliant Patrick
Henry, forming a friendship that became of great
value to both. After two years in college, where
he had obtained a fair knowledge of French, Span-
ish, and Italian, besides his Latin and Greek, he
went home to spend the winter in reading law.
But other thoughts continually mingled with Coke.
On every page he read the name of a beautiful girl
of whom he had become very fond. She had given
him a watch-paper, which having become spoiled
accidentally, the law-student wrote to his friend
John Page, afterward governer of Virginia, " I
would fain ask the favor of Miss Becca Burwell to
give me another watch-paper of her own cutting,
which I should esteem much more, though it were a
plain round one, than the nicest in the world, cut
by other hands." He asked advice of Page as to
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 73
whether he had better go to her home and tell her
what was in his heart. " Inclination tells me to
go, receive my sentence, and be no longer in sus-
pense ; but reason says, ' If you go, and your
attempt proves unsuccessful, you will be ten times
more wretched than ever.' "
He battled with Coke all winter and all the next
summer, — a young man in love who can thus bend
himself to his work shows a strong will, — going to
Williamsburg in October to attend the General
Court, and to meet and ask Miss Burwell for her
heart and hand. Alas ! he found her engaged to
another. Possibly, he was " ten times more
wretched than ever," but it was wise to know the
worst.
A young man of twenty-one usually makes the
best of an unfortunate matter, remembering that
life is all before him, and he must expect difficul-
ties. The following year, a sister married one of
his dearest friends, Dabney Carr ; and the same
year, 1765, his pet sister, Jane, died. To the end
of his life, he never forgot this sorrow ; and, even
in his extreme old age, said "that often in church
some sacred air, which her sweet voice had made
familiar to him in youth, recalled to him sweet
visions of this sister, whom he had loved so well
and buried so young."
After five years spent in law studies, rising at
five, even in winter, for his work, he began to prac-
tise, with remarkable success. He was not a gifted
speaker, but, having been a close student, his knowl-
74 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
edge was highly valued. Years afterward, an old
gentleman who knew Jefferson, when asked. " "\Yhat
was his power in the court-room ? " answered, " He
always took the right side."
Partou says, in his valuable life of Jefferson.
" He had most of the requisites of a great lawyer ;
industry, so quiet, methodical, and sustained that
it amounted to a gift ; learning, multifarious and"
exact ; skill and rapidity in handling books ; the
instinct of research, that leads him who has it to
the fact he wants, as surely as the hound scents the
game ; a serenity of temper, which neither the in-
aptitude of witnesses nor the badgering of counsel
could ever disturb ; a habit of getting everything
upon paper in such a way that all his stores of
knowledge could be marshalled and brought into
action ; a ready sympathy with a client's mind ; an
intuitive sense of what is due to the opinions, prej-
udices, and errors of others ; a knowledge of the
few avenues by which alone unwelcome truth can
find access to a human mind ; and the power to
state a case with the clearness and brevity that
often make argument superfluous."
In 1768, when he was only twenty -five years old.
he offered himself as a candidate for the Virginia
Legislature, and was elected. He entered upon
his public life, which lasted for forty years, with
the resolution " never to engage, while in public
office, in any kind of enterprise for the improve-
ment of my fortune ; " and he kept his resolu-
tion.
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 75
Two years after he began to practise law, the
house at " Shadwell " was burned. He was absent
from home, and greatly concerned about his library.
When a colored man came to tell him of his loss,
Jefferson inquired eagerly for his books. " Oh,"
replied the servant, carelessly, "they were all
burnt, but ah ! we saved your fiddle ! "
A new house was now begun, two miles from
the Shadwell home, on a hill five hundred and
eighty feet high, which he called afterwards
" Monticcllo," the Italian for " Little Mountain."
This had long been a favorite retreat for Jefferson.
He and Dabney Carr had come here day after day,
in the summer-time, and made for themselves a
rustic seat under a great oak, where they read law
together, and planned the rose-colored plans of
youth. Sweet, indeed, is it that we have such
plans in early years. Those get most out of life
who live much in the ideal ; who see roses along
every pathway, and hear Nature's music in every
terrific storm.
Jefferson was building the Monticello home with
bright visions for its future. Another face had
come into his heart, this time to remain forever.
It was a beautiful face; a woman, with a slight,
delicate form, a mind remarkably trained for the
times, and a soul devoted to music. She had been
married, and was a widow at nineteen. Her father
was a wealthy lawyer ; her own portion was about
forty thousand acres of land and one hundred and
thirty-five slaves. Although Jefferson had less
76 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
land, his annual income was about five thousand
dollars, from this and his profession.
Martha Skelton was now twenty-three, and Jef-
ferson nearly twenty-nine. So attractive a woman
had many suitors. The story is told that two in-
terested gentlemen came one evening to her father's
house, with the purpose of having their future defi-
nitely settled. When they arrived, they heard
singing in the drawing-room. They listened, and
the voices were unmistakably those of Jefferson
and Martha Skelton. Making up their minds that
" their future was definitely settled," as far as she
was concerned, they took their hats and withdrew.
Jefferson was married to the lady January 1,
1772, and after the wedding started for Monticello.
The snow had fallen lightly, but soon became so
deep that they were obliged to quit the carriage
and proceed on horseback. Arriving late at night,
the fires were out and the servants in bed ; but love
keeps hearts warm, and darkness and cold were for-
gotten in the satisfaction of having won each other.
This satisfaction was never clouded. For years,
the home life deepened with its joys and sorrows.
A little girl, Martha, was first born into the home ;
then Jane, who died when eighteen months old,
and then an only son, who died in seventeen days.
Monticello took on new beauty. Trees were set
out and flower-beds planted. The man who so
loved nature made this a restful and beautiful
place for his little group.
The year after Jefferson's marriage, Dabney Carr,
THOMAS JEFFEBSON. 77
the brilliant young member of the Virginia Assem-
bly, a favorite in every household, eloquent and
lovable, died in his thirtieth year. His wife, for
a time, lost her reason in consequence. Carr was
buried at " Shadwell," as Jefferson was away from
home ; but, upon his return, the boyish promise
was kept, and the friend was interred under the
old oak at Monticello, with these words on the
stone, written by Jefferson : —
"To his Virtue, Good-Sense, Learning, and Friendship,
this stone is dedicated by Thomas Jefferson, who,
of all men living, loved him most."
At once, Mrs. Carr, with her six little children,
came to Jefferson's home, and lived there ever
after, he educating the three sons and three daugh-
ters of his widowed sister as though they were his
own. Thus true and tender was he to those whom
he loved.
For some years past, Jefferson had been develop-
ing under that British teaching Avhich led America
to freedom. When a student of law, he had lis-
tened to Patrick Henry's immortal speech in the
debate on the Stamp Act. " I attended the debate,"
said Jefferson in his Memoir, " and heard the
splendid display of Mr. Henry's talents as a popu-
lar orator. They were indeed great ; such as I
have never heard from any other man. He ap-
peared to me to speak as Homer Wrote. ... I
never heard anything that deserved to be called by
78 THOMAS JEFFER80X.
the same name with what flowed from him ; and
where he got that torrent of language from is
inconceivable. I have frequently shut my eyes
while he spoke, and, when he was done, asked
myself what he had said, without being able to
recollect a word of it. He was no logician. He
was truly a great man, however, — one of enlarged
views."
The whole country had become aflame over the
burning of the Gaspee, in March, 1772, — a royal
schooner anchored at Providence, E. I. The
schooner came there to watch the commerce of
the colonies, and to search vessels. She made
herself generally obnoxious. Having run aground
in her chase of an American packet, a few Rhode
Islanders determined to visit her and burn her.
The little company set out in eight boats, muffling
their oars, reaching her after midnight. The Gas-
pee was taken unawares, the hands of the crew tied
behind them, and the vessel burned.
At once a reward of five thousand dollars was
offered for the detection of any person concerned ;
but, though everybody knew, nobody would tell.
Word came from England " that the persons con-
cerned in the burning of the Gaspee schooner, and
in the other violences which attended that daring
insult, should be brought to England to be tried.''
This fired the hearts of the colonists. The Vir-
ginia House of Burgesses appointed a committee
to correspond with other Legislatures on topics
which concerned the common welfare. The royal
THOMAS JEFFERSOX. 79
governor of Virginia had no liking for such free
thought and free speech as this, and dissolved the
House, which at once repaired to a tavern and con-
tinued its deliberations.
Soon a convention was called, before which
Jefferson's "Summary View of the Rights of
British America" was laid. It was worded as
a skilful lawyer and polished writer knew how to
word it ; and it stated the case so plainly that,
when it was published, and sent to Great Britain,
Jefferson, to use his own words, " had the honor of
having his name inserted in a long list of pro-
scriptions enrolled in a bill of attainder com-
menced in one of the Houses of Parliament, but
suppressed by the hasty step of events." Remote-
ness from England doubtless saved his life.
Jefferson went up to the Continental Congress
at Philadelphia, which opened May 10, 1775, taking
his "Summary View" with him. The delegates
were waiting to see what Virginia had to say in
these important days. She had instructed her
men to offer a resolution that "the United Colo-
nies be free and independent States," which was
done by Richard Henry Lee, on June 7. Four
days later, Congress appointed a committee of
five to prepare a Declaration of Independence.
Thomas Jefferson, only thirty-two, one of the
youngest members of Congress, was made chair-
man. How well he had become fitted to write
this immortal document ! It was but a condensa-
tion of the " Summary View." He was also, says
80 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
John T. Morse, in his life of Jefferson, "a man
without an enemy. His abstinence from any ac-
tive share in debate had saved him from giving
irritation."
The Declaration still exists in Jefferson's clear
handwriting. For three days the paper was hotly
debated, " John Adams being the colossus of the
debate." Jefferson did not speak a word, though
Franklin cheered him as he saw him " writhing
under the acrimonious criticism of some of its
parts."
When it was adopted, the country was wild with
joy. It was publicly read from a platform in
Independence Square. Military companies gath-
ered to listen to its words, fired salutes, and lighted
bonfires in the evenings. The step, dreaded, yet
for years longed for, had been taken — separation
and freedom, or union and slavery. Jefferson
came to that Congress an educated, true-hearted
lover of his country ; he went back to Martha
Jefferson famous as long as America shall endure.
He was reflected to Congress, but declined to
serve, as he wished to do important work in his
own State, in the changing of her laws.
But now, October 8, 1776, came a most tempting
offer ; that of joint commissioner with Benjamin
Franklin and Silas Deane to represent America at
the court of France. He had always longed for
European travel ; he was a fine French scholar,
and could make himself most useful to his new
country, but his wife was too frail to undertake
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 81
the long journey. She was more to him than the
French mission, and he stayed at home.
Born with a belief in human brotherhood and a
love for human freedom, he turned his attention
in the Virginia Legislature to the repeal of the
laws of entail and primogeniture, derived from
England. He believed the repeal of these, and
the adoption of his bill " for establishing religious
freedom," would, as he said, form a system by
which every fibre would be eradicated of ancient
or future aristocracy. " The repeal of the laws of
entail would prevent the accumulation and per-
petuation of wealth in select families. . . . The
abolition of primogeniture, and equal partition of
inheritances, removed the feudal and unnatural
distinctions which made one member of every
family rich and all the rest poor. . . . The restora-
tion of the rights of conscience relieved the people
from taxation for the support of a religion not
theirs."
There was much persecution of Dissenters by
the Established Church. Baptists were often
thrown into prison for preaching, as Patrick
Henry declared, "the Gospel of the Saviour to
Adam's fallen race." For nine years the matter
of freedom of conscience was wrestled with, be-
fore Virginia could concede to her people the right
to worship God as they pleased.
Jefferson was averse to slavery, worked for the
colonization of the slaves, and in 1778 carried
through a bill against their further importation.
82 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
He Avrote later, in his "Notes on Virginia " : "The
whole commerce between master and slave is a per-
petual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the
most unremitting despotism, on the one part, and
degrading submissions on the other. ... I trem-
ble for my country when I reflect that God is just ;
that his justice cannot sleep forever; that, consider-
ing numbers, nature, and natural means only, a rev-
olution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of
situations, is among possible events; that it may
become probable by supernatural interference!
The Almighty has no attribute which can take
side with us in such a contest." When his State
could not bring itself to adopt his plan of freeing
the slaves, he wrote in his autobiography, in 1821,
" The day is not distant when it 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." How great indeed
was the man who could look beyond his own per-
sonal interests for the well-being of the race !
He worked earnestly for common schools and
the establishment of a university in his native
State, believing that it is the right and duty of
a nation to make its people intelligent and capa-
ble of self-government.
In June, 1779, Jefferson was made governor of
Virginia, to succeed Patrick Henry, her first gov-
ernor. The Revolutionary War had been going
forward, with some victories and some defeats.
Virginia had given generously of men, money, and
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 83
provisions. The war was being transferred to the
South, as its battle-ground. British fleets had laid
waste the Atlantic coast. Benedict Arnold and
Cornwallis had ravaged Virginia. When General
Tarlton was ordered bo Charlottesville, in 1781,
and it seemed probable that Monticello would fall
into his hands, Jefferson moved his family to a
place of safety.
When the British arrived, and found that the
governor was not to be captured, they retired
without committing the slightest injury to the
place. This was in return for kindness shown by
Jefferson to four thousand English prisoners, who
had been sent from near New York, to be in camp
at Charlottesville, where it seemed cheaper to pro-
vide for them. Jefferson rightly said: "It is for
the benefit of mankind to mitigate the horrors of
war as much as possible. The practice, therefore,
of modern nations, of treating captive enemies
with politeness and generosity, is not only de-
lightful in contemplation, but really interesting to
all the world — friends, foes, and neutrals." «
Two faithful servants at Monticello, fearful that
the silver might be stolen by the red-coats, con-
cealed it under a floor a few feet from the ground ;
Caesar, removing a plank, and slipping through
the cavity, received it from the hands of Martin.
The soldiers came just as the last piece was
handed to Caesar ; the plank was immediately
restored to its place, and for nearly three days
and nights the poor colored man remained in the
84 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
dark, without food, guarding his master's treasures.
When a soldier put his gun to the breast of Mar-
tin and threatened to fire unless Jefferson's where-
abouts was disclosed, the brave fellow answered,
"Fire away, then!" A man or woman who wins
and holds such loyalty from dependents is no
ordinary character.
After holding the office of governor for two
years, Jefferson resigned, feeling that a military
man would give greater satisfaction. Such a one
followed him, but with no better success among
the half-despairing patriots, destitute of money
and supplies. Jefferson, with his sensitive spirit,
felt keenly the criticisms of some of the people,
saying, " They have inflicted a wound on my spirit
which will only be cured by the all-healing grave."
He refused to return to public life, and looked
forward to happy years of quiet study at Monti-
cello.
How little we know the way which lies before
us. We long for sunlight, and perchance have
only. storms. We love to be as children who must
be carried over the swamps and rough places, not
knowing that strength of manhood and womanhood
comes generally through struggling. The "happy
years" at Monticello were already numbered.
Another little girl had come to gladden the heart
of the man who so loved children, and had quickly
taken her departure. And now Martha Jeffer-
son, at thirty-four, the sweet, gentle woman who
had lived with him only ten short years, was also
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 85
going away. She talked with him calmly about
the journey ; she said she could not die content if
she thought their children would have a step-
mother. The young governor, without a moment's
thought as to his future happiness, taking her
hand, solemnly promised that he would never
marry again, and he kept his word. It is not
known that any person ever entered the place left
vacant in his heart by Martha Jefferson's death.
For four months he had watched by her bed-
side, or had his books so near her that he could
work without being separated from her. When
she died he fainted, and remained so long insensi-
ble that the attendants thought he could never be
restored to consciousness. For three weeks he
kept his room, ministered to by his little daughter
Martha, who wound her arms about his neck, with
that inexpressible consolation that only a pure,
sweet child-nature can give. She said years later,
" I was never a moment from his side. He walked
almost incessantly, night and day, only lying down
occasionally, when nature was completely ex-
hausted. . . . When, at last, he left his room, he
rode out. and from that time he was on horseback
rambling about the mountain, in the least fre-
quented roads, and just as often through the
woods. In those melancholy rambles I was his
constant companion, a solitary witness to many a
burst of grief."
He longed now for a change of scene ; Monticello
was no more a place of peace and rest. Being
86 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
elected to Congress, he took his seat in November,
1783. To him we owe, after much heated discus-
sion, the adoption of the present system of dollars
and cents, instead of pounds and shillings. In
May, 1784, he was appointed minister to France,
to join Dr. Franklin and John Adams in negoti-
ating commercial treaties. He sailed in July,
taking with him his eldest child, Martha, leaving
Mary and an infant daughter with an aunt.
The educated governor and congressman of
course found a cordial welcome in Parisian society,
for was he not the author of the Declaration of
Independence, endeared to all lovers of liberty, in
whatever country. He was charmed with French
courtesy, thrift, and neatness, but he was always
an American in sentiment and affection. He wrote
to his young friend, James Monroe, afterwards
President : " The pleasure of the trip to Europe
will be less than you expect, but the utility greater.
It will make you adore your own country, — its
soil, its climate, its equality, liberty, laws, people,
and manners. How little do my countrymen know
what precious blessings they are in possession of,
and which no other people on earth enjoy ! "
More and more he loved, and believed in, a republic.
He wrote to a friend : " If all the evils which can
arise among us from the republican form of gov-
ernment, from this day to the day of judgment,
could be put into scale against what this country
suffers from its monarchical form in a week, or
England in a month, the latter would preponderate.
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 87
No race of kings has ever presented above one man
of common-sense in twenty generations. The best
they can do is to leave things to their ministers ;
and what are their ministers but a committee badly
chosen ? "
Jefferson spent much time in looking up the
manufacturing and agricultural interests of the
country, and kept four colleges — Harvard, Yale,
William and Mary, and the College of Philadelphia
— advised of new inventions, new books, and new
phases of 'the approaching Revolution.
He had placed his daughter Martha in a leading
school. His letters to her in the midst of his busy
life show the beautiful spirit of the man, who was
too great ever to rise above his affectional nature.
" The more you learn the more I love you," he
wrote her ; " and I rest the happiness of my life on
seeing you. beloved by all the world, which you will
be sure to be if to a good heart you join those ac-
complishments so peculiarly pleasing in your sex.
Adieu, my dear child ; lose no moment in improv-
ing your head, nor any opportunity of exercising
your heart in benevolence."
His baby-girl, Lucy, died two years after her
mother, and now only little Mary was left in Amer-
ica. He could not rest until this child was with
him in France. She came, with a breaking heart
on leaving the old Virginia home and her aunt.
On board the vessel she became so attached to the
captain that it was almost impossible to take her
from him. She spent some weeks with Mrs. John
88 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
Adams in London, who wrote : " A finer child I
never saw. I grew so fond of her, and she was so
much attached to me, that, when Mr. Jefferson sent
for her, they were obliged to force the little creature
away."
Once in Paris, the affectionate child was placed
at school with her sister Martha, to whom Jefferson
wrote : " She will become a precious charge upon
your hands. . . . Teach her, above all things, to be
good, because without that we can neither be val-
ued by others nor set any value on ourselves.
Teach her to be always true ; no vice is so mean as
the want of truth, and at the same time so useless.
Teach her never to be angry ; anger only serves to
torment ourselves, to divert others, and alienate
their esteem."
The love of truth was a strong characteristic of
Jefferson's nature, one d| the most beautiful char-
acteristics of any life. There is no other foun-
dation-stone so strong and enduring on which to
build a granite character as the granite rock of
truth. Jefferson wrote to his children and nephews :
"If you ever find yourself in any difficulty, and
doubt how to extricate yourself, do what is right,
and you will find it the easiest way of getting out
of the difficulty. . . . Give up money, give up fame,
give up science, give the earth itself, and all it con-
tains, rather than do an immoral act. And never
suppose that, in any possible situation or any cir-
cumstances, it is best for you to do a dishonorable
thing." Again he wrote : " Determine never to be
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 89
idle. No person will have occasion to complain of
the want of time, who never loses any. It is won-
derful how much may be done if we are always
doing."
After five years spent in France, most of which
time he was minister plenipotentiary, Dr. Franklin
having returned home, and John Adams having
gone to England, Jefferson set sail for America,
with his two beloved children, Martha, seventeen,
and Mary, eleven. He had done his work well,
and been honored for his wisdom and his peace-
loving nature. Daniel Webster said of him : " No
court in Europe had at that time a represent-
ative in Paris commanding or enjoying higher
regard, for political knowledge or for general
attainments, than the minister of this then infant
republic."
Even before Jefferson rq^ched home he had been
appointed Secretary of State by President Wash-
ington. He accepted with a sense of dread, and
his subsequent difficulties with Alexander Hamil-
ton, Secretary of the Treasury, realized his worst
fears. The one believed in centralization of power
— a stronger national government ; the other be-
lieved in a pure democracy — the will of the peo-
ple, with the least possible governing power. The
two men were opposite in character, opposite in
financial plans, opposite in views of national polity.
Jefferson took sides with the French, and Hamilton
with the English in the French Ee volution. The
press grew bitter over these differences, and the
90 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
noble heart of George Washington was troubled.
Finally Jefferson resigned, and retired to Monti-
cello. "I return to farming," he said, "with an
ardor which I scarcely knew in ray youth."
Three years later, he was again called into public-
life. As Washington declined a reelection, John
Adams and Thomas Jefferson became the two
Presidential candidates. The one receiving the
most votes of the electors became President, and
the second on the list, Vice-President. John
Adams received three more votes than Jefferson,
and was made President.
On March 4, 1797, Jefferson, as Vice-President,
became the leader of the Senate, delivering a short
but able address. Much of the next four years he
spent at Monticello, watching closely the progress
of events. Matters with the French republic grew
more complicated. She demanded an alliance with
the United States against England, which was re-
fused, and war became imminent. At the last
moment, John Adams rose above the tempest of
the hour, went quite half-way in bringing about a
reconciliation, and the country was saved from a
useless and disastrous war.
The Federalists had passed some unwise meas-
ures, such as the " Alien Law," whereby the Presi-
dent was authorized to send foreigners out of the
country ; and the " Sedition Law," which punished
with fine and imprisonment freedom of speech and
of the press. Therefore, at the next presidential
election, when Adams and Jefferson were again
THOMAS JEFFEliSOtf. 91
candidates, the latter was made President of the
United States, the Federalists having lost their
power, and the Republicans — afterwards called
Democrats — having gained the ascendancy.
The contest had been bitter. Jefferson's religious
belief had been strongly assailed. Through it all
he had the common-sense to know that the cool-
headed, good-natured man, who has only words of
kindness, and who rarely or never makes an
enemy, is the man who wins in the end. He con-
trolled himself, and therefore his party, in a man-
ner almost unexampled.
March 4, 1801, at the age of fifty-eight, in a
plain suit of clothes, the great leader of Democracy
rode to the Capitol, hitched his horse to the fence,
entered the Senate Chamber, and delivered his
inaugural address. Thus simple was the man,
who wished ever to be known as "the friend
of the people." Alas ! that sweet Martha Jef-
ferson could not have lived to see this glad day !
To what a proud height had come the hard-
working college boy and the tender-hearted, toler-
ant man !
As President, he was the idol of his party, and,
in the main, a wise leader. He made few removals
from office, chiefly those appointed by John Adams
just as he was leaving the Presidency. Jefferson
said removals " must be as few as possible, done
gradually, and bottomed on some malversation or
inherent disqualification." One of the chief acts
was the purchase from France of a great tract of
92 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
land, called the Territory of Louisiana, for fifteen
million dollars.
During his second four years in office, there were
more perplexities. Aaron Burr, Vice-President dur-
ing Jefferson's first term, was tried on the charge
of raising an army to place himself on the throne
of Mexico, or at the head of a South-western confed-
eracy. England, usually at war with France, had
issued orders prohibiting all trade with that coun-
try and her allies ; Napoleon had retorted by a like
measure. Both nations claimed the right to take
seamen out of United States vessels. The British
frigate Leopard took four seamen by force from
the American frigate Chesapeake. The nation
seemed on the verge of war, but it was post-
poned, only to come later, in 1812, under James
Madison.
Congress passed the Embargo Act, by which all
American vessels were detained in our own ports.
It had strong advocates and strong opponents, but
was repealed as soon as Jefferson retired from
office. Owing to these measures our commerce
was well-nigh destroyed.
At the age of sixty-five years, Jefferson retired
to Monticello, " with a reputation and popularity,"
says Mr. Morse, " hardly inferior to that of Wash-
ington." He had had the wisdom never to assume
the bearing of a leader. He had been careful to
avoid disputes. Once, when riding, he met a
stranger, with whom engaging in conversation, he
found him bitterly opposed to the President. Upon
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 93
being asked if he knew Mr. Jefferson personally,
he replied, " No, nor do I wish to."
" But do you think it fair to repeat such stories
about a man, and condemn one whom you do not
dare to face ? "
" I shall never shrink from meeting him if he
ever comes in my way."
" Will you, then, go to his house to-morrow, and
be introduced to him, if I promise to meet you
there ? "
" Yes, I will."
The stranger came, to his astonishment found
that the man he had talked with was the President
himself, dined with him, and became his firm friend
and supporter ever afterward.
For the next seventeen years, Jefferson lived at
Monticello, honored and visited by celebrities from
all the world. Sometimes as many as fifty persons
stayed at his home over night. One family of six
came from abroad, and remained with him for ten
months. His daughter Martha, married to Thomas
Mann Randolph, presided over his hospitable
home, and with her eleven children made the place
a delight, for she had " the Jefferson temperament
— all music and sunshine." The beautiful Mary,
who married her cousin, John W. Eppes, had died
at twenty-six, leaving two small children, who, like
all the rest, found a home with Jefferson.
In the midst of this loving company, the great
man led a busy life, carrying on an immense corre-
spondence, by means of which he exerted a com-
94 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
manding influence on the questions of the day as
well as on all social matters. To a child named for
him, he wrote a letter which the boy might read
after the statesman's death. In it are these help-
ful words: "Adore God. Reverence and cherish
your parents. Love your neighbor as yourself.
Be just. Be true. Murmur not at the ways of
Providence."
To his daughter Mary he wrote these lines,
which well might be hung up in every house-
hold :-
" Harmony in the married state is the very first
object to be aimed at. Nothing can preserve affec-
tions uninterrupted but a firm resolution never to
differ in will, and a determination in each to con-
sider the love of the other as of more value than
any object whatever on which a wish had been
fixed. How light, in fact, is the sacrifice of any
other wish when weighed against the affections of
one with whom we are to pass our whole life. And
though opposition in a single instance will hardly
of itself produce alienation, yet every one has his
pouch into which all these little oppositions are
put. While that is filling, the alienation is insen-
sibly going on, and when filled it is complete. It
would puzzle either to say why, because no one
difference of opinion has been marked enough to
produce a serious effect by itself. But he finds his
affections wearied out by a constant stream of little
checks and obstacles.
"Other sources of discontent, very common in-
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 95
deed, are the little cross-purposes of husband and
wife, in common conversation ; a disposition in
either to criticise and question whatever the other
says ; a desire always to demonstrate and make
him feel himself in the wrong, and especially in
company. Nothing is so goading. Much better,
therefore, if our companion views a thing in a light
different from what we do, to leave him in quiet
possession of his view. What is the use of rectify-
ing him, if the thing be unimportant, and, if im-
portant, let it pass for the present, and wait a softer
moment and more conciliatory Occasion of revising
the subject together. It is wonderful how many
persons are rendered unhappy by inattention to
these little rules of prudence."
Jefferson rose early ; the sun, he said, had not for
fifty years caught him in bed. But he bore great
heart-sorrow in these declining years, and bore it
bravely. His estate had diminished in value, and
he had lost heavily by indorsements for others.
His household expenses were necessarily great.
Finally, debts pressed so heavily that he sold to
Congress the dearly prized library, which he had
been gathering for fifty years. He received nearly
twenty-four thousand dollars for it, about half its
original value. But this amount brought only
temporary relief.
Then he attempted to dispose of some of his
land by lottery, as was somewhat the fashion of
the times. The Legislature reluctantly gave per-
mission, but as soon as his friends in New York,
96 THOMAS JEFFERSOX.
Philadelphia, and Baltimore heard of his pecuniary
condition, they raised about eighteen thousand
dollars for him, and the lottery plan was aban-
doned. He was touched by this proof of esteem,
and said : " No cent of . this is wrung from the
tax-payer; it is the pure and unsolicited offering
of love."
Jefferson was now, as he said, "like an old
watch, with a pinion worn out here and a wheel
there, until it can go no longer." On July 3. 1826,
after a brief illness, he seemed near the end. He
desired to live till the next day, and frequently
asked if it were the Fourth. He lingered till
forty minutes past the noon of July 4, and then
slept in death. That same day, John Adams, at
ninety-one, was dying at Quincy, Mass. His last
words were, as he went out at sunset, the booming
of cannon sounding pleasant to his patriotic heart,
"Thomas Jefferson still lives." He did not know
that his great co-laborer had gone home at midday.
"The two aged men," says T. W. Higginson,
"floated on, like two ships becalmed at nightfall,
that drift together into port, and cast anchor side
by side." Beautiful words !
The death of two Presidents at this memorable
time has given an additional sacredness to our
national Independence Day.
Among Jefferson's papers were found, care-
fully laid away, "some of my dear, dear wife's
handwriting," and locks of hair of herself and
children. Also a sketch Qf the granite stone he
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 97
desired for his monument, with these words to be
inscribed upon it.
Here was buried
THOMAS JEFFEKSON,
Author of the Declaration of Independence,
Of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom,
And Father of the University of Virginia.
He was buried by his family and servants, on the
spot selected by himself and Dabney Carr in boy-
hood, his wife on one side and his loving Mary on
the other.
The beloved Monticello passed into other hands.
Martha Jefferson and her children would have
been left penniless had not the Legislatures of
South Carolina and Louisiana each voted her ten
thousand dollars. Thomas Jefferson Bandolph,
the grandson, with the assistance of his daughters,
who established a noted school, paid all the remain-
ing debts, many thousand dollars, to save the honor
of their famous ancestor.
To the last, Jefferson kept his sublime faith in
human nature and in the eternal justice of repub-
lican principles, saying it is "iny conviction that
should things go wrong at any time, the people will
set them to rights by the peaceable exercise of their
elective rights." Whatever his religious belief in
its details of creed, he said, " I am a Christian in
the only sense in which Jesus wished any one to
be — sincerely attached to his doctrines in prefer-
98 THOMAS JEFFERSON.
ence to all others." He compiled a little book of
the words of Christ, saying, "A more precious
morsel of ethics was never seen."
In his public life he was honest, in his domestic
life lovable, and he died, as he had lived, tolerant
of the opinions of others, even-tempered, believing
in the grandeur and beauty of human nature.
What though we occasionally trust too much ! Far
better that than to go through life doubting and
murmuring! That he believed too broadly in
States' Eights for the perpetuity of the Union,
our late Civil War plainly showed, and his views
on Free Trade are, of course, shared by a portion
only of our citizens. However, he gave grandly
of the affection of his heart and the power of his
intellect, and he received, as he deserved, the love
and honor of thousands, the world over.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
TO the quiet and picturesque island of Nevis,
one of the West Indies, maiiy^ears ago, a
Scotch merchant came to build for himself a home.
He was of a proud and wealthy family, allied cen-
turies before to William the Conqueror.
On this island Jived also a Huguenot family, who
had settled there after the revocation of the Edict
of Nantes, which drove so many Protestants out of
the country. In this family was a beautiful and
very intellectual girl, with refined tastes and gen-
tle, cultured manners. Through the ambition of
her mother she had contracted a marriage with a
Dane of large wealth, followed by the usual unhap-
piness of marrying simply for money. A divorce
resulted, and the attractive young woman married
the Scotch merchant, James Hamilton. A son,
Alexander, was born to them, January 11, 1757.
But he was born into privation rather than joy
and plenty. The generous and kindly father failed
in business ; the beautiful mother died in his child-
hood, and he was thrown upon the bounty of her
relations.
The opportunities for education on the island
100 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
were limited. The child read all the books he
could lay his hands upon, becoming especially fond
of Plutarch's Lives and Pope's works. He was
fortunate also in having the friendship of a supe-
rior man, Dr. Knox, a Presbyterian clergyman, who
delighted in the boy's quick and comprehensive
mind.
At twelve years of age he was obliged to earn
money, and was placed in the counting-house of
Nicholas Cruger. Probably, like other boys, he
wished he were rich, but found later in life that
success, is usually born of effort and economy. He
early chose " Perseverando " for his motto, and it
helped to carry him to the summit of power.
That the counting-house was not congenial to
him, a letter to a school-fellow in New York
plainly shows. "To confess my weakness, Ned,
my ambition is prevalent, so that I contemri the
grovelling condition of a clerk, or the like, to which
my fortune condemns me, and would willingly risk
my life, though not my character, to exalt my sta-
tion. I am confident, Ned, that my youth excludes
me from any hopes of immediate preferment, nor
do I desire it, but I mean to prepare the way for
futurity. I'm no philosopher, you see, and may be
justly said to build castles in the air; my folly
makes me ashamed, and beg you'll conceal it ; yet,
Neddy, we have seen such schemes successful, when
the projector is constant. I shall conclude by
saying, I wish there was a war."
The " projector was constant," and the "schemes
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 101
became successful." He was indeed "preparing
the way for futurity," this lad not yet fourteen.
At this time, Mr. Cruger made a visit to New
York, and left the precocious boy in charge of his
business. Such reliance upon him increased his
self-reliance, and helped to fit him to advise and
uphold a nation in later years.
In these early days he began to write both prose
and poetry. When he was fifteen, the Leeward
Islands were visited by a terrific hurricane. In one
town five hundred houses were blown down. So
interested was Alexander in this novel occurrence
that he wrote a description of it for a newspaper.
When the authorship was discovered, it was decided
by the relatives that such a boy ought to be edu-
cated. The money was raised for this purpose,
and he sailed for New York, taking with him some
valuable letters of introduction from Dr. Knox.
He was soon attending a grammar-school at
Elizabeth, New Jersey. The principal, Francis
Barber, was a fine classical scholar, patriotic, enter-
ing the Eevolutionary War later ; the right man to
impress his pupils for good. Alexander, with his
accustomed energy and ambition, set himself to
work. In winter, wrapt in a blanket, he studied
till midnight, and in summer, at dawn, resorted to
a cemetery near by, where he found the quiet he
desired. In a year he was ready to enter college.
Attracted to Princeton, he asked Dr.. Wither-
spoon, the president of the college, the privilege
of taking the course in about half the usual time.
102 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
The good days of election in study had not yet
dawned. The dull and the bright must have the
same routine; the one urged to his duties, the
other tired by the delay. The doctor could not
establish so peculiar a precedent, and Princeton
missed the honor of educating the great statesman.
He entered Columbia College, and made an ex-
cellent record for himself. In the debating club,
say his classmates, " he gave extraordinary displays
of richness of genius and energy of mind." He
won strong friendships to himself by his generous
and unselfish nature, and his ardent love for others.
It is only another proof of the old rule, that " Like
begets like." Those who give love in this world
usually receive it. Selfishness wins nothing — self-
sacrifice, all things.
The college-boy was often seen walking under the
large trees on what is now Dey Street, New York,
talking to himself in an undertone, and apparently
in deep thought. The neighbors knew the slight,
dark-eyed lad, as the "young West Indian," and
wondered concerning his future. When he was
seventeen, a " great meeting in the fields " was held
in New York, July 6, 1774. While Hamilton was
studying, the colonies of America had been look-
ing over into the promised land of freedom, driven
thither by some unwise task-masters. Boston had
seasoned the waters of the Atlantic Avith British
tea. New York, well filled with Tories, yet had
some Patriots, who felt that the hour was approach-
ing when all must stand together in the demand
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 103
for liberty. Accordingly, the "great meeting"
was called, to teach the people the lessons of the
past and the duties of the future.
Hamilton had recently returned from a visit to
Boston, and was urged to be present and speak at
the meeting. He at first refused, being a stranger
in the country and unknown. He attended, how-
ever; and when several speakers had addressed
the eager crowds, thoughts flowed into the youth's
mind and pleaded for utterance. He mounted the
platform. The audience stared at the stripling.
Then, as he depicted the long endured oppression
from England, urged the wisdom of resistance, and
painted in glowing colors the sure success of the col-
onies, the hearts of the multitude took fire with
courage and hope. When he closed, they shouted,
" It is a collegian ! it is a collegian ! "
Hamilton was no longer a West Indian ; he was,
heart and soul, an American. Liberty now grew
more exciting than college books. Dr. Seabury,
afterwards Bishop of Connecticut, wrote two tracts
entitled " Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the
Continental Congress," and "Congress Canvassed
by a Westchester Farmer." These pamphlets at-
tempted to show the foolishness of opposing a
monarchy like England. They were scattered
broadcast.
Then tracts appeared in answer; clear, terse,
sound, and able. These said, "No reason can be
assigned why one man should exercise any power
or preeminence over his fellow-creatures more than
104 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
another, unless they have voluntarily vested him
with it. Since, then, Americans have not, by any
act of theirs, empowered the British Parliament to
make laws for them, it follows they can have no
just authority to do it. ... If, by the necessity of
the thing, manufactures should once be established,
and take root among us, they will pave the way
still more to the future grandeur and glory of
America; and, by lessening its need of external
commerce, will render it still securer against the
encroachments of tyranny."
This was rank heterodoxy toward a power which
had crippled the manufactures of America in all
possible ways, and wished to keep her a great agri-
cultural country. " The sacred rights of mankind,"
said the writer, " are not to be rummaged for among
old parchments or musty records ; they are written,
as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human
nature, by the hand of the Divinity itself, and can
never be erased or obscured by mortal power."
The wonder grew as to the authorship of these
pamphlets. Some said John Jay wrote them ; some
said Governor Livingstone. When it was learned
that Hamilton, only eighteen, had composed them,
the Tories stood aghast, and the Patriots saw that
a new star had risen in the heavens.
Hamilton knew that the war was inevitable ;
that the time must soon come for which he longed
when he wrote to his friend Ned, " I wish there
was a war." He immediately began to study mili-
tary affairs. There are always places to be filled
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 1Q5
by those who make themselves ready. He was
learning none too early. His corps, called the
" Hearts of Oak " in green uniforms and leathern
caps, drilled each morning. While engaged in
removing cannon from the battery, a boat from
the Asia, a British ship-of-war, fired into the men,
killing the person who stood next to Hamilton.
At once the drums were beaten, and the people
rushed to arms. The king's store-houses were pil-
laged, and the " Liberty Boys " marched through
the streets, threatening revenge on every Tory.
Young Hamilton, fearless before the Asia, could
also be fearless in defence of his friends. Dr.
Cooper, the President of Columbia College, was a
pronounced Tory. When the mob approached the
steps of the institution, Hamilton, nothing daunted,
appeared before them, and urged coolness, lest they
bring "disgrace on the cause of liberty." Dr.
Cooper imagined that his liberal pupil was assisting
the mob, and cried out from an upper window,
" Don't listen to him, gentlemen ! he is crazy, he is
crazy ! " But the mob did listen, and the presi-
dent was saved from harm.
The Revolutionary War had begun. Lexington
and Bunker Hill were as beacon-fires to the new
nation. In 1776, the New York Convention or-
dered a company of artillery to be raised, and
Hamilton applied for the command of it. Only
nineteen, and very boyish in looks, his fitness for
the position was doubted, till his excellent exami-
nation proved his knowledge, and he was appointed
106 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
captain. He used the last money sent him by his
relatives in the West Indies, to equip his company.
College days were now over, and the busy life of
the soldier had commenced. For most young men,
the stirring events of the times would have filled
every moment and every thought. Not so the man
born to have a controlling and permanent influence
in the republic. He found time to study about
money circulation, rates of exchange, commerce,
taxes, increase of population, and the like, because
he knew that a great work must be done by some-
body after the war. How true it is that if we fit
ourselves for a great work, the work will find us.
Meantime, Captain Hamilton drilled his troops
so well that General Greene observed it, made the
acquaintance of the captain, invited him to his
headquarters, and spoke of him to Washington.
Had not the work been well done, it would not
have commanded attention, but this attention was
an important stepping-stone to fame and honor.
Hamilton was ever after a most loyal friend to
General Greene.
The company was soon called into active ser-
vice. At the disastrous battle of Long Islancl,
Hamilton was in the thickest of the fight, and
brought up the rear, losing his baggage and a field-
piece. After the retreat up the Hudson, at Har-
lem Heights, Washington observed the skill used
in the construction of some earthworks, and, find-
ing that the engineer was the young man introduced
to him by General Greene, invited him to his tent.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 1Q7
This was the beginning of a life-long and most
devoted friendship between the great commander
and the boyish captain.
Later, at the battles of Trenton and Princeton,
Hamilton was fearless and heroic. " Well do I
recollect the day," said a friend, " when Hamilton's
company marched into Princeton. It was a model
of discipline ; at their head was a boy, and I won-
dered at his youth ; but what was my surprise when,
struck with his slight figure, he was pointed out to
me as that Hamilton of whom we had already
heard so much. ... A mere stripling, small,
slender, almost delicate in frame, marching beside
a piece of artillery, with a cocked hat pulled down
over his eyes, apparently lost in thought, with his
hand resting on a cannon, and every now and then
patting it, as if it were a favorite horse or a pet
plaything."
He had so won the esteem and approbation of
Washington that he was offered a position upon
his staff, which he accepted March 1, 1777, with
the rank of lieutenant-colonel. His work now
was constant and absorbing. The correspondence
was immense, but all was done with that clearness
and elegance of diction which had marked the
young collegian. He was popular with old and
young, being called the " Little Lion," as a term of
endearment, in appreciation of bravery and nobility
of character.
When the skies looked darkest, as at Valley
Forge, Hamilton was habitually cheerful, seeing
108 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
always a rainbow among the clouds. His enthu-
siasm was contagious. He carried men with him
by a belief in his own powers, and by deep sym-
pathy with others. Lafayette loved him as a
brother. He wrote Hamilton, "Before this cam-
paign I was your friend and very intimate friend,
agreeably to the ideas of the world. Since my
second voyage, my sentiment has increased to such
a point the world knows nothing about. To show
both, from want and from scorn of expression, I
shall only tell you — Adieu ! "
Baron Steuben used to say, in later days, " The
Secretary of the Treasury is my banker ; my Ham-
ilton takes care of me when he cannot take care of
himself."
Hamilton wrote to his dear friend Laurens, " Cold
in my professions — warm in my friendships — I
wish it were in my power, by actions rather than
words, to convince you that I love you. . . . You
know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how
much it is my desire to preserve myself free from
particular attachments, and to keep my happiness
independent of the caprices of others. You should
not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal
into my affections without my consent."
Best of all, Washington confided in him, and
loved him, and we usually love those in whom we
have confided. When he wanted a calcitrant gen-
eral, like Gates, brought to terms, he sent the tact-
ful, clear-headed Hamilton on the mission. When
he wanted decisive action, he sent the same fearless
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 109
young officer, who knew no such word as failure.
Sometimes he broke down physically, but the power
of youth triumphed, and he was soon at work
again.
On his expedition to General Gates, in Novem-
ber, 1777, with all his desire to keep himself "free
from particular attachments," he laid the founda-
tion for the one lasting attachment of his life. At
the house of the wealthy and distinguished General
Philip Schuyler, he met and liked the second
daughter, Elizabeth. Three years later, in the
spring of 1780, when the officers brought their
families to Morristown, the acquaintance ripened
into love, and December 14, 1780, when Hamilton
was twenty-three, he was married to Miss Schuyler.
The father of the young lady was proud and happy
in her choice. He wrote Hamilton, " You cannot,
my dear sir, be more happy at the connection you
have made with my family than I am. Until the
child of a parent has made a judicious choice, his
heart is in continual anxiety ; but this anxiety was
removed the moment I discovered it was you on
whom she placed her affections."
In this year, 1780, the country was shocked by
the treason of Benedict Arnold. Hamilton was
sent in pursuit, only to find that he had escaped to
the British. He ministered to the heart-broken
wife of Arnold, as best he could. He wrote to a
friend, "Her sufferings were so eloquent that I
wished myself her brother, to have a right to be-
come her defender."
HO ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
For Major Andre he had the deepest sympathy,
and admiration of his manly qualities. He wrote
to Miss Schuyler, afterward his wife, " Poor Andre
suffers to-day. Everything that is amiable in virtue,
in fortitude, in delicate sentiment and accomplished
manners, pleads for him ; but hard-hearted policy
calls for a sacrifice. I urged a compliance with
Andre's request to be shot, and I do not think it
would have had an ill effect."
A month after his marriage, his only difficulty
with General Washington occurred. The comman-
der-in-chief had sent for Hamilton to confer with
him, who, meeting Lafayette, was stopped by him
for a few moments' conversation on business.
When he reached Washington, the general said,
" Colonel Hamilton, you have kept me waiting at
the head of the stairs these ten minutes. I must
tell you, sir, you treat me with disrespect." The
proud young aid answered, "I am not conscious
of it, sir ; but since you have thought it necessary
to tell me so, we part." He therefore resigned his
position, glad to be free to take a more active part
in the war. Washington, with his usual magna-
nimity, made overtures of reconciliation, and they
became ever after trusted co-workers.
All these years, Hamilton had shown himself
brave and untiring in the interests of his adopted
country. At the battle of Monmouth, his horse
was shot under him. At Yorktown, at his own
earnest request, he led the perilous assault upon
the enemy's works, and carried them. When Ham-
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. HI
ilton saw that the enemy was driven back, he
humanely ordered that not a British soldier should
be killed after the attack. He says in his report,
" Incapable of imitating examples of barbarity, and
forgetting recent provocations, the soldiers spared
every man who ceased to resist."
Washington appreciated his heroism, and said,
" Few cases have exhibited greater proof of intre-
pidity, coolness, and firmness than were shown on
this occasion."
Letters home to his wife show the warm heart of
Hamilton. " I am unhappy — I am unhappy be-
yond expression. I am unhappy because I am to
be so remote from you ; because I am to hear from
you less frequently than I am accustomed to do. I
am miserable, because I know you will be so. ...
Constantly uppermost in my thoughts and affec-
tions, I am happy only when my moments are de-
voted to some office that respects you. I would
give the world to be able to tell you all I feel and
all I wish ; but consult your own heart, and you will
know mine. . . . Every day confirms me in the in-
tention of renouncing public life, and devoting
myself wholly to you. Let others waste their time
and their tranquillity in a vain pursuit of power
and glory ; be it my object to be happy in a quiet
retreat, with my better angel."
At -the close of the Revolutionary War, he re-
paired to Albany, spending the winter at the home
of General Schuyler, his wife's father. He had but
little money, and his dues in the service of an im-
112 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
poverished country were unpaid ; but he had what
was far better, ability. He determined to study law.
For four months, he bent himself unreservedly to
his work, and was admitted to the bar. He stead-
ily refused offers of pecuniary aid from General
Schuyler, preferring to support his wife and infant
son by his own exertions. Such a man, of proud
spirit and unwavering purpose, would, of course,
succeed.
Friends who appreciated the service he had
rendered to his country now interceded in his
behalf, and he was appointed Continental receiver
of taxes for New York. To accept a position
meant, to him, persistent labor, and success in it if
possible. He at once repaired to Poughkeepsie,
where the Legislature was in session ; presented his
plans of taxation, and prevailed upon that body to
pass a resolution asking for a convention of the
States that a Union might be effected, stronger
than the existing Confederation.
The position as receiver of taxes was sometimes
a disagreeable one, but it was another round in the
ladder which carried him to fame. He had in-
creased the number of his acquaintances. His
energy and his knowledge of public questions had
been revealed to the people ; and the result was his
election to Congress, at the age of twenty-five.
Thus rapidly the ambitious', energetic, and intelli-
gent young man had risen in influence.
That his voice would be heard in Congress was
a foregone conclusion. General Schuyler wrote his
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. H3
daughter soon after Congress met : " Participate
afresh in the satisfaction I experience from the
connection you have made with my beloved Hamil-
ton. He affords me happiness too exquisite for
expression. I daily experience the pleasure of
hearing encomiums on his virtue and abilities, from
those who are capable of distinguishing between
real and pretended merit. He is considered, as he
certainly is, the ornament of his country, and
capable of rendering it the most essential services,
if his advice and suggestions are attended to."
The country was deeply in debt from the Revo-
lutionary War. It had no money with which to
pay its soldiers ; its paper currency was nearly
worthless ; dissatisfaction was apparent on every
hand. There was little unity of interest among
the States. Hamilton's plans for raising money,
and for a more centralized government, were un-
heeded ; and, after a year in Congress, he returned
to the practice of law, saying, "The more I see,
the more I find reason for those who love this
country to weep over its blindness."
As soon as the war was over, the people began
to grow more bitter than ever toward the Tories, or
loyalists. Harsh legislative measures were passed.
The " Trespass Act " declared that any person who
had left his abode in consequence of invasion
could collect damages of those who had occupied
the premises during his absence. A widow, re-
duced to poverty by the war, brought suit against
a rich Tory merchant, who had lived in her house
114 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
while the Tories held the city. Hamilton, feeling
that a principle of justice was involved, took the
part of the merchant, and by a brilliant speech, in
which he contended that "the fruits of immova-
bles belong to the captor so long as he remains in
actual possession of them," he gained the case. Of
course, he brought upon himself much obloquy;
was declared to be a "Britisher," and lover of
monarchy, a charge to which he must have grown
accustomed in later years.
Hamilton's pen was not idle in this controversy.
He wrote a -pamphlet, advocating respect for law
and justice, which was called " Phocion," from its
signature. It was read widely, both in England
and America. Among the many replies was one
signed "Mentor," which drew from Hamilton a
"Second letter of Phocion." So inflamed did
public opinion become that in one of the clubs it
was decided that one person after another should
challenge Hamilton, till he should fall in a duel.
This came to the knowledge of " Mentor " and the
abhorrent plan was stopped by his timely interfer-
ence. There are too few men and women great
enough to be tolerant of ideas in opposition to
their own, or to persons holding those ideas. Tol-
erance belongs to great souls only.
Matters in the States had so grown from bad to
worse, and Congress, with its limited powers, was
so helpless, that a convention was finally called at
Philadelphia, May 25, 1787, to provide for a more
complete and efficient Union. Nine States sent
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 115
delegates : Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina,
South Carolina, and Georgia. General Washing-
ton was made president of the convention. A
plan of government was submitted, called the
" Virginia plan," which provided for a Congress of
two branches, one to be elected by the people, the
other from names suggested by the State Legisla-
tures. There was to be a President, not eligible
for a second term. Then the " New Jersey plan "
was submitted ; which was simply a revision of the
Articles of Confederation.
The debates were earnest, but most intelligent ;
for men in those times had studied the existing
governments of the world, and the fate of previous
republics. Hamilton was present as a delegate,
and, early in the convention, gave his plan for a
new government, in a powerful speech, six hours
long. He reviewed the whole domain of history,
the present condition of the States, and the reasons
for it, and then developed his plan. Those only
could vote for President and Senators who owned
a certain amount of real estate. These officials
were to hold office for life or during good behavior.
The President should appoint the Governors of the
various States.
Of course, the believers in "States' Rights"
could not for a moment concede such power to one
man, at the head of a nation. When Hamilton
affirmed that the "British government was the
best model in existence," he awoke the antagonism
116 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
of the American heart. He probably knew that
his plan could not be adopted, but it strengthened
the advocates of a central government. Many
delegates went home under protest ; but the Con-
stitution, brought into its present form largely by
James Madison, was finally adopted, and sent to
the different States for ratification. *
The opposition to its adoption was very great.
Hamilton, with praiseworthy spirit, accepted it as
the best thing attainable under the circumstances,
and worked for it night and day with all the vigor
and power of his masterly intellect. To the Fed-
eralist he contributed fifty-one papers in defence
of the Constitution, and did more than any other
man to secure its ultimate adoption.
Henry Cabot Lodge, in his clear and admirable
" Life of Hamilton," says : " As an exposition of the
meaning and purposes of the Constitution, the
Federalist is now, and always will be cited, on the
bench and at the bar, by American commentators,
and by all writers on constitutional law. As a
treatise on the principles of federal government
it still stands at the head, and has been turned
to as an authority by the leading minds of
Germany, intent on the formation of the German
Empire."
Party feeling ran high. When a State enrolled
herself in favor of the Constitution, bonfires, feasts,
and public processions testified to the joy of a por-
tion of the people ; while the burning in effigy of
prominent Federalists, mobs and riots, testified to
ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
the anger of the opponents. In the State of New
York the contest was extremely bitter. Hamilton
used all his logic, his eloquence, his fire, and his
boundless activity to carry the State in favor of the
Constitution. Said Chancellor Kent: "He urged
every motive and consideration that ought to sway
the human, mind in such a crisis. He touched,
with exquisite skill, every chord of sympathy that
could be made to vibrate in the human breast.
Our country, our honor, our liberties, our fire-
sides, our posterity were placed in vivid colors
before us."
When told by a friend, who was just starting on
a journey, that he would be questioned in relation
to the adoption of the Constitution, Hamilton re-
plied : " God only knows ! Several votes have been
taken, by which it appears that there are two to
one against us." But suddenly his face brightened,
as he said, "Tell them that the convention shall
never rise until the Constitution is adopted."
The excitement in New York city became in-
tense. Crowds collected on the street-corners, and
whispered, " Hamilton is speaking yet ! " Late in
the evening of July 28, 1788, it was announced that
the Constitution had been adopted by New York, the
vote standing thirty to twenty-seven. At once the
bells were rung and guns were fired. A great pro-
cession was formed of professional men and artisans,
bearing pictures of Washington and Hamilton, and
banners, with the words " Federalist," " Liberty of
the Press," and "The Epoch of Liberty." The
118 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
federal frigate Hamilton was fully manned, and
received the plaudits of the crowds.
When the Constitution was adopted, at last,
Washington was made President, April 30, 1789.
It was not strange that he chose for his Secretary of
the Treasury the man who had studied finance by
the camp-fires of the Revolution. At thirty -two
Hamilton was in the Cabinet of his country. At
once Congress asked him to prepare a report on the
public credit, stating his plan of providing for the
public debt. In about three months the report was
ready. It advocated the funding of all the debts
of the United States incurred through the war.
As to the foreign and domestic debts, all persons
seemed agreed that these should be paid ; but the
assumption of the debts of the different States met
with the most violent opposition. Those who owed
a few million dollars were unwilling to help those
who owed many millions.
Hamilton advocated a foreign loan, not to ex-
ceed twelve millions, and a revenue derived from
taxes on imports ; such a revenue as would not only
provide funds for the new nation, but protect man-
ufactures from the competition of the old world.
The believers in protection have had no more ear-
nest or able advocate than Hamilton.
His next report was an elaborate one upon
national banks, and the establishment of a United
States bank, which should give a uniform system
of bank-notes, instead of the unreliable and uneven
values of the notes of the State banks. His finan-
ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
cial policy, while it aroused the bitterest enmity in
some quarters, raised the United States from bank-
ruptcy to the respect of her creditors, abroad and at
home. When the old cry of " unconstitutional ! "
was heard, as it has been heard ever since when any
great matter is suggested, Hamilton taught the peo-
ple to feel that the implied powers of the Constitution
were great enough for all needs, and that the docu-
ment must be interpreted by the spirit as well as
the letter of the law. Capitalists were his strong
advocates, as they well knew that a firm and safe
financial policy was at the root of success and
progress.
Very soon after his report on banks, he trans-
mitted to Congress a report on the establishment
of a mint, showing wide research on the subject of
coinage. Besides these papers, he reported on the
purchase of West Point, on public lands, navigation
laws, on the post-office, and other matters, always
showing careful study, good judgment, and patri-
otism.
That he was accused of being a monarchist sig-
nified little, as there were hundreds of people at
that time who feared that the republic would go
down, as had others in past centuries. He so
deprecated the lack of central power in the govern-
ment that he exaggerated the dangers of the
people's rule. This lack of trust in the masses
and in the power of the Constitution, and Thomas
Jefferson's trust in self-government and belief in
States' rights, led, at last, to the bitter and public
120 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
disagreement of these two great men, the Secre-
tary of the Treasury and the Secretary of State.
Each was honest in his belief ; each was tolerant
of most men, but intolerant of the other to the
end of life.
Hamilton naturally became the leader of the
Federalists, as Jefferson the leader of the Repub-
licans, or Democrats, as they are now called. One
party saw in Hamilton the great thinker, the safe
guardian of the destinies of the people ; the other
party thought it saw a bold and unscrupulous man,
who would sit on a throne if that were possible.
Hamilton's character was assailed, sometimes with
truth, but oftener without truth. He was not
perfect, but he was great, and in most respects
noble.
The French Revolution was now interesting all
minds. Genet had been sent to America by the
French Republic, as her minister. Hamilton urged
neutrality, and looked with horror upon the growing
excesses in France. Jefferson, with his hatred of
monarchy, was lenient, and, in the early part of
the Revolution, sympathetic. The United States
became divided into two great factions, for and
against France. Genet fanned the flames till the
patient Washington could endure it no longer ; the
unwise minister was recalled, and neutrality was
proclaimed April 22, 1793.
Through all this matter, Hamilton had the com-
plete love and confidence of Washington. When
it was deemed wise to send a special commissioner
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 121
to effect a treaty with England, that proper com-
mercial relations be maintained, Hamilton was at
once suggested. Party feeling opposed, and John
Jay was appointed. When he returned from his
mission, Great Britain having consented to pay us
ten million dollars for illegal seizure of vessels,
we agreeing to pay all debts owed to her before the
Eevolutionary War, the people rose in wrath
against the treaty, and burned Jay in effigy. When
Hamilton was speaking for its adoption at a public
meeting in New York, he was assaulted by stones.
" Gentlemen," he said, coolly, " if you use such
strong arguments, I must retire." After this he
wrote essays, signed " Camillas," in defence of the
treaty, and helped largely to secure its acceptance.
Meantime, the Excise Law, whereby distilled
spirits were taxed, caused the " Whiskey Insurrec-
tion " in Pennsylvania. Hamilton, who believed in
the prompt execution of law, urged Washington to
take decisive measures. The President called out
thirteen thousand troops, and the refusal to pay
the taxes was no more heard of.
Hamilton, like Jefferson, had become weary of
his six years of public life ; his increasing family
needed more than his limited salary, and he re-
signed, returning to his law practice in the city of
New York.
When a new President was chosen to succeed
Washington, it was not the real leader of the
party, Hamilton, but one who had elicited less op-
position by strong measures — John Adams, a man
122 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
of long and distinguished service, both in England
and America. Hamilton seems to have preferred
Thomas Pinckney of South Carolina, and thus to
have gained the ill-will of Adams, which helped at
last to split the Federal party.
When Adams and Jefferson became the Presi-
dential nominees in 1800, Hamilton threw himself
heartily into the contest in the State of New York.
Here he found himself pitted against a rare antag-
onist, the most famous lawyer in the State except
himself, Aaron Burr. He was well born, being the
son of the president of the college at Princeton,
and the grandson of Jonathan Edwards. Like
Hamilton, he was precocious ; being ready to enter
Princeton when he was eleven years old. He was
short in stature, five feet and six inches in height ;
with fine black eyes, and gentle and winsome man-
ners. Both these men won the most enduring
friendships from men and women — homage indeed.
Both were intense in nature, though Burr had far
greater self-control. Both were brave to rashness ;
both were untiring students ; both loved and al-
ways gained authority. Burr had won honors in
the Revolutionary War. He had married at twenty-
six, a woman ten years older than himself, a widow
with two children, with neither wealth nor beauty,
whom he idolized for the twelve years she was
spared to him, for her rare mind and devoted affec-
tion. From her he learned to value intellect in
woman. He used to write her before marriage,
"Deal less in sentiments, and more in ideas."
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 123
When she died, he said, " The mother of my Theo
was the best woman and finest lady I have ever
known." For his only child, his beloved Theo-
dosia, he seemed to have but one wish, that she be
a scholar. He said to his wife, " If I could foresee
that Theo would become a mere fashionable woman,
with all the attendant frivolity and vacuity of
mind, adorned with whatever grace and allurement,
I would earnestly pray God to take her forthwith
hence. But I yet hope by her to convince the
world what neither sex appear to believe — that
women have souls ! "
At ten years of age, she was studying Horace
and Terence, learning the Greek grammar, speaking
French, and reading Gibbon.
This Theo, the idol of his life, afterward mar-
ried to Governor Alston of South Carolina, loved
him with a devotion that will forever make one
gleam of sunshine in a life full of shadows. When
the dark days came, she wrote him, " I witness
your extraordinary fortitude with new wonder at
every new misfortune. Often, after reflecting on
this subject, you appear to me so superior, so ele-
vated above all other men ; I contemplate you with
such a strange mixture of humility, admiration,
reverence, love, and pride, very little superstition
would be necessary to make me worship you as a
superior being ; such enthusiasm does your char-
acter excite in me. ... I had rather not live than
not be the daughter of such a man."
Burr's success in the law had been phenomenal.
124 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
When he was studying for admission to the bar, he
often passed twenty hours out of the twenty-four
over his books.
And now, Colonel Burr, at thirty-six, after being
in the United States Senate for six years, was the
candidate for Vice-President on the Jefferson ticket.
Hamilton's eloquence stirred the State of New
York in the contest; but Burr's generalship in
politics won the votes, and he was elected.
Hamilton went back again to his large law prac-
tice. Men sought him with the belief that if he
would take their cases, there was no doubt of the
result. An aged farmer came to him to recover a
farm for which a deed had been obtained from him
in exchange for Virginia laud. Hamilton heard
the case ; then wrote to the wealthy speculator to
call upon him. When he came, Hamilton said,
" You must give me back that deed. I do not say
that you knew that the title to these lands is bad ;
but it is bad. You are a rich — he is a poor man.
How can you sleep on your pillow ? Would you
break up the only support of an aged man and
seven children? " He walked the floor rapidly, as
he exclaimed, " I will add to my professional ser-
vices all the weight of my character and powers
of my nature ; and you ought to know, when I es-
pouse the cause of innocence and of the oppressed,
that character and those powers will have their
weight."
The property was reconveyed to the farmer, who
gratefully asked Hamilton to name the compensa-
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 125
tion. "Nothing! nothing!" said he. "Hasten
home and make your family happy."
Hamilton was clear in his reasoning ; a master
in constitutional law; persuasive in his manner;
sometimes highly impassioned, sometimes solemn
and earnest. Says Henry Cabot Lodge : " Force of
intellect and force of will were the sources of his
success. . . . Directness was his most distinguish-
ing characteristic, and, whether he appealed to the
head or the heart, he went straight to the mark. . . .
He never indulged in rhetorical flourishes, and his
style was simple and severe. . . . That which led
him to victory was the passionate energy of his
nature, his absorption in his work, his contagious
and persuasive enthusiasm."
" There was a fascination in his manner, by which
one was led captive unawares," says another writer.
" On most occasions, when animated with the sub-
ject on which he was engaged, you could see the
very workings of his soul, in the expression of his
countenance ; and so frank was he in manner that
he would make you feel that there was not a
thought of his heart that he would wish to hide
from your view."
" Alexander Hamilton was the greatest man this
country ever produced," said Judge Ambrose Spen-
cer. ..." He argued cases before me while I sat
as judge on the bench. Webster has done the
same. In power of reasoning Hamilton was the
equal of Webster ; and more than this can be said
of no man. In creative power Hamilton was infi-
126 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
nitely Webster's superior. . . . He, more than any
man, did the thinking of the time."
His chief relaxation from work was at "The
Grange," his summer home at Harlem Heights, not
far from the spot, it is said, where he first attracted
the eye of Washington. Beeches, maples, and
many evergreens abounded. The Hudson River
added its beauty to the picturesque place. Here
he read the classics for pleasure, and the Bible.
To a friend he said : " I have examined carefully
the evidence of the Christian religion ; and, if I
was sitting as a juror upon its authenticity, I
should unhesitatingly give my verdict in its favor.
... I can prove its truth as clearly as any propo-
sition ever submitted to the mind of man."
At "The Grange " he was especially happy with
his family. He said, " My health and comfort both
require that I should be at home — at that home
where I am always sure to find a sweet asylum
from care and pain. ... It will be more and more
my endeavor to abstract myself from all pursuits
which interfere with those of affection. 'Tis here
only I can find true pleasure."
When Hamilton was forty-four, he endured the
great affliction of his life. His eldest son, Philip,
nineteen, just graduated from Columbia College,
deeply wounded by the political attacks upon his
father, challenged to a duel one of the men who
had made objectionable remarks. The lad fell at
the first fire, a wicked sacrifice to a barbarous " code
of honor." After twenty hours of agony, he died,
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 127
surrounded by the stricken family. Hamilton was
especially proud of this son, of whom he said, when
he gave his oration at Columbia College, " I could
not have been contented to have been surpassed by
any other than my son."
For three years Hamilton worked on with a
hope which was never broken, constantly adding
to his fame. And then came the fatal error of his
life. All along he had opposed Aaron Burr. When
named for a foreign mission, Hamilton helped to de-
feat him. When the tie vote came between Jeffer-
son and Burr in the Presidential returns, Hamilton
said, " The appointment of Burr as President will
disgrace our country abroad." When Burr was
nominated for Governor of New York, Hamilton
used every effort to defeat him, and succeeded.
Burr, exasperated and disappointed at his failures,
sent Hamilton a challenge. He wrote to Hamilton,
" Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen
from the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws
of honor and the rules of decorum. I neither
claim such privilege nor indulge it in others."
Alas ! that some men in public life, even now,
forget the "laws of honor and the rules of deco-
rum " in their treatment of opponents.
Everything in Hamilton's career protested
against this suicidal combat. He was only forty-
seven, distinguished and beloved, with a wife and
seven children dependent upon him.
Before going to the fatal meeting, he wrote his
feelings about duelling. " My religious and moral
128 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
principles are strongly opposed to the practice of
duelling, and it would even give me pain to be
obliged to shed the blood of a fellow-creature in a
private combat forbidden by the laws. ... To
those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duel-
ling, may think that I ought on no account to have
added to the number of bad examples, I answer
that my relative situation, as well in public as
private, enforcing all the considerations which con-
stitute what men of the world denominate honor,
imposed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity
not to decline the call. The ability to be in future
useful, whether in resisting mischief or effecting
good, in those crises of our public affairs which
seem likely to happen, would probably be insepa-
rable from a conformity with public prejudice in
this particular."
He made his will, leaving all, after the payment
of his debts, to his "dear and excellent wife."
" Should it happen that there is not enough for the
payment of my debts, I entreat my dear children,
if they, or any of them, should ever be able, to
make up the deficiency. I, without hesitation,
commit to their delicacy a wish which is dictated
by my own. Though conscious that I have too
far sacrificed the interests of my family to public
avocations, and on this account have the less claim
to burden my children, yet I trust in their magna-
nimity to appreciate as they ought this my re-
quest. In so unfavorable an event of things, the
support of their dear mother, with the most re-
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 129
spectful and tender attention, is a duty, all the
sacredness of which they will feel. Probably her
own patrimonial resources will preserve her from
indigence. But in all situations they are charged
to bear in mind that she has been to them the
most devoted and best of mothers." And then,
the great statesman, after writing two farewell
letters to " my darling, darling wife," conformed to
"public prejudice" by hastening with his second,
at daybreak, to meet Aaron Burr, at Weehawken,
two miles and a half above Hoboken. It was a
quiet and beautiful spot, one hundred and fifty
feet above the level of the Hudson River, shut
in by trees and vines, but golden with sunlight on
that fatal morning.
At seven o'clock the two distinguished men were
ready, ten paces apart, to take into their own
hands that most sacred of all things, human life.
There was no outward sign of emotion, though the
one must have thought of his idol, Theodosia, and
the other of his pretty children, still asleep. Ham-
ilton had determined not to fire, and so permitted
himself to be sacrificed. The word of readiness
was given. Burr raised his pistol and fired, and
Hamilton fell headlong 011 his face, his own weapon
discharging in the air. He sank into the arms of
his physician, saying faintly, "This is a mortal
wound," and was borne home to a family over-
whelmed with sorrow. The oldest daughter lost
her reason.
For thirty-one hours he lay in agony, talking,
130 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
when able, with his minister about the coming
future, asking that the sacrament be administered,
and saying, " I am a sinner. I look to Him for
mercy ; pray for me."
Once when all his children were gathered around
the bed, he gave them one tender look, and closed
his eyes till they had left the room. He retained
his usual composure to the last, saying to his Avife,
frenzied with grief, "Kemember, my Eliza, you
are a Christian." He died at two o'clock on the
afternoon of July 12, 1804. The whole nation
seemed speechless with sorrow. In New York all
business was suspended. At the funeral, a great
concourse of people, college societies, political asso-
ciations, and military companies, joined in the
common sorrow. Guns were fired from the British
and French ships in the harbor ; on a platform in
front of Trinity Church, Governor Morris pro-
nounced a eulogy, General Hamilton's four sons,
the eldest sixteen and the youngest four, standing
beside the speaker. Thus the great life faded
from sight in its vigorous manhood, leaving a won-
derful record for the aspiring and the patriotic,
and a prophecy of what might have been accom-
plished but for that one fatal mistake.
Aaron Burr hastened to the South, to avoid
arrest; but public execration followed him. He
became implicated in a scheme for putting himself
at the head of Mexico, was arrested and tried for
treason, and, though legally acquitted, Avas obliged
to flee to England, and from there to Sweden and
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 131
Germany. Finally he came home, only to hear
that Theodosia's beautiful boy of eleven was dead.
Poor and friendless, he longed now for the one
person who had never forsaken him, his daughter.
She started from Charleston in a pilot-boat, for
New York, and was never heard from afterwards.
Probably all went down in a storm off Cape Hat-
teras. When it was reported in the papers that
the boat had been captured by pirates, Burr said,
"No, no, she is indeed dead. Were she alive, all
the prisons in the world could not keep her from
her father. When I realized the truth of her
death, the world became a blank to me, and life
had then lost all its value."
W'hen he was nearly eighty, he married a lady
of wealth ; but they were unhappy, and soon sepa-
rated. He died on Staten Island, cared for at the
last by the children of an old friend. His courage
and fortitude the world will always admire ; but it
can never forget the fatal duel by which Alexander
Hamilton was taken from his country, in the prime
of his life and in the midst of his great work.
The name of Hamilton will not be forgotten.
The Hon. Chauncey M. Depew of New York, on
February 22, 1888, gave the great statesman this
well deserved tribute of praise : —
" The political mission of the United States has so far
been wrought out by individuals and territorial conditions.
Four men of unequal genius have dominated our century,
and the growth of the West has revolutionized the republic.
The principles which have heretofore controlled the policy
132 ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
of the country have mainly owed their force and acceptance
to Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster, and Lincoln.
" The first question which met the young confederacy was
the necessity of a central power strong enough to deal with
foreign nations and to protect commerce between the
States. At this period Alexander Hamilton became the
savior of the republic. If Shakespeare is the commanding
originating genius of England, and Goethe of Germany,
Hamilton must occupy that place among Americans. This
superb intelligence, which was at once philosophic and
practical, and with unrivalled lucidity could instruct the
dullest mind on the bearing of the action of the present on
the destiny of the future, so impressed upon his contempo-
raries the necessity of a central government with large
powers that the Constitution, now one hundred and one
years old, was adopted, and the United States began their
life as a nation."
ANDREW JACKSON.
EORGE BANCROFT said, "No man in pri-
&te life so possessed the hearts of all around
him ; no public man of the country ever returned
to private life with such an abiding mastery over
the affections of the people. . . . He was as sincere
a man as ever lived. He was wholly, always, and
altogether sincere and true. Up to the last he
dared do anything that it was right to do. He
united personal courage and moral courage beyond
any man of whom history keeps the record. . . .
Jackson never was vanquished. He was always
fortunate. He conquered the wilderness ; he con-
quered the savage ; he conquered the veterans of
the battle-field of Europe ; he conquered every-
where in statesmanship ; and when death came to
get the mastery over him, he turned that last
enemy aside as tranquilly as he had done the fee-
blest of his adversaries, and passed from earth in
the triumphant consciousness of immortality."
Thus wrote Bancroft of the man who rose from
poverty and sorrow to receive the highest gift
which the American nation can bestow. The gift
did not come through chance ; it came because the
133
134 ANDREW JACKSON.
man was worthy of it, and had earned the love and
honor of the people.
In 1765, among many other emigrants, a man,
with his wife and two sons, came to the new world
from the north of Ireland. They were linen-
weavers, poor, but industrious, and members of the
Presbyterian Church. They settled at Waxhaw,
North Carolina, not far from the South Carolina
boundary, and the husband began to build a log
house for his dear ones. This man was the father
of Andrew Jackson.
Scarcely had the log house been built, and a sin-
gle crop raised, l>efore the wife was left a widow
and the children fatherless. There was a quiet
funeral, a half-dozen friends standing around an
open grave, and then the little house passed into
other hands, and Mrs. Jackson went to live at the
home of her brother-in-law.
Not long after the funeral, a third son was born,
March 15, 1767, whom the stricken mother named
Andrew Jackson, after his father. He was wel-
comed in tears, and naturally became the idol of
her young heart. Three weeks later, she moved to
the house of another brother-in-law to assist in his
family. She was not afraid to work, and she bent
herself to the hard labor of pioneer life. There
was no sorrow in the labor, for was she not doing
it for her sons, and a noble woman knows no hard-
ship in her self-sacrifice for love.
Her ambition seems to have centred in the
slight, light-haired, blue-eyed Andrew, who, she
ANDREW JACKSON. 135
hoped, one day might become a Presbyterian minis-
ter. How he was to obtain a college education,
perhaps, she did not discern, but she trusted, and
trust is a divine thing.
The barefooted boy attended a school kept by
Dr. Waddell. He made commendable progress in
his studies, from his quick and ardent temperament,
but he loved fun even better than books. He was
impulsive, ambitious, and persevering. He could
run foot-races as rapidly as the bigger boys, and
loved to wrestle or engage in anything which
seemed like a battle. Says an old schoolmate, " I
could throw him three times out of four, but he
would never stay throived. He was dead game,
even then, and never would give up."
To the younger boys he was a protector, but from
the older he would brook no insult, and was some-
times hasty and overbearing. One of the best
traits in the boy's character was his love for his
mother. His intense nature knew no change, and
he was loyal and single of purpose forever. He
used to say in later life, " One of the last injunc-
tions given me by my mother was never to insti-
tute a suit for assault and battery or for defama-
tion ; never to wound the feelings of others nor
suffer my own to be outraged : these were her
words of admonition to me ; I remember them well,
and have never failed to respect them ; my settled
course through life has been to bear them in mind,
and never to insult or wantonly to assail the feel-
ings of any one ; and yet many conceive me to be
136 ANDEE\V JACKSON.
a most ferocious animal, insensible to moral duty
and regardless of the laws both of God and man."
He did nothing slowly nor indifferently. He
bent his will to his work, even at that early age,
and knew no such word as failure. When the boy
was thirteen, an incident occurred which made a
lasting impression. The British General Tarlton,
in the Revolutionary War, with three hundred cav-
alry, came against Waxhaw, surprised the militia,
killing one hundred and thirteen and wounding
one hundred and fifty. The little settlement was
terrorized. The meeting-house became a hospital,
and Mrs. Jackson, with her sons, helped to minister
to the wants of the suffering soldiers. Andrew
learned not only lessons in war, but to dream of
future rewards to the British.
When Cornwallis, after the surrender of General
Gates, moved his whole army toward Waxhaw,
Mrs. Jackson and her sons were obliged to seek a
safe retreat with a distant relative. Here Andrew
did " chores " for his board. " Never," said one
who knew him well at this time, "did Andrew
come home from the shops without bringing with
him some new weapon with which to kill the
enemy. Sometimes it was a rude spear, which he
would forge while waiting for the blacksmith to
finish his job. Sometimes it was a club or a toma-
hawk. Once he fastened the blade of a scj'the to a
pole, and, on reaching home, began to cut down the
weeds with it that grew about the house, assailing
them with extreme fury, and occasionally uttering
ANDREW JACKSON. 137
words like these, ' Oh, if I were a man, how I
would sweep down the British with my grass
blade!'"
A year later, when Mrs. Jackson had returned to
Waxhaw, the brothers were both taken prisoners in
a skirmish. Being commanded to clean the boots
of a British officer, Andrew refused, saying, " Sir,
I am a prisoner of war, and claim to be treated as
such."
The angry Englishman drew his sword, and
rushed at the boy, who, attempting to defend him-
self from the blow, received a deep gash in his left
hand, and also on his head, the scars of which he
bore through life. Eobert, the brother, also re-
fused to clean the boots, and was prostrated by the
sword of the brutal officer. Soon after, the boys
were taken with other prisoners to Camden, eighty
miles distant, a long and agonizing journey for
wounded men.
They found the prison a wretched place, with no
medical supplies ; the food scanty, and small-pox
raging among the inmates. The poor mother, hear-
ing of their forlorn condition, hastened to the
place. Both her boys were ill of the dreaded
small-pox, and both suffering from their sword-
wounds. She arranged for the exchange of pris-
oners, and took her sons home ; Robert to die in
her arms two days later, and Andrew to be saved
at last after a perilous illness of several months.
Her oldest son, Hugh, had already given his life to
his country in the war.
1:',S ANDREW JACKSON.
Almost broken-hearted with the loss of her two
sons, yet intensely patriotic, she hastened to the
Charleston prison-ships, to care for the wounded,
taking with her provisions and medicine sent by
loving wives and daughters. The blessed ministra-
tions proved of short duration. Mrs. Jackson was
taken ill of ship-fever, died after a brief illness,
and was buried in the open plain near by. The
grave is unmarked and unknown. When, years
later, her illustrious son had become President, he
tried to find the burial-place of the woman he idol-
ized, but it was impossible.
Andrew was now an orphan, and poor ; but he
had what makes any boy or man rich, the memory
of a devoted, heroic mother. Such a person has
an inspiration that is like martial music on the
field of battle ; he is urged onward to duty forever-
more. The world is richer for all such instances
of ideal womanhood; the womanhood that gives
rather than receives ; that seeks neither admira-
tion nor self-aggrandizement ; that, like the flowers,
sends out the same fragrance whether in royal
gardens or beside the peasant's door; that lives to
lighten others' sorrows, to rest tired humanity, to
sweeten the bitterness of life by her loveliness
of soul ; that is to the world around her
" A new and certain sunrise every day."
Fatherless, motherless, brotherless, the boy of
fifteen looked about him to see what his life-work
should be. In the family of a distant relative he
ANDREW JACKSON. 139
found a home. The son was a saddler. For six
months Andrew worked at this trade. But other
plans were in his mind. He knew how his mother
had desired that he might be educated. But how
could a boy win his way without money ? For two
years or more, little is known of him. It is be-
lieved that he taught a small school. When nearly
eighteen, he had made up his mind to study law,
a somewhat remarkable decision for a boy in his
circumstances.
If he studied at all, it should be under the best
of teachers ; so he rode to Salisbury, seventy -five
miles from Waxhaw, and entered the office of Mr.
Spruce McCay, an eminent lawyer, and later a
judge of distinction.
For nearly two years he studied, enjoying also
the sports of the time, and making, as he did all
through life, close friends who were devoted to his
interests. When in the White House, forty-five
years afterward, he said, " I was but a raw lad
then, but I did my best." And he did his best
through life !
He loved a fine horse almost as though it were
human ; he enjoyed the society of ladies, and pos-
sessed a grace and dignity of manner that sur-
prised those who knew the hardships of his life.
His eager intelligence, his quick, direct glance, that
bespoke alertness of mind, won him attention, even
more than would beauty of person. Over six feet
in height, slender to delicacy, he gave the impres-
sion of leadership, from his bravery and self-reli-
140 ANDREW JACKSON.
ance. Emerson well says, " The basis of good
manners is self-reliance. . . . Self-trust is the first
secret of success ; the belief that, if you are here,
the authorities of the universe put you here, and
for cause or with some task strictly appointed you
in your constitution."
When his two years of law-study were ended, the
work was but just begun. There was reputation to
be made, and perhaps a fortune, but where and
how ? For a year he seems not to have found a
law opening ; the streams of fortune do not always
flow toward us — we have to make the journey by
persistent and hard rowing against the tide. He
probably worked in a store owned by some ac-
quaintances, earning for daily needs.
At twenty -one came his first opportunity ; came,
as it often comes, through a friend. Mr. John Mc-
Nairy was appointed a judge of the Superior Court
of the Western District of North Carolina (Tennes-
see), and young Jackson, his friend, public prosecu-
tor of the same district. He moved to Nashville
in 1788, to begin his difficult work. He was
obliged to ride on horseback over the mountains
and through the wilderness, often among hostile
Indians, his life almost constantly in danger.
Once, while travelling with a party of emigrants,
when all slept save the sentinels, he sat against a
tree, smoking his corn-cob pipe and keeping an
eager watch. Soon he heard the notes of what
seemed to be various owls ! He quietly roused the
whole party and moved them on. An hour later,
ANDREW JACKSON. 141
a company of hunters lay down by the fires which
Jackson had left, and before daylight all save one
man were killed by the Indians.
Sometimes the young lawyer slept for twenty
successive nights in the wilderness. This was no
life of ease and luxury. At Nashville he found
lodgings in the house of the widow of Colonel
John Donelson, a brave pioneer from Virginia, who
had been killed by the Indians. And here Jack-
son met the woman who was to prove his good
angel as long as she lived.' With Mrs. Donelson
lived her dark-haired and dark-eyed daughter
Rachel, married to Lewis Robards from Kentucky.
Vivacious, kindly, and sympathetic, Rachel had
been the idol of her father, and probably would
have been of her husband had it not been for his
jealous disposition. He became angry at Jackson,
as he had been at others, and made her life so un-
happy that she separated from him and went to
friends in Natchez, with the approval of her
mother, and the entire confidence and respect of
her husband's relatives.
After a divorce in 1791, Jackson married her,
when they were each twenty-four years old. His-
tory does not record a happier marriage. To the
last, she lived for him alone, but not more fully
than he lived for her. With the world he was
thought to be domineering and harsh, and was often
profane ; but with her he was patient, gentle, and
deferential. When he won renown, she was happy
for his sake, but she did not care for it for herself.
142 ANDShlV JACKSON.
Her kindness of heart took her among the sick and
the unfortunate, and everywhere she was a wel-
come comforter. She lived outside of self, and
found her reward in the homage of her husband
and her friends.
Jackson soon began to prosper financially.
Often he would receive his' fee in lands, a square
mile of six hundred and forty acres or more, so
that after a time he was the possessor of several
thousand acres. Success came also from other
sources. When a convention was called to form a
constitution for the new State of Tennessee, Jack-
son was chosen a delegate. He took an active
part in the organization of the State — he was
active in whatever he engaged — and bravely-
espoused her claims against the general govern-
ment for expenses incurred in Indian conflicts.
Tennessee felt that she had a true friend in Jack-
son, and, when she wanted a man to represent her
in Congress, she sent him to the House of Repre-
sentatives. This honor came at twenty-nine years
of age — a strange contrast to the years when he
made saddles or did "chores" for his board, and
longed to " sweep down the British with his grass
blade."
Jackson served his State well by securing com-
pensation for every man who had done service or
lost his property in the Indian wars. It was not
strange, therefore, that, when a vacancy occurred
in the United States Senate, Jackson was chosen
to fill the place, in the autumn of 1797. Only
ANDREW JACKSON. 143
thirty years old ! Kachel Jackson might well be
proud of him.
But the following year he resigned his position,
glad to be, as he supposed, out of official life. He
was, however, too prominent to be allowed to
remain in private life, and was elected to a
judgeship of the Supreme Court of Tennessee.
As he had made it a rule " never to seek and never
to decline public duty," he accepted, on the small
salary of six hundred dollars a year. While many
other men in the State were more learned in the
law than Jackson, yet the people believed in his
honesty and integrity, and therefore he was
chosen. Quick to decide and slow to change his
mind, in fifteen days he had disposed of fifty cases,
says James Parton, in his entertaining life of
Andrew Jackson.
After six years, longing for a more active life,
Jackson resigned, and was made major-general of
the militia of the State. This position was given,
not without opposition, he receiving only one more
vote than his chief competitor. That one vote,
perhaps, led to New Orleans and the Presidency.
This office was in accordance with his natural
tastes. Since boyhood, he had loved the stir and
command of battle, and believed he should like to
conquer an enemy as he had met and conquered
every obstacle that lay athwart his path.
As there was no war in progress, he continued
his law practice. But, not satisfied with this
alone, he became a merchant, trading with the
144 ANDREW JACKSON.
Indians, selling blankets, hardware, and the like,
and receiving in return cotton and other produce
of the country. In the panic of 1798, he became
financially embarrassed, but, true to his manly
nature, he worked steadily on till every dollar was
paid. He sold twenty -five thousand . acres of his
wild land, sold his home, and moved into a log
house at the Hermitage, seven miles out from
Nashville, and preserved for himself the best
thing on earth, a good name. So honest was he
believed to be, when a Tennessean went to Bos-
ton bankers for a loan, with several leading names
on his paper, they said, "Do you know General
Jackson ? Could you get his endorsement ? "
" Yes, but he is not worth a tenth as much as
either of these men whose names I offer you,"
was the response.
" No matter ; General Jackson has always pro-
tected himself and his paper, and we'll let you
have the money on the strength of his name."
And the loan was granted.
Honest and just though he was, he permitted
his own fiery nature, or a perverted public opinion,
to lead him into acts which tarnished his whole
subsequent career. Quick to resent a wrong, he
was morbidly sensitive about the circumstances of
his marriage with Rachel Robards. When they
were married, in 1791, they supposed that the
divorce, applied for. had been granted, but they
learned in 1793, two years afterward, that it was
not legally obtained till the latter . date. They
ANDREW JACKSON. 145
were at once remarried, but the matter caused
much idle talk, and, as General Jackson came
into prominence, his enemies were not slow to
rehearse the story. The slightest aspersion of his
wife's character aroused all the anger of his
nature, and, says Parton, " For the man who dared
breathe her name except in honor, he kept pistols
in perfect condition for thirty-seven years." And,
as duelling was the disgraceful fashion of the
times, Jackson did not hesitate to use his pistols.
In 1806, when he was thirty-nine, one of those
miscalled "affairs of honor" took place. Charles
Dickinson, a prominent man of the State, in the
course of a long quarrel, had spoken disparagingly
of Mrs. Jackson, and he was therefore challenged
to mortal combat. Thursday morning, May 29, he
kissed his young wife tenderly, telling her he was
going to Kentucky, and " would be home, sure, to-
morrow night." He met Jackson on the banks of
the Ked River. The one was tall, erect, and in-
tense ; the other young, handsome, an expert marks-
man, and determined to make no mistake in his
fatal work.
Dickinson fired with his supposed unerring aim,
and missed ! The bullet grazed Jackson's breast,
and years later was the true cause of his death.
Jackson took deliberate aim, intending to kill his
opponent, and succeeded. The ball passed quite
through Dickinson's body. His wife was sent for,
being told that he was dangerously wounded. On
her way thither she met, in a rough emigrant wagon,
146 ANDREW JACKSON.
the body of her husband. He had "come home,
sure, to-morrow night " — but dead ! He was deeply
mourned by the State, which sympathized with his
wife and infant child. General Jackson made bit-
ter enemies by this act. Rachel had been avenged,
but at what a fearful cost !
Eighteen years had gone by since Jackson's mar-
riage. He had received distinguished honors ; he
had been a Representative, a Senator, a Judge of
the Supreme Court of the State, a Major-General
of the militia, but one joy was wanting. Xo chil-
dren had been born in the home. Mrs. Jackson's
nephews and nieces were often at the Hermitage,
and he made her kindred his own ; but both loved
children, and this one blessing was denied them.
In 1809, twins were born to Mrs. Jackson's brother.
One of these, when but a few days old, was taken
to the Hermitage, and the general adopted him,
giving him his own name, Andrew Jackson.
Ever after, this child was a comfort and a de-
light. Visitors would often find the general read-
ing, with the boy in the rocking-chair beside him
or in his lap. Hon. Thomas H. Benton, in his
" Thirty Years' View," tells this story : " I arrived
at his house one wet, chilly evening in February,
and came upon him in the twilight, sitting alone
before the fire, a lamb and a child between his
knees. He started a little, called a servant to re-
move the two innocents to another room, and ex-
plained to me how it was. The child had cried
because the lamb was out in the cold, and begged
ANDREW JACKSON. 147
him to bring it in, which he had done to please the
child, his adopted son, then not two years old.
The ferocious man does not do that ! and though
Jackson had his passions and his violence, they
were for men and enemies — those who stood up
against him — and not for women and children,
or the weak and helpless ; for all whom his feelings
were those of protection and support."
Jackson was always the friend of young men —
a constant inspiration to them to do their best.
He knew the possibilities of a barefooted boy like
himself. The world owes thanks to those who are
its inspiration ; whose minds develop ours ; whose
sweetness of nature makes us grow lovable, as plants
grow in the sunshine ; whose ideals become our
ideals ; who lead us up the mountains of faith and
trust and hope, but the cord is silken and we never
know that we are led ; who go through life loving
and serving — for love is service ; who are our
comfort and strength — we lean on those whom we
love.
While Jackson was the friend of young men,
especially he was loyal to any who were near his
heart. He was like another great man, in a great
war, the hero of 1812 and the hero of 1861. Jack-
son and Grant were true to those who had been
true to them. Only a man of small soul forgets
the ladder by which he climbs.
The second war with Great Britain had come
upon the American people, June 19, 1812. Our
country had suffered in its commerce through the
148 ANDREW JACKSON.
continued wars of England with France. Vessels
had been searched by the English, to find persons
suspected of being British subjects ; often Ameri-
can seamen were impressed into their service. On
the ocean, the contest between English and Ameri-
can ships became almost constant. While a por-
tion of the States were not in favor of the war, one
person was surely in favor, and ready for it ; one
who had not forgotten the deaths of his mother
and brothers in the Revolutionary War ; who had
not forgotten the wounds on his head and hand.
That person was General Jackson.
He at.once offered to the Governor of Louisiana,
for the defence of New Orleans, three thousand
soldiers. The offer was accepted, and he started
for Natchez, there to await orders. The men were
7
in the best of spirits, kept hopeful and enthusiastic
by the ardor of their commander, who said to them :
"Perish our friends — perish our wives — perish
our children (the dearest pledges of Heaven) —
nay, perish all earthly considerations — but let the
honor and fame of a volunteer soldier be untar-
nished and immaculate. We now enjoy liberties,
political, civil, and religious, that no other nation
on earth possesses. May we never survive them !
No, rather let us perish in maintaining them. And
if we must yield, where is the man that would not
prefer being buried in the ruins of his country than
live the ignominious slave of haughty lords and
unfeeling tyrants ? "
After a time the " orders " came, but what was
ANDREW JACKSON. 149
the astonishment and indignation of both officers
and men to hear that their services were not needed,
as the British evidently did not intend to attack
New Orleans ; that they were to disband and return
to Tennessee. Without pay or rations, five hun-
dred miles from home ! — Jackson felt that it was
an insult. He took an oath that they should never
disband till they were at their own doors ; that he
would conduct his brave three thousand through
the wilderness and the Indian tribes, and be re-
sponsible for expenses. One hundred and fifty of
his men were ill. He put those who could ride on
horses, and then, walking at their head, led the
gallant company toward home.
The soldiers used to say that he was " tough as
hickory ; " then " Old Hickory " grew to be a term
of endearment, which he bore ever afterward. A
month later, and the disappointed soldiers were
at Nashville. Before they disbanded, they were
marched out upon the public square, and received
a superb stand of colors. The needle-work was on
white satin ; eighteen orange stars in a crescent,
with two sprigs of laurel, and the words, " Tennes-
see Volunteers — Independence, in a state of war,
is to be maintained on the battle-ground of the
Republic. The tented field is the post of honor.
Presented by the ladies of East Tennessee." Under
these words were all the implements of war ; can-
nons, muskets, drums, swords, and the like. Jack-
son and his men never forgot this offering of love,
and showed themselves worthy of it in after years.
150 ANDREW JACKSON.
If Jackson was not needed at New Orleans, he
was soon needed elsewhere. Tecumseh, the great
Indian chief, saw the lands of his fathers passing
into the hands of the white men. He had long
been uniting the western tribes from Florida to
the northern lakes, and, now that we were at war
with England, he believed the hour of their deliv-
ery was come. He at once incited the Creeks of
Alabama to arms.
In the southern portion of that State, forty miles
north of Mobile, stood Fort Minis. The whites
had become alarmed at the hostile attitude of the
Indians, and over five hundred men, women, and
children had crowded into the fort for safety.
On the 30th of August, 1813, a thousand Creek
warriors in their war paint and feathers, uttering
their terrible war-whoops, rushed into the fort,
tomahawked the men and women, and trampled
the children into the dust. The buildings were
burned, and the plain was covered with dead
bodies. The massacre at Fort Mims blanched
every face and embittered every heart. The Ten-
nesseans offered at once to march against the
Creeks. The hot-headed General Jackson had been
wounded in a quarrel with Thomas H. Benton,
and was suffering from the ball in his shoulder,
which he carried there for twenty years. But he
put his left arm into a sling, and, though emaciated
through long weeks of illness, he led his twenty-
five hundred men into the Indians' country.
The provisions did not follow them as had
ANDREW JACKSON. 151
been arranged. Jackson wrote home earnestly for
money and food. He said, " There is an enemy
whom I dread much more than I do the hostile
Creeks, and whose power, I am fearful, I shall
first be made to feel — I mean the meagre monster,
FAMINE." And yet he encouraged his men with
these brave words : " Shall an enemy wholly
unacquainted with military evolution, and who
rely more for victory on their grim visages and
hideous yells than upon their bravery or their
weapons — shall such an enemy ever drive before
them the well trained youths of our country,
whose bosoms pant for glory and a desire to
avenge the wrongs they have received ? Your
general will not live to behold such a spectacle ;
rather would he rush into the thickest of the
enemy, and submit himself to their scalping-
knives. . . . With his soldiers he Avill face all
dangers, and with them participate in the glory
of conquest."
The first battle with the Creeks was fought
under General John Coffee at Talluschatches, thir-
teen miles from Jackson's camp, the friendly
Creeks leading the way, wearing white feathers
and white deer's-tails to distinguish them from
the hostile tribes. The whites, maddened by the
memory of Fort Mims, fought like tigers ; the
Indians, sullen and revengeful at the prospect of
losing their homes and their hunting-grounds,
neither asked nor gave quarter, and fought hero-
ically. Nearly the whole town perished.
152 ANDREW JACKSON.
On the battle-field was found a dead mother
with her arms clasped about a living child. The
babe was brought into camp, and Jackson asked
some of the Indian women to care for it. " No ! "
said they, "all his relations are dead; kill him
too." The baby was cared for at General Jack-
son's expense till the campaign was over, and
then carried to the Hermitage, where he grew to
young manhood as a petted son. The general and
his wife gave him the name of Lincoyer. In his
seventeenth year he died of consumption, sincerely
mourned by his devoted friends.
Following the battle of Talluschatches, Gen-
eral Jackson moved against Talladega, and, after
a bloody conflict, rescued one hundred and fifty
friendly Creeks. Returning to camp, he found
starvation staring him in the face. The men were
becoming desperate ; yet he kept his cheerfulness,
dividing with them the last crust. One morning a
gaunt, hungry-looking soldier approached General
Jackson as he was sitting under a tree, eating, and
asked for some food, saying that he was nearly
starving.
" It has been a rule with me," said the general,
" never to turn away a hungry man, when it is in
my power to relieve him, and I will most cheer-
fully divide with you what I have." Putting his
hand in his pocket, he drew forth a few acorns.
" This is the best and only fare I have," he said,
and the soldier was comforted.
Many of the men had enlisted for three months
ANDREW JACKSON. 153
only, and were impatient to return home. Finally,
the militia determined to return with or without
the general's consent. Jackson heard of their in-
tention, and at once ordered the volunteers to de-
tain them, peaceably if they could, forcibly if they
must. Then the volunteers, in turn, attempted to
go back, but were met by Jackson's firm resolve to
shoot the first man who took a step toward home.
" I cannot," he said, " must not believe that the
'Volunteers of Tennessee,' a name ever dear to
fame, will disgrace themselves, and a country
which they have honored, by abandoning her
standard, as mutineers and deserters ; but should
I be disappointed, and compelled to resign this
pleasing hope, one thing I will not resign — my
duty. Mutiny and sedition, so long as I possess
the power of quelling them, shall be put down ;
and even when left destitute of this, I will still
be found in the last extremity endeavoring to
discharge the duty I owe my country and my-
self." That one word, " duty," was the key-note
of Jackson's life. It was his religion — it was
his philosophy.
With all Jackson's kindness to his men, they
knew that he could be severe. John Woods, a boy
not eighteen, the support of aged parents, was shot
for refusing to obey a superior officer. That he
could have been spared seems probable, but Jack-
son taught hard lessons to his undisciplined troops,
and sometimes in a harsh manner.
In seven months the Creeks had been utterly
164 ANDREW JACKSON.
routed; half their warriors were dead, and the
rest were broken in spirit. Weathersford, their
most heroic chief, the leader at the Fort Minis
massacre, sought General Jackson at his camp.
" How dare you," said Jackson, " ride up to my
tent, after having murdered the women and chil-
dren at Fort Minis ? "
" General Jackson, I am not afraid of you,"
was the reply. " I fear no man, for I am a Creek
warrior. I have nothing to request in behalf of
myself. You can kill me, if you desire. But I
come to beg you to send for the women and chil-
dren of the war party, who are now starving in the
woods. Their fields and cribs have been destroyed
by your people, who have driven them to the
woods without an ear of corn. I hope that you
will send out parties, who will conduct them safely
here, in order that they may be fed. I exerted
myself in vain to prevent the massacre of the
women and children at Fort Minis. I am now
done fighting. The Red Sticks are nearly all
killed. If I could fight you any longer, I would
most heartily do so. Send for the women and
children. They never did you any harm. But
kill me, if the white people want it done."
"Kill him! kill him!" shouted several voices.
"Silence!" exclaimed Jackson. "Any man
who would kill as brave a man as this would rob
the dead ! "
Weathersford's request was granted, and the
women and children of the war party were pro-
ANDREW JACKSON. 155
vided for. The chief died many years afterward,
a planter in Alabama, respected by the Americans
for his bravery and his honor.
The Creek war over, Jackson went back to
Tennessee, a noted, successful soldier. He had
not only conquered the Creeks, but he had won
for himself the position of major-general in the
United States army, having in charge the depart-
ment of the South. He was now forty-seven, and
had indeed reached a high position. Mississippi
voted him a sword, and other States sent testi-
monials of appreciation. All this time he was a
constant sufferer in body, and only kept himself
from his bed by his indomitable will. The Her-
mitage could not long keep the ardent, tireless
general from the front. He soon established his
headquarters at Mobile, and prepared to defend a
thousand miles of coast from the British. He had
but a small army at his command, and was far
from Washington, with scarcely any means of
communication. Indeed, the English had cap-
tured that city already, and burned most of its
public buildings.
The English had attacked Mobile Point, been
defeated, and retired to Pensacola, Florida. Spain
owned Florida, and was supposed to be neutral,
but she was in reality friendly and helpful to
England, and allowed her to use the State as a base
of operations. Jackson wrote to Washington ask-
ing leave to attack Pensacola. The answer did
not come back till the war of 1812 was over and
156 ANDREW JACKSON.
Jackson had won renown for himself and his coun-
try. He did not wait for an answer, however, but
stormed Pensacola, captured it, and then hastened
to New Orleans, where he expected the next attack
would be made. He used to say to young men,
"Always take all the time to reflect that circum-
stances will permit; but when the time for action
has come, stop thinking." And at Pensacola he
stopped thinking, and acted. Nothing was ready
for his coming, but all eyes turned to the con-
querer of the Creeks as the savior of New Orleans.
Women gathered around him and looked trust-
ingly toward the erect, self-centred, bronzed sol-
dier. Men flocked willingly to his service, glad to
do his bidding. He summoned the engineers of
the city and ordered every bayou to be obstructed
by earth and sunken logs. The city was put
under martial law. No person was permitted to
leave the place without a written permit signed by
the general or one of his staff. The street lamps
were extinguished at nine o'clock, after which
hour any person without the necessary permit or
not having the countersign was apprehended as a
spy and held for examination. All able-bodied
men, black and white, were compelled to serve as
soldiers or sailors.
He had with him about two thousand troops,
and four thousand more within ten or fifteen days'
march. Against these, for the most part undis-
ciplined troops, a British force of twenty thousand
men was coming, with a fleet of fifty ships, carry-
ANDltEW JACKSON. 157
ing a thousand guns. Much of this army had
served under the great Wellington in France;
its present leader, General Packenham, was Well-
ington's brother-in-law. He was only thirty -eight,
brave, and the idol of his men. Some of the
ships had been with Nelson in the battle of the
Nile. The flower of England's army and navy had
been sent to conquer the independent and self-
reliant Americans.
So certain were the British of conquest that
several families were with the fleet, husbands and
brothers having been appointed already to civil
offices. Another person was also confident of vic-
tory— the man who had seen but fourteen months
of service, but who from boyhood had never known
what it was to be defeated. He inspired others
with the same confidence. Says Latour, in his
history of the Avar in West Florida and Louisiana,
" The energy manifested by General Jackson
spread, as it were, by contagion, and communicated
itself to the whole army. There was nothing
which those who composed it did not feel them-
selves capable of performing, if he ordered it to
be done. It was enough that he expressed a wish
or threw out the slightest intimation, and immedi-
ately a crowd of volunteers offered themselves to
carry his views into execution."
The English fleet entered Lake Borgne, sixty
miles north-east from New Orleans, on December
10, 1814. Twelve days later they had reached the
Mississippi Kiver, nine miles below the city. The
158 .\\DiiKn' JACK toy.
next day, when Jackson was informed of their
approach, he said, bringing his clenched fist down
upon the table, " By the Eternal, they shall not
sleep on our soil ! ''
At once, with, as Parton says, that " calm im-
petuosity and that composed intensity which be-
longed to him/' he sent word to the various regi-
ments to meet him at three o'clock at a specified
place. And then he lay down and slept for a short
time, his only rest during the next three days and
three nights. Few men except General Jackson,
with his iron will, could have slept at such a time.
A messenger came, sent by some ladies, asking
what they should do if the city were attacked.
" Say to them not to be uneasy. No British sol-
dier shall enter the city as an enemy, unless over
1113- dead body," and he kept his word.
At three o'clock the men were hastening on to
meet the '< red-coats." Twilight came early, and
the moon rose dimly over the battle-field. The sig-
nal of attack was to be a shot fired from the ship
Carolina. At half-past seven, the first gun was
heard, then seven others, and the word was given
— FORWARD.
And forward they went, with quick steps and
eager hearts. A tremendous fire opened upon our
artillery -men. The horses attached to the cannon
became unmanageable, and one of the pieces was
turned over into the ditch. Jackson dashed into
the midst of the fray, exclaiming, u Save the
guns, my boys, at every sacrifice," and the guns
ANDREW JACKSOX. 159
were saved. Men fought hand to hand in the
smoke and the darkness ; the British using their
bayonets, and the Americans their long hunting-
knives. Prisoners were taken and retaken. Till
ten o'clock the battle raged ; when our men fell
back upon the Koderiguez canal, to wait till the
morning sun should show where to begin the deadly
work. When the morning came, the battle-field
presented a ghastly appearance. Says a British
officer concerning the American dead, " Their hair,
eyebrows, and lashes were thickly covered with
hoar-frost, or rime, their bloodless cheeks vying
Avith its whiteness. Few were dressed in military
uniforms, and most of them bore the appearance of
farmers or husbandmen. Peace to their ashes !
they had nobly died in defending their country."
The Roderiguez canal was now strongly fortified.
Spades, crowbars, and wheelbarrows had been sent
from the city. The canal was deepened and the
earth thrown up on the side. Fences were torn
away, and rails driven down to keep the sand from
falling back into the canal. The line of defence, a
mile long, was four or five feet high in some places.
Cotton bales from a neighboring ship were used.
"Here," said Jackson, " we will plant our stakes,
and not abandon them until we drive these ' red-
coat ' rascals into the river or the swamp."
While these busy preparations were going on,
food was brought to General Jackson, which he ate
ill the saddle. Christmas day came. The English
Admiral Cochrane had said, " I shall eat my Christ-
160 AKDKE\V JACKSON.
mas dinner in New Orleans." General Jackson
heard of it, and remarked, " Perhaps so ; but I
shall have the honor of presiding at that diniu-r."
The Americans were ready, but the British did
not make the expected attack. Every man was at
his post. When an officer, the son of one of Jack-
son's best friends, said to him, " May I go to town
to-day ?" the reply was, "Of course, Captain Liv-
ingston, you may go; but ought you to go ? *' The
young man blushed, bowed, and returned to duty.
Meantime, the British were not idle. They had
determined to silence the guns of the American
ships, and, with great toil, had brought up into the
swampy ground nine field-pieces, two howitzers, one
mortar, a furnace for heating balls, and the neces-
sary ammunition. At dawn on the morning of
December 27 the firing began. The Carolina, after
a terrific bombardment, blew up. The Louisiana
fought her way out into a place of safety.
The days went by slowly under the dreadful sus-
pense. On New Year's day, General Packenham
cannonaded the Americans and was driven back.
On January 8, the final battle began. Early in the
morning, the British moved against the Americans.
Jackson walked along the lines, cheering the men,
" Stand to your guns. Don't waste your ammuni-
tion. See that every shot tells. Give it to them,
boys ! Let us finish the business to-day.1'
And every shot did tell. The : harpshooters
aimed at the officers, and the batteries mowed down
the British regulars. Seeing them falter, Packen-
ANDREW JACKSON.
ham rushed among the men, shouting, " For shame !
recollect that you are British soldiers ! " Taking
off his hat, he spurred his horse to the head of the
wavering column. A ball splintered his right arm.
Then the Highlanders came to the support of their
comrades.
" Hurrah ! brave Highlanders ! " he said, as a mass
of grape-shot tore open his thigh and killed his
horse. Another shot struck him, and he was borne
under a live-oak to die. The great tree is still
standing.
At nine o'clock in the morning the battle was
virtually over. The English lost seven hundred
killed, fourteen hundred wounded, and five hun-
dred taken prisoners ; while the Americans lost but
eight killed and thirteen wounded. " The field
was so thickly strewn with the dead that, from the
American ditch, you could have walked a quarter
of a mile to the front on the bodies of the killed
and disabled. . . . The course of the column could
be distinctly traced in the broad red line of the
victims of the terrible batteries and unerring guns
of the Americans. They fell in their tracks ; in
some places, whole platoons lay together, as if
killed by the same discharge."
The news of this great victory at New Orleans
astonished the North, and made Jackson the hero
of his time. The whole country was proud of a
man who could win such a battle, losing the lives
of so few of his men. Nearly every State passed
resolutions in his praise. The Senate and House
AXDREW J,l' A>o.Y.
of Representatives ordered a gold medal to be
struck in his honor. Philadelphia enjoyed a gen-
eral illumination ; one of the transparencies repre-
senting the general on horseback in pursuit of the
enemy, with the words, " This day shall ne'er go
by, from this day to the ending of the world, but
He in it shall be remembered." Henry Clay said.
"Now I can go to England without mortification."
When Jackson and his army returned to New
Orleans, men, women, and children came out to
meet them. Young ladies strewed flowers along
the way ; children crowned the general with laurel.
and an impressive service was held in his honor in
the Cathedral. He replied, "For myself, to have
been instrumental in the deliverance of such a
country is the greatest blessing that Heaven could
confer. That it has been effected with so little loss
— that so few tears should cloud the smiles of our
triumph, and not a cypress leaf be interwoven in
the wreath which you present, is a source of the
most exquisite enjoyment."
Mrs. Jackson and little Andrew, now seven years
old, came down from the Hermitage, and his cup
of joy was indeed full. To havfe Rachel's com-
mendation was more than to have that of all of
the world besides. The ladies of New Orleans
gave to her a valuable set of topaz jewelry, and to
the general a diamond pin. A month later, they
were at home once more. He had shown the good
judgment, the calm braveiy, the comprehensive
outlook, the quick decision, the tender compassion
ANDHEK' JACKSON. 168
of the great soldier. Perhaps the busy public life
was over — who could tell ?
Four months later, General Jackson went to
Washington, at the request of the Secretary of
War, to arrange about the stations of the army in
the South. The journey thither was one constant
ovation. At a great banquet tendered him at
Lynehburg, Virginia, Thomas Jefferson, then seven-
ty-two, gave this toast : " Honor and gratitude to
those who have filled the measure of their coun-
try's honor/' At Washington also he received
distinguished attention.
In 1817, the Seminole Indians of Georgia and
Alabama had become hostile. General Jackson
was the man to conquer them. He immediately
marched into their country with eighteen hundred
whites and fifteen hundred friendly Indians, and
in five months subjugated them.
Florida was purchased in 1819, and two years
later Jackson was appointed its governor, with a
salary of five thousand dollars. Mrs. Jackson
joined him there, but neither was happy, and he
soon resigned, and returned with her to the Her-
mitage. He had built for her a new house, a
two-story brick, surrounded by a double piazza.
He was at this time frail in health, and did not
expect ever to live in the home, but wished it to
be made beautiful for her. He hoped now to live
a quiet life, enjoying his garden and his farm ; but
the nation had other plans for him.
In 1823. Jackson was elected to the United
164 AlfDBEW JACKSON.
States Senate, twenty-six years after his first ap-
pearance in that body. He was now prominently
mentioned as a candidate for the Presidency.
Strange contrast indeed to the days when, bare-
footed and orphaned, he struggled for the rudi-
ments of an education.
While he had many ardent friends, he had
strong opponents. Daniel Webster said, " If Gen-
eral Jackson is elected, the government of our
country will be overthrown ; the judiciary will be
destroyed ; " yet he added, " His manners are
more presidential than those of any of the candi-
dates. He is grave, mild, and reserved. My wife
is for him decidedly." Jefferson said, "I feel
very much alarmed at the prospect of seeing Gen-
eral Jackson President. He is one of the most
unfit men I know of for the place. He has had
very little respect for laws or constitution, and is,
in fact, an able military chief. His passions are
terrible. ... He has been much tried since I knew
him, but he is a dangerous man." But the people
knew he had conquered the Indians and the Brit-
ish, and they believed in him.
The candidates for the Presidency in 1824 were
Jackson, John Quincy Adams, William H. Craw-
ford, and Henry Clay. While Jackson received
the largest popular vote, the House of Representa-
tives, balloting by States, elected John Quincy
Adams. It was believed that Clay used his influ-
ence for Adams against Jackson, and this caused
the election of Adams, a scholarly man, the
ANDREW JACKSON. 165
son of John Adams, and long our representative
abroad.
Four years later, in 1828, the people made their
voices heard at the ballot-box, and Jackson was
elected by a large majority. The contest had
been exceedingly personal and annoying. The
old stories about his marriage were again dragged
through the press. Mrs. Jackson, a victim of
heart-disease, was unduly troubled, and became
broken in health. When he was elected, she said,
u Well, for Mr. Jackson's sake, I am glad ; for my
own part, I never wished it."
Jackson had built for her a small brick church
in the Hermitage grounds, and here, where the
neighbors and servants gathered, she found her
deepest happiness, and sighed for no greater
sphere of usefulness. When she urged the general
to join her church, he said, " My dear, if I were to
do that now, it would be said, all over the country,
that I had done it for the sake of political effect.
My enemies would all say so. I cannot do it now,
but I promise you that, when once more I am clear
of politics. I will join the church."
The people of Nashville were of course proud
that one from their city had been chosen to so
high a position, and tendered him a banquet on
December 23, the anniversary of the first battle
at New Orleans. A few days before this, Mrs.
Jackson was taken ill, but she urged her husband
to make himself ready for the banquet. While he
had watched by her bedside constantly, on the even-
166 AX DREW JACKSOy.
ing of December 22, she was so much better that
he consented to lie down on a sofa in an adjoin-
ing room. He had not been there five minutes
before a cry was heard from Mrs. Jackson. He
hastened to her, but she never breathed again.
He could not believe that she was dead. \Vlu-n
they brought a table to lay her body upon it, he
said tenderly, in a choking voice, "Spread four
blankets upon it. If she does come to, she will
lie so bard upon the table."
All night long he sat beside the form of his
beloved Kachel, often feeling of her heart and
pulse. In the morning he was wholly inconsol-
able, and, when he found that she was really dead,
the body could scarcely be forced from his arms.
At the funeral, the road to the Hermitage was
almost impassable. The press said of her. " Her
pure and gentle heart, in which a selfish, guileful.
or malicious thought, never found entrance, was
the throne of benevolence. ... To feed the hun-
gry, to clothe the naked, to supply the indigent, to
raise the humble, to notice the friendless, and to
comfort the unfortunate, were her favorite occu-
pations. . . . Thus she lived, and when death ap-
proached, her patience and resignation were equal
to her goodness ; not an impatient gesture, not
a vexatious look, not a fretful accent escaped her :
but her last breath was charged with an expression
of tenderness for the man whom she loved more
than her life, and honored next to her God."
Only such a nature could have held the undivided
ANDREW JACKSON. 167
love of an impetuous, imperious man. Jackson,
like so many other unchristian men, had the wis-
dom to desire and to choose for himself a Chris-
tian wife.
He prepared a tomb for her like an open summer-
house, and buried her under the white dome sup-
ported by marble pillars. On the tablet above her
are the words, " Here lie the remains of Mrs.
Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson.- . . .
Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper
amiable, her heart kind ; she delighted in relieving
the wants of her fellow-creatures, and cultivated
that divine pleasure by the most liberal and unpre-
tending methods ; to the poor she was a benefactor;
to the rich an example ; to the wretched a com-
forter ; to the prosperous an ornament ; her piety
went hand in hand with her benevolence, and she
thanked her Creator for being permitted to do good.
A being so gentle and so virtuous, slander might
wound, but could not dishonor. Even Death, when
he tore her from the arms of her husband, could
but transport her to the bosom of her God."
Such a woman need have no fear that she will
fade out of a human heart. While Jackson lived,
he wore her miniature about his neck, and every
night laid it open beside her prayer-book at his
bedside. Her face was the last thing upon which
his eyes rested before he slept, through those eight
years at the White House, and the first thing upon
which his eyes opened in the morning. Possibly it
is not given to all women to win and hold so
168 ANDREW
complete and beautiful an affection ; perchance the
fault is sometimes theirs.
Andrew Jackson went to Washington, having
grown " twenty years older in a night," his friends
said. His nephew, Andrew Jackson Done! son, and
his lovely wife accompanied him. Earl, the artist,
who had painted her picture (" her " always meant
Rachel with General Jackson), for this reason
found a home also at the White House.
The inauguration seemed to have drawn the
whole country together. Webster said, "I never
saw such a crowd here before. Persons have come
five hundred miles to see General Jackson, and
they really seem to think that the country is res-
cued from some dreadful danger." After the cere-
mony, crowds completely filled the White House.
During the first year of the Presidency, the un-
fortunate maxim which had found favor in New
York politics, " To the victors belong the spoils,"
began to be carried out in the removal, it is be-
lieved, of nearly two thousand persons from office,
and substituting those of different political opin-
ions. The removals raised a storm of indignation
from the opposite party, which did not in the least
disturb General Jackson.
In his first message to Congress, after maintain-
ing that a long tenure of office is corrupting, urg-
ing that the surplus revenue be apportioned among
the several States for works of public utility, he
took strong ground against rechartering the United
States Bank. This caused much alarm, for the in-
ANDREW JACKSON. 169
fluenee of the bank was very great. Its capital
was thirty-five million dollars. The parent bank
was at Philadelphia, with twenty-five branches in
the large cities and towns. Since Alexander Ham-
ilton's time, a government bank had been a matter
of contention. When the second was started in
1816, after the war of 1812, business seemed to re-
vive, but many persons believed, with Henry Clay,
.that such a bank was unconstitutional, and a vast
political power that might be, and was, corruptly
used. Complaints were constantly heard that offi-
cials were favored.
When the bill to recharter the bank passed Con-
gress, Jackson promptly vetoed the bill. He said,
"We can, at least, take a stand against all new
grants of monopolies and exclusive privileges,
against any prostitution of our government to the
advancement of the few at the expense of the
many." A few years later he determined to put an
end to the bank by removing all the surplus funds,
amounting to ten millions, and placing them in cer-
tain State banks. When Mr. Duane, the Secretary
of the Treasury, would not remove the deposits,
General Jackson immediately removed him, putting
Koger B. Taney in his place. Congress passed a
vote of censure on the President, but it was after-
ward expunged from the records. Speculation re-
sulted from the distribution of the money ; the
panic of 1836-37 followed, which the Whigs said
was caused by, the destruction of the bank, and the
Democrats by the bank itself.
170 .l.v />///•; II JACKSON,
The United States Bank \v;is not the only dis-
turbing question in these times. The tariff, which
was advantageous to the manufacturers of the
North, was considered disadvantageous to the agri-
cultural interests of the South. Bitter feeling was
engendered by the discussion, till South Carolina,
under the leadership of John C. Calhoun, declared
that the acts of Congress on the tariff were null
and void; therefore, nullification or disunion be-
came the absorbing topic. Then came the great
dispute between Robert Y. Hayne and Daniel
Webster.
If the nullifiers or believers in extreme States
rights supposed Jackson to be on their side, they
were quickly undeceived. When Jefferson's birth-
day, April 13, was observed in Washington, as it
had been for twenty years. Jackson sent the fol-
io-wing toast: "OuR FEDERAL UNION: IT MUST
BE PRESERVED." He wrote to the citizens of
Charleston, " Every enlightened citizen must know
that a separation, could it be effected, would begin
with civil discord, and end in colonial dependence
on a foreign power, and obliteration from the list
of nations." He said, " If this thing goes on, our
country will be like a bag of meal with both ends
open. Pick it up in the middle or endwise, it will
run out."
Still, South Carolina was not to be deterred, with
the eloquent Calhoun as her leader, and the Nullifi-
cation Ordinance was passed November 24, 1832.
At once the governor was authorized to accept the
ANDliEW JACKSON. 171
service of volunteers. Medals were struck bearing
the words, " John C. Calhoun, First President of
the Southern Confederacy."
By the time South Carolina was ready to break
the laws, another person was ready to enforce them.
Jackson at once sent General Scott to take com-
mand at Charleston, with gun-boats close by, and
sent also an earnest and eloquent protest to the
seceding State. Public meetings were held in the
large cities of the North. The tariff was modified
at the next session of Congress, but the disunion
doctrines were allowed to grow till thirty years
later, when they bore the bitter fruit of civil war.
When Jackson was asked, years afterward, what
he would have done with Calhoun and the milli-
ners if they had continued, he replied, " Hung
them as high as Hainan. They should have been
a terror to traitors to all time, and posterity would
have pronounced it the best act of my life." When
difficulties arose about the Cherokees of Georgia,
he removed them to the Indian Territory ; a harsh
measure it seemed, but perhaps not harder for the
tribes than to have attempted to live among hostile
whites. When the French king neglected to pay
the five million dollars agreed upon for injuries
done to our shipping, Jackson recommended to
make reprisals on French merchantmen, and the
money was paid. The national debt was paid un-
der Jackson, who believed rightly that this, as
well as every other kind of debt, is a curse. The
Eaton affair showed his loyalty to friends. John
172 ANDREI!' ./J'A>o.y.
H. Eaton, Secretary of War, had married the widow
of a purser in the Navy, formerly the daughter of
a tavern-keeper in Washington. Her conduct had
caused criticism, and the ladies of the Cabinet
would not associate with her — even though Presi-
dent Jackson tried every means in his power to
compel it, as Eaton was his warm friend.
When the eight years of presidential life were
over, Jackson sent his farewell address to the
people of the country, who had idolized him. and
whom he had loved, he said. '' with the affection of
a son," and retired to the Hermitage. The people
of Nashville met him with outstretched arms and
tearful faces. He was seventy years old, f/n>!r
President, and he had come home to live and die
with them.
He was now through with politics, and wanted
to carry out her wishes, to join the little Hermit-
age church. The night of decision was full of
meditation and prayer. One morning in 1843, the
church was crowded to see the ex-President make
a public confession of the Christian religion. He
went home to read his Bible more carefully than
ever — he had never read less than three chapters
daily for thirty-five years, such is the influence
of early education received at a mother's knee.
The following year, 1844, Commodore Elliot
offered the sarcophagus which he brought from
Palestine, believed to have contained the remains
of the Roman Emperor, Alexander Severus. to
President Jackson for his final resting-place.
i
ANDREW JACKSON. 173
A letter of cordial thanks was returned, with
the words, " I cannot consent that my mortal
body shall be laid in a repository prepared for an
emperor or a king. My republican feelings and
principles forbid it ; the simplicity of our system
of government forbids it. ... I have prepared an
humble depository for my mortal body beside that
wherein lies my beloved wife, where, without any
pomp or parade, I have requested, when my God
calls me to sleep with my fathers, to be laid."
The May of 1845 found General Jackson feeble
and emaciated, but still deeply interested in his
country, writing letters to President Polk and
other statesmen about Texas, hoping ever to avert
war if possible. "If not," he said, "let war come.
There will be patriots enough in the land to repel
foreign aggression, come whence it may, and to
maintain sacredly our just rights and to perpetuate
our glorious constitution and liberty, and to preserve
our happy Union." He made his will, bequeathing
all his property to his adopted, son, because, said
he, "If she were alive, she. would wish him to
have it all, and to me her wish is law."
On Sunday, June 8, 1845, the family and ser-
vants gathered about the great man, who was
dying at the age of seventy-eight, having fought
against wounds and disease all his life. " My dear
children," he said, " do not grieve for me ; it is
true I am going to leave you ; I am well aware of
my situation. I have suffered much bodily pain,
but my sufferings are but as nothing compared
174 ANDREW JACKSON.
with that which our blessed Saviour endured upon
that accursed cross, that all might be saved who
put their trust in him. ... I hope and trust to
meet you all in Heaven, both white and black —
both white and black." Then he kissed each one,
his eyes resting last, affectionately, upon his grand-
daughter Rachel, named for his wife, and closely
resembling her in loveliness of character ; then
death came.
Two days before he died, he said, " Heaven will
be no Heaven to me if I do not meet my wife
there." Who can picture that meeting ? He
used to say, " All I have achieved — fame, power,
everything — would I exchange, if she could be
restored to me for a moment." How blessed must
have been the restoration, not "for a moment,"
but for eternity !
The lawn at the Hermitage was crowded with
the thousands who came to attend the funeral.
From the portico, the minister spoke from the
words, "These are they which came out of great
tribulation, and washed their robes white in the
blood of the Lamb."
All over the country, public meetings were held
in honor of the illustrious dead ; the man who had
said repeatedly, " I care nothing about clamors ; I
do precisely what I think just and right."
" He had had honors beyond anything which
his own heart had ever coveted," says Prof. Will-
iam G. Sumner, in his life of Jackson. "His
successes had outrun his ambition. He had held
ANDREW JACKSON. 17o
more power than any other American had ever
possessed. He had been idolized by the great
majority of his countrymen, and had been sur-
feited with adulation."
Politicians sometimes sneered about his " kitchen
cabinet" at Washington, the devoted friends who
influenced him but did not hold official position,
for, self-reliant though he was to a marvellous
degree, he was neither afraid nor ashamed to be
influenced by those who loved him. He was abso-
lutely sincere and unselfish. He hated intensely,
and loved intensely; with an affection as unchang-
ing as his adamantine will. Patriotic, determined,
energetic, and heroic, he attained success where
others would have failed. He illustrated Emer-
son's words, " The man who stands by himself, the
universe will stand by him also." Francis P.
Blair, his devoted friend, used to say, "Of all the
men I have known. Andrew Jackson was the one
most entirely sufficient for himself." During his
presidency, the steamboat which once conveyed
him and his party down the Chesapeake was unsea-
worthy, and one of the men exhibited much alarm.
" You are uneasy," said the general ; " you never
sailed with me before, I see."
As a soldier, he was a brave, wise, skilful
leader; as a statesman, honest, earnest, fearless,
true — " I do precisely what I think just and right."
Said a friend who knew him well, " There was
more of the woman in his nature than in that of
any man I ever knew — more of woman's tender-
176 ANDREW JACKSON.
ness toward children, and sympathy with them.
Often has he been known, though he never had a
child of his own, to walk up and down by the hour
with an infant in his arms, because by so doing he
relieved it from the cause of its crying; more also
of woman's patience and -uncom plaining, unnotic-
ing submissiveness to trivial causes of irritation.
There was in him a womanly modesty and deli-
cacy. . . . By no man was the homage due to
woman, the only true homage she can receive —
faith in her — more devoutly rendered. . . . This
peculiar tenderness of nature entered largely, no
doubt, into the composition of that manner of his,
with which so many have been struck, and which
was of the highest available stamp as regards
both dignity and grace."
Much of what he was in character he owed to
Rachel Jackson. He once said to a prominent
man, " My wife was a pious Christian woman.
She gave me the best advice, and I have not been
unmindfiil of it. When the people, in their
sovereign pleasure, elected me President of the
United States, she said to me, ' Don't let your pop-
ularity turn your mind away from the duty you
owe to God. Before him we are all alike sinners,
and to him we must all alike give account. All
these things will pass away, and you and I and
all of us must stand before God.' I have never
forgotten it, and I never shall."
DAJfUCL WKHMT.K.
DANIEL WEBSTER.
IN the little town of Salisbury, New Hampshire,
now called Franklin, Daniel Webster was born,
January 18, 1782, the ninth in a family of ten
children. Ebenezer, the father, descended from a
sturdy Puritan ancestry, had fought in the French
and Indian Wars ; a brave, hardy pioneer. He
had cleared the wilderness for his log house, mar-
ried a wife who bore him five children, after which
she died, and then married a second time, Abigail
Eastman, a woman of vigorous understanding, yet
tender and self-sacrificing. Of the five children
of the latter wife, three daughters and two sons,
Daniel was the fourth, a slight, delicate child,
whose frail body made him especially dear to the
mother, who felt that at any time he might be
taken out of her arms forever.
" In this hut," said Webster, years later, speak-
ing of his father and mother, "they endured
together all sorts of privations and hardships ; my
mother was constantly visited by Indians, who had
never gone to a white man's house but to kill its
inhabitants, while my father, perhaps, was g^pe,
as he frequently was, miles away, carrying on his
177
178 DANIEL WEBSTER.
back the corn to be ground, which was to support
his family."
The father was absent from home, also, on more
important errands. When the news of the battle
of Bunker Hill thrilled the colonies, Captain
Webster, who had won his title in the earlier Avars,
raised a company, and at once started for the scene
of action. He fought at Bennington under Stark.
being the first to scale the Tory breastworks, at
White Plains, and was at West Point when Arnold
attempted to surrender it to the British. He
stood guard before General Washington's head-
quarters, the night of Arnold's treason. No won-
der, when Washington looked upon the robust
form nearly six feet high, with black hair and
eyes, and firm decisive manner, he said, ''Captain
Webster, I believe I can trust you."
And so thought the people of New Hampshire,
for they made him a member of both Houses of
the State Legislature at various times, and a Judge
of the Court of Common Pleas in his own county.
The delicate boy Daniel was unable to work on
the farm like his brother Ezekiel, two years older,
but found his pleasure and pastime in reading, and
in studying nature. The home, "Elms Farm," as
it was called later, from the elms about it, was in a
valley at a bend of the Merrimac. From here the
boy gazed upon Mount Kearsarge, and Mount Wash-
ington, the king of the White Mountain peaks,
and if he did not dream of what the future had in
store for him, he grew broad in soul from such
DANIEL WEBSTER. 179
surroundings. Great mountains, great reaches of
sea or plain, usually bring great thoughts and plans
to those who view them with a loving heart.
Daniel had little opportunity for schooling in
those early years. He says, in his autobiography,
"I do not remember when or by whom I was
taught to read, because I cannot, and never could,
recollect a time when I could not read the Bible.
I suppose I was taught by my mother, or by my
elder sisters. My father seemed to have no higher
object in the world than to educate his children to
the full extent of his very limited ability. No
means were within his reach, generally speaking,
but the small town-schools. These were kept by
teachers, sufficiently indifferent, in the several
neighborhoods of the township, each a small part
of the year. To these I was sent with the other
children. ... In these schools nothing was taught
but reading and writing ; and as to these, the first
I generally could perform better than the teacher,
and the last a good master could hardly instruct
me in ; writing was so laborious, irksome, and
repulsive an occupation to me always."
Much of the boy's time was spent in rambles
along the Merrimac river, formed by the Winni-
piseogee and the Pemigewasset, " the beau ideal
of a mountain stream ; cold, noisy, winding, and
with banks of much picturesque beauty." He
loved to fish along the streams, having for com-
pany an old British soldier and sailor, Robert Wise.
"He was," says Webster, "my Isaac Walton. He
180 DANIEL WEBSTER.
had a wife but no child. He loved me, because I
would read the newspapers to him, containing the
accounts of battles in the European wars. AVh»Mi
I have read to him the details of the victories of
Howe and Jervis, etc., I remember he was excited
almost to convulsions, and would relieve his ex-
citement by a gush of exulting tears. He finally
picked up a fatherless child, took him home, sent
him to school, and took care of him, only, as he
said, that he might have some one to read the
newspaper to him. He could never read himself.
Alas, poor Robert ! I have never so attained the
narrative art as to hold the attention of others as
thou, with thy Yorkshire tongue, hast held mine.
Thou hast carried me many a mile on thy back,
paddled me over and over and up and down the
stream, and given whole days in aid of my boyish
sports, and asked no meed but that, at night, I
would sit down at thy cottage door, and read to
thee some passage of thy country's glory !"
Daniel heard of battles from another source
beside Robert Wise. In the long winter evenings,
when the family were snow-bound, Captain Web-
ster would tell stories of the Revolutionary War,
and the boy grew patriotic, as he heard of the
brave soldiers who died to bring freedom to unborn
generations. When he was eight years old, with
all the money at his command, twenty-five cents,
he went into a little shop "and bought," as he
says, "a small cotton pocket-handkerchief, with
the Constitution of the United States printed on
DANIEL WEBSTElt. 181
its two sides. From this I learned either that
there was a Constitution, or that there were thir-
teen States. I remember to have read it, and have
known more or less of it ever since." Years after-
ward he said, "that there was not an article, a sec-
tion, a clause, a phrase, a word, a syllable, or even
a comma, of that Constitution, which he had not
studied and pondered in every relation and in
every construction of which it was susceptible."
How important a part this twenty-rive cent
handkerchief played in the lives of the two Web-
ster boys ! There is no soil so mellow as that of a
child's mind ; it needs no enriching save love that
warms it like sunshine. What is planted there
early, grows rank and tall, and mothers do most of
the planting.
The lad's reading in these boyish days was con-
fined mostly to the " Spectator," and Pope's " Essay
on Man." The whole of the latter he learned to
repeat. "We had so few books," he says, "that to
read them once or twice was nothing. We thought
they were all to be got by heart." The yearly al-
manac was regarded as " an acquisition." Once
when Ezekiel and he had a dispute, after retiring, as
to a couplet at the head of the April page, Daniel
got up, groped his way to the kitchen, lighted a
candle, looked at the quotation, found himself in
the wrong, and went back to bed. But he had in-
advertently, at two o'clock at night in midwinter,
set the house on fire, which was saved by his
father's presence of mind. Daniel said, "They
182 DAXIEL WEltSTKIl.
were in pursuit of light, but got more than they
wanted."
Exceedingly fond of poetry, at twelve he could
repeat many of the hymns of Dr. Watts. Later, he
found delight in Don Quixote, of which he s;i\ s.
" I began to read it, and it is literally true that I
never closed my eyes until I had finished it ; nor
did I lay it down, so great was the power of that
extraordinary book on my imagination." Later
still, Milton, Shakespeare, and tlie Bible became
his inspiration.
Years after, he used to say, " I have read through
the entire Bible many times. I now make it a
practice to go through it once a year. It is the
book of all others for lawyers as well as for di-
vines ; and I pity the man that cannot find in it a
rich supply of thought, and of rules for his conduct.
It fits man for life — it prepares him for death ! "
Captain Webster had secretly nourished the
thought that he should send Daniel to college, but
he was not a man to awaken false hopes, so he made
no mention of his thoughts. An incident related
by Daniel shoAvs his father's heart in the matter.
" Of a hot day in July, it must have been in one of
the last years of Washington's administration, I
was making hay with my father. About the mid-
dle of the forenoon, the Honorable Abiel Foster,
who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at the
house, and came into the field to see my father.
He was a worthy man, college-learned, and had
been a minister, and was not a person of any con-
DANIEL WEBSTEU. 183
siderable natural power. He talked a while in the
field and went on his way. When he was gone, my
father called me to him, and we sat down beneath
the elm, on a haycock. He said, ' My son, that is
a worthy man ; he is a member of Congress ; he
goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day,
while I toil here. It is because he had an educa-
tion, which I never had. If I had had his early
education, I should have been in Philadelphia in his
place. I came near it as it was. But I missed it,
and now I must work here.' 'My dear father,'
said I, ' you shall not work. Brother and I shall
work for you, and will wear our hands out, and you
shall rest.' And I remember to have cried, and I
cry now at the recollection. 'My child,' said he,
' it is of no importance to me. I now live but for
my children. I could not give your elder brothers
the advantages of knowledge, but I can do some-
thing for you. Exert yourself, improve your op-
portunities, learn, learn, and, when I am gone, you
will not need to go through the hardships which I
have undergone, and which have made me an old
man before my time.' "
Daniel never forgot those precious words, " Im-
prove your opportunities, learn, learn." The next
year, 1796, he went to Phillips Exeter Academy,
where he found ninety boys. He had come with
his plain clothes from his plain home, while many
of the others had come from rich and aristocratic
families. Sometimes the boys ridiculed his country
ways and country dress. Little they knew of the
184 DANIEL WEBSTER.
future that was to give them some slight renown
simply because they happened to be in the same
class with this country lad ! When will the world
learn not to judge a person by his clothes ! When
the first term at Exeter was near its close, the usher.
Nicholas Emery, afterward an eminent lawyer in
Portland, Maine, said to Webster, " You may stop a
few minutes after school : I wish to speak to you."
He then told the lad that he was a better scholar
than any in his class, that he learned more re;idily
and easily, and that if he returned to school he
should be put into a higher class, and not be hin-
dered by boys who cared more for play and dress
than for solid improvement.
" These were the first truly encouraging words,"
said Mr. Webster, "that I ever received with re-
gard to my studies. I then resolved to return, and
pursue them with diligence and so much ability as
I possessed." Blessings on thee, Nicholas Emery !
Strange that either from indifference, or what we
think the world will say, we forget to speak a help-
ful or an encouraging word. True appreciation is
not flattery.
Daniel was at this time extremely diffident — a
manner that speaks well for a boy or girl generally
— and was helped out of it by a noble young teacher,
Joseph Stevens Buckminster, who died at twenty-
eight. Mr. Webster says, " I believe I made toler-
able progress in most branches which I attended to
while in this school; but there was one thing I
could not do — I could not make a declamation. I
DANIEL WEBSTER. 185
could not speak before the school. The kind and
excellent Kuckminster sought, especially, to per-
suade me to perform the exercise of declamation
like other boys, but I could not do it. Many a
piece did I commit to memory, and recite and re-
hearse in my own room, over and over again, yet,
when the day came, when the school collected to
hear declamations, when my name was called, and
I saw all eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise
myself from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned,
sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buckminster always
pressed and entreated, most winmngly, that I would
venture, but I could never command sufficient reso-
lution. When the occasion was over, I went home
and wept bitter tears of mortification."
After nine months at Exeter, Daniel began to
study with Kev. Samuel Wood, a minister in the
adjoining town of Boscawen, six miles from Salis-
bury. As Captain Webster was driving over with
his son, he communicated to him his plan of send-
ing him to college. "I remember," says Daniel
Webster, "the very hill which we were ascending,
through deep snows, in a New England sleigh,
when my father made known this purpose to me.
I could not speak. How could he, I thought, with
so large a family, and in such narrow circum-
stances, think of incurring so great an expense for
me ? A warm glow ran all over me, and I laid my
head on my father's shoulder and wept."
All through life, Mr. Webster, greatest of Amer-
ican orators, was never afraid nor ashamed to
186 DANIEL WEHSTER.
weep. Children are not, and the nearer we keep
to the naturalness of children, with reasonable
self-control, the more power we have over others,
and the sweeter and purer grow onr natures.
While Daniel was at Dr. Wood's, a characteristic
incident occurred. He says : " My father sent for
me in haying time to help him, and put me into
a field to turn hay, and left me. It was pretty
lonely there, and, after working some time, I found
it very dull ; and as I knew ray father was gone
away, I walked home, and asked my sister Sally if
she did not want to go and pick some whortle-
berries. She said, yes. So I went and got some
horses, and put a side-saddle on one, and we set
off. WTe did not get home until it was pretty late,
and I soon went to bed. When my father came
home he asked my mother where I was, and what
I had been about. She told him. The next morn-
ing, when I aAvoke, I saw all the clothes I had
brought from Dr. Wood's tied up in a small bundle
again. When I saw my father, he asked me how I
liked haying. I told him I found it ' pretty dull
and lonesome yesterday.' ' Well,' said he, ' I
believe you may as well go back to Dr. Wood's.'
So. I took my bundle under my arm, and on my
way I met Thomas W. Thompson, a lawyer in
Salisbury ; he laughed very heartily when he saw
me. ' So,' said he, 'your farming is over, is it ? "
In August, 1797, when Daniel was fifteen, he
entered Dartmouth College ; there he proved a
genial, affectionate friend, and a devoted student.
DANIEL WEBSTER. 187
But for this natural warmth of heart, he probably
never would have been an orator, for those only
move others whose own hearts are moved. " He
had few intimates," says Henry Cabot Lodge, in
his admirably written and discriminating " Life of
Webster," " but many friends. He was generally
liked as well as universally admired, was a leader
in the college societies, active and successful in
sports, simple, hearty, unaffected, without a touch
of priggishness, and with a wealth of wholesome
animal spirits."
After two years, the unselfish student could bear
no longer the thought that his beloved brother
Ezekiel was not to enjoy a college education.
When he went home in vacation, he confided to his
brother his un happiness for his sake, and for a
whole night they discussed the subject. It was
decided that Daniel should consult the father.
" This, we knew," said Mr. Wrebster, " would be a
trying thing to my father and mother and two
unmarried sisters. My father was growing old,
his health not good, and his circumstances far
from easy.. The farm was to be carried on, and
the family taken care of ; and there was nobody to
do all this but him, who was regarded as the main-
stay— that is to say, Ezekiel. However, I ven-
tured on the negotiation, and it was carried, as
other things often are, by the earnest and sanguine
manner of youth. I told him that I was unhappy
at my brother's prospects. For myself, I saw my
way to knowledge, respectability, and self-protec-
188 DANIEL WEBSTER.
tion; but, as to him, all looked the other way;
that I would keep school, and get along as well as
I could, be more than four years in getting through
college, if necessary, — provided he also could be
sent to study. . . . He said that to carry us both
through college would take all he was worth ; that,
for himself, he was willing to run the risk ; but
that this was a serious matter to our mother and
two unmarried sisters ; that we must settle the
matter with them, and, if their consent was ob-
tained, he would trust to Providence, and get
along as well as he could."
Captain Webster consulted with his wife ; told
her that already the farm was mortgaged for Dan-
iel's education, and that if Ezekiel went to college
it would take all they possessed. "Well," said
she, with her brave mother-heart, "I will trust
the boys ; " and they lived to make her glad that
she had trusted them.
The boy of seventeen went back to Dartmouth
to struggle with poverty alone, but he was happy ;
the boy of nineteen began a new life, studying
under Dr. Wood, and, later, entered -Dartmouth
College.
Daniel, as he had promised, began to earn money
to pay his own and his brother's way. By super-
intending a small weekly paper, called the Dart-
mouth Gazette, he earned enough to pay his
board. In the winter he taught school, and gave
the money to Ezekiel. While in college, his won-
derful powers in debate began to manifest them-
DANIEL WEBSTER. 189
selves. He wrote his own declamations. Said one
of his classmates : " In his movements he was
rather slow and deliberate, except when his feel-
ings were aroused; then his whole soul would
kindle into a flame. We used to listen to him with
the deepest respect and interest, and no one ever
thought of equalling the vigor and flow of his
eloquence."
]>eside his regular studies, he devoted himself to
history and politics. From the old world he
learned lessons in linance, in commerce, in the sta-
bility of governments, that he was able to use in
after life. He remembered what he read. He
says, " So much as I read I made my own. When
a half-hour or an hour, at most, had elapsed, I
closed my book, and thought over what I had read.
If there was anything peculiarly interesting or
striking in the passage, I endeavored to recall it,
and lay it up in my memory, and commonly I could
recall it. Then, if, in debate or conversation after-
ward, any subject came up on which I had read
something, I could talk very easily so far as I had
read, and then I was very careful to stop." In this
manner Mr. Webster became skilled in the art of
conversation, and could be the life of any social
gathering.
On July 4, 1800, he delivered his first public
speech, at the request of the people of Hanover,
tracing the history of our country to the grand
success of the Revolution.
On leaving college he entered the law office of Mr.
190 DANIEL WEBSTER.
T. W. Thompson, of Salisbury. He seems not to
have inclined strongly to the law, his tastes leading
him toward general literature, but he was guided
by the wishes of his father and other friends. His
first reading was in the Law of Nations — Yattd.
Burlamaqui, and Montesquieu, followed by Hhu-k-
stone's Commentaries. After four months, he was
obliged to quit his studies and earn money for
Ezekiel.
He obtained a school at Fryeburg, Maine, prom-
ising to teach for six months for one hundred and
seventy-five dollars. Four nights each week he
copied deeds, and made in this way two dollars a
week. Thirty years afterward he said, " The ache
is not yet out of my fingers ; for nothing has ever
been so laborious to me as writing, when under the
necessity of writing a good hand."
When May came with its week of vacation, he
says, " I took my quarter's salary, mounted a horse,
went straight over all the hills to Hanover, and
had the pleasure of putting these, the first earn-
ings of my life, into my brother's hands for his
college expenses. Having enjoyed this sincere and
high pleasure, I hied me back again to my school
and my copying of deeds." Thus at twenty was
the great American living out Emerson's sublime
motto, " Help somebody," founded on that broadest
and sweetest of all commands, " Love one an-
other."
"In these days," says George Ticknor Curtis'
delightful life of Webster, '' he was always digui-
DANIEL WEBSTER. 191
fied in his deportment. He was usually serious,
but often facetious and pleasant. He was an
agreeable companion, and eminently social with all
who shared his friendship. He was greatly be-
loved by all who knew him. His habits were
strictly abstemious, and he neither took wine nor
strong drink. He was punctual in his attendance
upon public worship, and ever opened his school
with prayer. I never heard him use a profane
word, and never saw him lose his temper."
While teaching and copying deeds, he read
Adam's " Defence of the American Constitutions,"
Williams' "Vermont," Mosheim's "Ecclesiastical
History," and continued his Blackstone. He walked
much in the fields, alone, and thus learned to know
himself ; gaining that power of thought and mas-
tery of self which are essential to those who would
have mastery over others. He said, " I loved this
occasional solitude then, and have loved it ever
since, and love it still. I like to contemplate nat-
ure, and to hold communion, unbroken by the
presence of human beings, with 'this universal
frame — this wondrous fair.' I like solitude also,
as favorable to thoughts less lofty. I like to let
the thoughts go free, and indulge excursions. And
when thinking is to be done one must, of course,
be alone. No man knows himself who does not
thus sometimes keep his own company. At a sub-
sequent period of life, I have found that my lonely
journeys, when following the court on its circuits,
have afforded many an edifying day."
192 DAXIKL \\'EHSTER.
And yet in this Vmsy life he called himself
"naturally indolent," which was true, probably.
Seeing that most of us do not love work, it is wise
that in early life, if we would accomplish any-
thing, we are drilled into habits of industry.
When he went back to the study of law, he says,
" I really often despaired. I thought I never could
make myself a lawyer, and was almost going back
to the business of school-keeping. There are prop-
ositions in Coke so abstract, and distinctions so
nice, and doctrines embracing so many conditions
and qualifications, that it requires an effort not
only of a mature mind, but of a mind both strong
and mature, to understand him." And yet he adds,
" If one can keep up an acquaintance with general
literature in the meantime, the law may help to
invigorate and unfold the powers of the mind."
He longed, as every ambitious young man longs.
for a wider sphere. If he could only go to Boston,
and mingle with the cultivated society there ! — but
this seemed an impossibility. At this time Eze-
kiel, through a college friend, was offered a private
school in Boston. He accepted the position, and
wrote to Daniel urging him to come and teach
Latin and Greek for an hour and a half each day,
thus earning enough to pay his board.
Daniel went to Boston, poor and unknown.
His first efforts in finding an office in which to
study were unsuccessful, for who cares about a
young stranger in a great city ? If we looked
upon a human being as his Maker looks, doubtless
DANIEL \VEB8TEH. 198
we should be interested in him. He desired to
study with some one already prominent. He found
his way to the office of Christopher Gore, who was
the first district attorney of the United States for
Massachusetts, a commissioner to England under
Jay's treaty for eight years, Ex-Governor of the
State, and ex-senator. Mr. Webster thus narrates
his early experience : " A young man, as little
known to Mr. Gore as myself, undertook to intro-
duce me to him. We ventured into Mr. Gore's
rooms, and my name was pronounced. I was
shockingly embarrassed, but Mr. Gore's habitual
courtesy of manner gave me courage to speak. T
had the grace to begin with an unaffected apology,
told him my position was very awkward, my
appearance there very like an intrusion ; and that
if I expected anything but a civil dismission, it was
only founded in his known kindness and generosity
of character. I was from the country, I said ; had
studied law for two years ; had come to Boston to
study a year more ; had some respectable acquaint-
ances in New Hampshire, not unknown to him,
but had no introduction ; that I had heard he had
no clerk; thought it possible he would receive
one ; that I came to Boston to work, not to play ;
was most desirous, on all accounts, to be his pupil ;
and all I ventured to ask at present was that he
would keep a place for me in his office till I could
write to New Hampshire for proper letters, show-
ing me worthy of it. I delivered this speech trip-
pingly on the tongue, though I suspect it was
194 It. \.\IEL WEUSTER.
better composed than spoken. Mr. Gore heard
me with much encouraging good-nature. He evi-
d*ntly saw my embarrassment ; spoke kind words,
and asked me to sit down. My friend had already
disappeared. Mr. Gore said what I had suggested
was very reasonable, and required little apology.
. . . He inquired, and I told him, what gentlemen
of his acquaintance knew me and my father in
New Hampshire. Among others, I remember I
mentioned Mr. Peabody, who was Mr. Gore's
classmate. He talked to me pleasantly for a quar-
ter of an hour ; and, when I rose to depart, he
said : ' My young friend, you look as though you
might be trusted. You say you come to study, and
not to waste time. I will take you at your word.
You may as well hang up your hat at once ; go
into the other room ; take your book, and sit down
to reading it, and write at your convenience to
New Hampshire for your letters.' "
The young man must have had the same earnest,
frank look as the father when Washington said to
him, " Captain Webster, I believe I can trust you,"
else he would not have won his way so quickly to
the lawyer's confidence. Mr. Gore was a man of
indefatigable research and great amenity of man-
ners. The younger man probably unconsciously
took on the habits of the older, for, says Emerson,
" With the great we easily become great."
Webster now read, in addition to books on the
common and municipal law, Ward's "Law of
Nations," Lord Bacon's " Elements," Puffendorff 's
DANIEL WEBSTER. 195
" Latin History of England," Gifford's " Juvenal,"
Boswell's "Tour to the Hebrides," Moore's
"Travels," and other works. When we know
what books a man or woman reads, we generally
know the person. The life in Mr. Gore's office
was one long step on the road to fame, and it did
not come by chance; it came because, even in
timidity, Webster had the courage to ask for a high
place.
When about ready for admission to the bar, the
position of Clerk of the Court of Common Pleas of
Hillsborough County was offered to him, an ap-
pointment which had been the desire of the family
for him for years. The salary was fifteen hun-
dred dollars. This seemed a fortune indeed. " I
could pay all the debts of the family," he says,
'• could help on Ezekiel — in short, I was indepen-
dent. I had no sleep that night, and the next
morning when I went to the office I stepped up
the stairs with a lighter heart than I ever had
before." He conveyed the good news to Mr.
Gore.
"Well, my young friend," said he, "the gentle-
men have been very kind to you ; I am glad of it.
You must thank them for it. You will write imme-
diately, of course."
" I told him that I felt their kindness and liber-
ality very deeply ; that I should certainly thank
them in the best manner I was able ; but that, I
should go up to Salisbury so soon, I hardly thought
it was necessarv to write. He looked at me as if
196 DANIEL WEBSTER.
he was greatly surprised. 'Why,' said he, 'you
don't mean to accept it, surely ! ' The bare idea of
not accepting it so astounded me that I should have
been glad to have found any hole to have hid
myself in. ... 'Well,' said he, 'you must decide
for yourself ; but come, sit down, and let us talk it
over. The office is worth fifteen hundred a year,
you say. Well, it never will be any more. Ten to
one, if they find out it is so much, the fees will
be reduced. You are appointed now by friends;
others may fill their places who are of different
opinions, and who have friends of their own to
provide for. You will lose your place ; or, sup-
posing you to retain it, what are you but a clerk
for life ? And your prospects as a lawyer are good
enough to encourage you to go on. Go on, and
finish your studies ; you are poor enough,, but
there are greater evils than poverty : live on no
man's favor ; what bread you do eat, let it be the
bread of independence ; pursue your profession,
make yourself useful to your friends and a little
formidable to your enemies, and you have nothing
to fear.' "
Young Webster went home and passed another
sleepless night. Then he borrowed some money,
hired a sleigh, and started for Salisbury. When
he reached his father's house, the pale old man
said to him, " Well, Daniel, we have got that office
for you."
"Yes, father," was the reply, "the gentlemen
were very kind ; I must go and thank them."
DANIEL WEBSTER. 197
" They gave it to you without my saying a word
about it."
"I must go and see Judge Farrar, and tell him
I am much obliged to him."
" Daniel, Daniel," said he, at last, with a search-
ing look, " don't you mean to take that office ? "
" No, indeed, father," was the response, " I hope
I can do much better than that. I mean to use my
tongue in the courts, not my pen ; to be an actor,
not a register of other men's acts. I hope yet, sir,
to astonish your honor in your own court by my
professional attainments."
He looked half proud, half sorrowful, and said
slowly, "Well, my son, your mother has always
said you would come to something or nothing. She
was not sure which; I think you are now about
settling that doubt for her." He never spoke a
word more upon the subject. The fifteen-hundred-
dollar clerkship was gone forever, but Daniel had
chosen the right road to fame and prosperity.
He returned finally to the quiet town of Bos-
cawen, and, not willing to be separated from his
father, began the .life of a country lawyer. His
practice brought not more than five or six hundred
dollars a year, but it gave self-support. He had
also time for study. " Study," he said, " is the
grand requisite for a lawyer. Men may be born
poets, and leap from their cradle painters. Nature
may have made them musicians, and called on them
only to exercise, and not to acqiiire, ability; but
law is artificial. It is a human science, to be
198 DAXIKL WEBSTER.
learned, not inspired. Let there be a genius for
whom nature has done so much as apparently to
have left nothing for application, yet, to niukf a
lawyer, application must do as much as if nature
had done nothing. The evil is that an accursed
thirst for money violates everything. . . . The love
of fame is extinguished, every ardent wish for
knowledge repressed ; conscience put in jeopardy,
and the best feelings of the heart indurated by the
mean, money-catching, abominable practices which
cover with disgrace a part of the modern practi-
tioners of the law."
Webster's first speech at the bar was listened to
by his proud and devoted father, who did not live
to hear him a second time. He died in 1806, at
sixty-seven, and was buried beneath a tall pine-tree
on his own field. Daniel assumed his debts, and
for ten years bore the burden, if that may be
called a burden which we do willingly for love's
sake.
The next year he removed to Portsmouth. He
was now twenty-five, pale, slender, and of refined
and apparently delicate organization. He had
written considerable for the press, made several
Fourth of July orations, and published a little
pamphlet, " Considerations on the Embargo Laws."
In June, 1808, when he was twenty-six, he made
the wisest choice of his life in his marriage to
Grace Fletcher, daughter of Rev. Elijah Fletcher
of Hopkinton. She was twenty-seven, a rare com-
bination of intellect and sweetness, just the woman
DANIEL WEBSTER. 199
to inspire an educated man by her cultivated and
sympathetic mind, and to rest him with her gentle
and genial presence. She had a quiet dignity
which won respect, and her manners were un-
affected, frank, and winning. From the first time
he saw her she looked "like an angel " to him, and
such she ever remained to his vision.
And now began the happiest years of his life.
The small, wooden house in which they lived grew
into a palace, because love was there. His first
child, little Grace, named for her mother, became
the idol of his heart. Business increased and
friends multiplied during the nine years he lived at
Portsmouth. He was fortunate in having for an
almost constant opponent in the law the renowned
Jeremiah Mason, fourteen years his senior, and the
acknowledged head of the legal profession in New
Hampshire. Mr. Webster studied him closely.
"He had a habit," said Webster, "of standing
quite near to the jury, so near that he might have
laid his finger on the foreman's nose ; and then he
talked to them in a plain conversational way, in
short sentences, and using no word that was not
level to the comprehension of the least educated
man on the panel. This led me to examine my
own style, and T set about reforming it altogether."
Before this his style had been somewhat florid;
afterward it was terse, simple, and graphic.
On July 4, 1812, Webster delivered an oration
before the "Washington Benevolent Society," in
which he stoutly opposed the war then being car-
200 DANIEL WEBSTER.
riecl on with England. The address immediately
passed through two editions, and led to his ap-
pointment as delegate to an assembly of the people
of Rockingham County, to express disapproval of
the war. The " Rockingham Memorial," which
was presented to the President, was written by Mr.
Webster, and showed a thorough knowledge of the
condition of affairs, and an ardent devotion to the
Union, even though the various sections of the coun-
try might differ in opinion. The result of this
meeting was the sending of Mr. Webster to Con-
gress, where he took his seat May 24, 1813. He
was thirty -one ; the poverty, the poor clothes in
Dartmouth College, the burden of the father's debts
had not kept him from success.
Once in Congress, it was but natural that his in-
fluence should be felt. He did not speak often, but
when he did speak the House listened. He was
placed on the committee on Foreign Relations, with
Mr. Calhoun as chairman. He helped to repeal the
Embargo Laws, spoke on the Tariff, showing that
he was a Free Trader in principle, but favored Pro-
tection as far as expediency demanded it, and took
strong grounds against the war of 1812. He urged
the right and necessity of free speech on all ques-
tions. He said, " It is the ancient and undoubted
prerogative of this people to canvas public meas-
ures and the merits of public men. It is a ' home-
bred right,' a fireside privilege. It has ever been
enjoyed in every house, cottage, and cabin in the
nation. ... It is as undoubted as the right of
DANIEL WEBSTER. 201
breathing the air, or walking on the earth. Be-
longing to private life as a right, it belongs to pub-
lic life as a duty ; and it is the last duty which
those whose representative I am shall find me to
abandon."
He was active in that almost interminable discus-
sion concerning a United States Bank. The first
bank, chartered in 1791, had Hamilton for its de-
fender, and Jefferson for its opponent. In 1811,
the bank failed to obtain a renewal of its charter.
During the war of 1812, the subject was again
urged. The Jeffersonians were opposed to any
bank ; another party favored a bank which should
help the government by heavy loans, and be re-
lieved from paying its notes in specie ; still an-
other party, to which Webster belonged, favored a
bank with reasonable capital, compelled to redeem
its notes in specie, and at liberty to make loans or
not to the government. On the subject of the cur-
rency he made some remarkable speeches, showing
a knowledge of the subject perhaps unequalled
since Hamilton.
The bank bill passed in 1816, shorn of some of
its objectionable features. On April 26, Mr. Web-
ster presented his resolutions requiring all dues to
the government to be paid in coin, or in Treasury
notes, or in notes of the Bank of the United
States, and by a convincing speech aided in its
adoption, thus rendering his country a signal ser-
vice.
During this session of Congress, Webster re-
202 DANIEL WEBSTER.
ceived a challenge to a duel from John Randolph
of Roanoke, and was brave enough to refuse, say-
ing, " It is enough that I do not feel myself bound,
at all times and under any circumstances, to accept
from any man, who shall choose to risk his own
life, an invitation of this sort."
The time had come now in Mr. Webster's life for
a broader sphere ; he decided to move to Boston.
His law practice had never brought more than two
thousand dollars a year, and he needed more than
this for his growing family. Besides, his house at
Portsmouth, costing him six thousand dollars, had
been burned, his library and furniture destroyed,
and he must begin the world anew.
The loss of property was small compared with
another loss close at hand. Grace, the beautiful,
precocious first-born, the sunshine of the home,
died in her father's arms, smiling full in his face as
she died. He wept like a child, and could never
forget that parting look.
After settling in Boston, business flowed in upon
him, until he earned twenty thousand dollars a
year. He would work hard in the early morning
hours, coming home tired from the courts in the
afternoon. Says a friend, " After dinner, Mr. Web-
ster would throw himself upon the sofa, and then
was seen the truly electrical attraction of his char-
acter. Every person in the room was drawn imme-
diately into his sphere. The children squeezing
themselves into all possible places and postures
upon the sofa, in order to be close to him ; Mrs.
DANIEL WEBSTER. 203
Webster sitting by his side, and the friend or social
visitor only too happy to join in the circle. All
this was not from invitation to the children ; he
did nothing to amuse them, he told them no stories ;
it was the irresistible attraction of his character,
the charm of his illumined countenance, from
which beamed indulgence and kindness to every
one of his family."
Among the celebrated cases which helped Mr.
Webster's renown was the Dartmouth College case
in 1817. The college was originally a charity
school for the instruction of the Indians in the
Christian religion, founded by Rev. Eleazer Whee-
lock. He solicited and obtained subscriptions in
England, the Earl of Dartmouth being a generous
giver. A charter was obtained from the Crown in
1709, appointing Dr. Wheelock president, and em-
powering him to name his successor, subject to the
approval of the trustees. In 1815 a quarrel began
between two opposite political and religious fac-
tions. The Legislature was applied to, which
changed the name from college to university, en-
larged the number of trustees, and otherwise modi-
fied the rights of the corporation under the charter
from England. The new trustees took possession
of the property. The old board brought action
against the new, but the courts of New Hampshire
decided that the acts of the Legislature were con-
stitutional. The case was appealed to Washington,
and on March 10, 1818, Mr. Webster made his
famous speech of over four hours, proving that by
204 DANIEL WEBSTER.
the Constitution of the United States the charter
of an institution is a contract which a State Legis-
lature cannot annul.
In closing he said to the Chief Justice, " This,
sir, is my case. It is the case, not merely of that
humble institution, it is the case of every college in
our land. It is more. It is the case of every elee-
mosynary institution throughout our country — of
all those great charities founded by the piety of
our ancestors, to alleviate human misery and scat-
ter blessings along the pathway of life. It is
more ! It is, in some sense, the case of every man
among us who has property of which he may be
stripped, for the question is simply this : Shall our
State Legislatures be allowed to take that which is
not their own, to turn it from its original use, and
apply it to such ends or purposes as they in their
discretion shall see fit ? Sir, you may destroy this
little institution ; it is weak ; it is in your hands !
I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary
horizon of our country. You may put it out.
But, if you do so, you must carry through your
work ! You must extinguish, one after another,
all those greater lights of science which, for more
than a century, have thrown their radiance over
our land !
" It is, sir, as I have said, a small college. And
yet there are those who love it — "
Here Mr. Webster broke down, overcome by the
recollections of those early days of poverty, and
the self-sacrifice of the dead father. The eyes of
DANIEL WEBSTER. 205
Chief Justice Marshall were suffused with tears, as
were those of nearly all present. When Mr. Web-
ster sat down, for s6me moments the silence was
death-like, and then the people roused themselves
as though awaking from a dream. Nearly seventy
years after this, when the Hon. Mellen Chamberlain,
Librarian of the Boston Public Library, gave his
eloquent address at the dedication of Wilson Hall,
the library building of Dartmouth College, he held
in his hand the very copy of Blackstone from
which Webster quoted in his great argument, with
his autograph on the fly-leaf. Of Webster he said,
" His imagination transformed the soulless body
corporate — the fiction of the king's prerogative —
into a living personality, the object of his filial de-
votion, the beloved mother whose protection called
forth all his powers, and enkindled in his bosom a
quenchless love."
Several years later, Webster won the great case
of Gibbons vs. Ogden, which settled that the State
of New York had no right, under the Constitution,
to grant a monopoly of steam navigation, on its
waters, to Fulton and Livingston.
He now took an active part in the revision of the
Constitution of Massachusetts, helping to do away
with the religious test, that a person holding office
must declare his belief in the Christian religion.
A believer himself, he was unwilling to force his
views upon others. December 22, 1820, he deliv-
ered an oration at Plymouth, commemorating the
two-hundredth anniversary of the landing of the
206 DANIEL WEBSTER.
Pilgrims. It was a grand theme, and the theme
had a master to handle it. He began simply, "Let
us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be
thankful that we have lived to see the bright and
happy breaking of the auspicious morn which
commences the third century of the history of
New England. . . . Forever honored be this, the
place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remembered
the day which saw them, weary and distressed,
broken in everything but spirit, poor in all but
faith and courage, at last secure from the danger of
wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the first
footsteps of civilized man ! "
Then the picture was sketched on a glowing can-
vas;— the noble Pilgrims; the progress of New
England during the century ; the grand government
under which we live and develop, with the Chris-
tian religion for our comfort and our hope. In clos-
ing he said, " The hours of this day are rapidly
flying, and this occasion will soon be passed.
Neither we nor our children can expect to behold
its return. They are in the distant regions of
futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power
of God, who shall stand here, a hundred years
hence, to trace through us their descent from the
Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now surveyed,
the progress of their country during the lapse of a
century. We would anticipate their concurrence
with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our
common ancestors. We would anticipate and par-
take the pleasure with which they will then re-
DANIEL WEBSTER. 207
count the steps of New England's advancement.
On the morning of that day, although it will not
disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation
and gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Plym-
outh, shall be transmitted through millions of the
sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the mur-
murs of the Pacific seas."
The people heard the oration as though en-
tranced. Said Mr. Ticknor, a man of remarkable
culture, " I was never so excited by public speaking
before in my life. Three or four times I thought
my temples would burst with the gush of blood ;
for, after all, you must know that I am aware it is
no connected and compacted whole, but a collection
of wonderful fragments of burning eloquence, to
which his whole manner gave tenfold force. When
I came out I was almost afraid to come near to
him. It seemed to me as if he was like the mount
that might not be touched, and that burned with
fire."
John Adams wrote him, " If there be an Ameri-
can who can read it without tears, I am not that
American. . . . Mr. Burke is no longer entitled to
the praise — the most consummate orator of modern
times. . . . This oration will be read five hundred
years hence with as much rapture as it was heard.
It ought to be read at the end of every century,
and indeed at the end of every year, forever and
ever."
From the day he delivered that oration, Mr. Web-
ster was the leading oratpr of America. From
208 DANIEL WEBSTER.
that day he belonged not to Grace Webster alone,
not to Massachusetts, not to one political party,
but to the people of the United States. Five years
after that, he delivered the address at the laying of
the corner-stone of Bunker Hill monument. Who
does not remember the impassioned words to the
survivors of the Revolution, " Venerable men ! you
have come down to us from a former generation.
Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives
that you might behold this joyous day. You are
now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour,
with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to
shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold,
how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over
your heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but
all else, how changed ! You hear now no roar of
hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke
and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The
ground strewed with the dead and the dying ; the
impetuous charge ; the steady and succussful re-
pulse ; the loud call to repeated assault, the sum-
moning of all that is manly to repeated resistance ;
a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an
instant to whatever of terror there may be in war
and death, — all these you have witnessed, but you
witness them no more. . . . All is peace ; and God
has granted you this sight of your country's happi-
ness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He
has allowed you to behold and to partake the re-
ward of your patriotic toils, and he has allowed us.
vour sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and
DANIEL WEBSTER. 209
in the name of the present generation, in the name
of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you !
" But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the
sword have thinned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam,
Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes
seek for you in vain amidst this broken band. You
are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your
country in her grateful remembrance and your own
bright example."
Who has not read that address delivered at Fan-
euil Hall, Boston, in commemoration of the lives
and services of John Adams and Thomas Jeffer-
son, who died July 4, 1826. Who does not remem-
ber that imaginary speech of John Adams, " Sink
or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my
hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed,
that in the beginning we aimed not at indepen-
dence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our
ends. . . . Sir, I know the uncertainty of human
affairs, but I see, I see clearly through this day's
business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may
not live to see the time when this declaration shall
be made good. We may die, — die colonists, — die
slaves ; — die, it may be, ignominiously and on the
scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure
of Heaven that my country shall require the poor
offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the
appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour
may. But, while I do live, let me have a country,
or at least the hope of a country, and that a free
country."
210 DANIEL WEBS'lER.
Concerning this speech of John Adams, begin-
ning, " Sink or swim, live or die," Mr. Webster
said, " I wrote that speech one morning before
breakfast, in my library, and when it was finished
my paper was wet with my tears." In delivering
this oration, his manuscript lay near him on a small
table, but he did not once refer to it. As far as
possible in his addresses, he preferred Anglo-Saxon
words to those with Latin origin ; therefore, this
great speech is so simple that school-boys the coun-
try over can declaim it and understand it.
In 1823, when Webster was forty-one, Boston
elected him to Congress. He was, of course, widely
known and observed; courtly in physique, impas-
sioned yet calm, easy yet dignified, comprehensive
in thought, a lover of and expounder of the Consti-
tution.
The following year he visited Marshneld, on the
south-east shore of Massachusetts, and saw the
home which he afterward purchased, and which,
with its eighteen hundred acres, became the joy of
his later years. Here he planted flowers and trees.
He would often say to others, " Plant trees, adorn
your grounds, live for the benefit of those who shall
come after you." Here he watched every sunrise
and sunset, every moon rise from new to full, and
grew rested and refreshed by these ever recurring
glimpses of divine power. He said, " I know the
morning ; I am acquainted with it, and I love it,
fresh and sweet as it is, a daily creation, breaking
forth and calling all that have life, and breath, and
DANIEL WEBSTER. 211
being, to new adoration, new enjoyments, and new
gratitude."
Here he enjoyed the ocean as he had enjoyed it
in his boyhood, and years later, when his brain was
tired from overwork, he would exclaim, plaintively,
"Oh, Marshfield! the Sea! the Sea!"
This year also Webster paid a visit to Thomas
Jefferson at Monticello. In his conversation with
the ex-President, he told this story of himself,
which well illustrates the fact that all the knowl-
edge which we can acquire becomes of use to us at
one time or another in life. When a young lawyer
in Portsmouth, a blacksmith brought him a case
under a will. As the case was a difficult one, he
spent one month in the study of it, buying fifty dol-
lars' worth of books to help him in the matter. He
argued the case, won it, and received a fee of fifteen
dollars. Years after, Aaron Burr sent for him to
consult with him on a legal question of consequence.
The case was so similar to that of the blacksmith
that Webster could cite all the points bearing upon
it from the time of Charles II. Mr. Burr was aston-
ished, and suspected he was the counsel for the op-
posite side. Webster received enough compensa-
tion from Burr to cover the loss of time and money
in the former case, and gained, besides, Burr's ad-
miration and respect.
In the winter of 1824, Webster's youngest child,
Charles, died, at the age of two years. Mrs. Web-
ster wrote her absent husband, "I have dreaded
the hour which should destroy your hopes, but
212 DANIEL WEBSTER.
trust you will not let this event afflict you too
much, and that we both shall be able to resign him
without a murmur, happy in the reflection that he
has returned to his Heavenly Father pure as I re-
ceived him. . . . Do not, my dear husband, talk of
your own 'final abode;' that is a subject I never
can dwell on for a moment. With you here, my
dear, I can never be desolate. Oh, may Heaven, in
its mercy, long preserve you ! "
Four years later, " the blessed wife," as he called
her, went to her "final abode." Mr. Webster
watched by her side till death took her. Then at
the funeral, in the wet and cold of that January
day, he walked close behind the hearse, holding
Julia and Fletcher, his two children, by the hand.
Her body was placed beneath St. Paul's Church.
Boston, beside her children. All were removed
afterward to Marshfield.
Webster went back to Washington, having been
made United States senator, but he seemed broken-
hearted, and unable to perform his duties. He
wrote to a friend, " Like an angel of God, indeed.
I hope she is in purity, in happiness, and in immor-
tality ; but I would fain hope that, in kind remem-
brance of those she has left, in a lingering human
sympathy and human love, she may yet be, as God
originally created her, a 'little lower than the an-
gels.' I cannot pursue these thoughts, nor turn
back to see what I have written." Again he wrote,
"I feel a vacuum, an indifference, a want of motive,
which I cannot describe. I hope my children, and
DANIEL WEBSTER. 213
the society of my best friends, may rouse me ; but
I can never see such days as I have seen. Yet I
should not repine ; I have enjoyed much, very
much ; and, if I were to die to-night, I should bless
God most fervently that I have lived."
Judge Story spoke of Mrs. Webster as a sister
with "her kindness of heart, her generous feelings,
her mild and conciliatory temper, her warm and
elevated affections, her constancy, purity, and
piety, her noble disinterestedness, and her excel-
lent sense."
Later, Mr. Webster married Caroline Le Roy,
the daughter of a New York merchant, but no
affection ever effaced from his heart the memory of
Grace Webster, whom he always spoke of as " the
mother of his children."
The next year, 1829, his idolized brother Ezekiel
died suddenly at forty-nine, while he was address-
ing a jury in the court-house at Concord, New
Hampshire.
Daniel Webster said of this shock, " I have felt
but one such in life ; and this follows so soon that
it requires more fortitude than I possess to bear it
with firmness, and, perhaps, as I ought. I am
aware that the case admits no remedy, nor any
present relief ; and endeavor to console myself
with reflecting that I have had much happiness
with lost connections, and that they must expect
to lose beloved objects in this world who have be-
loved objects to lose."
Recently, at the home of Kate Sanborn in New
214 DAS I EL WEHSTER.
York, the grand-niece of Daniel Webster, I met
the sweet-faced wife of Ezekiel, young in her feel-
ings and young in face despite her four-score
years. Here I saw a picture of the great orator in
his youth, the desk on which he wrote, and scores
of mementos of Marshfield and "Elms Farms,"
treasured by the cultivated woman who bears
token of her renowned kinship.
With all these sorrows crowded into Mr. Web-
ster's life, he could not cease his pressing work in
Congress. Andrew Jackson had become President,
and John C. Calhoun had preached his Nullifica-
tion doctrines till South Carolina was ready to sep-
arate herself from the Union, because of her dis-
satisfaction with the tariff laws. Webster had
somewhat changed his views, and had become
a supporter of the " American System " of Henry
Clay, the system of " protection," because he
thought the interests of his constituents demanded
it. For himself, he loved agriculture, but he saw
the need of fostering manufactures if we would
have a great and prosperous country:
On December 29, 1829, Mr. Foote, a senator
from Connecticut, introduced a resolution to in-
quire respecting the sales and surveys of western
lands. In a long debate which followed, General
Hayne of South Carolina took occasion to chastise
New England, in no tender words, for her desire to
build up herself in wealth at the expense of the
West and South. On January 20, Webster made
his first reply to the General, having only a night
DANIEL WEBSTER. 215
in which to prepare his speech. The notes filled
three pages of ordinary letter paper, while the
speech, as reported, filled twenty pages.
Again General Hayne spoke in an able yet per-
sonal manner, asserting the doctrines of nullifica-
tion, and attempting to justify the position of his
State in seceding. Mr. Webster took notes while
he was speaking, but, as the Senate adjourned, his
speech did not come till the following day. Again
he had but a night in which to prepare.
When the morning of January 26 came, the
galleries, floor, and staircase were crowded with
eager men and women. " It is a critical moment,"
said Mr. Bell, of New Hampshire, to Mr. Webster,
" and it is time, it is high time, that the people of
this country should know what this Constitution
is." " Then," answered Webster, " by the blessing
of Heaven they shall learn, this day, before the
sun goes down, what I understand it to be."
When Webster began speaking his words were
slowly uttered. " Mr. President, — When the
mariner has been tossed, for many days, in thick
weather, and on an unknown sea. he naturally
avails himself of the first pause in the storm, the
earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and
ascertain how far the elements have driven him
from his true course. Let us imitate this pru-
dence, and before we float farther on the waves of
this debate, refer to the point from which we de-
parted, that we may at least be able to conjecture
where we now are. I ask for the reading of the
resolution."
216 DANIEL WEBSTER.
And then with trenchant sarcasm, unanswerable
logic, and the intense feeling which belongs to
true oratory. Mr. Webster taught the American
people the strength and holding power of the Con-
stitution, which a civil war, thirty years later,
was to prove unalterably. The speech, which
filled seventy printed pages, came from only five
pages of notes. When asked how long he was in
preparation for the reply to Hayne, he answered,
his " whole life."
How often his loving defence of Massachusetts
has been quoted ! " Mr. President, I shall enter on
no encomiums upon Massachusetts. She needs
none. There she is — behold her, and judge for
yourselves. There is her history : the world knows
it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There
is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bun-
ker Hill, — and there they will remain forever.
The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle
for Independence, now lie mingled with the soil of
every State, from New England to Georgia; and
there they will lie forever. And, sir, where
American liberty raised its first voice, and where
its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still
lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of its
original spirit. If discord and disunion shall
wound it — if party strife and blind ambition shall
hawk at and tear it — if folly and madness, if
uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint,
shall succeed to separate it from that union, by
which alone its existence is made sure, it will
DANIEL WEBSTER. 217
stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in
which its infancy was rocked : it will stretch forth
its arm, with whatever of vigor it may still retain,
over the friends who gather round it ; and it will
fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest
monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot
of its origin.
" When my eyes shall be turned to behold for
the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see
him shining on the broken and dishonored frag-
ments of a once glorious Union; on States dis-
severed, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent
with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in frater-
nal blood ! — Let their last feeble and lingering
glance rather behold the goi-geous ensign of the
republic, now known and honored throughout the
earth, still full high advanced, its arms and tro-
phies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe
erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured —
bearing for its motto no such miserable interroga-
tory as What is all this worth ? Nor those other
words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and
Union afterwards — but everywhere, spread all
over in characters of living light, blazing on all its
ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the
land, and in every wind under the whole heavens,
that other sentiment, dear to every true American
heart — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one
and inseparable ! "
Of course, this reply to Hayne electrified the
country, and Webster began to be mentioned for
218 DANIEL WEBSTER.
the presidential chair. No one who ever heard
him speak, with his wonderful magnetism, his
majestic enthusiasm, his rich, full voice, and his
unsurpassed physique, could ever forget the man,
his words, or his presence. When he visited
Europe, some said, " There goes a king." "NYhen
Sydney Smith saw him, he exclaimed, " Good
Heavens ! he is a small cathedral by himself."
Through Jackson's administration Webster was
his courteous opponent in most measures, but in
the nullification scheme he was heart and hand
with the fearless, self-willed general. When Henry
Clay brought forward his compromise tariff bill,
which pacified the nullifiers, Webster opposed it,
believing that, in the face of this opposition to the
Constitution, concession was unwise.
In 1833, the famous statesman made an extended
journey through the West, and was everywhere
honored and feted. Church-bells were rung, can-
non fired, and houses decorated at his coming.
Great crowds gathered everywhere to hear him
speak.
By this time a party was developing in opposi-
tion to the unusual powers exercised by General
Jackson, whose great victory at New Orleans had
made him the idol of the people. The party was
the more easily formed from the financial troubles
under Van Buren, he having reaped the harvest of
which Jackson had sown the seed. Naturally, Mr.
Webster became the leader of this Whig party, so
called from the Whig party in England, formed to
DANIEL WEBSTER. 219
resist the ultra demands of the king. Massachu-
setts favored him for the presidency. Boston pre-
sented him with a massive silver vase, before an
audience of four thousand persons. Philadelphia
and Baltimore gave him public dinners. Letters
came from various States urging his name upon
the National Convention, which met at Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania, December 4, 1839. But Mr. Web-
ster had been so prominent that his views upon
all public questions were too well known, there-
fore General William Henry Harrison, of Ohio, an
honored soldier of the War of 1812, was chosen, as
being a more " available " candidate.
Webster must have been sorely disappointed, as
were his friends, but he at once began to work
earnestly for his party, spoke constantly at meet-
ings, and helped to elect Harrison, who died one
month after the exciting election, at the age of
sixty-eight. John Tyler, of Virginia, the Vice-
President, succeeded him, and Mr. Webster re-
mained Secretary of State under him, as he had
been under Harrison. Here' the duties were ardu-
ous and complicated.
For many years the north-eastern boundary had
been a matter of dispute between England and the
United States. Bitter feeling had been engendered
also by trouble in Canada in 1837. Several of
those in rebellion had fled from Canada to the
States, had fitted out an American steamboat, the
Carolina, to make incursions into that country.
She was burned by a party of Canadians, and an
220 DANIEL WEBSTER.
American was killed. McLeod, from Canada,
acknowledged himself the slayer, was arrested,
and committed for murder. The British were
angered by this, as were the Americans by the
search of their vessels by British cruisers. Lord
Ashburton was finally sent as a special envoy to
the United States, and largely through the states-
manship of Mr. Webster the Ashburton treaty was
concluded, and war between the nations avoided.
Meantime, President Tyler had vetoed the bill
for establishing another United States Bank, and
thereby set his own party against him. Most of
the cabinet resigned, and although much pressure
was brought by the Whig party upon Mr. Webster,
that he resign also, he remained till the treaty
matter was settled. Then he returned to Marsh-
field, and devoted himself once more to the law.
He had spent lavishly upon his farm ; he had
also bought western land, and lost money by his
investments. He felt obliged to entertain friends,
and this was expensive. Besides, he never kept
regular accounts, often in his generosity gave five
hundred dollars when he should have given but
five, and now found himself embarrassed by debts
which were a source of sorrow to his friends as
well as to himself, and a source of advantage to his
enemies. Thirty-five thousand dollars were now
given him by his admirers, from which he received
a yearly income.
In 1844, the annexation of Texas was a lead-
ing presidential question. Until 1836 she was a
DANIEL WEBSTER. 221
province of Mexico, but in 1835 she resorted to
arms to free herself. On March 6, 1836, a Texan
fort, called the Alamo, was surrounded by eight
thousand Mexicans, led by Santa Anna. The
garrison was massacred. The next month the
battle of San Jacinto was fought, and Texas
became independent. When she asked admission
to the Union, the Democrats favored and the
Whigs opposed, because she would naturally be-
come slave territory. Already, August 30, 1843,
the " Liberty Party " had assembled at Baltimore
and nominated a candidate for the presidency.
The North was becoming agitated on the subject
of slavery, but the Whigs avoided both the sub-
jects of slavery and Texas in their platform, and
nominated as their presidential candidate not Dan-
iel Webster but Henry Clay.
Again Webster worked earnestly for his party
and its nominee, but the Whigs were defeated, as
is usually the case when a party fears to touch the
great questions which public opinion demands.
They learned a lesson when it was too late, and
other political parties should profit by their ex-
ample.
James K. Polk of Tennessee was elected, Texas
was admitted to the Union, and the Mexican War
resulted. War was declared by Congress May 11,
1846, vigorously prosecuted, and Mexico was
defeated. By the terms of the treaty, concluded
February 2, 1848, New Mexico and Upper Califor-
nia were given to the United States,
222 DANIEL WEBSTER.
Webster, who had been returned to the Senate
by Massachusetts, opposed the war as he had the
annexation of Texas. At this time a double
sorrow came to him. His second son, Major
Edward Webster, a young man of fine abilities,
courage, and high sense of honor, died near the
city of Mexico, from disease induced by exposure.
His body arrived in Boston May 4, and, only
three days before, Webster's lovely daughter,
Julia, who had married Samuel Appleton of Bos-
ton, was carried to her grave by consumption.
Her death, at thirty, was beautiful in its resignation
and faith, even though she left five little children
to the care of others. Her last words were, " Let
me go, for the day breaketh," which words were
placed upon her tombstone.
Mr. Webster was indeed crushed by this new
sorrow. He wrote to his friend Mrs. Ticknor, " I
cannot speak of the lost ones ; but I submit to the
will of God. I feel that I am nothing, less even
than the merest dust of the balance ; and that the
Creator of a million worlds, and the judge of all
flesh, must be allowed to dispose of me and
mine as to his infinite wisdom shall seem best."
In 1848, when Mr. Webster was sixty-six, the
presidency once more eluded his grasp by the
nomination of another "available" man, General
Zachary Taylor, one of the heroes of the Mexican
War. Webster had spoken earnestly for Harrison
and Clay ; now he was unwilling longer to work
for the party which had ignored him and nomi-
DANIEL WEBSTER. 223
nated a man whom, though an able soldier, he
thought unfitted for the place as a statesman. If
it was a mistake to show that he was wounded in
spirit, as it undoubtedly was for so great a man, it
was nevertheless human.
The thing which Mr. Webster had feared these
many years was now coming to pass. A violent
agitation of the slavery question in the Territories
was upon the nation. For thirty years slavery had
been odious to the North, and carefully nurtured
by the South. In 1820, when Missouri was ad-
mitted as a State, the North insisted that a clause
prohibiting slavery should be inserted as a condi-
tion of her admission to the Union. Henry Clay
devised the compromise by which slavery was
prohibited in all the new territory lying north of
latitude 36° 30', which was the southern boun-
dary of Missouri. This line was called Mason and
Dixon's line, from the names of the two surveyors
who ran the boundary line between Maryland and
Pennsylvania.
Year by year the hatred of slavery had intensi-
fied at the North. February 1, 1847, David Wil-
inot of Pennsylvania introduced in Congress his
famous proviso, by which slavery was to be ex-
cluded from all territory thereafter acquired or
annexed by the United States. And now, in 1849,
the conflict on the slavery question was more
virulent than ever. California, having framed
a constitution prohibiting slavery, applied for
admission to the Union. New Mexico asked for
224 DANIEL WEBSTER.
a territorial government and for the exclusion of
slavery.
The South claimed that the Missouri Compro-
mise, extending to the Pacific coast, guaranteed the
right to introduce slavery into California and New
Mexico, and threatened secession from the Union.
Again Henry Clay settled the matter, — for a time
only, as it proved, — by his famous Compromise of
1850, by which California was admitted as a free
State, the Territories taken from Mexico left to de-
cide the slavery question as they chose, the slave-
trade abolished in the District of Columbia, more
effectual enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law
demanded, with some other minor provisions.
The Fugitive Slave Law, wrhich provided for the
return of the fugitives without trial by jury, and
expected Christian people to aid the slave-dealers
in capturing their slaves, was especially obnoxious
to the North. Some of the States had passed
" Personal Liberty Bills," punishing as kidnappers
persons who sought to take away alleged slaves.
Mr. Webster saw with dismay all this bitterness,
and knew that the Union which he loved was in
danger. He hoped to avert civil war, perhaps to
still the tumult forever, and so gave his great
heart and brain to the Clay compromise. On
March 7, 1850, he delivered in Congress his famous
speech on the Compromise bill. The Senate cham-
ber was crowded with an intensely excited au-
dience. Mr. Webster discussed the whole history
of slavery, opposed the Wilrnot Proviso, because he
bANIEL WEBSTER. 225
thought every part of the county settled as to
slavery, either by law or nature, — he could not
look into the future and see Kansas, — and then
condemned the course of the North in its resist-
ance to the Fugitive Slave Law, which he held to
be constitutional. The words in reference to re-
storing fugitive slaves created a storm of indigna-
tion at the North, which had looked upon Webster
as a great anti-slavery leader, and who had said in
the oration at Plymouth, " I hear the sound of the
hammer, I see the smoke of the furnaces where
manacles and fetters are still forged for human
limbs. I see the visages of those who, by stealth
and at midnight, labor in this work of hell, foul
and dark, as may become the artificers of such in-
struments of misery and torture. Let that spot be
purified, or let it cease to be of New England.
Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the
Christian world ; let it be put out of the circle of
human sympathies and human regards, and let civ-
ilized man henceforth have no communion with it."
In his speech to Hayne he had said, " I regard
domestic slavery as one of the greatest evils, both
moral and political."
Probably Mr. Webster had not changed his mind
at all in regard to the enormity of slavery, but he
hoped to save the Union from war. He indeed
helped to postpone the conflict, but if the presi-
dency had before this been a possibility to him, it
became now an impossibility forever, and his own
words had done it.
226 DANIEL WEBSTER.
President Taylor died July 9, 1850, when the
discussion of the Compromise matter was at its
height, and Millard Fillmore became President.
He at once made Webster Secretary of State. Mr.
Webster bore bravely the reproaches of the North.
He said, " I cared for nothing, I was afraid of noth-
ing, but I meant to do my duty. Duty performed
makes a man happy ; duty neglected makes a man
unhappy. ... If the fate of John Rogers had
stared me in the face, if I had seen the stake, if I
had heard the fagots already crackling, by the bless-
ing of Almighty God I would, have gone on and
discharged the duty which I thought my country
called upon me to perform."
At the next national Whig convention, General
Winfield Scott was nominated to the presidency.
Multitudes throughout the country were disap-
pointed that Webster was not chosen. Boston gave
him a magnificent reception. Marshfield welcomed
him with a gathering of thousands of people nine
miles from his home, who escorted him thither,
scattering garlands along the way. " I remember
how," says Charles Lanman, " after the crowd had
disappeared, he entered his house fatigued beyond
measure, and covered with dust, and threw himself
into a chair. For a moment his head fell upoii his
breast, as if completely overcome, and he then
looked up like one seeking something he could not
find. It was the portrait of his darling but de-
parted daughter, Julia, and it happened to be in
full view. He gazed upon it for some time in a
DANIEL WEBSTER. 227
kind of trance, and then wept like one whose heart
was broken, and these words escaped his lips, ' Oh,
[ am so thankful to be here. If I could only have
my will, never, never would I again leave this
home ! ' "
Here he was happy. Here he had gathered a
large library, many of his books being on science,
of which he was very fond. Of geology and phys-
ical geography he had made a careful study. Hum-
boldt's " Cosmos " was an especial favorite.
In the spring of 1852, Mr. Webster fell from his
carriage, and from this fall he never entirely recov-
ered. In the fall he made his will, and wrote these
words for his monument, " Lord, I believe ; help
thou mine unbelief. Philosophical argument, es-
pecially that drawn from the vastness of the uni-
verse in comparison with the apparent insignifi-
cance of this globe, has sometimes shaken my rea-
son for the faith that is in me ; but my heart has
assured and reassured me that the Gospel of Jesus
Christ must be a Divine Reality.
" The Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely
human production. This belief enters into the very
depth of my conscience. The whole history of man
proves it."
Mr. Webster had repeatedly given his testimony
in favor of the Christian religion. " Religion," he
said, " is a necessary and indispensable element in
any great human character. There is no living
without it. Religion is the tie that connects man
with his Creator, and holds him to his throne. If
228 DANIEL WEBSTEtt.
that tie be all sundered, all broken, he floats away,
a worthless atom in the universe ; its proper at-
tractions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its
whole future nothing but darkness, desolation, and
death."
Once, at a dinner party of gentlemen, he was
asked by one present, " What is the most important
thought that ever occupied your mind ? "
The reply came slowly and solemnly, " My in-
dividual responsibility to God ! "
When the last of October came, Mr. Webster
was nearing the end of life. About a week before
he died he asked that a herd of his best oxen
might be driven in front of his windows, that he
might see their honest faces and gentle eyes. A
man who thus loves animals must have a tender
heart.
A few hours before Mr. Webster died, he said
slowly, " My general wish on earth has been to do
my Maker's will. I thank him now for all the
mercies that surround me. . . . No man, who is
not a brute, can say that he is not afraid of death.
No man can come back from that bourne ; no man
can comprehend the will or the works of God.
That there is a God all must acknowledge. I see
him in all these wondrous works — himself how
wondrous !
/" The great mystery is Jesus Christ — the Gos-
peL What would the condition of any of us be if
we had not the hope of immortality ? . . . Thank
God, the Gospel of Jesus Christ brought life and
DANIEL WEBSTER. 229
immortality to light, rescued it — brought it to
liyht."J He then began to repeat the Lord's
prayer, saying earnestly, "Hold me up, I do not
wish to pray with a fainting voice."
He longed to be conscious when death came. At
midnight he said, " I still live," his last coherent
words. A little after three he ceased to breathe.
He was buried as he had requested to be, "with-
out the least show or ostentation," on October 29,
1852. The coffin was placed upon the lawn, and
more than ten thousand persons gazed upon the
face of the great statesman. One unknown man,
in plain attire, said as he looked upon him, all un-
conscious that anybody might hear his words,
" Daniel Webster, the world without you will seem
lonesome." Six of his neighbors bore him to his
grave and laid him beside Grace and his children.
When the Civil War came, which Mr. Webster
had done all in his power to avert, it took the last
child out of his family : Fletcher, a colonel of the
Twelfth Massachusetts volunteers, fell in the bat-
tle of August 29, 1862, near Bull Run.
HENRY CLAY.
HENRY CLAY, the " mill-boy of the Slashes,"
was born April 12, 1777, in Hanover
County, Virginia, in a neighborhood called the
"Slashes," from its low, marshy ground. The
seventh in a family of eight children, says Dr.
Calvin Colton, in his " Life and Times of Henry
Clay," he came into the home of Rev. John Clay, a
true-hearted Baptist minister, poor, but greatly
esteemed by all who knew him. Mr. Clay used
often to preach out-of-doors to his impecunious
flock, who, beside loving him for his spiritual
nature, admired his fine voice and manly pres-
ence.
When Henry was four years old the father died,
leaving the wife to struggle for her daily bread,
rich only in the affection which poverty so often
intensifies and makes heroic. She was a devoted
mother, a person of more than ordinary mind, and
extremely patriotic, a quality transmitted to her
illustrious son.
Says Hon. Carl Schurz, in his valuable Life of
Clay, " There is a tradition in the family that,
when the dead body [of the father] was still lying
in the house, Colonel Tarleton, commanding a
230
^^7 f
f*- £r~l£^-
HENRY CLAY. 231
cavalry force under Lord Cornwallis, passed
through Hanover County on a raid, and left a
handful of gold and silver on Mrs. Clay's table as
a compensation for some property taken or de-
stroyed by his soldiers ; but that the spirited
woman, as soon as Tarleton was gone, swept the
money into her apron and threw it into the fire-
place. It would have been in no sense improper,
and more prudent, had she kept it, notwithstanding
her patriotic indignation."
Anxious that her children be educated, Mrs.
Clay sent them to the log school-house in the
neighborhood, to learn reading, writing, and arith-
metic from Peter Deacon, an Englishman, who
seems to have succeeded well in teaching, when
sober. The log house was a small structure, with
earth floor, no windows, and an entrance which
served for continuous ventilation, as there was no
door to keep out cold or heat. Henry had nothing
of consequence to remember of this school save
the marks of a whipping received from Peter Dea-
con when he was angry.
As soon as school hours were over each day, he
had to work to help support the family. Now the
bare-footed boy might be seen ploughing ; now,
mounted on a pony guided by a rope bridle, with a
bag of meal thrown across the horse's back, he
might be seen going from his home to Mrs. Darri-
cott's mill, on the Pamunky River. The people
nicknamed him " The mill-boy of the Slashes," and,
years later, when the same bare-footed, mother-
232 HENRY CLAY.
loving boy was nominated for the presidency, the
term became one of endearment and pride to hun-
dreds of thousands, who knew by experience what
a childhood of toil and hardship meant. He be-
came the idol of the poor not less than of the rich,
because he could sympathize in their privations,
and sympathy is usually born of suffering. Per-
chance we ought to welcome bitter experiences,
for he alone has power who has great sympathy.
After some years of widowhood, Mrs. Clay
married Captain Henry Watkins of Richmond,
Virginia, and, though she bore him seven children,
he did not forget to be a father to the children of
her former marriage. When Henry was fourteen,
Captain Watkins placed him in Richard Denny's
store in Richmond. For a year the boy sold gro-
ceries and dry-goods in the retail store, reading in
every moment of leisure. His step-father thought
rightly that a boy who was so eager to read should
have better advantages, and therefore applied to
his friend, Colonel Tinsley, for a position in the
office of the Clerk of the High Court of Chancery,
the clerk being the brother of the colonel.
" There is no vacancy," said the clerk.
"Never mind," said the colonel, "you must take
him ; " and so he did.
The glad mother cut and made for Henry an ill-
fitting suit of gray "figinny" (Virginia) cloth,
cotton and silk mixed, and starched his linen to a
painful stiffness. When he appeared in the
clejrk's office he was tall and awkward, and the
HENRY CLAY. 233
occupants at the desks could scarcely restrain their
mirth at the appearance of the new-comer. Henry
was put to the task of copying. The clerks wisely
remained quiet, and soon found that the boy was
proud, ambitious, quick, willing to work, and
superior to themselves in common-sense and the
use of language.
Every night when they went in quest of amuse-
ment young Clay went home to read. It could not
have been mere chance which attracted to the
studious, bright boy the attention of George
Wythe, the Chancellor of the High Court of Chan-
cery. He was a rioted and noble man, one of the
signers of the Declaration of Independence, for ten
years teacher of jurisprudence at William and
Mary's College, a man so liberal in his views in
the days of slavery that he emancipated all his
slaves and made provision for their maintenance ;
the same great man in whose office Thomas Jeffer-
son gained inspiration in his youth.
George Wythe selected Clay for his amanuensis
in writing out the decisions of the courts. He
soon became greatly attached to the boy of fifteen,
directed his reading, first in grammatical studies,
and then in legal and historical lines. He read
Homer, Plutarch's Lives, and similar great works.
The conversation of such a man as Mr. Wythe was
to Clay what that of Christopher Gore was to
Daniel Webster, or that of Judge Story to Charles
Sumner. Generally men who have become great
have allied themselves to great men or great prin-
234 HENRY CLAY.
ciples early in life. When Clay had been four
years with the chancellor he naturally decided to
become a lawyer. Poverty did not deter him ;
hard work did not deter him. Those who fear to
labor must not take a step on the road to fame.
Clay entered the office of Attorney-General
Kobert Brooke, a man prominent and able. Here
he studied hard for a year, and was admitted to
the bar, having gained much legal knowledge in
the previous four years. During this year he min-
gled with the best society of Richmond, his own
intellectual ability, courteous manners, and good
cheer making him welcome, not less than the well
known friendship of Chancellor Wythe for him.
Clay organized a debating society, and the "mill-
boy of the Slashes " quite astonished, not only the
members but the public as well, by his unusual
powers of oratory.
The esteem of Kichmond society did not bring
money quickly enough to the enterprising young
man. His parents had removed to Kentucky, and
he decided to go there also, " and grow up with the
country." He was now twenty-one, poor, not as
thoroughly educated as he could have wished, but
determined to succeed, and when one has this de-
termination the battle is half won. That he re-
gretted his lack of early opportunities, a speech
made on the floor of Congress years afterward
plainly showed. In reply to Hon. John Randolph
he said, " The gentleman from Virginia was pleased
to say that in one point, at least, he coincided with
HENRY CLAY. 235
me in an humble estimate of my grammatical and
philological acquisitions. I know my deficiencies.
I was born to no proud patrimonial estate. I in-
herited only infancy, ignorance, and indigence. I
feel my defects. But, so far as my situation in
early life is concerned, I may, without presump-
tion, say it was more my misfortune than my fault.
But, however I regret my want of ability to fur-
nish the gentleman with a better specimen of
powers of verbal criticism, I will venture to say
it is not greater than the disappointment of
this committee as to the strength of his argu-
ment."
When Clay arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, he
found not the polished society of Richmond, but a
genial, warm-hearted, high-spirited race of men and
women, who cordially welcomed the young lawyer
with his sympathetic manner and distinguished air,
the result of an inborn sense of leadership. Soon
after he began to practise law, he joined a debating
society, and, with his usual good-sense, did not take
an active part until he became acquainted with the
members.
One evening, after a subject had been long de-
bated, and the vote was to be taken, Clay, feeling
that the matter was not exhausted, rose to speak.
At first he was embarrassed, and began, " Gentle-
men of the jury ! " The audience laughed. Eoused
to self-control by this mistake, his words came fast
and eloquent, till the people held their breath in
amazement. From that day, Lexington knew that
236 HENRY CLAY.
a young man of brilliancy and power had come
within her borders.
Nearly fifty years later, he said in the same city,
when he retired from public life, " In looking back
upon my origin and progress through life, I have
great reason to be thankful. My father died in 1781,
leaving me an infant of too tender years to retain
any recollection of his smiles or endearments. My
surviving parent removed to this State in 1792,
leaving me, a boy fifteen years of age, in the
office of the High Court of Chancery, in the city of
Richmond, without guardian, without pecuniary
means of support, to steer my course as I might or
could. A neglected education was improved by my
own irregular exertions, without the benefit of sys-
tematic instruction. I studied law principally in
the office of a lamented friend, the late Governor
Brooke, then attorney-general of Virginia, and also
under the auspices of the venerable and lamented
Chancellor Wythe, for whom I had acted as aman-
uensis. I obtained a license to practise the profes-
sion from the judges of the court of appeals of Vir-
ginia, and established myself in Lexington in 1797.
without patrons, without the favor or countenance
of the great or opulent, without the means of pay-
ing my weekly board, and in the midst of a bar un-
commonly distinguished by eminent members. I
remember how comfortable I thought I should be
if I could make one hundred pounds, Virginia
money, per year, and with what delight I received
the first fifteen-shilling fee. My hopes were more
HENRY CLAY. 237
than realized. I immediately rushed into a success-
ful and lucrative practice."
His cases at first were largely criminal. His
first marked case was that of a woman who, in a
moment of passion, shot her sister-in-law. Clay
could not bear to see a woman hanged, and she
heretofore the respected wife of a respected man.
He pleaded " temporary delirium," and saved her
life.
It is said that no murderer ever suffered the ex-
treme penalty of the law who was defended by
Henry Clay. He saved the life of one Willis, ac-
cused of an atrocious murder. Meeting the man
later, he said, "Ah! Willis, poor fellow, I fear I
have saved too many like you who ought to be
hanged." When Clay was public prosecutor, he
took up the case of a slave, much valued for his in-
telligence and honor, who, in the absence of his
owner, had been unmercifully treated by an over-
seer. In self-defence the slave killed the overseer
with an axe. Clay argued that had the deed been
done by a free man it would have been man-
slaughter, but by a slave, who should have sub-
mitted, it was murder. The colored man was
hanged, meeting death heroically. Clay was so
overcome by the painful result of his own unfor-
tunate reasoning that he at once resigned his posi-
tion, and never ceased to be sorry for his connection
with the affair.
Sometimes the ending of a case was ludicrous as
well as pathetic. Two Germans, father and son,
238 HENRY CLAY.
were indicted for murder in the first degree. The
mother and wife were present, and, of course, in-
tensely interested. When Clay obtained the
acquittal of the accused, the old lady rushed
through the crowd, flung her arms around the
neck of the stylish young attorney, and clung to
him so persistently that it was difficult for him to
free himself !
He soon began to engage more exclusively in
civil suits, especially those growing out of the land
laws of Virginia and Kentucky, and quickly acquired
a leading position at the bar. He had already
married, at twenty-two. Lucretia Hart, eighteen
years old, the daughter of Colonel Thomas Hart,
a well known and respected citizen of Lexington.
She was a woman of practical common-sense, de-
voted to him, and a tender mother to their eleven
children, six daughters and five sons.
As soon as Mr. Clay had earned sufficient money
he bought Ashland, an estate of six hundred acres,
a mile and a half south-east from Lexington court-
house. A spacious brick mansion, with flower
gardens and groves, made it in time one of the
most attractive places in the South. Here, later,
Clay entertained Lafayette, Webster, Monroe, and
other famous men from Europe and America.
Mr. Clay began his political life when but
twenty-two. Kentucky, in 1799, in revising her
constitution, considered a project for the gradual
abolition of slavery in the State. Clay was an
ardent advocate of the measure. He wrote in
HENRY CLAY. 239
favor of it in the press, and spoke earnestly in its
behalf in public. He, however, received more
censure than praise for the position he took, but
his conduct was in keeping with his declaration
years later : " I had rather be right than be Pres-
ident."
All his life he rejoiced that he had thus early
favored the abolition of slavery. He said, thirty
years later, " Among the acts of my life which I
look back to with most satisfaction is that of my
having cooperated with other zealous and intelli-
gent friends to procure the establishment of that
system in this State. We were overpowered by
numbers, but submitted to the decision of the
majority with that grace which the minority in a
republic should ever yield to that decision. I
have, nevertheless, never ceased, and shall never
cease, to regret a decision the effects of which have
been to place us in the rear of our neighbors, who
are exempt from slavery, in the state of agriculture,
the progress of manufactures, the advance of im-
provements, and the general progress of society."
From this time Clay spoke on all important
political questions. Once, when he and George
Nicholas had spoken against the alien and sedition
laws of the Federalists, so pleased were the Ken-
tuckians that both speakers were placed in a car-
riage and drawn through the streets, the people
shouting applause. Thus foolishly are persons —
usually young men — willing to be considered
horses through their excitement !
240 UENRT CLAY.
When Clay was twenty-six, so effective had
been his eloquence that he was elected to the
State Legislature. Who would have prophesied
this when he carried meal to Mrs. Darricott's mill !
Reading evenings, when other boys roamed the
streets, had been an important element in this
success ; friendship with those older and stronger
than himself had given maturity of thought and
plan.
When he was thirty he was chosen to the
United States Senate, to fill the unexpired term of
another. At once, despite his youth, he took an
active part in debate, was placed on important
committees, and advocated "internal improve-
ments," as he did all the rest of his life, desiring
always that America become great and powerful.
He was happy in this first experience at the
national capital. He wrote home to his wife's
father: "My reception in this place has been
equal, nay, superior to my expectations. I have
experienced the civility and attention of all I was
desirous of obtaining. Those who are disposed to
flatter me say that I have acquitted myself with
great credit in several debates in the Senate. But,
after all I have seen, Kentucky is still my favorite
country. There amidst my dear family I shall
find happiness in a degree to be met with nowhere
else."
As soon as Clay was home again, Kentucky sent
him to her State Legislature, where he was elected
speaker. Already the conflicts between England
HENRY CLAY. 241
and France under Napoleon had seriously affected
our commerce by the unjust decrees of both
nations. Mr. Clay strongly denounced the Orders
in Council of the British, and praised Jefferson for
the embargo. He urged, also, partly as a retalia-
tory measure, and partly as a measure of self-pro-
tection, that the members of the Legislature wear
only such clothes as were made by our own manu-
facturers. Humphrey Marshall, a strong Federalist,
and a man of great ability, denounced this resolu-
tion as the work of a demagogue. The result was
a duel, in which, after Clay and Marshall were
both slightly wounded, the seconds prevented
further bloodshed. Once before this Clay had
accepted a challenge, and the duel was prevented
only by the interference of friends. Had death
resulted at either time, America would have missed
from her record one of the brightest and fairest
names in her history.
When Clay was thirty-three he was again sent
to the Senate of the United States, to fill an unex-
pired term of two years. At the end of that time
Kentucky was too proud of him to allow his
returning to private life. He was therefore elected
to the House of Representatives, and took his seat
November 4, 1811. He was at once chosen
speaker, an honor conferred for seven terms, four-
teen years.
" Henry Clay stands," says Carl Schurz, " in the
traditions of the House of Representatives as the
greatest of its speakers. His perfect mastery of
242 HENRY CLAY.
parliamentary law, his quickness of decision in
applying it, his unfailing presence of mind and
power of command in moments of excitement and
confusion, the courteous dignity of his bearing, are
remembered as unequalled by any one of those who
had preceded or who have followed him."
Here in the excitement of debate he was happy.
He could speak at will against the British, who had
seized more than nine hundred American ships, and
the French more than five hundred and fifty.
When several thousand Americans had been im-
pressed as British seamen, the hot blood of the
Kentuckian demanded war. He said in Congress,
" We are called upon to submit to debasement, dis-
honor, and disgrace ; to bow the neck to royal in-
solence, as a course of preparation for manly re-
sistance to Gallic invasion ! What nation, what
individual was ever taught in the schools of igno-
minious submission these patriotic lessons of free-
dom and independence ? . . . An honorable peace
is attainable only by an efficient war. My plan
would be to call out the ample resources of the
country, give them a judicious direction, prosecute
the war with the utmost vigor, strike wherever we
can reach the enemy, at sea or on land, and nego-
tiate the terms of a peace at Quebec or at Halifax.
We are told that England is a proud and lofty na-
tion, which, disdaining to wait for danger, meets it
half way. Haughty as she is, we once triumphed
over her, and, if we do not listen to the counsels of
timidity and despair, we shall again prevail. In
HENRY CLAY. 243
such a cause, with the aid of Providence, we must
come out crowned with success ; but if we fail,
let us fail like men, lash ourselves to our gal-
lant tars, and expire together in one common
struggle, fighting for FREE TRADE AND SEAMEN'S
RIGHTS."
The War of 1812 came, even though New Eng-
land strongly opposed it. The country was poorly
prepared for a great contest by land or by sea, but
Clay's enthusiasm seemed equal to a dozen armies.
He cheered every regiment by his hope and his
patriotism. When defeats came at Detroit and in
Canada, Josiah Quincy of Massachusetts, leader of
the Federalists, said, " Those must be very young
politicians, their pin-feathers not yet grown, and,
however they may flutter- on this floor, they are not
fledged for any high or distant flight, who think
that threats and appealing to fear are the ways of
producing any disposition to negotiate in Great
Britain, or in any other nation which understands
what it owes to its own safety and honor."
Clay answered in a two-days speech that was
never forgotten. He scourged the Federalists with
stinging words : " Sir, gentlemen appear to me to
forget that they stand on American soil ; that they
are not in the British House of Commons, but in
the chamber of the House of Representatives of the
United States ; that we have nothing to do with
the affairs of Europe, the partition of territory and
sovereignty there, except so far as these things af-
fect the interests of our own country. Gentlemen
244 HENRY CLAY.
transform themselves into the Burkes, Chathams,
and Pitts of another country, and forgetting, from
honest zeal, the interests of America, engage with
European sensibility in the discussion of European
interests. ... I have no fears of French or Eng-
lish subjugation. If we are united we are too pow-
erful for the mightiest nation in Europe, or all
Europe combined. If we are separated and torn
asunder, we shall become an easy prey to the weak-
est of them. In the latter dreadful contingency,
our country will not be worth preserving.
" The war was declared because Great Britain ar-
rogated to herself the pretension of regulating our
foreign trade, under the delusive name of retaliatory
orders in council — a pretension by which she un-
dertook to proclaim to American enterprise, ' Thus
far shalt thou go, and no further ' — orders which
she refused to revoke, after the alleged cause of
their enactment had ceased ; because she persisted
in the practice of impressing American seamen ;
because she had instigated the Indians to commit
hostilities against us ; and because she refused in-
demnity for her past injuries upon our commerce.
I throw out of the question other wrongs. The
war in fact was announced on our part to meet the
war which she was waging on her part."
The speech electrified the country. The army
was increased, the nation encouraged, and the war
carried to a successful issue. Such a power had
Clay become that Madison talked of making him
commander-in-chief of the army, but Gallatin dis-
HENRY CLAY. 245
suaded him, saying, "What shall we do without
Clay in Congress ? "
When the war was nearing its end — before
Jackson had fought his famous battle at New Or-
leans — and a treaty of peace was to be effected,
the President appointed five commissioners to con-
fer with the British government : John Quincy
Adams, Clay, Bayard, Jonathan Russell, Minister
to Sweden, and Albert Gallatin.
They reached Ghent, in the Netherlands, July 6,
1814, a company of earnest men, not always in ac-
cord, but desirous of accomplishing the most possi-
ble for America. Adams was able, courageous, ir-
ritable, and sometimes domineering; Clay, impet-
uous, spirited, genial, making friends of the Brit-
ish commissioners as they played at whist — he
never allowed cards to come into his home at Ash-
land ; Gallatin, discreet, a peace-maker, and digni-
fied counsellor.
For five months the commissioners argued, waited
to see if their respective countries would accede to
the terms proposed, and finally settled an honora-
ble peace. Then Clay, Adams, and Gallatin spent
three months in London negotiating a treaty of
commerce. Clay had meantime heard of the battle
of New Orleans, and said, " Now I can go to Eng-
land without mortification." In Paris he met Ma-
dame de Stael. "I have been in England," said
she, " and have been battling for your cause there.
They were so much enraged against you that at
one time they thought seriously of sending the
246 HENRY CLAY.
Duke of Wellington to lead their armies against
you."
" I am very sorry," replied Clay, " that they did
not send the duke."
" And why ? " she asked.
"Because if he had beaten us, we should have
been in the condition of Europe, without disgrace.
But if we had been so fortunate as to defeat him,
we should have greatly added to the renown of our
arms."
When Clay returned to America, he was wel-
comed in New York and Lexington with public
dinners. That the war had produced good results
was well stated in his Lexington address. " Abroad,
our character, which, at the time of its declaration,
was in the lowest state of degradation, is raised to
the highest point of elevation. It is impossible for
any American to visit Europe without being sensi-
ble of this agreeable change in the personal atten-
tions which he receives, in the praises which are
bestowed on our past exertions, and the predic-
tions which are made as to our future prospects.
At home, a government, which, at its formation, was
apprehended by its best friends, and pronounced
by its enemies to be incapable of standing the
shock, is found to answer all the purposes of its
institution."
Clay was now famous ; commanding in presence,
with a winsome rather than handsome face, exuber-
ant in spirits, generous by nature, polite to the
poorest, self-possessed, with a voice unsurpassed, if
HENRY CLAY. 247
ever equalled, for its musical tone ; a man who
made friends everywhere and among all classes,
and never lost them; who was always a gentle-
man, because always kind at heart. Manner,
which Emerson calls the " finest of the fine arts,"
gave Clay the " mastery of palace and fortune "
wherever he went. That voice and hand-grasp,
that remembrance of a face and a name, won him
countless admirers.
President Madison offered him the mission to
Eussia, which he declined, as also a place in the
Cabinet, as Secretary of War, preferring to speak
on all those matters which helped to build up
America. On the question of the United States
Bank he made a strong speech against its constitu-
tionality, which Andrew Jackson said later was his
most convincing authority when he destroyed the
bank. Clay's views changed in after years, and
made him at bitter enmity with Andrew Jackson
and John Tyler, both of whom vigorously opposed
a bank, with its vast capital and consequent power
in politics.
Clay's desire for the rapid development of Amer-
ica led him to become a " protectionist," and the
leader of the so-called "American system," as
opposed to Free Trade or the Foreign System.
He believed that only as we encourage our own
manufactures can we become a powerful nation,
paying high wages, shutting out the products of
the cheap labor of Europe, increasing our home
market, and becoming independent of the foreign
248 HENRY CLAY.
market. Clay's speeches were read the country
over, and won him thousands of followers.
Like others in public life, he now and then gave
offence to his constituents. He had voted for a
bill to increase the pay of members of Congress
from six dollars a day to a salary of fifteen hun-
dred dollars a year. To the farmers of Kentucky
this amount seemed far too great. He one day met
an old hunter who had always voted for him, but
was now determined to vote against a man so
extravagant in his ideas !
"My friend," said Clay, "have you a good
rifle ? "
"Yes."
" Did it ever flash ? "
"Yes; but only once."
"What did you do with the rifle when it
flashed ? — throw it away ? "
" No ; I picked the flint, tried again, and brought
down the game."
" Have I ever flashed, except upon the compen-
sation bill ? "
" No."
" Well, will you throw me away ? "
" No, Mr. Clay ; I will pick the flint and try you
again."
Mr. Clay was returned to Congress, and voted
for the repeal of the fifteen hundred dollar salary.
The subject which was to surpass all other sub-
jects in interest, and well-nigh destroy the Union,
was coming into prominence — slavery. Henry
HENRY CLAY. 249
Clay, from a boy, when George Wythe, the Vir-
ginia chancellor, freed his slaves, had looked upon
human bondage as a curse. He used to say, " If I
could be instrumental in eradicating this deepest
stain from the character of our country, and re-
moving all cause of reproach on account of it, by
foreign nations ; if I could only be instrumental in
ridding of this foul blot that revered State that
gave me birth, or that not less beloved State which
kindly adopted me as her son, I would not ex-
change the proud satisfaction which I should
enjoy for the honor of all the triumphs ever
decreed to the most successful conqueror.
" When we consider the cruelty of the origin of
negro slavery, its nature, the character of the
free institutions of the whites, and the irre-
sistible progress of public opinion throughout
America, as well as in Europe, it is impossible
not to anticipate frequent insurrections among the
blacks in the United States ; they are rational beings
like ourselves, capable of feeling, of reflection,
and of judging of what naturally belongs to them
as a portion of the human race. By the very con-
dition of the relation which subsists between us,
we are enemies of each other. They know well
the wrongs which their ancestors suffered at the
hands of our ancestors, and the wrongs which they
believe they continue to endure, although they
may be unable to avenge them. They are kept in
250 HENRY CLAY.
subjection only by the superior intelligence and
superior power of the predominant race."
At the North, anti-slavery sentiments had inten-
sified ; at the South, where slavery was at first re-
garded as an evil, the consequent ease and wealth
from slave labor had changed public opinion, and
had made the people jealous of northern discussion.
Through the invention of the cotton-gin, by Eli
Whitney, the value of cotton exports had quadru-
pled in twenty years, and the value of slaves had
trebled. Comparatively good feeling was main-
tained by the two sections of the country as long
as for every slave State admitted to the Union a
free State was also admitted.
In 1818, the people of Missouri desired to be ad-
mitted to the Union. Mr. Tallmadge of New
York proposed that the further introduction of
slavery should be prohibited, and that all children
born within the said State should be free at the age
of twenty-five years. The discussion grew strong
and bitter. Two years later the inhabitants of the
State proceeded to adopt a constitution which for-
bade free negroes from coming into the territory or
settling in it. The discussion grew more bitter
still. Threats of disunion and civil war were
heard. Jefferson wrote from his Monticello home,
" The Missouri question is the most portentous one
that ever threatened the Union. In the gloomiest
moments of the Revolutionary War I never had
any apprehension equal to that I feel from this
source."
HENRY CLAY. 251
A senator from Illinois, Mr. Thomas, proposed
that no restriction as to slavery be imposed upon
Missouri, but that in all the rest of the territory
ceded by France to the United States, north of 36°
30', this being the southern boundary of Missouri,
there should be no slavery. Then Mr. Clay, with
his intense love for the Union, bent all his energies
to effect this compromise suggested by Thomas.
He spoke earnestly in its behalf, and went from
member to member, persuading and beseeching
with all his genius and winsomeness. When Clay
had effected the passage of the bill, the "great
pacificator " became more beloved than ever. He
had saved the Union, and now was talked of as the
successor to President Monroe.
Clay was now forty-seven, the polished orator,
the consummate leader, one of the great trio whom
all visitors to Washington wished to look upon:
Clay, Webster, and Calhoun. Kentucky was ear-
nest in her support of Clay as President.
When the time came for voting, six candidates
were before the people : John Quincy Adams,
Jackson, Clay, Calhoun, Clinton of New York, and
Crawford of Georgia. Hon. Thomas H. Benton of
Missouri was an ardent supporter of Clay, and
travelled over several States speaking in his be-
half.
Clay was anxious for the position, but would do
nothing unworthy to obtain it. He wrote to a
friend, " On one resolution, my friends may rest as-
sured, I will firmly rely, and that is, to participate
252 HENRY CLAY.
in no intrigue, to enter into no arrangements, to
make no promises or pledges ; but that, whether I
am elected or not, I will have nothing to reproach
myself with. If elected, I will go into the office
with a pure conscience, to promote with my utmost
exertions the common good of our country, and free
to select the most able and faithful public seTvants.
If not elected, acquiescing most cheerfully in the
better selection which will thus have been made, I
will at least have the satisfaction of preserving my
honor unsullied and my heart uncorrupted.''
After the vote had been taken, as no candidate
received a clear majority, the election necessarily
went to the House of Representatives. Though
Jackson received the most electoral votes, Clay,
not friendly to him, used his influence for Adams
and helped obtain his election. Clay was, of
course, bitterly censured by the followers of Jack-
son, and when Adams made him Secretary of
State the cry of " bargain and sale " was heard
throughout the country. Though both Adams and
Clay denied any promise between them, the Jack-
son men believed, or professed to believe it, and
helped in later years to spoil his presidential suc-
cess. Adams said, " As to my motives for tender-
ing him the Department of State when I did, let
the man who questions them come forward. Let
him look around among the statesmen and legisla-
tors of the nation and of that day. Let him then
select and name the man whom, by his preeminent
talents, by his splendid services, by his ardent pa-
HENRY CLAY. 253
triotism, by his all-embracing public spirit, by his
fervid eloquence in behalf of the rights and liber-
ties of mankind, by his long experience in the
affairs of the Union, foreign and domestic, a Presi-
dent of the United States, intent only upon the
honor and welfare of his country, ought to have
preferred to Henry Clay."
Returning to Kentucky before taking the posi-
tion of Secretary of State, his journey thither was
one constant ovation. Public dinners were given
him in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. In the
midst of this prosperity, sorrow laid her hand
heavily upon the great man's heart. His children
were his idols. They obeyed him because they
loved him and were proud of him. Lucretia,
named for her mother, a delicate and much be-
loved daughter, died at fourteen. Eliza, a most
attractive girl, with her father's magnetic manners,
died on their journey to Washington. A few days
after her death, another daughter, Susan Hart, then
Mrs. Durolde of New Orleans, died, at the age of
twenty.
There was work to be done for the country, and
Mr. Clay tried to put away his sorrow that he
might do his duty. As Secretary of State he
helped to negotiate treaties with Prussia, Den-
mark, Austria, Russia, and other nations. The
opposition to Adams and Clay became intense.
The Jackson party felt itself defrauded. John
Randolph of Virginia was an outspoken enemy,
closing a scathing speech with the words, " by the
254 HENRY CLAY.
coalition of Blifil and Black George — by the
combination, unheard of till then, of the Puritan
with the blackleg.7'
Clay was indignant, and sent Randolph a chal-
lenge, which he accepted. On the night before the
duel, Randolph told a friend that he had deter-
mined not to return Clay's fire. " Nothing," he
said, " shall induce me to harm a hair of his head.
I will not make his wife a widow and his children
orphans. Their tears would be shed over his
grave ; but when the sod of Virginia rests on my
bosom, there is not in this wide world one individ-
ual to pay this tribute upon mine."
The two men met on the banks of the Potomac,
near sunset. Clay fired and missed his adversary,
while Randolph discharged his pistol in the air.
As soon as Clay perceived this he came forward
and exclaimed, " I trust in God, my dear sir, that
you are unhurt ; after what has occurred, I would
not have harmed you for a thousand worlds.'
Years afterward,' a short time before Randolph's
death, as he was on his way to Philadelphia,
he stopped in Washington, and was carried into
the Senate chamber during its all-night session.
Clay was speaking. " Hold me up," he said
to his attendants ; " / have come to hear that
voice."
At the presidential election of 1828 Andrew
Jackson was the successful candidate, and Clay
retired to his Ashland farm, where he took espe-
cial delight in his fine horses, cattle, and sheep.
HENEY CLAY. 255
But he was soon returned to the Senate by his
devoted State.
The tariff question was now absorbing the public
mind. The South, under Calhoun's leadership, had
been opposed to protection, which they believed
aided northern manufacturers at the expense of
southern agriculturists. When the tariff bill of
1832 was passed, and South Carolina talked of
nullification and secession, Clay said : " The great
principle which lies at the foundation of all free
government is that the majority must govern, from
which there can be no appeal but the sword. That
majority ought to govern wisely, equitably, moder-
ately, and constitutionally ; but govern it must,
subject only to that terrible appeal. If ever one
or several States, being a minority, can, by mena-
cing a dissolution of the Union, succeed in forcing
an abandonment of great measures deemed essen-
tial to the interests and prosperity of the whole, the
Union from that moment is practically gone. It
may linger on in form and name, but its vital
spirit has fled forever."
South Carolina passed her nullification ordi-
nance, and prepared to resist the collection of
revenues at Charleston. Then Jackson, with his
undaunted courage and indomitable will, ordered
a body of troops to South Carolina, and threatened
to hang Calhoun and his milliners as "high as
Haman."
Then the " great pacificator " came forward to
heal the wounds between North and South, and
256 HENRY CLAY.
preserve the Union. He prepared his "Compro-
mise Bill," which provided for a gradual reduction
of duties till the year 1842, when twenty per cent,
at a home valuation should become the rate on
dutiable goods. He spent much time and thought
on this bill, visiting the great manufacturers of the
country, and urging them to accede for the sake of
peace.
After this bill passed he was more esteemed
than ever. He visited by request the Northern
and Eastern States, and spoke to great gatherings
of people in nearly all the large cities. A platform
having been erected on the heights of Bunker Hill,
Edward Everett addressed him in the presence of
an immense audience, and Clay responded with his
usual eloquence. The young men of Boston pre-
sented him a pair of silver pitchers, weighing one
hundred and fifty ounces. The young men of
Troy, New York, gave him a superbly mounted
rifle. Other cities made him expensive presents.
After the first four years of Jackson's " reign,"
as it was called by those who deprecated the
unusual power held by the executive, Clay was
again nominated for the presidency by the Whigs,
and again defeated, Jackson receiving two hundred
and nineteen electoral votes and Clay only forty-
nine.
Again in 1840, after the four years' term of Van
Buren, the protege of Jackson, all eyes turned
toward Clay as the coming President. But already
he had been twice the nominee and been twice
HENRY CLAY. 257
defeated. The anti-slavery element had become
a serious factor in party plans. The secretary of
the American Anti-Slavery Society in New York
wrote Clay : " I should consider the election of
a slave-holder to the presidency a great calamity to
the country." The slave-holders meantime de-
nounced Clay as an abolitionist.
When the Whig national convention met, De-
cember 4, 1839, they chose, not Clay, but General
William Henry Harrison, a good man and a suc-
cessful soldier, but a very different man from the
popular Clay. The statesman was sorely disap-
pointed. " I am," he said, " the most unfortunate
man in the history of parties : always run by my
friends when sure to be defeated, and now betrayed
for a nomination when I or any one would be sure
of an election."
His friends throughout the country were grieved
and indignant. But Clay supported with all his
power the true-hearted old soldier, who, when
elected, offered him the first place in the Cabinet,
which was declined. Harrison died a month after
his inauguration, and John Tyler became Presi-
dent. Clay and Tyler differed constantly, till
Clay determined to retire from the Senate. He
said : " I want rest, and my private affairs want
attention. Nevertheless, I would make any per-
sonal sacrifice if, by remaining here, I could do any
good; but my belief is I can effect nothing, and
perhaps my absence may remove an obstacle to
something being done by others." When it became
258 HENRY CLAY.
known that Clay would make a farewell address,
the Senate chamber was crowded.
He spoke of his long career of public service.
and the memorable scenes they had witnessed to-
gether. His feelings nearly overcame him as he
said : " I emigrated from Virginia to the State of
Kentucky now nearly forty-five years ago ; 1 went
as an orphan boy who had not yet attained the
age of majority, who had never recognized a father's
smile nor felt his warm caresses, poor, penniless,
without the favor of the great, with an imperfect
and neglected education, hardly sufficient for the
ordinary business and common pursuits of life ;
but scarce had I set foot upon her generous soil
when I was embraced with parental fondness, ca-
ressed as though I had been a favorite child, and
patronized with liberal and unbounded munifi-
cence. From that period the highest honors of the
State have been freely bestowed upon me ; and
when, in the darkest hour of calumny and detrac-
tion, I seemed to be assailed by all the rest of the
world, she interposed her broad and impenetrable
shield, repelled the poisoned shafts that were
aimed for my destruction, and vindicated my good
name from every malignant and unfounded asper-
sion. I return with indescribable pleasure to
linger a while longer, and mingle with the warm-
hearted and whole-souled people of that State :
and, when the last scene shall forever close upon
me, I hope that my earthly remains will be laid
under her green sod with those of her gallant and
patriotic sons."
HENRY CLAY. 259
When Clay reached Lexington he was welcomed
like a prince. A great public feast was given in
his honor. In his speech to the people he said :
"I have been accused of ambition, often accused
of ambition. If to have served my country during
a long series of years with fervent zeal and un-
shaken fidelity, in seasons of peace and war, at
home and abroad, in the legislative halls and in an
executive department ; if to have labored most
sedulously to avert the embarrassment and dis-
tress which now overspread this Union, and, when
they came, to have exerted myself anxiously, at
the extra session and at this, to devise healing
remedies ; if to have desired to introduce economy
and reform in the general administration, curtail
enormous executive power, and amply provide, at
the same time, for the wants of the government
and the wants of the people, by a tariff which
would give it revenue and then protection ; if to
have earnestly sought to establish the bright but
too rare example of a party in power faithful to
its promises and pledges made when out of power,
— if these services, exertions, and endeavors
justify the accusation of ambition, I must plead
guilty to the charge.
" I have wished the good opinion of the world ;
but I defy the most malignant of my enemies to
show that I have attempted to gain it by any low
or grovelling acts, by any mean or unworthy sacri-
fices, by the violation of any of the obligations of
honor, or by a breach of any of the duties which I
owed to my country."
260 HENRY CLAY.
In 1844, at the^Whig convention at Baltimore,
May 1, Clay was unanimously nominated for the
presidency, with a great shout that shook the
building. It seemed as though his hour of tri-
umph had come at last. James K. Polk was the
Democratic nominee. Another party now appeared,
the "Liberty Party," with James G. Birney of
Kentucky as its candidate. . He was an able law-
yer, and a man who had liberated his slaves
through principle. The contest was one of the
most acrimonious in our national history. Texas
was clamoring for admission to the Union, with
the Mexican War sure to result. The Whigs
feared to commit themselves on the slavery ques-
tion. When the votes were counted Birney had
received over sixty-two thousand, enough to throw
the election into the hands of the Democrats. The
abolitionists had done what they were willing to
do, — bury the WThig party, that from its grave
might arise another party, which should fearlessly
grapple with slavery, and they accomplished their
desire, when, in 1860, the Kepublican party made
Abraham Lincoln President.
The disappointment to Mr. Clay was extreme,
but he bore it bravely. His friends all over the
country seemed broken-hearted. Letters of sor-
row poured into Ashland. "I write," said one,
" with an aching heart, and ache it must. God
Almighty save us ! Although our hearts are
broken and bleeding, and our bright hopes are
crushed, we feel proud of our candidate. God
HENRY CLAY. 261
bless you ! Your countrymen do bless you. All
know how to appreciate the man who has stood in
the first rank of American patriots. Though un-
known to you, you are by no means a stranger to
me." Another wrote : '•' I have buried a revolu-
tionary father, who poured out his blood for his
country; I have followed a mother, brothers, sis-
ters, and children to the grave ; and, although I
hope I have felt, under all these afflictions, as a
son, a brother, and a father should feel, yet noth-
ing has so crushed me to the earth, and depressed
my spirits, as the result of our late political con-
test."
" Permit me, a stranger, to address you. From
my boyhood I have loved no other American states-
man so much except Washington. I write from
the overflowing of my heart. I admire and love you
more than ever. If I may never have the happi-
ness of seeing you on earth, may I meet you in
heaven."
A lady wrote, " I had indulged the most joyous
anticipations in view of that political campaign
which has now been so ingloriously ended. I con-
sidered that the nation could never feel satisfied un-
til it had cancelled, in some degree, the onerous
obligations so long due to its faithful and distin-
guished son."
Another lady wrote, " My mind is a perfect
chaos when I dwell upon the events which have
occurred within the last few weeks. My heart re-
fused to credit the sad reality. Had I the elo-
262 HENRY CLAY.
quence of all living tongues, I could not shadow
forth the deep, deep sorrow that has thrilled
iny inmost soul. The bitterest tears have flowed
like rain-drops from my eyes. Never, till now,
could I believe that truth and justice would not
prevail."
A lady in Maryland, ninety-three years old,
wrought for Clay a counterpane of almost num-
berless pieces. New York friends sent a silver
vase three feet high. The ladies of Tennessee sent
a costly vase. Tokens of affection came from all
directions. But the grief was so great that in
some towns business was almost suspended, while
the people talked " of the late blow that has fallen
upon our country."
Other troubles were pressing upon Mr. Clay's
heart. By heavy expenditures and losses through
his sons, his home had become involved to the ex-
tent of fifty thousand dollars. The mortgage was
to be foreclosed, and Henry Clay would be penni-
less. A number of friends had learned these facts,
and sent him the cancelled obligation. He was
overcome by this proof of affection, and exclaimed,
"Had ever any man such friends or enemies as
Henry Clay ! "
Two years later, his favorite son, Colonel Henry
Clay, was killed under General Taylor, in the bat-
tle of Buena Vista. "My life has been full of
domestic affliction," said the father, " but this last
is the severest among them." A few years before,
while in Washington, a brilliant and lovely married
HENEY CLAY. 268
daughter had died. When Mr. Clay opened the
letter and read the sad news, he fainted, and re-
mained in his room for days.
Mr. Clay was now seventy years old. Chastened
by sorrow, he determined to unite with the Episco-
pal Church. Says one who was present in the
little parlor at Ashland, " When the minister en-
tered the room on this deeply solemn and interest-
ing occasion, the small assembly, consisting of the
immediate family, a few family connections, and
the clergyman's wife, rose up. In the middle of
the room stood a large centre-table, on which was
placed, filled with water, the magnificent cut-glass
vase presented to Mr. Clay by some gentlemen of
Pittsburg. On one side of the room hung the
large picture of the family of Washington, him-
self an Episcopalian by birth, by education, and a
devout communicant of the church ; and immedi-
ately opposite, on a side-table, stood the bust of the
lamented Harrison, with a chaplet of withered
flowers hung upon his head, who was to have been
confirmed in the church the Sabbath after he died,
— fit witnesses of such a scene. Around the room
were suspended a number of family pictures, and
among them the portrait of a beloved daughter,
who died some years ago, in the triumphs of that
faith which her noble father was now about to em-
brace; and the picture of the late lost son, who
fell at the battle of Buena Vista. Could these
silent lookers-on at the scene about transpiring
have spoken from the marble and the canvas, they
264 HEX BY CLAY.
would heartily have approved the act which dedi-
cated the great man to God."
In 1848, Clay was again talked of for the presi-
dency, but the party managers considered General
Taylor, of the Mexican War, a more available candi-
date, and he was nominated and elected. Clay was
again unanimously chosen to the Senate for six
years from March 4, 1849. Seven years before, he
had said farewell. Now, at seventy-two, he was
again to debate great questions, and once more save
the nation from disruption and civil war, — for a
time ; he hoped, for all time.
The territory obtained from Mexico became a
matter of contention as to whether it should be
slave territory or not. California asked to be ad-
mitted to the Union without slavery. The North
favored this, while the South insisted that the
Missouri Compromise of 1820, which forbade slav-
ery north of 36° 30', if continued to the Pacific
Ocean, would entitle them to California. Already
the Wilmot Proviso, which sought to exclude slavery
from all territory hereafter acquired by the United
States, had aroused bitter feeling at the South.
Clay, loving the Union beyond all things else,
thought out his compromise of 1850. As he
walked up to the Capitol to make his last great
speech upon the measure, he said to a friend accom-
panying him, " Will you lend me your arm ? I
feel myself quite weak and exhausted this morn-
ing." The friend suggested that he postpone his
speech.
HENRY CLAY. 265
" I consider our country in danger," replied
Clay ; "• and if I can be the means in any measure
of averting that danger, rny health and life are of
little consequence."
Great crowds had come from Philadelphia, New
York, Boston, and elsewhere to hear the speech,
which occupied two days. He said : " War and
dissolution of the Union are identical ; they are
convertible terms ; and such a war ! ... If the
two portions of the confederacy should be involved
in civil war, in which the effort on the one side
would be to restrain the introduction of slavery
into the new territories, and, on the other side, to
force its introduction there, what a spectacle should
we present to the contemplation of astonished
mankind ! An effort to propagate wrong ! It
would be a war in which we should have no sym-
pathy, no good wishes, and in which all mankind
would be against us, and in which our own history
itself would be against us."
For six months the measure was debated. Clay
came daily to the Senate chamber, so ill he could
scarcely walk, but determined to save the Union.
" Sir," said the grand old man, " I have heard some-
thing said about allegiance to the South. I know
no South, no iSTorth, no East, no West, to which I
owe any allegiance. . . . Let us go to the fountain
of unadulterated patriotism, and, performing a
solemn lustration, return divested of all selfish,
sinister, and sordid impurities, and think alone of
our God, our country, our conscience, and our
266 HENRY CLAY.
glorious Union. ... If Kentucky to-morrow un-
furls the banner of resistance unjustly, I never will
fight under that banner. I owe a paramount alle-
giance to the whole Union, — a subordinate one to
my own State. When my State is right, when it
has a cause for resistance, when tyranny and
wrong and oppression insufferable arise, I will
then share her fortunes ; but if she summons me
to the battlefield, or to support her in any cause
which is unjust against the Union, never, never
will I engage with her in such a cause ! "
Finally the Compromise Bill of 1850 was sub-
stantially adopted. Among its several provisions
were the admission of California as a free State,
the abolition of the slave-trade in the District of
Columbia, the organization of the Territories of
New Mexico and Utah without conditions as to
slavery, and increased stringency of the Fugutive
Slave Laws.
Mr. Clay's hopes as to peace seemed for a few
brief months to be realized. Then the North, ex-
asperated by the provisions of the Fugutive Slave
Bill, by which all good citizens were required to
aid slave-holders in capturing their fugitive slaves,
began to resist the bill by force. Clay could do no
more. He must have foreseen the bitter end.
Worn and tired, he went to Cuba to seek restora-
tion of health.
In 1852 he was urged to allow his name to be
used again for the presidency. It was too late
now. He returned to Washington at the opening
HENRY CLAY. 267
of the thirty-second Congress, but he entered the
Senate chamber but once. During the spring,
devoted friends and two of his sons watched by his
bedside. He said : " As the world recedes from
me, I feel my affections more than ever concen-
trated on my children and theirs."
The end came peacefully, June 29, 1852, when he
was seventy-six. On July 1 the body lay in state
in the Senate chamber, and was then carried to
Lexington. In all the principal cities through
which the cortege passed, Baltimore, Philadelphia,
New York, Albany, Buffalo, Cleveland, Cincinnati,
and others, thousands gathered to pay their hom-
age to the illustrious dead, weeping, and often
pressing their lips upon the shroud. On July 10,
when the body, having reached Lexington, was
ready for burial, nearly a hundred thousand per-
sons were gathered. In front of the Ashland
home, on a bier covered with flowers, stood the
iron coffin. Senators and scholars, the rich and
the poor, the white and the black, mourned to-
gether in their common sorrow. The great man
had missed the presidency, but he had not missed
the love of a whole nation. The " mill-boy of the
Slashes," winsome, sincere, had, unaided, become
the only and immortal Henry Clay.
CHARLES SUMNER.
TTENRY WARD BEECHER said of Charles
J — L Sumner : " He was raised up to do the work
preceding and following the war. His eulogy will
be, a lover of his country, an advocate of universal
liberty, and the most eloquent and high-minded of
all the statesmen of that period in which America
made the transition from slavery to liberty."
"The most eloquent and high-minded." Great
praise, but worthily bestowed !
Descended from an honorable English family
who came to Massachusetts in 1637, settling in
Dorchester, and the son of a well known lawyer,
Charles Sumner came into the world January 6,
1811, with all the advantages of birth and social
position. That he cared comparatively little for
the family eoat-of-arms of his ancestors is shown
by his words in his address on " The True Grand-
eur of Nations." " Nothing is more shameful for
a man than to found his title to esteem not on his
own merits, but on the fame of his ancestors. The
glory of the fathers is, doubtless, to their children,
a most precious treasure ; but to enjoy it without
268
CHARLES SUMNER. 269
transmitting it to the next generation, and with-
out adding to it yourselves, — this is the height of
imbecility."
Sumner added to the "glory of the fathers."
not by ease and self-indulgence, not by conforming
to the opinions of the society about him, but by a
life of labor, and heroic devotion to principle. He
had such courage to do the right as is not common
to mankind, and such persistency as teaches a les-
son to the young men of America.
Charles was the oldest of nine children, the
twin brother of Matilda, who grew to a beautiful
womanhood, and died of consumption at twenty-
one. The family home was at No. 20 Hancock
Street, Boston, a four-story brick building.
Charles Pinckney Sumner, the father, a schol-
arly and well bred man of courtly manners, while
he taught his children to love books, had the se-
verity of nature which forbade a tender compan-
ionship between him and his oldest son. This was
supplied, however, by the mother, a woman of
unusual amiability and good-sense, who lived to
be his consolation in the struggles of manhood,
and to be proud and thankful when the whole
land echoed his praises.
The boy was tall, slight, obedient, and devoted
to books. He was especially fond 'of reading and
repeating speeches. When sent to dancing-school
he showed little enjoyment in it, preferring to go
to the court-room with his father, to listen to the
arguments of the lawyers. When he visited his
270 CHARLES SUMNER.
mother's early home in Hanover, he had the ex-
treme pleasure of reciting in the country woods
the orations which he had read in the city.
In these early days he was an aspiring lad, with
a manner which made his companions say he was
" to the manor born." The father had decided to
educate him in the English branches only, thus
fitting him to earn his living earlier, as his income
from the law, at this time, was not large. Charles,
however, had purchased some Latin books with his
pocket money, and surprised his father with the
progress he had made by himself when ten years
old. He was therefore, at this age, sent to the
Boston Latin School. So skilful was he in the
classics that at thirteen he received a prize for a
translation from Sallust, and at fifteen a prize for
English prose and another for a Latin poem. At
the latter age he was ready to enter Harvard Col-
lege. He had desired to go to West Point, but,
fortunately, there was no opening. The country
needed him for other work than war. To lead a
whole nation by voice and pen up to heroic deeds
is better than to lead an army.
All this time he read eagerly in his spare mo-
ments, especially in history, enjoying Gibbon's
" Rome," and making full extracts from it in his
notebooks. At fourteen he had written a com-
pendium of English history, from Caesar's conquest
to 1801, which filled a manuscript book of eighty-
six pages.
His first college room at Harvard was No. 17
CHARLES SUMNER. 271
Stoughton Hall. "When he entered," says one of
his class-mates, " he was tall, thin, and somewhat
awkward. He had but little inclination for en-
gaging in sports or games, such as kicking foot-ball
on the Delta, which the other students were in
almost the daily habit of enjoying. He rarely
went out to take a walk ; and almost the only
exercise in which he engaged was going on foot to
Boston on Saturday afternoon, and then returning
in the evening. He had a remarkable fondness
for reading the dramas of Shakespeare, the works
of Walter Scott, together with reviews and maga-
zines of the higher class. He remembered what
he read, and quoted passages afterwards with the
greatest fluency. ... In declamation he held rank
among the best; but in mathematics there were
several superior. He was always amiable and gen-
tlemanly in deportment, and avoided saying any-
thing to wound the feelings of his class-mates."
One of the chief distinguishing marks of a well
bred man is that he speaks ill of no one and
harshly to no one.
In Sumner's freshman year his persistency
showed itself, as in his childhood, when, in quar-
relling with a companion over a stick, he held it
till his bleeding hands frightened his antagonist,
who ran away. By the laws of the college, stu-
dents wore a uniform, consisting of an Oxford
cap, coat, pantaloons, and vest of the color known
as " Oxford mixed." In summer a white vest was
allowed. Sumner, having a fancy for a buff vest.
272 CHARLES SUMNEB.
purchased one, wore it, and was summoned before
the teachers for non-conformity to rules. He
insisted, with much eloquence, that his vest was
white. Twice he was admonished, and finally, as
the easiest way to settle with the good-principled
but persistent student, it was voted by the board,
"that in future Sumner's vest be regarded as
white ! "
In scholarship in college he ranked among the
first third. He gave much time to general read-
ing, especially the old English authors, Milton,
Pope, Dryden, Addison, Goldsmith. Hazlitt's
" Select British Poets " and Harvey's " Shakes-
peare " he kept constantly on his table in later
life, ready for use. The latter, which he always
called THE BOOK, was found open on the day of
his death, with the words marked in Henry VI : —
"Would I were dead! if God's good will were so ;
For what is in this world but grief and woe ?"
On leaving college, Sumner's mind was not made
up as to his future work. He was somewhat
inclined to the law, but questioned his probable
success in it. He spent a year at home in study,
mastering mathematics, which he so disliked, and
reading Tacitus, Juvenal, Persius, Hume, Hallam,
and the like. In the winter he composed an essay
on commerce, and received the prize offered by the
" Boston Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge." Daniel Webster, the president of
the society, gave the prize, Liebner's " Encyclo-
CHARLES SUMNER. 273
paedia Americana," to Sunnier, taking his hand and
calling him his "young friend." He did not know
that this youth would succeed him in the Senate,
and thrill the nation by his eloquence, as Webster
himself had done.
Simmer's class-mates were proud that he had
gained this prize, and one wrote to another, " Our
friend outstrips all imagination. He will leave us
all behind him. ... He has been working hard to
lay a foundation for the future. I doubt whether
one of his class-mates has filled up the time since
commencement with more, and more thorough
labor ; and to keep him constant he has a pervad-
ing ambition, — not an intermittent, fitful gust of
an affair, blowing a hurricane at one time, then
subsiding to a calm, but a strong, steady breeze,
which will bear him well on in the track of honor."
In the fall of 1831 Sumner had decided to study
law, and began in earnest at the Harvard Law
School. Early and late he was among his books,
often until two in the morning. He soon knew
the place of each volume in the law library, so
that he could have found it in the dark. He read
carefully in common law, French law, and inter-
national law ; procured a common-place book, and
wrote out tables of English kings and lord-chancel-
lors, sketches of lawyers, and definitions and inci-
dents from Blackstone. He made a catalogue of
the law library, and wrote articles for legal maga-
zines. He went little into society, because he pre-
ferred his books. Judge Story, a man twice his
274 CHARLES 8UMNEH.
own age, became his most devoted friend, and to
the end of his life Sumner loved him as a brother.
Chief Justice Story, whom Lord Brougham
called the " greatest justice in the world," was a
man of singularly sweet nature, appreciative of the
beautiful and the pure, as well as a man of pro-
found learning. The influence of such a lovable
and strong nature over an ambitious youth, who can
estimate ?
The few friends Sumner made among women
were, as a rule, older than himself, a thing not
unusual with intellectual men. He chose those
whose minds were much like his own, and who
were appreciative, refining, and stimulating. Brain
and heart seemed to be the only charms which
possessed any fascination for him.
The eminent sculptor, W. W. Story of Rome,
says, " Of all men I ever knew at his age, he was
the least susceptible to the charms of women.
Men he liked best, and with them he preferred to
talk. It was in vain for the loveliest and liveliest
girl to seek to absorb his attention. He would at
once desert the most blooming beauty to talk to
the plainest of men. This was a constant source
of amusement to us, and we used to lay wagers
with the pretty girls that with all their art they
could not keep him at their side a quarter of an
hour. Nor do I think we ever lost one of these
bets. I remember particularly one dinner at my
father's house, when it fell to his lot to take out
a charming woman, so handsome and full of
CHARLES SUMNER. 275
that any one at the table might well have envied
him his position. She had determined to hold him
captive, and win her bet against us. But her efforts
were all in vain. Unfortunately, on his other
side was a dry old savant, packed with informa-
tion ; and within five minutes Sunnier had com-
pletely turned his back on his fair companion and
engaged in a discussion with the other, which
lasted the whole dinner. We all laughed. She
cast up her eyes deprecatingly, acknowledged her-
self vanquished, and paid her bet. Meantime,
Sumner was wholly unconscious of the jest or of
the laughter. He had what he wanted — sensible
men's talk. He had mined the savant as he
mined every one he met, in search of ore, and was
thoroughly pleased with what he got."
In manner Sumner was natural and sincere,
friendly to all, winning at the first moment by his
radiant smile. A sunny face is a constant benedic-
tion. How it blesses and lifts burdens from ach-
ing hearts ! Sumner had heart-aches like all the
rest of mankind, but his face beamed with that
open, kindly expression which is as sweet to hun-
gering humanity as the sunshine after rain. And
this "genial illuminating smile," says Mr. Story,
" he never lost."
These days in the law school were happy- days
for the lover of learning. Forty years afterward.
Mr. Sumner said, in an address to the colored law
students of Howard University, Washington,
" These exercises carry me back to early life. . . .
276 CHARLES SUMNER.
I cannot think of those days without fondness.
They were the happiest of my life. . . . There is
happiness in the acquisition of knowledge, which
surpasses all common joys. The student who feels
that he is making daily progress, constantly learn-
ing something new, — who sees the shadows by
which he was originally surrounded gradually ex-
changed for an atmosphere of light, — cannot fail
to be happy. His toil becomes a delight, and all
that he learns is a treasure, — with this difference
from gold and silver, that it cannot be lost. It is
a perpetual capital at compound interest."
While at the law school, Sumner wrote a friend,
" A lawyer must know everything. He must know
law, history, philosophy, human nature ; and, if he
covets the fame of an advocate, he must drink of
all the springs of literature, giving ease and ele-
gance to the mind, and illustration to whatever sub-
ject it touches. So experience declares, and re-
flection bears experience out. . . . The lower floor
of Divinity Hall, where I reside, is occupied by
law students. There are here Browne and Dana of
our old class, with others that I know nothing of,
— not even my neighbor, parted from me by a
partition wall, have I seen yet, and I do not wish
to see him. I wish no acquaintances, for they eat
up time like locusts. The old class-mates are
enough." To another he wrote, "Determine that
you will master the whole compass of law ; and do
not shrink from the crabbed page of black-letter,
the multitudinous volumes of reports, or even the
CHARLES SUMNER. 277
gigantic abridgments. Keep the high standard in
your mind's eye, and you will certainly reach some
desirable point. . . . You cannot read history too
much, particularly that of England and the United
States. History is the record of luiman conduct
and experience ; and it is to this that jurisprudence
is applied. . . . Above all love and honor your pro-
fession. You can make yourself love the law,
proverbially dry as it is, or any other study. Here
is an opportunity for the exercise of the will. De-
termine that you will love it, and devote yourself
to it as to a bride."
When the study at the law school was over,
Sumner returned to Boston, and entered the office
of Benjamin Rand, Court Street, a man distin-
guished for learning rather than for oratory. The
young lawyer succeeded fairly well, though he
loved study better than general practice. Two
years later he gave instruction at the law school
when Judge Story was absent, and then reported
his opinions in the Circuit Court, in three volumes.
He assisted Professor Greenleaf in preparing " Re-
ports of the Decisions of the Supreme Court of
Maine," revised, with much labor, Dunlap's "Ad-
miralty Practice," and edited " The American
Jurist."
In the midst of this hard work he spent a brief
vacation at Washington, writing to his father, " I
shall probably hear Calhoun, and he will be the
last man I shall ever hear speak in Washington. I
probably shall never come here again. I have lit-
278 CHARLES
tie or no desire ever to come again in any capacity.
Nothing that I have seen of politics has made me
look upon them with any feeling other than loath-
ing. The more I see of them the more I love law,
which, I feel, will give me an honorable livelihood."
When he visited Niagara, he wrote home, "I
have sat for an hour contemplating this delightful
object, with the cataract sounding like the voice of
God in my ears. But there is something oppres-
sive in hearing and contemplating these things.
The mind travails with feelings akin to pain, in the
endeavor to embrace them. I do not know that it
is so with others ; but I cannot disguise from my-
self the sense of weakness, inferiority, and incom-
petency which I feel."
When Sumner was twenty-six, he determined to
carry out a life-long plan of visiting Europe, to
study its writers, jurists, and social customs. He
needed five thousand dollars for this purpose. He-
had earned two thousand, and, borrowing three
from three friends,- he started December 8, 1837.
Emerson gave him a letter of introduction to Car-
lyle, Story to some leading lawyers, and Washing-
ton Allston to Wordsworth. Judge Story said in
his letter, " Mr. Sumner is a practising lawyer at
the Boston bar, of very high reputation for his
years, and already giving the promise of the most
eminent distinction in his profession ; his literary
and judicial attainments are truly extraordinary.
He is one of the editors, indeed, the principal edi-
tor, of ' The American Jurist,' a quarterly journal
CHARLES SUMNER. 279
of extensive circulation and celebrity among us,
and without a rival in America. He is also the re-
porter of the court in which I preside, and has
already published two volumes of reports. His
private character, also, is of the best kind for
purity and propriety."
His friend Dr. Lieber gave him some good sug-
gestions about travelling. "Plan your journey.
Spend money carefully. Keep steadily a journal.
Never think that an impression is too vivid to be
forgotten. Believe me, time is more powerful than
senses or memory. Keep little books for addresses.
Write down first impressions of men and coun-
tries."
Just before Sumner started from New York, he
wrote to his little sister, Julia, then ten years old,
" I am very glad, my dear, to remember your cheer-
ful countenance. . . . Let it be said of you that
you are always amiable. . . . Cultivate an affec-
tionate disposition. If you find that you can do
anything which will add to the pleasure of your
parents, or anybody else, be sure to do it. Con-
sider every opportunity of adding to the pleasure
of others as of the highest importance, and do not
be unwilling to sacrifice some enjoyment of your
own, even some dear plaything, if by doing so you
can promote the happiness of others. If you fol-
low this advice, you will never be selfish or ungen-
erous, and everybody will love you."
To his brother George, six years younger than
himself, he wrote, " Do not waste your time in
280 CHARLES SUMNER.
driblets. Deem every moment precious, — far
more so than the costliest stones. . . . Keep some
good book constantly on hand to occupy every stray
moment."
As soon as Sumner reached Paris he devoted
himself to the study of the language, so as to be
able to speak what he could write already. He at-
tended lectures given by the professors of colleges,
became acquainted with Victor Cousin, the noted
writer on morals and metaphysics, and the friend
of authors, lawyers, and journalists. He said,
years later, in an eloquent tribute to Judge Story :
" It has been my fortune to know the chief jurists
of our time in the classical countries of jurispru-
dence, — France and Germany. I remember well
the pointed and effective style of Dupin, in one of
his masterly arguments before the highest court
of France ; I recall the pleasant converse of Par-
dessus, to whom commercial and maritime law is
under a larger debt, perhaps, than to any other mind,
while he descanted on his favorite theme ; I wander
in fancy to the gentle presence of him with flowing
silver locks who was so dear to Germany, Thi-
baut, the expounder of Roman law, and the earnest
and successful advocate of a just scheme for the
reduction of the unwritten law to the certainty of
a written text ; from Heidelberg I pass to Berlin,
where I listen to the grave lecture and mingle in
the social circle of Savigny, so stately in person
and peculiar in countenance, whom all the continent
of Europe delights to honor ; but my heart and my
CHARLES SUMNER. 281
judgment, untravelled, fondly turn with new love
and admiration to my Cambridge teacher and
friend. Jurisprudence has many arrows in her
quiver, but where is one to compare with that
which is now spent in the earth ? "
After some months in Paris, Sumner went to
England, remaining ten months, and receiving at-
tentions rarely if ever accorded to an American.
He used some letters of introduction, but generally
he was welcomed to the houses of lords and authors
simply because the young man of learning was
honored for his refinement and nobility of soul.
He was admitted to the clubs, attended debates in
Parliament, was present at the coronation of
Queen Victoria in Westminster Abbey, sat on the
bench at Westminster Hall, dined often with Lord
Brougham, Sir William Hamilton, Jeffrey of the
Edinburgh Review, Lord Morpeth the Chief Sec-
retary for Ireland, Hallam, Caiiyle, Lord Holland,
Lord Houghton, Grote, Sydney Smith, Macau-
lay, Landor, Leigh Hunt, and scores of others,
the greatest in the kingdom. An English writer
said : " He presents in his own person a decisive
proof that an American gentleman, without official
rank or widespread reputation, by mere dint of
courtesy, candor, an entire absence of pretension,
an appreciating spirit, and a cultivated mind, may
be received on a perfect footing of equality in the
best English circles, social, political, and intellect-
ual."
Sumner wrote back to his friends in America:
282 CHARLES SUMNER.
" I have made myself master of English practice
and English circuit life. I cannot sufficiently ex-
press my admiration of the heartiness and cordial-
ity which pervade all the English bar. They are
truly a band of brothers, and I have been received
among them as one of them. I have visited many
— perhaps I may say most — of the distinguished
men of these glorious countries (England, Scotland,
and Ireland), at their seats, and have seen Eng-
lish country life, which is the height of refined lux-
ury, in some of its most splendid phases. For all
the opportunities I have had I feel grateful."
Sumner found, what all travellers find, that cul-
tivated, well bred people all speak a common lan-
guage, that of universal courtesy and kindness.
The English did not ask if he had wealth or
distinguished parentage ; it was enough that he
was intelligent on all topics, considerate, gentle in
manner, a gentleman in every possible situation.
Every letter home teemed with descriptions of
visits to Wordsworth, then sixty-nine years of age ;
to Macaulay, whom Sydney Smith called " a tre-
mendous machine for colloquial oppression ; " to
the beautiful Caroline Norton, the poet, " one of
the brightest intellects I have ever met," with
" the grace and ease of the woman, with a strength
and skill of which any man might well be proud ; "
to Lord Brougham, with " a fulness of information
and physical spirits, which make him more com-
manding than all."
Sumner spent three months in Rome, at first
CHARLES SUMNER. 288
studying the language from six to twelve hours a
day. He became the friend of the artist Thomas
Crawford, then poor, but with high ambition. He
Wrote his praises home to his friends, induced
them to buy one of his earliest works and exhibit
it in Boston ; cheered the half-despairing artist by
assuring him that he would be " a great and suc-
cessful sculptor, and be living in a palace," all of
which came true. A noble nature, indeed, that
could pause in its own aspiring work and lift an-
other to fame and success !
Six months were spent in Germany by Sumner,
where he studied language and law as earnestly as
he had in France and Italy. The rich, full days
of literary intercourse were coming to an end. He
wrote to his intimate friend Longfellow : " I shall
soon be with you ; and I now begin to think of
hard work, of long days filled with uninteresting
toil and humble gains. I sometimes have a mo-
ment of misgiving, when I think of the certainties
which I abandoned for travel, and of the uncer-
tainties to which I return. But this is momen-
tary ; for I am thoroughly content with what I
have done. If clients fail me ; if the favorable
opinion of those on whom professional reputation
depends leaves me ; if I find myself poor and soli-
tary, — still I shall be rich in the recollection of
what I have seen, and will make companions of the
great minds of these countries I have visited."
In the spring of 1840 Sumner was home again,
having been abroad for two and one-half years.
284 I'lIABLES St'MXKR.
The father and his sister Jane, a lovely girl of
seventeen, had both died during his absence. He
went at once to the Hancock Street home, and
began his professional labors from nine till five or
six in the afternoon. In the evening he read as
formerly till midnight or later, going every Satur-
day evening to spend the night with Longfellow at
Craigie House.
This affection for Longfellow never changed.
When the poet went abroad in 1842, Sumner wrote
him, "We are all sad at your going; but I am
more sad than the rest, for I lose more than they
do. I am desolate. It was to me a source of
pleasure and strength untold to see you ; and,
when I did not see you, to feel that you were near,
with your swift sympathy and kindly words. I
must try to go alone, — hard necessity in this rude
world of ours, for our souls always in this life need
support and gentle beckonings, as the little child
when first trying to move away from its mother's
knee. God bless you, my dear friend, from my
heart of hearts. My eyes overflow as I now trace
these lines."
Sumner was full of incident and vivid descrip-
tion of his life abroad, and the most charming
homes of Boston were open to him whenever he
had the time to visit, which was seldom. The
letters from Europe made the long days of law
practice less monotonous. He wrote much on
legal matters ; and now, at thirty -three, undertook
to edit the "Equity Reports" of Francis Vesey,
CHARLES SUMNER. 285
Jr., numbering twenty volumes, for two thousand
dollars. By the terms agreed upon, a volume was
to be ready each fortnight. He worked night and
day, took no recreation, and soon broke down in
health; and his life was despaired of. He wel-
comed death, for he had before this time become
somewhat despondent. Most of his friends were
married, and some, like Prescott and Longfellow,
had come to fame already. He felt that his life
was not showing the results of which his youth
gave promise.
Had he found at this time '" the perfect woman "
for whom he used to tell his friends he was seek-
ing, and made her his wife, there would doubtless
have come into his life satisfaction and rest.
That he did not marry was the more strange since
women admired him for the qualities which are
especially attractive to the sex ; a knightly sense
of honor, fidelity in friendship, fearlessness, and
affectionate confidence.
Sumner recovered his health, while his beloved
sister Mary, at the age of twenty-two, faded from
his sight by consumption. He wrote his brother
George : " She herself wished to die ; and I believe
that we all became anxious at last that the angel
should descend to bear her aloft. From the beau-
tiful flower of her life the leaves had all gently
fallen to the earth ; and there remained but little
for the hand of death to pluck. During the night
preceding the morning on which she left us, she
slept like a child ; and within a short time of her
286 CHARLES SUMXER.
death, when asked if she were in pain, she said,
'No ; angels are taking care of me.' "
To Charles Sumner this death was an incompa-
rable loss. She was especially beautiful and
lovely, and the idol of his heart. Possibly it
helped to make him ready for his great work.
Into most lives, especially those designed for
great deeds, there seem to come decisive moments
when events open the door from the darkness of
obscurity into the noonday glare of fame. Such a
time came to Sumner in 1845. He was asked to
deliver the usual Fourth of July address at Tre-
mont Temple, Boston, as Charles Francis Adams,
Horace Mann, and others had done in previous
years. He chose for his subject " The True Gran-
deur of Nations," showing that the " true grandeur "
is peace and not war. He dealt vigorously with
the Mexican War, then impending, as a result of
the annexation of Texas, with consequent enlarge-
ment of slave territory.
Sumner was now thirty-four, well developed
physically, his face handsome and radiant as ever,
with the smile of his boyhood, his voice clear and
resonant, his mind full to overflowing. He spoke
for two hours, without notes. He said : " The true
greatness of a nation cannot be in triumphs of the
intellect alone. Literature and art may widen
the sphere of its influence ; they may adorn it ;
but they are in their nature but accessories. The
true grandeur of humanity is in moral elevation,
sustained, enlightened, and decorated by the intellect
CHARLES SUMNER. 287
of man. ... In our age there can be no peace
that is not honorable ; there can be no war that is
not dishonorable. The true honor of a nation is
to be found only in deeds of justice and benefi-
cence, securing the happiness of its people, — all
of which are inconsistent with war. In the clear
eye of Christian judgment, vain are its victories,
infamous are its spoils. He is the true benefactor,
and alone worthy of honor, who brings comfort
where before was wretchedness; who dries the
tear of sorrow ; who pours oil into the wounds of
the unfortunate ; who feeds the hungry, and clothes
the naked ; who unlooses the fetter of the slave ;
who does justice ; who enlightens the ignorant ;
who, by his virtuous genius in art, in literature, in
science, enlivens and exalts the hours of life ; who,
by words or actions, inspires a love for God and for
man. This is the Christian hero ; this is the man
of honor in a Christian land."
The believers in war felt somewhat hurt by
Sumner's plainness of speech, but the city of Bos-
ton and the State of Massachusetts awoke to the
knowledge of an eloquent man in their midst, who
had doubtless a work before him. Mrs. Lydia
Maria Child wrote him : " How I did thank you for
your noble and eloquent attack upon the absurd
barbarism of war ! It was worth living for to have
done that, if you never do anything more. But
the soul that could do that will do more."
Chancellor Kent wrote him, " I am very strongly
in favor of the institution of a congress of nations
288 CHARLES SUMNER.
or system of arbitration without going to war.
Every effort ought to be made by treaty stipula-
tion, remonstrance, and appeal to put a stop to the
resort to brutal force to assert claims of right.
The idea of war is horrible. I remember I was
very much struck, even in my youth, by the ob-
servation (I think it was in Tom Paine's ' Crisis ')
that ' he who is the author of war lets loose the
whole contagion of hell, and opens a vein that
bleeds a nation to death.' "
Seven thousand copies of this oration were dis-
tributed by the Peace Societies of England, and it
had a wide reading in our own country.
Sumner was now called upon to speak with Gar-
rison, Phillips, and others, on the question of the
annexation of Texas with her slave territory. He
said, " God forbid that the votes and voices of the
freemen of the North should help to bind anew the
fetters of the slave ! God forbid that the lash of
the slave-dealer should be nerved by any sanction
from New England ! God forbid that the blood
which spurts from the lacerated quivering flesh of
the slave should soil the hem of the white gar-
ments of Massachusetts."
The educated Boston lawyer, the friend of hosts
of authors and jurists on both sides of the ocean,
the accomplished and aristocratic scholar, Sumner
had placed himself among the despised Abolition-
ists ! Many of his friends stood aghast, even re-
fusing to recognize him on the street. This act
required great moral heroism, but he was equal to
CHARLES SUMNER. 289
the occasion. The door had opened to fame and
immortality, even though they came to him through
contumely and well-nigh martyrdom.
In 1846, Mr. Sumner spoke before the Phi Beta
Kappa Society of Harvard University : " We stand
on the threshold of a new age, which is preparing
to recognize new influences. The ancient divinities
of violence and wrong are retreating to their kin-
dred darkness. The sun of our moral universe is
entering a new ecliptic, no longer deformed by
those images, Cancer, Taurus, Leo, Sagittarius, but
beaming with the mild radiance of those heavenly
signs, Faith, Hope, and Charity.
" ' There's a fount about to stream ;
There's a light about to beam;
There's a warmth about to glow;
There's a flower about to blow;
There's a midnight blackness changing
Into gray :
Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way ! ' "
Theodore Parker wrote to the orator, " You have
planted a seed, ' out of which many and tall branches
shall arise,' I hope. The people are always true to
a good man who truly trusts them. You have had
opportunity to see, hear, and feel the truth of that
oftener than once. I think you will have enough
more opportunities yet ; men will look for deeds
noble as the words a man speaks"
And Charles Sumner became as noble as the
words he had spoken. It makes us stronger to
290 CHARLES SUMNER.
commit ourselves before the world. We are com-
pelled to live up to the standard of our speech, or
be adjudged hypocrites.
Before the Bostou Mercantile Library Associa-
tion, Sumner read a brilliant paper on " White Slav-
ery in the Barbary States," and gave an address be-
fore Amherst College on " Fame and Glory.'' He
spoke earnestly in the Whig conventions, asking
them to come out against slavery. He urged Dan-
iel Webster, the Defender of the Constitution, to
become the " Defender of Humanity," " by the side
of which that earlier title shall fade into insignifi-
cance, as the Constitution, which is the work of
mortal hands, dwindles by the side of man, who is
created in the image of God." But the words of
entreaty came too late; the Whig party did not
dare take up the cause of human freedom.
In 1851, when Sumner was forty, the new era of
his life came. The Free-Soil party, organized Au-
gust 9, 1848, the successor of the " Liberty " party
formed eight years earlier, wanted him as their
leader. Would he separate from the Whigs ?
Yes, for he had said, " Loyalty to principle is
higher than loyalty to party. The first is a heav-
enly sentiment from God ; the other is a device of
this earth. ... I wish it to be understood that I
belong to the party of freedom, — to that party
which plants itself on the Declaration of Indepen-
dence and the Constitution of the United States.
... It is said that we shall throw away our votes,
and that our opposition will fail. Fail, sir ! Xo
CHARLES SUMNEE. 291
honest, earnest effort in a good cause ever fails.
It may not be crowned with the applause of man ;
it may not seem to touch the goal of immediate
worldly success, which is the end and aim of so
much of life ; but still it is not lost. It helps to
strengthen the weak with new virtue, to arm the
irresolute with proper energy, to animate all with
devotion to duty, which in the end conquers all.
Fail ! Did the martyrs fail when with their pre-
cious blood they sowed the seed of the Church ? . . .
Did the three hundred Spartans fail when, in the
narrow pass, they did not fear to brave the innu-
merable Persian hosts, whose very arrows darkened
the sun ? No ! Overborne by numbers, crushed to
earth, they have left an example which is greater
far than any victory. And this is the least we can
do. Our example shall be the source of triumph
hereafter."
Millard Fillmore had signed the hated Fugitive
Slave Bill, and Webster had made his disastrous
speech of March 7, 1850, urging conformity to the
demands of the bill. Sumner's hour had come.
By a union of the Free-Soil and Democratic parties,
he was elected to the Senate of the United States
for six years, over the eloquent Robert C. Win-
throp, the Whig candidate. The contest was bit-
ter. Sumner would give no pledges, and said he
would not walk across the room to secure the elec-
tion. On Monday, December 1, 1851, he took his
seat. Devotion to principle had gained him an ex-
alted position.
292 CHARLES SUMNER.
Months went by before he could possibly obtain
a hearing on the slavery question, on which issue
he had been elected. Finally, the long sought
opportunity came by introducing an amendment
that the Fugitive Slave Bill should be repealed.
He spoke for four hours as only Charles Sumner
could speak. Despised by the slave-holders, they
listened to his burning words. In closing, he
said : " Be admonished by those words of oriental
piety, — ' Beware of the groans of wounded souls.
Oppress not to the utmost a single heart; for a
solitary sigh has power to overset a whole world.' "
Mr. Polk of Tennessee said to him : " If you
should make that speech in Tennessee, you would
compel me to emancipate my niggers."
The vote on the repeal stood : Yeas, four ; nays,
forty-seven. Alas ! how many years he wrought
before the repeal came.
Sumner had been heard not merely by Congress ;
he had been heard by two continents. Hencefor-
ward, for twenty -three years, he was to be in Con-
gress the great leader in the cause of human
freedom.
In 1854 the advocates of slavery brought for-
ward the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, by which a large
territory, at the recommendation of Stephen A.
Douglas, was to be left open for slavery or no
slavery, as the dwellers therein should decide. On
the night of the passage of this bill, Sumner made
an eloquent protest. " Sir, the bill which you are
now about to pass is at once the worst and the
CHARLES SUMNER. 293
best bill on which Congress ever acted. Yes, sir,
WORST and BEST at the same time.
" It is the worst bill, inasmuch as it is a present
victory of slavery. ... It is the best, for it pre-
pares the way for that ' All hail hereafter,' when
slavery must disappear. . . . Thus, sir, now stand-
ing at the very grave of freedom in Kansas and
Nebraska, I lift myself to the vision of that happy
resurrection by which freedom will be secured
hereafter, not only in these Territories but every-
where under the national government. More
clearly than ever before, I now see ' the beginning
of the end ' of slavery. Proudly I discern the flag
of my country as it ripples in every breeze, at last
become in reality, as in name, the flag of freedom,
— undoubted, pure, and irresistible. Am I not
right, then, in calling this bill the best on which
Congress ever acted ?
" Sorrowfully I bend before the wrong you are
about to enact. Joyfully I welcome all the prom-
ises of the future."
After the passage of the bill the excitement at
the North was intense. Public meetings were
held, denouncing the new scheme of the slave-
power to acquire more territory. So bitter grew
the feeling that Sumner was urged by his friends
to leave Washington, lest harm come to him ; but
he walked the streets unarmed. " He was as-
sailed," said the noble Joshua R. Giddings of Ohio,
" by the whole slave-power in the Senate, and, for a
time, he was the constant theme of their vitupera-
294 CHARLES SUMXER.
tion. The maddened waves rolled and dashed
against him for two or three days, until eventually
he obtained the floor himself ; then he arose and
threw back the dashing surges with a power of
inimitable eloquence utterly indescribable."
The Kansas-Nebraska Bill produced its legiti-
mate result, — civil war in the Territory. Slave-
holders rushed in from Missouri, bringing their
slaves with them ; free men came from the East to
build homes, school-houses, and churches on these
fertile lands. The struggles at the ballot-box over
illegal elections were followed by struggles on the
battle-field. At the village of Ossawatomie twen-
ty-eight Free State men led by John Brown de-
feated on the open prairie fifty-six Slave State
men. Houses were burned, and men murdered.
Two State constitutions were adopted : one at Le-
compton, representing the pro-slavery element ; the
other at Lawrence, representing the anti-slavery
party. Finally, the President, in 1855, appointed a
military governor to restore Kansas to order. But,
while order might be restored there, the whole
country seemed on the verge of civil war.
Meantime the Republican party had been formed
in 1854, the outgrowth of the "Liberty" and
" Free Soil " parties. A " Bill for the Admission
of Kansas into the Union " having been presented,
Sumner made his celebrated speech "The Crime
against Kansas," on the 19th and 20th of May,
1856. He spoke eloquently and fearlessly, arous-
ing more than ever the hot blood of the South.
CHARLES SUMNER. 295
Two days later, as Mr. Sumner was sitting at his
desk in the Senate chamber, his head bent for-
ward in writing, the Senate having adjourned,
Preston S. Brooks, a nephew of Mr. Butler, a sena-
tor of South Carolina, stood before him. " I have
read your speech twice over, carefully," he said.
"It is a libel on South Carolina and Mr. Butler,
who is a relative of mine." Instantly he struck
Mr. Sumner on the back of the head, with his hol-
low gutta-percha cane, making a long and fearful
gash, repeating the blows in rapid succession.
Sumner wrenched the desk from the floor, to
which it was screwed, but, unable to defend him-
self, fell forward bleeding and insensible. He was
carried by his friends to a sofa in the lobby, and
during the night lay pale and bewildered, scarcely
speaking to any one about him.
The indignation and horror of the North beggar
description. That a man, in this age of free speech,
should be publicly beaten, and that by a member
of the House of Eepresentatives, was, of course, a
disgrace to the nation. Said Joseph Quincy :
"Charles Sumner needs not our sympathy. If he
dies his name will be immortal — his name will be
enrolled with the names of Warren, Sidney, and
Russell ; if he lives he is destined to be the light
of the nation." Wendell Phillips said: "The
world will yet cover every one of those scars with
laurels. He must not die ! We need him yet, as
the van-guard leader of the hosts of Liberty.
Nay, he shall yet come forth from that sick-cham-
296 CHARLES 8VMNER.
her, and every gallant heart in the commonwealth
be ready to kiss his very footsteps."
Brooks was censured by the House of Kepresen-
tatives, resigned his seat, and died the following
year. Sumner returned to Boston as soon as he
was able. Houses were decorated for his coming,
and banners flung to the breeze with the words,
" Welcome, Freedom's Defender," " Massachusetts
loves, honors, will sustain and defend her noble
SUMNER." The home on Hancock Street was sur-
rounded by a dense crowd. He appeared at the
window with his widowed mother, and bowed to
their cheers. For several months he enjoyed the
tender care of this mother, now almost alone. Her
son Horace had been lost in the ship Elizabeth,
July 16, 1850, when Margaret Fuller, her hus-
band, and child were drowned. Albert, a sea-
captain, had been lost with his wife and only
daughter on their way to France. And now, per-
haps, her distinguished son Charles was to give his
life to help bring freedom to four millions in
slavery.
In 1857 Sumner was almost unanimously ree'lec-
ted to the Senate for six years, but Brooks had
done his dreadful work too well. Broken in
health, he sailed for Europe. Nearly twenty
years before he had gone to meet the honored and
famous, his future all unknown ; now he went as
the stricken leader of a great cause, one of the
most able and eloquent men of the new world.
Twenty years before he was restless and unhappy
CHARLES SUMNER. 297
because he did not see his life-work before him ;
now he was happy in spite of physical agony, be-
cause he knew he was helping humanity.
After travelling in Switzerland, Germany, and
Great Britain, he returned and took his seat in
Congress, but, finding his health still impaired, he
sailed again to Europe. He regretted to leave the
country, but was, as he says, " often assured and
encouraged to feel that to every sincere lover of
civilization my vacant chair was a perpetual
speech." On this second visit he came under the
treatment of Dr. Brown-Sequard, who, when asked
by Mr. Sumner what would cure him, replied,
" Fire." At once the dreadful remedy was applied.
The physician says, when he first met the senator,
" He could not make use of his brain at all. He
could not read a newspaper, could not write a
letter. He was in a frightful state as regards the
activity of the mind, as every effort there was most
painful to him. ... I told him the truth, — that
there would be more effect, as I thought, if he did
not take chloroform ; and so I had to submit him
to the martyrdom of the greatest suffering that
can be inflicted on mortal man. I burned him with
the first moxa. I had the hope that after the first
application he would submit to the use of chloro-
form ; but for five times after that he was burned
in the same way, and refused to take chloroform.
I have never seen a patient who submitted to such
treatment in that way."
Sumner wrote home : " It is with a pang un-
CHARLES SUMMER.
speakable that I find myself thus arrested in the
labors of life and in the duties of my position.
This is harder to bear than the fire."
Four years elapsed before he regained his health ;
indeed his death finally resulted from the attack of
Brooks. No sooner had he returned to the Senate
than he made another great speech against slavery.
The country was agitated by the coming presiden-
tial election. John Brown had captured, with a
force of twenty-two men, the United States arsenal
at Harper's Ferry, with the fallacious hope of set-
ting the slaves at liberty. He was of course over-
powered, his sons killed at his side, as others of
his sons had been on the Kansas battlefields, and
he led out to execution, December 2, 1859, with a
radiant face and an overflowing heart, because he
knew that his death would arouse the nation to
action.
Mr. Sumner spoke to an immense audience at
Cooper Institute, urging the election of Abraham
Lincoln. By this election, he said, " we shall save
the Territories from the five-headed barbarism of
slavery ; we shall save the country and the age
from that crying infamy, the slave-trade ; we
shall help save the Declaration of Independence,
now dishonored and disowned in its essential, life-
giving truth, — the equality of men. ... A new
order of things will begin; and our history will
proceed on a grander scale, in harmony with those
sublime principles in which it commenced. Let
the knell sound ! —
CHARLES SUMNER. 299
" ' Ring out the old, ring in the new!
Ring out the false, ring in the true !
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife!
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.' "
A "new order of things" was indeed begun.
South Carolina very soon seceded from the Union,
and other southern States followed her example.
Sunnier now spoke and wrote constantly. He
urged Massachusetts to be "firm, FIRM, FIRM !
against every word or step of concession. . . .
More than the loss of forts, arsenals, or the national
capital, I fear the loss of our principles."
In 1861, Mr. Sumner was made chairman of the
Committee on Foreign Relations. How different
his position from that day, ten years before, when
he stood almost alone in the Senate, a hated aboli-
tionist !
When the war began, he saw with prophetic eye
the necessity of emancipating the slaves. He
urged it in his public speeches. When Lincoln
hesitated and the country feared the result, he said
to a vast assembly at Cooper Institute, " There has
been the cry, ( On to Richmond ! ' and still another
worse cry, ' On to England ! ' Better than either
is the cry, ' On to freedom ! ' '
As the war went forward he was ever at his post,
working for Henry Wilson's bill for the abolishing
of slavery in the District of Columbia, for the
recognition of the independence of Hayti and Li-
300 CHARLES SUMNER.
beria, for the final suppression of the coastwise
trade in slaves, for the employment of colored
troops in the army, and for a law that " no person
shall be excluded from the cars on account of color,"
on various specified lines of railroad. He spoke
words of encouragement constantly to the North,
" This is no time to stop. FORWARD ! FORWARD !
Thus do 1, who formerly pleaded so often for peace,
now sound to arms ; but it is because, in this terri-
ble moment, there is no other way to that sincere
and solid peace without which there will be end-
less war. . . . Now, at last, by the death of slav-
ery, will the republic begin to live ; for what is
life without liberty ?
" Stretching from ocean to ocean, teeming with
population, bountiful in resources of all kinds, and
thrice happy in universal enfranchisement, it will
be more than conqueror, — nothing too vast for its
power, nothing too minute for its care."
He wrote for the magazines on the one great sub-
ject. He helped organize the Freedman's Bureau,
which he called the "Bridge from Slavery to Free-
dom." He urged equal pay to colored soldiers.
He was invaluable to President Lincoln. Though
they did not always think alike, Lincoln said to
Sumner, "There is no person with whom I have
more advised throughout my administration than
with yourself."
When Lincoln was assassinated, Sumner wept by
his bedside. '• The only time," said an intimate
friend, "I ever saw him weep." When he deliv-
CHARLES SUMNER. 301
ered his eloquent eulogy on Lincoln in Boston, he
said, " That speech, uttered on the field of Gettys-
burg, and now sanctified by the martyrdom of its
author, is a monumental act. In the modesty of
his nature, he said, ' The world will little note, nor
long remember, what we say here ; but it can never
forget what they did here.'
"He was mistaken. The world noted at once
what he said, and will never cease to remember it.
The battle itself was less important than the
speech. Ideas are more than battles."
And so the great slavery pioneer and the great
emancipator will go down in history together.
How the world worships heroic manhood ! Those
who, with sweet and unselfish natures, seek not their
own happiness, but are ready to die if need be for
the right and the truth !
Sumner aided in those three grand amendments
to the Constitution, the thirteenth, fourteenth, and
fifteenth. "Neither slavery nor involuntary servi-
tude, except as a punishment for crime, whereof
the party shall have been duly convicted, shall ex-
ist within the United States, or any place subject
to their jurisdiction. . . . All persons born or
naturalized in the United States, and subject to the
jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United
States and of the State wherein they reside. No
State shall make or enforce any law which shall
abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of
the United States ; nor shall any State deprive any
person of life, liberty, or property, without due
302 CHARLES SUMNER.
process of law, nor deny to any person within its
jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. . . .
The right of citizens of the United States to vote
shall not be denied or abridged by the United
States, or by any State, on account of race, color,
or previous condition of servitude."
In June, 1866, Mr. Sumner came home to say
good-bye to his dying mother. True to her noble
womanhood, she urged that he should not be sent
for, lest the country could not spare him from his
work. Beautiful self-sacrifice of woman ! Heaven
can possess nothing more angelic. 0 mother, wife,
and loved one, know thine unlimited powers, and
hold them forever for the ennobling of men !
When Mrs. Sumner was buried, her son turned
away sorrowfully, and exclaimed, " I have now no
home." He had a house in Washington, where he
had lived for many years, but it was only home to
him where a sweet-faced and sweet- voiced woman
loved him.
In 1869, Mr. Sumner made his remarkable speech
on the " Alabama " claims, which for a time caused
some bitter feeling in England. This vessel, built
at Liverpool, and manned by a British crew, was
sent out by the Confederate government, and de-
stroyed sixty-six of our vessels, with a loss of ten
million dollars. In 1864, she was overtaken in the
harbor of Cherbourg, France, by Captain Winslow,
commander of the steamer Kearsarge, and sunk,
after an hour's desperate fighting. Her com-
mander, Captain Raphael Semmes, was picked up
UHAKLE8 SUMNEP. 303
by the English Deerhound, and taken to Southamp-
ton. In the siimmer of 1872, a board of arbitration
met at Geneva, Switzerland, and awarded the Uni-
ted States over fifteen million dollars as damages,
which Great Britain paid.
On May 12, 1870, Mr. Sumner introduced his
supplementary Civil-Rights Bill, declaring that all
persons, without regard to race or color, are entitled
to equal privileges afforded by railroads, steam-
boats, hotels, places of amusement, institutions of
learning, religion, and courts of law. His maxim
was, " Equality of rights is the first of rights."
He supported Horace Greeley for President, thus
separating himself from the Republican party, and
carrying out his life-long opinion that principle is
above party. After another visit to Europe, in
1872, when he was sixty-one years old, feeling that,
the war being over and slavery abolished, the two
portions of the country should forget all animosity
and live together in harmony, he introduced a reso-
lution in the Senate, "That the names of battles
with fellow-citizens shall not be continued in the
army register or placed on the regimental colors of
the United States."
Massachusetts hastily passed a vote of censure
upon her idolized statesman, which she was wise
enough to rescind soon after. This latter action
gave Mr. Sumner great comfort. He said, " The
dear old commonwealth has spoken for me, and
that is enough."
In his freestone house, full of pictures and books,
304 CHARLES SUMMER.
overlooking Lafayette Square in Washington, on
March 11, 1874, Charles Sumner lay dying. The
day previous, in the Senate, he had complained to a
friend of pain in the left side. On the morning of
the eleventh he was cold and well nigh insensible.
At ten o'clock he said to Judge Hoar, " Don't for-
get my Civil-Rights Bill." Later, he said, "My
book ! my book is not finished. ... I am so tired !
I am so tired ! "
He had worked long and hard. He passed into
the rest of the hereafter at three o'clock in the
afternoon. Grand, heroic soul ! whose life will be
an inspiration for all coming time.
The body, enclosed in a massive casket, upon
which rested a wreath of white azaleas and lilies,
was borne to the Capitol, followed by a company
of three hundred colored men and a long line of
carriages. The most noticeable among the floral
gifts, says Elias Nason, in his Life of Sumner,
" was a broken column of violets and white azaleas,
placed there by the hands of a colored girl. She
had been rendered lame by being thrust from the
cars of a railroad, whose charter Mr. Sumner, after
hearing the girl's story, by a resolution, caused to
be revoked." From there it was carried to the
State House in Boston, and visited by at least fifty
thousand people. In the midst of the beautiful
floral decorations was a large heart of flowers, from
the colored citizens of Boston, with the words,
" Charles Sumner, you gave us your life ; we give
you our hearts."
CHARLES SUMNEB. 305
Through a dense crowd the coffin was borne to
Mount Auburn cemetery, and placed in the open
grave just as the sun was setting, Longfellow,
Holmes, Emerson, and other dear friends standing
by. The grand old song of Luther was sung,
"Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott." Strange con-
trast ! the quiet, unknown Harvard law student ; —
the great senator, doctor of laws, author, and
orator. Simmer had his share of sorrow. He
lived to see seven of his eight brothers and sisters
taken away by death. He who had longed for
domestic bliss did not find it. He married, when
he was fifty-five, Mrs. Alice Mason Hooper, but
the companionship did not prove congenial, and a
divorce resulted, by mutual consent.
He forgot the heart-hunger of his early years in
living for the slaves and the down-trodden, whether
white or black. Through all his struggles he kept
a sublime hope. He used to say, " All defeats in a
good cause are but resting-places on the road to
victory at last." He had defeats, as do all, but he
won the victory.
Well says Hon. James G. Elaine, in his " Twenty
Years of Congress," "Mr. Sumner must ever be re-
garded as a scholar, an orator, a philanthropist, a
philosopher, a statesman, whose splendid and un-
sullied fame will always form part of the true
glory of the nation."
" He belongs to all of us, in the North and in the
South," said Hon. Carl Schurz, in his eulogy deliv-
ered in Music Hall, Boston, "to the blacks he
306 CHARLES SUMNER.
helped to make free, and to the whites he strove to
make brothers again. On the grave of him whom
so many thought to be their enemy, and found to
be their friend, let the hands be clasped which so
bitterly warred against each other. Upon that
grave let the youth of America be taught, by the
story of his life, that not only genius, power, and
success, but, more than these, patriotic devotion
and virtue, make the greatness of the citizen."
U. S. GRANT.
"HAT Longfellow wrote of Charles Sumner
may well be applied to Grant : —
"Were a star quenched on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky,
Shine on our mortal sight.
"So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men."
The light left by General Grant will not fade out
from American history. To be a great soldier is
of course to be immortal ; but to be magnanimous
to enemies, heroic in affections, a master of self,
without vanity, honest, courageous, true, invin.
cible, — such greatness is far above the glory of
battlefields. Such greatness he possessed, who,
born in comparative obscurity, came to be num-
bered in that famous trio, dear to every American
heart : Washington, Lincoln, Grant.
Ulysses Simpson Grant was born April 27, 1822,
in a log house at Mount Pleasant, Ohio. The boy
seems to have had the blood of soldiers in his
307
308 &• 8. GRANT.
veins, for his great-grandfather and great-uncle
held commissions in the English army in 1756, in
the war against the French and Indians, and both
were killed. His grandfather served through the
entire war of the Revolution.
His father, Jesse R. Grant, left dependent upon
himself, learned the trade of a tanner, and by his
industry made a home for himself and family.
Unable to attend school more than six months in
his life, he was a constant reader, and through his
own privations became the more anxious that his
children should be educated.
Ulysses was the first-born child of Jesse Grant
and Hannah Simpson, who were married in June,
1821. When their son was about a year old, they
moved to Georgetown, Ohio, and here the boy
passed a happy childhood, learning the very little
which the schools of the time were able to impart.
He was not fond of study, and enjoyed the more
active life of the farm. He says in his personal
memoirs : " While my father carried on the manu-
facture of leather and worked at the trade himself,
he owned and tilled considerable land. I detested
the trade, preferring almost any other labor; but
I was fond of agriculture, and of all employment in
which horses were used. We had, among other
lands, fifty acres of forest within a mile of the
village. In the fall of the year, choppers were
employed to cut enough wood to last a twelve-
month. When I was seven or eight years of age,
I began hauling all the wood used in the house
U. S. GRANT. 309
and shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of
course, at that time, but I could drive, and the
choppers would load, and some one at the house
unload. When about eleven years old, I was strong
enough to hold a plough. From that age until
seventeen I did all the work done with horses,
such as breaking up the land, furrowing, plough-
ing corn and potatoes, bringing in the crops when
harvested, hauling all the wood, besides tending
two or three horses, a cow or two, and sawing
wood for stoves, etc., while still attending school.
For this I was compensated by the fact that there
never was any scolding or punishing by my parents ;
no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fish-
ing, going to the creek a mile away to swim in
summer, taking a horse and visiting my grand-
parents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles off,
skating on the ice in winter, or taking a horse and
sleigh when there was snow on the ground."
The indulgent father allowed his son some unique
experiences. Ulysses, at fifteen, having made a
journey to Flat Rock, Kentucky, seventy miles
away, with a carriage and two horses, took a
fancy to a saddle-horse and offered to trade one
which he was driving, for this animal. The owner
hesitated about trading with a lad, but finally con-
sented, and the untried colt was hitched to the
carriage with his new mate. After proceeding a
short distance, the animal became frightened by a
dog, kicked, and started to run over an embank-
ment. Ulysses, nothing daunted, took from his
310 U. S. GRANT.
pocket a large handkerchief, tied it over the horse's
eyes, and sure that the terrified creature would see
no more dogs, though he trembled like an aspen
leaf, drove peacefully homeward.
Young Grant was as truthful as he was calm
and courageous. He tells this story of himself.
"There was a Mr. Ralston living within a few
miles of the village, who owned a colt which I
very much wanted. My father had offered twenty
dollars for it, but Ralston wanted twenty-five. I
was so anxious to have the colt that after the
owner left I begged to be allowed to take him at
the price demanded. My father yielded, but said
twenty dollars was all the horse was worth, and
told me to offer that price ; if it was not accepted,
I was to offer twenty-two and a half, and if that
would not get him, to give the twenty -five. I at
once mounted a horse and went for the colt. When
I got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him : ' Papa
says I may offer you twenty dollars for the colt ;
but if you won't take that, I am to offer twenty-two
and a half ; and if you won't take that, to give you
twenty-five.' It would not require a Connecticut
man to guess the price finally agreed upon. . . .
" I could not have been over eight years at the
time. This transaction caused me great heart-
burning. The story got out among the boys of
the village, and it was a long time before I heard
the last of it. Boys enjoy the misery of their
companions, at least village boys in that day did,
and in later life I have found that all adults are
[7. 5. GRANT. 311
not free from the peculiarity. I kept the horse
until he was four years old, when he went blind,
and I sold him for twenty dollars. When I went
to Maysville to school, in 1836, at the age of four-
teen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind
horses working on the tread-wheel of the ferry-
boat."
All this time the father was desirous of an edu-
cation for his child. The son of a neighbor had
been appointed to West Point, and had failed in
his examinations. Mr. Grant applied for his son.
" Ulysses," he said one day, " I believe you are
going to receive the appointment." " What ap-
pointment ! " was the response. " To West Point.
I have applied for it." " But I won't go," said the
impetuous boy. But the father's will was law, and
the son began to prepare himself. He bought an
algebra, but, having no teacher, he says, it was
Greek to him. He had no love for a military life,
and looked forward to the West Point experience
only as a new opportunity to travel East and see
the country.
At seventeen he took passage on a steamer for
Pittsburg, in the middle of May, 1839. Fortunately
the accommodating boat remained for several days
at every port, for passengers or freight, and mean-
time the curious boy used his eyes to learn all that
was possible. When he reached Harrisburg, he
rode to Philadelphia on the first railroad which he
had ever seen except the one on which he had just
crossed the summit of the Alleghany Mountains.
312 U- 8. GRANT.
"In travelling by the road from Harrisburg," he
says, " I thought the perfection of rapid transit had
been reached. We travelled at least eighteen miles
an hour, when at full speed, and made the whole
distance averaging probably as much as twelve
miles an hour. This seemed like .annihilating
space. I stopped five days in Philadelphia; saw
about every street in the city, attended the theatre,
visited Girard College (which was then in course of
construction), and got reprimanded from home
afterwards, for dallying by the way so long. . .
" I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st
of May, and about two weeks later passed my
examinations for admission, without difficulty, ver}r
much to my surprise. A military life had no
charms for me, and I had not the faintest idea
of staying in the army even if I should be gradu-
ated, which I did not expect. The encampment
which preceded the commencement of academic
studies was very wearisome and uninteresting.
When the 28th of August came — the date for
breaking up camp and going into barracks — I felt
as though 1 had been at West Point always, and
that if I stayed to graduation I would have to
remain always. I did not take hold of my studies
with avidity, in fact I rarely ever read over a les-
son the second time during my entire cadetship.
I could not sit in my room doing nothing. There
is a fine library connected with the academy, from
which cadets can get books to read in their quar-
ters. I devoted more time to these than to books
U. S. GRANT. . 313
relating to the course of studies. Much of the
time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but
not those of a trashy sort. I read all of Bulwer's
then published, Cooper's, Marryat's, Scott's, Wash-
ington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others
that I do not now remember. Mathematics was
very easy to me, so that when January came I
passed the examination, taking a good standing in
that branch. In French, the only other study at
that time in the first year's course, my standing
was very low. In fact, if the class had been turned
the other end foremost, I should have been near
the head."
The years at West Point did not go by quickly ;
only the ten weeks of vacation which seemed shorter
than one week in school. Sometimes at the acad-
emy a great general, like Winfield Scott, came to
review the cadets. " With his commanding figure,"
says young Grant, "his quite colossal size, and
showy uniform, I thought him the finest specimen
of manhood my eyes had ever beheld, and the most
to be envied. I could never resemble him in ap-
pearance, but I believe I did have a presentiment,
for a moment, that some day I should occupy his
place on review — although I had no intention then
of remaining in the army. My experience in a
horse trade ten years before, and the ridicule it
caused me, were too fresh in my mind for me to
communicate this presentiment to even my most
intimate chum." How often into lives there
comes a feeling that there is a specified work to
314 U. S. GRANT.
be done by us that no other person can or will
ever do !
When the years were over at West Point, each
"four times as long as Ohio years," young Grant
was anxious to enter the cavalry, especially as he
had suffered from a cough for six months, and his
family feared consumption. Having gone home,
he waited anxiously for his new uniform. " I was
impatient," he says, " to get on my uniform and
see how it looked, and probably wanted my old
school-mates, particularly the girls, to see me in
it. The conceit was knocked out of me by two
little circumstances that happened soon alter the
arrival of the clothes, which gave me a distaste
for military uniform that I never recovered from.
Soon after the arrival of the suit I donned it, and
put off for Cincinnati on horseback. While I was
riding along a street of that city, imagining that
every one was looking at me with a feeling akin
to mine when I first saw General Scott, a little
urchin, bareheaded, barefooted, with dirty and
ragged pants held up by a single gallows — that's
what suspenders were called then — and a shirt that
had not seen a washtub for weeks, turned to me
and cried : < Soldier, will you work ? No sir-ee ;
I'll sell my shirt first ! ' The horse trade and its
dire consequences were recalled to mind.
" The other circumstance occurred at home.
Opposite our house in Bethel stood the old stage
tavern where 'man and beast' found accommoda-
tion. The stable-man was rather dissipated, but
U. S. GRANT. 315
possessed of some humor. On my return, I found
him parading the streets, and attending in the
stable, barefooted, but in a pair of sky-blue nan-
keen pantaloons — justr the color of my uniform
trousers — with a strip of white cotton sheeting
sewed down the outside seams in imitation of mine.
The joke was a huge one in the minds of many of
the people, and was much enjoyed by them ; but I
did not appreciate it so highly."
In September, 1843, Grant reported for duty at
Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, the largest military
post in the United States at that time. His hope
was to become assistant professor of mathematics
at West Point, and he would have been appointed
had not the Mexican War begun soon after.
A new page was now to be turned in the event-
ful life of the young officer ; when he was to have,
as Emerson beautifully says of love, " the visita-
tion of that power to his heart and brain which
created all things anew ; which was the dawn in
him of music, poetry, and art ; which made the
face of nature radiant with purple light ; the morn-
ing and the night varied enchantments ; when a
single tone of one voice could make the heart bound,
and the most trivial circumstance associated with
one form is put in the amber of memory ; when he
became all eye when one was present, and all mem-
ory when one was gone ; . . . when the moonlight
was a pleasing fever, and the stars were letters,
and the flowers ciphers, and the air was coined
into song; when all business seemed an imperti-
316 U. S. GRANT.
nence, and all the men and women running to and
fro in the streets were pictures."
At West Point, Grant's class-mate was F. T.
Dent, whose family resided five miles west of Jef-
ferson Barracks. " Two of his unmarried broth-
ers," says Grant, "were living at home at that
time, and, as I had taken with me from Ohio my
horse, saddle, and bridle, I soon found my way out
to White Haven, the name of the Dent estate.
As I found the family congenial, my visits became
frequent. There were at home, besides the young
men, two daughters, one a school miss of fifteen,
the other a girl of eight or nine. There was still
an older daughter, of seventeen, who had been
spending several years at boarding-school in St.
Louis, but who, though through school, had not
yet returned home. ... In February she returned
to her country home. After that I do not know
but my visits became more frequent ; they cer-
tainly did become more enjoyable. We would of-
ten take walks, or go on horseback together to
visit the neighbors, until I became quite well
acquainted in that vicinity. ... If the fourth in-
fantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks it is
possible, even probable, that this life might have
continued for some years without my finding out
that there was anything serious the matter with
me ; but in the following May a circumstance oc-
curred which developed my sentiment so palpably
that there was no mistaking it."
This "circumstance" was the annexation of
U. S. GEANT. 317
Texas, the probability of a war with Mexico, and
the necessity of leaving Jefferson Barracks for the
Texan frontier. Alas ! now that days full of hope,
and the sweet realization of a divine companion-
ship had come, they must have sudden ending.
Grant took a brief furlough, went to say good-bye
to his father and mother, and then to White Haven
to see Julia Dent. In crossing a swollen stream,
his uniform was wet through, but he donned the
suit of a future brother-in-law, and appeared be-
fore his beloved to ask her hand in marriage, to
receive her acceptance, and then to hasten to the
scene of action. He saw her but once in the next
four years and three months ; four anxious years to
her, when death often stared her lover in the face.
As soon as Texas was admitted to the Union, in
1845, the " army of occupation," as the three thou-
sand men under General Zachary Taylor were
called, advanced to the Rio Grande and built a fort.
When the first hostile gun was fired, Grant says,
" I felt sorry that I had enlisted. A great many
men, when they smell battle afar off, chafe to get
into the fray. When they say so themselves, they
generally fail to convince their hearers that they
are as anxious as they would like to make believe,
and as they approach danger they become more
subdued. This rule is not universal, for I have
known a few men who were always aching for a
fight when there was no enemy near, who were as
good as their word when the battle did come on.
But the number of such men is small."
U. S. GRANT.
The first battle was at Palo Alto, meaning "tall
trees or woods," six miles from the Rio Grande.
Early in the forenoon of May 8, Taylor's three
thousand men were drawn up in line of battle,
opposed by superior numbers. The infantry was
armed with flintlock muskets and paper cartridges
charged with powder, buckshot, and ball. " At
the distance of a few hundred yards," says Grant,
" a man might fire at you all day without your find-
ing it out." The artillery consisted of two batteries
and two eighteen-pounder iron guns, with three or
four twelve-pounder howitzers throwing shell. The
firing was brisk on both sides. One cannon-ball
passed near Grant, killing several of his compan-
ions. After a hard day's fight, the enemy retreated
in the night. The war had now begun in earnest,
and the man who at the first hostile gun "felt
sorry that he had enlisted " was ready to brave
danger on any field.
In the hard-fought battle of Monterey, between
sixty-five hundred men under Taylor and ten thou-
sand Mexicans, Grant's curiosity got the better of
his judgment, and, leaving the camp, where he had
been ordered to remain, he mounted a horse and
rode to the front. He made the charge with the
men, when about a third of their number were
killed. He loaned his horse to the adjutant of the
regiment, Lieutenant Hoskins, who was soon killed,
and Grant was designated to act in his place.
The ammunition became low, and to return for it
was so dangerous that the general commanding did
U. S. GRANT. 319
not like to order any one to fetch it, so called for a
volunteer. Grant modestly says, " I volunteered
to go back to the point we had started from. . . .
My ride back was an exposed one. Before starting,
I adjusted myself on the side of my horse furthest
from the enemy, and with only one foot holding to
the cantle of the saddle, and an arm over the neck
of the horse exposed, I started at full run. It was
only at street-crossings that my horse was under
fire, but these I crossed at such a flying rate that
generally I was past and under cover of the next
block of houses before the enemy fired. I got out
safely, without a scratch."
When Monterey was conquered, and the garrison
marched out as prisoners, young Grant was moved
to pity, as he says in his Memoirs, thus showing a
gentle nature, which he bore years later when thou-
sands were falling around him, and he was still
obliged to say, "Forward."
After the capture of Vera Cruz and the surprise
at Cerro Gordo, where three thousand Mexicans
were made prisoners, the army advanced toward the
City of Mexico. Between three and four miles
from the city stood Molino del Rey, the "mill of
the King," an old stone structure, one story high,
flat-roofed, and several hundred feet long. Sand-
bags were laid along the roof, and good marksmen
fought behind them. Near by was Chepultepec,
three hundred feet high, fortified on the top and on
its rocky sides. From the front, guns swept the
approach to Molino. Yet, on the morning of Sep-
320 V. S. GRANT.
tember 8, the assault upon Molino was made, young
Grant being among the foremost. The loss was
severe, especially among commissioned officers.
Grant says, "I was with the earliest of the
troops to enter the mills. In passing through to
the north side, looking toward Chepultepec, I hap-
pened to notice that there were armed Mexicans
still on top of the building, only a few feet from
many of our men. Xot seeing any stairway or lad-
der reaching to the top of the building, I took a
few soldiers, and had a cart that happened to be
standing near brought up, and, placing the shafts
against the wall, and chocking the wheels so that
the cart could not back, used the shafts as a sort of
ladder, extending to within three or four feet of
the top. By this I climbed to the roof of the
building, followed by a few men, but found a pri-
vate soldier had preceded me by some other way.
There were still quite a number of Mexicans on
the roof, among them a major and five or six offi-
cers of lower grades, who had not succeeded in
getting away before our troops occupied the build-
ing. They still had their arms, while the soldier
before mentioned was walking as sentry, guarding
the prisoners he had surrounded, all by himself. I
halted the sentinel, received the swords from the
commissioned officers, and proceeded, with the
assistance of the soldiers now with me, to disable
the muskets by striking them against the edge
of the wall, and throwing them to the ground
below."
U. S. GRANT. 321
Five days after the fall of Molino. Chepultepec
was taken, with severe loss. Grant was mentioned
in the official report as having " behaved with dis-
tinguished gallantly." Just before the City of
Mexico fell into our hands, Grant was made first
lieutenant. Promotion had not come rapidly. It
is sometimes better if success does not come to us
early in life. To learn how to work steadily, day
after day, with an unalterable purpose ; to learn
how to concentrate thought and will-power, how to
conquer self through failure and hope deferred, is
often essential for him who is to govern either by
physical or moral power.
After Mexico fell, and General Scott lived in the
halls of the Montezumas, he controlled the city as
a Havelock or a Gordon might have done; and
Grant learned by observation the best of all les-
sons for a soldier, to be magnanimous to a fallen
foe. He learned other valuable lessons in this
war; made the acquaintance of the officers with
whom he was to measure his strength, in the
most stupendous war of modern times, twenty
years later.
When the treaty of peace was signed between
our country and Mexico, February 2, 1848, whereby
we paid fifteen million dollars for the territory
ceded to us, Grant obtained leave of absence for
four months. One person must have been inex-
pressibly thankful that his life had been spared.
Four years, and she had seen him but once ! How
noble we often become by the mellowing power of
322 U. S. GRANT.
circumstances which prevent our having our own
way ! Discipline may be only another word for
achievement.
U. S. Grant and Julia Dent were married August
22, 1848, when he was twenty-six, and began a life
of affection and helpfulness, which grew brighter till
the end came on Mt. McGregor. There was reason
why the affection lasted through all the years ; in
the best sense they lived for each other. Those
who find their happiness outside the home are apt
to find little inside the home. Devotion begets de-
votion, and men and women must expect to receive
only what they give. Affection scattered produces
a scanty harvest.
The winter of 1848 was spent at the post at
Sackett's Harbor, New York; the next two years
at Detroit, Michigan. In 1852, Grant was ordered
to the Pacific coast. And now the young husband
and wife must be separated ; she to go to her home
in St. Louis, and he to the then unsettled West.
When Aspinwall was reached the streets of the town
were a foot under water, in a blazing, tropical sun.
Cholera broke out among the troops, as it had
among the inhabitants, and a third of the people
died. The crossing of the Isthmus of Panama, on
the backs of mules, was tedious and trying. San
Francisco was reached early in September. The
gold-mining fever was at its height. Soon the
troops passed up to Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia
River, and a quiet and dull life began. Measles
and small-pox were killing the Indians so rapidly
U. S. GRANT. 323
that the gun of the white man was superfluous as
an agent of destruction.
In 1854, six years after Grant's marriage, de-
spairing of supporting his wife and two children on
the Pacific coast with his pay as an army officer,
he resigned. His prospects now were not bright.
Without a profession, save that of arms, he was to
begin, at thirty-two, a struggle for support, which
must have tested the affection of the woman who
married the young officer in her hopeful girlhood.
She owned a farm in St. Louis, and thither they
moved as their home. He says of the farm : " I
had no means to stock it. A house had to be
built also. I worked very hard, never losing a day
because of bad weather^ and accomplished the
object in a moderate way. If nothing else could
be done, I would load a cord of wood on a wagon
and take it to the city for sale. I managed to
keep along very well until 1858, when I was
attacked by fever and ague. I had suffered very
severely and for a long time from this disease
while a boy in Ohio. It lasted now over a year,
and, while it did not keep me in the house, it did
interfere greatly with the amount of work I was
able to perform. In the fall of 1858 I sold out my
stock, crops, and farming utensils at auction, and
gave up farming."
Four years of struggling had not paid pecuni-
arily. Poverty is not a pleasant school in which
to be nurtured. Blessings upon those who do not
grow harsh or discontented Avith its bitter lessons.
324 V- S. GRANT.
To keep sunshine in the face when want knocks at
the heart is to win the victory in a dreadful battle.
And yet many are able to accomplish this, and
brighten with their happy faces lives more pros-
perous than their own.
In the winter of 1858 Captain Grant established
a partnership with a cousin of his wife in the real
estate business. Again separation came. The
little family were left on the farm while the
father tried another method of earning a living for
them. " Our business," he says, " might have
become prosperous if I had been able to wait for
it to grow. As it was, there was no more than one
person could attend to, and not enough to support
two families. While a citizen of St. Louis, and
engaged in the real estate agency business, I was a
candidate for the office of county engineer, an
office of respectability and emolument which would
have been very acceptable to me at that time.
The incumbent was appointed by the county court,
which consisted of five members. My opponent
had the advantage of birth over me (he was a citi-
zen by adoption), and carried off the prize. I now
withdrew from the co-partnership with Boggs, and,
in May, 1860, removed to Galena. Illinois, and took
a clerkship in my father's store."
He was once more in the tannery business, which
he had so hated when a boy. It is well that men
and women are spurred to duty because somebody
depends upon them for daily food, otherwise this
life of often uncongenial labor would be unbear-
U. S. GRANT. 325
able. We rarely do what we like to do in this
world ; — we do what the merciless goad of circum-
stance forces us to do. He is wise who goes to his
work with a smile.
The year 1860 opened upon a new era in this
country. Slavery and anti-slavery had struggled
together till the election of Abraham Lincoln to
the presidency told that the decisive hour had
come. The nation could no longer exist " half
slave and half free."
When Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated, March 4,
1861, the Southern States seceded, one after
another, until eleven had separated from the
Union. Most of the Southern forts were already
in the hands of the Confederates. Fort Sumter, in
the harbor of Charleston, still remained under the
control of the Union. While besieged by the
South, an effort was made to send supplies to our
starving garrison. The fort was fired upon April
11, 1861, and that shot, like the one at Concord,
was " heard round the world."
From that hour slavery was doomed. The Pres-
ident issued his first call for seventy-five thousand
volunteers for ninety days. The North and West
seemed to respond as one man. The intense ex-
citement reached the little town of Galena. The
citizens were at once called together. Business
was suspended. In the evening the court-house
was packed. Captain Grant was asked to conduct
the meeting. The people naturally turned to one
who understood battles, when they saw war close at
326 U. S. GRANT.
hand. With much embarrassment Grant presided.
The leather business was finished for him from that
eventful night. The women of Galena were as
deeply interested as the men. They came to Grant
to obtain a description of the United States uni-
form for infantry, subscribed and bought the mate-
rial, procured tailors to cut the garments, and
made them with their own willing hands. More
and more, with their superior education, women
are to play an important part in this country, both
in peace and war.
Captain Grant was now asked by Governor Yates,
of Illinois, to go into the adjutant-general's office,
and render such assistance as he could, which posi-
tion he accepted, but he modestly says, " I was no
clerk, nor had I any capacity to become one. The
only place I ever found in my life to put a paper
so as to find it again was either a side coat-pocket
or the hands of a clerk or secretary more careful
than myself. But I had been quartermaster, com-
missary, and adjutant in the field. The army forms
were familiar to me, and I could direct how they
should be made out."
Though a man of few words, those few could be
effective if Grant chose to use them. Meeting in
St. Louis, in a street-car, a young braggart, who
said to him, " Where I came from, if a man dares
to say a word in favor of the Union we hang him
to a limb of the first tree we come to," Grant
replied, " We are not so intolerant in St. Louis as we
might be. I have not seen a single rebel hung yet,
U. S. GRANT. 327
nor heard of one. There are plenty of them who
ought to be, however." The young man did not con-
tinue the conversation. In May, 1861, Grant wrote
a letter to the adjutant-general of the army at
Washington, saying that, as he had been in the reg-
ular army for fifteen years, and educated at govern-
ment expense, he tendered his services for the war.
No notice was ever taken of the letter, and, of
course, no answer was returned. Soon after he
spent a week with his parents, in Covington, Ken-
tucky. Twice he called upon Major-General Mc-
Clellan, at Cincinnati, just across the river, whom
he had known slightly in the Mexican War, with
the hope that he would be offered a position on his
staff. But he failed to see the general, and re-
turned to Illinois. He was not to serve under Mc-
Clellan. A different destiny awaited him.
President Lincoln now called for three hundred
thousand men to enlist for three years or the war.
Governor Yates appointed Grant colonel of the
Twenty-First Illinois regiment. Another separa-
tion from wife and children had come ; the begin-
ning of a great career had come also. The regiment
repaired to Springfield, Illinois, and, after some time
spent in drill, was ordered to move against Colonel
Thomas Harris, encamped at the little town of
Florida. There was no bravado in the man who
had fought so bravely in all the battles of the Mex-
ican War. He says : " As we approached the brow
of the hill from which it was expected we could
see Harris' camp, and possibly find his men ready
328 U. S. GRANT.
formed to meet us, my heart kept getting higher
and higher until it felt to me as though it was in
my throat. I would have given anything then to
have been back in Illinois, but I had not the moral
courage to halt and consider what to do ; I kept
right on. When we reached a point from which
the valley below was in full view, I halted. The
place where Harris had been encamped a few days
before was still there, and the marks of a recent
encampment were plainly visible, but the troops
were gone. My heart resumed its place. It oc-
curred to me at once that Harris had been as much
afraid of me as I had been of him. This was a
view of the question I had never taken before, but
it was one I never forgot afterwards. From that
event to the close of the war, I never experienced
trepidation upon confronting an enemy, though I
always felt more or less anxiety. I never forgot
that he had as much reason to fear my forces as I
had his. The lesson was valuable."
Soon after this Lincoln asked the Illinois delega-
tion in Congress to recommend some citizens of
the State for the position of brigadier-general, and
Grant, to his great surprise, was recommended first
on a list of seven. After his appointment he spent
several weeks in Missouri, whither he had been
ordered. His first battle was at Belmont, where,
in a severe engagement of four hours, the loss on
our side was 485, and the Confederate loss 642.
Grant's horse was shot under him. After the bat-
tle the Confederates received reinforcements, and
U. S. GRANT. 329
there was danger that our men could not return to
the transports on which they had come to Belmont.
"We are surrounded," they cried.
" Well," said their cool leader, " if that be so,
we must cut our way out as we cut our way in ; "
and so they did.
Grant, meantime, rode out into a cornfield alone
to observe the enemy. While there, as he after-
wards learned, the Southern General Polk and one
of his staff saw the Union soldier, and said to their
men, " There is a Yankee ; you may try your marks-
manship on him if you wish ; " but, strangely
enough, nobody fired, and Grant's valuable life was
spared.
He soon perceived that he was the only man
between the Confederates and the boats. His
horse seemed to realize the situation. Grant says :
"There was no path down the bank, and every one
acquainted with the Mississippi Elver knows that
its banks, in a natural state, do not vary at any
great angle from the perpendicular. My horse put
his fore feet over the bank without hesitation or
urging, and, with his hind feet well under him,
slid down the bank and trotted aboard the boat,
twelve or fifteen feet away, over a single gang-
plank. I dismounted and went at once to the
upper deck. . . . When I first went on deck I
entered the captain's room, adjoining the pilot-
house, and threw myself on a sofa. I did not
keep that position a moment, but rose to go out on
the deck to observe what was going on. I had
330 U. S. GRANT.
scarcely left when a musket-ball entered the room,
struck the head of the sofa, passed through it, and
lodged in the boat/' Thus again was his life
saved.
Until February of the following year, 1862, little
was done by the troops, except to become ready
for the great work before them. The enemy occu-
pied strong points on the Tennessee and Cumber-
land rivers, at Forts Henry and Donelson, points
as essential to us as to them. These Grant deter-
mined to take, if possible. Truly said President
Lincoln, " Wherever Grant is things move. I have
noticed that from the beginning."
On February 2 the expedition started against
Fort Henry, with about seventeen thousand men.
Several gun-boats, under Commodore Foote, accom-
panied the army. At a given hour the troops and
gun-boats moved together, the one to invest the
garrison, the other to attack the fort. After a severe
fight of an hour and a half every gun was silenced.
General Lloyd Tilghman surrendered, with his
seventeen heavy guns, ammunition, and stores.
Fort Donelson must now be taken, strongly for-
tified as it was. It stood on high ground, with
rifle-pits running back two miles from the river,
and was defended by fifteen heavy guns, two car-
ronades, and sixty -five pieces of artillery. Outside
the rifle-pits, trees had been felled, so that the tops
lay toward the attacking army. Our men had no
shelter from the snow and rain in this midwinter
siege. No campfires could be allowed where the
U. S. GRANT. 331
enemy could see them. In the march from Fort
Henry to Fort Donelson numbers of the tired
troops had thrown away their blankets and over-
coats, and there was much real suffering. But
war means discomfort and woe as well as death
itself.
At three o'clock, February 14, Commodore
Foote's gun-boats attacked the water batteries, and
after a severe encounter several of them were disa-
bled. The one upon which the commodore stood
was hit about sixty times, one shot killing the
pilot, carrying away the wheel, and wounding the
commander. The night came on intensely cold.
The next morning, the enemy, taking heart, came
against the national forces to cut their way out.
Then Grant rode among his men, saying, "Which-
ever party first attacks now will whip, and the
rebels will have to be very quick if they beat me.
. . . Fill your cartridge-boxes quick, and get into
line ; the enemy is trying to escape, and he must
not be permitted to do so."
Our men worked their way through the abatis
of trees, took the outer line of rifle-pits, and
bivouacked within the enemy's lines. A driving
storm of snow and hail set in, and many soldiers
were frozen on that dismal night. There must
have been little sleep amid the firing of the Con-
federate pickets and the groans of the wounded on
that frozen ground.
During the night the Confederate Generals
Floyd and Pillow left the fort with three thousand
332 U. 8. GRANT.
men and Forrest with another thousand. On the
morning of February 16, Brigadier-General S. B.
Buckner sent a note to General Grant, suggesting
an armistice. The following reply was returned at
once : —
" Sir, — Yours of this date, proposing armistice
and appointment of commissioners to settle terms
of capitulation, is just received. No terms except
an unconditional and immediate surrender can be
accepted. I propose to move immediately upon
your works."
From that day U. S. Grant became to the people
of the North " Unconditional Surrender " Grant ;
precious words, indeed, to the army as well as the
people, to whom decisive action meant peace at last.
General Buckner considered the terms "ungen-
erous and unchivalrous," but he surrendered his
sixty-five guns, seventeen thousand six hundred
small arms, and nearly fifteen thousand troops.
Our loss in killed, wounded, and missing was
about two thousand ; the Confederate loss was be-
lieved to be about twenty-five hundred.
This victory, the first great victory of the war,
caused much rejoicing at the North, and Grant was
at once made major-general of volunteers. Two
weeks from this time he was virtually under arrest
for not conforming to orders which he never re-
ceived, but he was soon restored to his position.
The country was to learn later, what Lincoln
learned early in the war, that one head for an
army is better than several heads.
U. S. GRANT. 333
The next great battle under Grant was at Shiloh,
near Pittsburg Landing. On the morning of April
6, 1862, the Confederates, under General Albert
Sidney Johnston and Beauregard, rushed upon the
national lines. All day Sunday the battle raged,
and at night the Union forces had fallen back a
mile in the rear of their position in the morning.
Sherman, who commanded the ridge on which stood
the log meeting-house of Shiloh, was twice shot,
once in the hand and once in the shoulder, a third
ball passing through his hat. Grant could well say
of this brave officer, " I never deemed it important
to stay long with Sherman."
During the night after the desperate battle the
rain fell in torrents upon the two armies, who slept
upon their arms. General Grant's headquarters
were under a tree, a few hundred yards back from
the river. " Some time after midnight," he says,
" growing restive under the storm and the contin-
uous rain, I moved back to the log house under the
bank. This had been taken as a hospital, and all
night wounded men were brought in, their wounds
dressed, a leg or an arm amputated, as the case
might require, and everything being done to save
life or alleviate suffering. The sight was more un-
endurable than encountering the enemy's fire, and
I returned to my tree in the rain."
In battle, the great general could look on men
falling about him apparently unmoved ; when the
battle was over, he could not bear the sight of
pain. The men revered him, because, while he
334 V. S. GRANT.
led them into death, he almost surely led them
into victory.
On April 7 the battle raged all along the line,
and the enemy were everywhere driven back. At
three o'clock Grant gathered up a couple of regi-
ments, formed them into line of battle, and marched
them forward, going in front himself to prevent long-
range firing. The command '•' Charge " was given,
and it was executed with loud cheers and a run,
and the enemy broke. Grant came near losing
his life. A ball struck the metal scabbard of
his sword, just below the hilt, and broke it
nearly off. iNight closed upon a victorious Union
army, but the victory had been gained at a fearful
cost.
" Shiloh," says General Grant, " was the severest
battle fought at the West during the war, and but
few in the East equalled it for hard, determined
fighting. I saw an open field, in our possession on
the second day, over which the Confederates had
made repeated charges the day before, so covered
with dead that it would have been possible to walk
across the clearing, in any direction, stepping on
dead bodies, without a foot touching the ground.
On our side national and Confederate troops were
mingled together in about equal proportions ; but on
the remainder of the field nearly all were Confed-
erates. On one part, which had evidently not been
ploughed for several years, probably because the
land was poor, bushes had grown up, some to the
height of eight or ten feet. There was not one of
U. S. GRANT. 335
these left standing unpierced by bullets. The
smaller ones were all cut down."
During the first day the brave Albert Sidney
Johnston was wounded. He would not leave the
battle-field, but continued in the saddle, giving
commands, till, exhausted by loss of blood, he was
taken from his horse, and died soon after. The
Union loss was reported to be over thirteen thou-
sand. Some estimate the losses as not less than
fifteen thousand on each side. Up to this time,
Grant had hoped that a few such victories as Fort
Donelson would dishearten the South ; now he saw
that conquest alone could compel peace, with a
brave and heroic people, of our own blood and
race. From this time the work of laying waste
the enemy's country began, with the hope that the
sooner supplies were exhausted the sooner peace
would be possible.
On October 25, the battle of Corinth having been
fought October 3, General Grant was placed in
command of the Department of the Tennessee,
and began the Vicksburg campaign. The capture
of this place would afford free navigation of the
Mississippi. For three months plan after plan was
tried for the reduction of this almost impregnable
position. Sherman made a direct attack at the
only point where a landing was practicable, and
failed. Grant's army was stationed on the west
bank of the river, on marshy ground, full of mala-
ria, from recent rains. The troops were ill of
fever, measles, and small-pox, and many died.
U. 8. GRANT.
There could be found scarcely enough dry land on
which to pitch their tents.
It was finally decided to cut a canal across the
peninsula in front of Vicksburg, that the gun-boats
might safely pass through to a point below the
city. Four thousand men began work on the canal,
but a sudden rise in the river broke the dam and
stopped the work. A second method was tried, by
breaking levees and widening and connecting
streams between Lake Providence, seventy miles
above Vicksburg, through the Red River, into the
Mississippi again four hundred miles below, but
this project was soon abandoned. Meantime, the
North had become restless, and many clamored for
Grant's removal, declaring him incompetent, but,
amid all the reproaches, he kept silent. When
Lincoln was urged to make a change, he said sim-
ply, " I rather like the man ; I think we'll try him
a little longer ! "
At length it was decided to attempt to rufl the
gun-boats past the batteries, march the troops down
the west bank of the river, cross over to the east
side, and attack the rear of Vicksburg. The
steamers were protected as far as possible with
bales of hay, cotton, and grain, for the boilers
could not bear the enemy's fire. On the 16th of
April, 1863, on a dark night, the fleet was ready for
the dangerous passage. As soon as the boats were
discovered, the batteries opened fire, piles of com-
bustibles being lighted along the shore that proper
aim might be taken against the fleet. Every trans-
U. S. GRANT. 337
port was struck. As fast as the shots made holes,
the men put cotton bags in the openings. For
nearly three hours the eight gun-boats and three
steamers were under a merciless fire. The Henry
Clay was disabled, and soon set on fire by the
bursting of a shell in the cotton packed about her
boilers. Grant watched the passage of the fleet
from a steamer in the river, and felt relieved as
though the victory were close at hand.
Soon after, the whole force of thirty-three thou-
sand men were crossed below Vicksburg. Fifty
miles to the east, the Confederate General Joseph
E. Johnston had a large army, which must be crip-
pled before Vicksburg could be besieged. Port
Gibson, near the river, was first taken by our
troops ; then Raymond, May 12 ; Jackson, May 18 ;
Champion Hill, May 16; and then Black River
Bridge. Grant had beaten Johnston in the rear ;
now he must beat Pemberton with his nearly fifty
thousand men shut up in Vicksburg.
On May 19, the city of Vicksburg was completely
invested by otfr troops. Says General Grant,
" Five distinct battles had been fought and won by
the Union forces ; the capital of the State had
fallen, and its arsenals, military manufactories, and
everything useful for military purposes had been
destroyed ; an average of about one hundred and
eighty miles had been marched by the troops en-
gaged ; but five days' rations had been issued, and
no forage ; over six thousand prisoners had been
captured, and as many more of the enemy had been
338 U. 8. GRANT.
killed or wounded ; twenty-seven heavy cannon.
and sixty -one field-pieces had fallen into our hands ;
and four hundred miles of the river, from Vicks-
burg to Port Hudson, had become ours."
And now the siege began. By June 30, there
were two hundred and twenty guns in position, be-
sides a battery of heavy guns, manned and com-
manded by the navy. The besiegers had no mor-
tars, save those of the navy in front of the city,
but they took tough logs, bored them out for six or
twelve-pound shells, bound them with strong iron
bands, and used them effectively in the trenches of
the enemy.
The eyes of the whole country were centred on
Vicksburg. Mines were dug by both armies, and
exploded. Among the few men who reached the
ground alive after having been thrown up by the
explosions was a colored man, badly frightened.
Some one asked how high he had gone up. " Dun-
no, massa; but tink 'bout free mile," was the
reply.
Meantime, the people in Vicksburg were living
in caves and cellars to escape the shot and shell.
Starvation began to stare them in the face. Flour
was sold at five dollars a pound ; molasses at ten
and twelve dollars a gallon. Yet the brave people
held out against surrender. A Confederate woman,
says General Badeau, in h^s graphic "Military His-
tory of U. S. Grant," asked Grant, tauntingly, as
he stopped at her house for water, if he ever ex-
pected to get into Vicksburg.
U. S. GRANT. 339
"Certainly," he replied.
" But when ? "
"I cannot tell exactly when I shall take the
town ; but 7 mean to stay here till I do, if it takes
me thirty years."
All through the siege, the men of both armies
talked to each other ; the Confederates and Union-
ists calling each other respectively " Yanks " and
" Johnnies.-'' " Well, Yank, when are you coming
into town ? "
" We propose to celebrate the Fourth of July
there, Johnnie."
The Vicksburg paper said, prior to the Fourth, in
speaking of the Yankee boast that they would take
dinner in Vicksburg that day, " The best receipt
for cooking a rabbit is. ' First ketch your rabbit ! ' '
The last number of the paper was issued on July
4, and said, " The Yankees have caught the rabbit."
On July 3, at ten o'clock, white flags began to
appear on the enemy's works, and two men were
seen coming towards the Union lines, bearing a
white flag. They bore a message from General
Pemberton, asking that an armistice be granted,
and three commissioners appointed to confer with
a like number named by Grant. "I make this
proposition to save the further effusion of blood,"
said General Pemberton, "which must otherwise
be shed to a frightful extent, feeling myself fully
able to maintain my position for a yet indefinite
period."
To this Grant replied : " The useless effusion of
340 U. S. GRANT.
blood you propose stopping by this course can be
ended at any time you choose, by the unconditional
surrender of the city and garrison. Men who have
shown so much endurance and courage as those
now in Vicksburg will always challenge the re-
spect of an adversary, and, I can assure you, will be
treated with all the respect due to prisoners of war."
In the afternoon of July 3, Grant and Pemberton
met under a stunted oak-tree, a few hundred yards
from the Confederate lines. They had known each
other in the Mexican War. A kindly conference
was held, and honorable terms of surrender agreed
upon, the officers taking their side-arms and cloth-
ing, and staff and cavalry officers one horse each.
When the men passed out of the works they had
so gallantly defended, not a cheer went up from
our men nor was a remark made that could cause
pain. The garrison surrendered at Vicksburg num-
bered over thirty-one thousand men, with sixty
thousand muskets, and over one hundred and sev-
enty cannon. Five days later, Port Hudson, lower
on the river, surrendered, with six thousand prison-
ers and fifty-one guns.
There was great rejoicing at the North. Lincoln
wrote to Grant : " My dear general, I do not remem-
ber that you and I have ever met personally. I
write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for
the almost inestimable service yoii have done the
country. I write to say a word further. When
you first reached the vicinity of Vicksburg, I
thought you should do what you finally did, march
U. 8. GRANT. 341
the troops across the neck, run the batteries with
the transports, and then go below; and I never
had any faith, except a general hope that you knew
better than I, that the Yazoo Pass expedition and
the like could succeed. When you got below and
took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I
thought you should go down the river and join
General Banks, and when you turned northward,
east of the Big Black, I feared it was a mistake.
I wish now to make the personal acknowledg-
ment that you were right and I was wrong."
Rare is that soul which is able to see itself in the
wrong, and rarer still one which has the generosity
to acknowledge it.
In October, Grant, who had now been made a
major-general in the regular army, as he had before
been appointed to the same rank in the volunteers,
was placed in command of the military division of
the Mississippi. Later he defeated Bragg at Chat-
tanooga, November 24 and 25, 1863, in the memo-
rable battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout
Mountain. General Halleck said in his annual
report, " Considering the strength of the rebel
position and the difficulty of storming his intrench-
ments, the battle of Chattanooga must be considered
the most remarkable in history. Not only did the
officers and men exhibit great skill and daring in
their operations on the field, but the highest praise
is due to the commanding general for his admirable
dispositions for dislodging the enemy from a posi-
tion apparently impregnable."
342 U. S. GRANT.
How our brave men fought at Missionary Eidge
and Lookout Mountain has never been more graph-
ically and touchingly told than by the late lamented
Benjamin F. Taylor : " They dash out a little way
and then slacken ; they creep up hand over hand,
loading and firing, and wavering and halting, from
the first line of works to the second ; they burst
into a charge, with a cheer, and go over it. Sheets
of flame baptize them ; plunging shots tear away
comrades on left and right ; it is no longer shoul-
der to shoulder ; it is God for us all ! Under tree-
trunks, among rocks, stumbling over the dead,
struggling with the living, facing the steady fire of
eight thousand infantry poured down upon their
heads as if it were the old historic curse from
heaven, they wrestle with the Ridge. Ten, fif-
teen, twenty minutes go by, like a reluctant cen-
tury. The batteries roll like a drum. Between
the second and last lines of rebel works is the tor-
rid zone of the battle. The hill sways up like a
wall before them at an angle of forty -five degrees,
but our brave mountaineers are clambering steadily
on — up — upward still ! . . They seem to be spurn-
ing the dull earth under their feet, and going up to
do Homeric battle with the greater gods."
When this costly victory had been gained, Presi-
dent Lincoln appointed a day of national thanks-
giving. Congress passed a unanimous vote of
thanks to Grant and his officers and men, and or-
dered a medal to be struck in his honor : his face
on one side, surrounded by a laurel wreath j on the
U. 8. GRANT. 343
other side, Fame seated on the American eagle,
holding in her right hand a scroll with the words,
Corinth, Vicksburg, Mississippi Kiver, and Chatta-
nooga.
Early in 1864, a distinguished honor was paid
him. Since the death of Washington, only one
man had been 'appointed a lieutenant-general in
the army of the United States, — Winfield Scott.
Congress now revived this grade, and on March 1,
1864, Lincoln appointed Grant to this position.
On March 9, before the President and his cabinet,
his commission was formally presented to him,
Lincoln saying, " As the country herein trusts you,
so, under God, it will sustain you." Grant now had
all the Union armies under his control — over seven
hundred thousand men. When he was in the
Galena leather store, men said his life was a fail-
ure ! Was it a failure now ? And yet he was the
same modest, unostentatious man as when he
tried farming to support his beloved family.
Immediately Grant planned two great campaigns :
one against Richmond, which was defended by
Lee ; the other against Atlanta, under Sherman,
defended by Joseph E. Johnston. Sherman's march
to the sea immortalized him ; Grant's march to
Richmond was the crowning success in the greatest
of modern wars. President Lincoln, reposed the
"utmost confidence in Grant. He wrote him :
" The particulars of your plans I neither know nor
seek to know. You are vigilant and self-reliant,
and, pleased with this, I wish not to obtrude any
344 U. S. GRANT.
constraints or restraints upon you. While I am
very anxious that any great disaster or the capture
of our men in great numbers shall be avoided, I
know these points are less likely to escape your
attention than they would be mine. If there is
anything wanting which is within my power to
give, do not fail to let me know it. And now, with
a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain
you."
The end was coming. On May 4, 1864, Grant
crossed the Rapidan with the Army of the Poto-
mac, about one hundred and twenty thousand men,
intending to put his forces between Lee and Rich-
mond. Lee, perceiving this design, met the army
at the Wilderness, a portion of country covered by
a dense forest. The undergrowth was so heavy
that it was scarcely possible to see more than one
hundred paces in any direction. All day long,
May 5, a bloody battle was waged in the woods.
Says Private Frank Wilkeson, "I heard the
hum of bullets as they passed over the low trees.
Then I noticed that small limbs of trees were
falling in a feeble shower in advance of me. It was
as though an army of squirrels were at work cut-
ting off nut and pine-cone laden branches prepara-
tory to laying in their winter's store of food.
Then, partially obscured by a cloud of powder
smoke, I saw a straggling line of men clad in blue.
They were not standing as if on parade, but they
were taking advantage of the cover afforded by
trees, and they were firing rapidly. Their line
U. S. GRANT. 345
officers were standing behind them or in line with
them. The smoke drifted to and fro, and there
were many rifts in it. ... We had charged, and
charged, and charged again, and had gone wild
with battle fever. We had gained about two
miles of ground. We were doing splendidly. I
cast my eyes upward to see the sun, so as to judge
of the time, as I was hungry, and wanted to eat,
and I saw that it was still low above the trees.
The Confederates seemed to be fighting more
stubbornly, fighting as though their battle-line was
being fed with more troops. They hung on to the
ground they occupied tenaciously, and resolutely
refused to fall back further. Then came a swish
of bullets and a fierce exultant yell, as of thou-
sands of infuriated tigers. Our men fell by scores.
Great gaps were 'struck in our lines. There was
a lull for an instant, and then Longstreet's men
sprang to the charge. It was swiftly and bravely
made, and was within an ace of being successful.
There was great confusion in our line. The men
wavered badly. They fired wildly. They hesi-
tated. . . . The regimental officers held their men
as well as they could. We could hear them close
behind us, or in line with us, saying, 'Steady,
men, steady, steady, steady ! ' as one speaks to
frightened and excited horses."
Grant says, "More desperate fighting has not
been witnessed on this continent than that of May
5 and 6. ... The ground fought over had varied
in width, but averaged three-quarters of a mile.
346 U. S GRANT.
The killed and many of the severely wounded of
both armies lay within this belt where it was im-
possible to reach them. The woods were set on
flre by the bursting shells, and the conflagration
raged. The wounded who had not strength to
move themselves were either suffocated or burned
to death. Finally the fire communicated with our
breastworks in places. Being constructed of wood,
they burned with great fury. But the battle still
raged, our men firing through the flames until it
became too hot to remain longer."
After a loss of from fourteen to fifteen thou-
sand men on each side, Lee remained in his in-
trenchments and Grant still moved on toward
Richmond. The armies met at Spottsylvania Court-
House, and here was fought one of the bloodiest
battles of the war, with about the same loss as in
the Wilderness. Sometimes the conflict was hand
to hand, men using their guns as clubs, being too
close to fire. In one place a tree, eighteen inches
in diameter, was cut entirely down by musket
balls. Grant wrote to Washington, May 11 :
" We have now ended the sixth day of very hard
fighting. The result up to this time is much in
our favor. But our losses have been heavy, as
well as those of the enemy. We have lost to
this time eleven general officers killed, wounded,
and missing, and probably twenty thousand men.
I think the loss of the enemy must be greater.
We have taken over four thousand prisoners in
battle, whilst he has taken from us but few except
U. S. GRANT. 347
a few stragglers. I am now sending back to
Belle Plain all my wagons for a fresh supply of
provisions and ammunition, and purpose to fight it
out on this line if it takes all summer."
After this came the battles of Drury's Bluff,
North Anna, Totopotomoy, and Cold Harbor, with
its brilliant assault and deadly repulse, with a loss
of from ten to fourteen thousand men on the latter
field.
Lee had now been driven so near to Kichmond,
and the swamps -of the Chickahominy were so
impassable, that Grant determined to move his
army, one hundred and fifteen thousand men, south
of the James River and attack Kichmond in the
rear. The move was hazardous, but he reached
City Point safely. General Butler here joined
him, and the siege of Petersburg, twenty miles
below Richmond, began, and was continued through
the winter and spring.
On July 30, 1864, a mine was exploded under
one of the enemy's forts. The gallery to the mine
was. over five hundred feet long from where it
entered the ground to the point where it was under
the enemy's works. Eight chambers had been left,
requiring a ton of powder each to charge them.
It exploded at five o'clock in the morning, making
a crater twenty feet deep and about one hundred
feet in length. Instantly one hundred and ten
cannon and fifty mortars commenced work to cover
our troops as they entered the enemy's lines. " The
effort," says Grant, " was a stupendous failure. It
348 U. 8. GRANT.
cost us about four thousand men, mostly, however,
captured, and all due to inefficiency on the part of
the corps commander and the incompetency of the
division commander who was sent to lead the as-
sault."
Meanwhile Sheridan had destroyed the power of
the South in the Shenandoah valley. Again the
army began its march toward Kichmond. On April
1, 1865, the battle of Five Forks was fought, nearly
six thousand Confederates being taken prisoners ;
then Petersburg was captured? and on April 3
General Weitzel took possession of Eichmond, the
enemy having evacuated it, the city having been
set on fire before their departure.
For five days Lee's army was pursued with more
or less fighting. On April 7, Grant wrote a letter
to Lee, saying : " The results of the last week must
convince you of the hopelessness of further resist-
ance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia
in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it
as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility
of any further effusion of blood, by asking of you
the surrender of that portion of the Confederate
States Army known as the Army of Northern Vir-
ginia."
Lee replied, " I reciprocate your desire to avoid
useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before con-
sidering your proposition, ask the terms you will
offer on condition of its surrender."
The answer came : " Peace being my great desire,
bhere is but one condition I would insist upon,
U. S. GRANT.
namely : that the men and officers surrendered
shall be disqualified for taking up arms again
against the government of the United States, until
properly exchanged."
A place of meeting was designated, and on April
9 Grant and Lee met at the house of a Mr. Mc-
Lean, at Appomattox Court-House. Grant says,
"When I had left camp that morning, I had not
expected so soon the result that was then taking
place, and consequently was in rough garb, and I was
without a sword, as I usually was when on horse-
back on the field, and wore a soldier's blouse for a
coat, with the shoulder-straps of my rank to indi-
cate to the army who I was. When I went into
the house I found General Lee. We greeted each
other, and, after shaking hands, took our seats. I
had my staff with me, a good portion of whom
were in the room during the whole of the interview.
" What General Lee's feelings were I do not know.
As he was a man of much dignity, with an impas-
sible face, it was impossible to say whether he felt
inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt
sad over the result, and was too manly to show it.
Whatever his feelings, they were entirely concealed
from my observation ; but my own feelings, which
had been quite jubilant on the receipt of his letter,
were sad and depressed. I felt like anything rather
than rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had
fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so
much for a cause, though that cause was, I believe,
one of the worst for which a people ever fought,
350 U. S. GRANT.
and one for which there was the least excuse. I
do not question, however, the sincerity of the great
mass of those who were opposed to us.
"General Lee was dressed in a full uniform
which was entirely new, and was wearing a sword
of considerable value, very likely the sword which
had been presented by the State of Virginia ; at all
events, it was an entirely different sword from the
one that would ordinarily be worn in the field. In
my rough travelling suit, the uniform of a private,
with the straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have
contrasted very strangely with a man so hand-
somely dressed, six feet high, and of faultless form.
But this was not a matter that I thought of until
afterwards."
When the terms of surrender were completed,
Lee remarked that his men had been living for
some days on parched corn exclusively, and asked
for rations and forage, which were cordially granted.
"When news of the surrender first reached our
lines," says Grant. " our men commenced firing a
salute of a hundred guns in honor of the victory.
I at once sent word, however, to have it stopped.
The Confederates were now our prisoners, and we
did not want to exult over their downfall." True
and noble spirit ! Twenty-seven thousand five hun-
dred and sixteen officers and men were paroled at
Appomattox. At the North, crowds came together
to pray and give thanks, in the churches, that the
war was over. Mourning garb seemed to be in
every house, and the joy was sanctified by tears.
U. S. GRANT. 351
The Army of the Potomac marched to Washington,
and was disbanded June 30.
The great war was ended. In July, 1866, Con-
gress created the rank of general for the heroic,
true-hearted, grand man, of quiet manner but in-
domitable will, who had saved the Union. He
was now but forty-four years of age, and what
a record !
Two years later, in 1868, at the Chicago Repub-
lican national convention, Grant was unanimously
nominated to the presidency. After the assassi-
nation of Lincoln, and the disagreement between
Congress and Andrew Johnson in the matter of
reconstruction, it was believed that Grant would
" settle things." To the committee from the con-
vention who announced his nomination to him, he
said, " I shall have no policy of my own to enforce
against the will of the people."
During the eight years of Grant's presidency,
from 1869 to 1877, the country was prosperous,
save the financial depression of 1873. The Ala-
bama claims were settled, whereby our country
received from Great Britain fifteen million five
hundred thousand dollars damages. Grant favored
the annexation of the island of Santo Domingo,
but the measure was defeated by Congress. The
International Exposition was held in Philadelphia
in 1876, with an average daily attendance, for
five months, of over sixty-one thousand persons.
While a large number of the people advocated a
third term for General Grant, a nation loving free-
352 V. S. GRANT.
dom hesitated to establish such a precedent, and
Rutherford B. Hayes was chosen President. It
was well, in the exciting times preceding this elec-
tion, when the number of votes for Hayes and
Tilden was decided by an electoral commission,
that a strong hand was on the helm of State, to
keep the peace.
After all these years of labor, General Grant
determined to make the tour of the world, and.
with his family and a few others, sailed for
Europe, May 17, 1877. From the moment they
arrived on the other side of the ocean to their
return, no American ever received such an ovation
as Grant. Thousands crowded the docks at Liver-
pool, and the mayor gave an address of welcome.
At Manchester, ten thousand people listened to
his brief address. "As I have been aware.'' he
said, " for years of the great amount of your manu-
factures, many of which find their ultimate desti-
nation in my own country, so I am aware that the
sentiments of the great mass of the people of
Manchester went out in sympathy to that coun-
try during the mighty struggle in which it fell to
my lot to take some humble part."
In London, the present Duke of Wellington
gave him a grand banquet at Apsley House. At
Marlborough House, the Prince of Wales i;nve
him private audience. The freedom of the city
of London was presented to him in a gold casket,
supported by golden American eagles, standing on
a velvet plinth decorated with stars and stripes.
U. 8. GRANT. 353
He and his family dined with the Queen, at Wind-
sor Castle.
In Scotland, the freedom of the city of Edin-
burgh was conferred upon him. At a grand ova-
tion at Newcastle, between forty and fifty thou-
sand people were gathered on the moor to see the
illustrious general. To the International Arbitra-
tion Union in Birmingham he said, "Nothing
would afford me greater happiness than to know,
as I believe will be the case, that at some future
day the nations of the earth will agree upon some
sort of congress which shall take cognizance of
international questions of difficulty, and whose
decisions will be as binding as the decision of our
Supreme Court is binding upon us." In Belgium,
the king called upon him, and gave a royal ban-
quet in his honor. In Berlin, Bismarck called
twice to see him, shaking hands cordially, and
saying, "Glad to welcome General Grant to Ger-
many." In Turkey, he was presented with some
beautiful Arabian horses by the Sultan. King
Humbert of Italy and the Czar of Russia showed
him marked attentions. In Norway and SAveden,
Spain, China, Egypt, and India, he was everywhere
received as the most distinguished general of the age.
On his return to America, at San Francisco and
Sacramento, thousands gathered to see him. At
Chicago, he said, in addressing the Army of the
Tennessee, " Let us be true to ourselves, avoid all
bitterness and ill-feeling, either on the part of
sections or parties toward each other, and we need
354 V. 8. GRANT.
have no fear in future of maintaining the stand
we have taken among nations, so far as opposition
from foreign nations goes.'' In Philadelphia,
where he was royally entertained by his friend
Mr. George W. Childs, he said to the Grand Army
of the Republic, "What I want to impress upon
you is that you have a country to be proud of, and
a country to fight for, and a country to die for if
need be. ... In no other country is the young
and energetic man given such a chance by industry
and frugality to acquire a competence for himself
and family as in America. Abroad it is difficult
for the poor man to make his way at all. All
that is necessary is to know this in order that we
may become better citizens." On his return to
New York, he was presented by his friends with a
home in that city, and also with the gift of two
hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
He was soon prevailed upon to enter a banking
firm with Ferdinand Ward and James D. Fish.
The bank failed, Grant found himself financially
ruined, and the two partners were sent to prison.
He was now to struggle again for a living, as in the
early days in the Galena leather store. A timely
offer came from the Century magazine, to write
his experiences in the Civil War. Very simply, so
that an uneducated person could understand, Grant
modestly and fairly described the great battles in
which he was of necessity the central figure. Un-
used to literary labor, he bent himself to the task,
working seven and eight hours a day.
U. S. GRANT. 355
On October 22, 1884, cancer developed in the
throat, and for nine months Grant fought with
death, till the two great volumes of his memoirs
could be completed and given to the world, that
his family might not be left dependent. Early in
June, 1885, as he was failing rapidly, he was taken
to Mt. McGregor, near Saratoga, where a cottage
had been offered him by Mr. Joseph "W. Drexel.
He worked now more heroically than ever, till the
last page was written, with the words : " The war
has made us a nation of great power and intelli-
gence. We have but little to do to preserve peace,
happiness, and prosperity at home, and the respect
of other nations. Our experience ought to teach
us the necessity of the first ; our power secures the
latter.
" I feel that we are on the eve of a new era,
when there is to be great harmony between the
Federal and Confederate. I cannot stay to be a
living witness to the correctness of this prophecy ;
but I feel it within me that it is to be so. The
universally kind feeling expressed for me at a time
when it was supposed that each day would prove
my last seemed to me the beginning of the answer
to ' Let us have peace.' "
Night and day the nation watched for tidings
from the bedside of the dying hero. At last, in
July, when he knew that the end was near, he
wrote an affectionate letter to the Julia Dent whom
he had loved in his early manhood, and put it in
his pocket, that she might read it after all was
356 *'. s. GRANT.
over. "Look after our dear children, and direct
them in the paths of rectitude. It would distress
me far more to think that one of them could de-
part from an honorable, upright, and virtuous life,
than it would to know that they were prostrated on
a bed of sickness from which they were never to
arise alive. They have never given us any cause
for alarm on their account, and I earnestly pray
they never will.
" With these few injunctions and the knowledge
I have of your love and affection, and of the duti-
ful affection of all our children, I bid you a final
farewell, until we meet in another, and, I trust, a
better world. You will find this on my person
after my demise." Blessed home affection, that
brightens all the journey, and makes human nature
well-nigh divine !
On July 23, 1885, a few minutes before eight
o'clock in the morning, the end came. In the
midst of his children, Colonel Frederick, Ulysses,
Jesse, and Xellie Grant-Sartoris, and his grand-
children, his wife bending over him, he_ sank to
rest. In every city and town in the land there
was genuine sorrow. Letters of sympathy came
from all parts of the world. Before the body was
put in its purple casket, the eldest son placed a
plain gold ring upon the little finger of the right
hand, the gift years before of his wife, but which
had grown too large for the emaciated finger in
life. In his pocket was placed a tiny package con-
taining a lock of Mrs. Grant's hair, in a good-bye
U. S. GRANT. 357
letter. Sweet and beautiful thought, to bury with
our dead something which belongs to a loved one,
that they may not sleep entirely alone !
"We shall wake, and remember, and under-
stand." Let the world laugh at sentiment out-
wardly— the hearts of those who laugh are often
hungering for affection !
The body, dressed in citizen's clothes, without
military, was laid in the casket. Then, in the little
cottage on the mountain-top, Dr. Newman, his pas-
tor, gave a beautiful address, from the words,
" Well done, thou good and faithful servant ; enter
thou into the joy of thy Lord." "His was the
genius of common-sense, enabling him to contem-
plate all things in their true relations, judging
what is true, useful, proper, expedient, and to
adopt the best means to accomplish the largest
ends. From this came his seriousness, thoughtful-
ness, penetration, discernment, firmness, enthusi-
asm, triumph. . . . Temperate without austerity;
cautious without fear ; brave without rashness ;
serious without melancholy, he was cheerful with-
out frivolity. His constancy was not obstinacy ;
his adaptation was not fickleness. His hopefulness
was not Utopian. His love of justice was equalled
only by his delight in compassion, and neither was
sacrificed to the other. . . . The keenest, closest,
broadest of all observers, he was the most silent of
men. He lived within himself. His thought-life
was most intense. His memory and his imagina-
tion were picture galleries of the world and libra-
358 f'. S. GRANT.
ries of treasured thought. He was a world to
himself. His most intimate friends knew him
only in part. He was fully and best known
only to the wife of his bosom and the children
of his loins. To them the man of iron will and
nerve of steel was gentle, tender, and confiding,
and to them he unfolded his beautiful religious
life."
After the services, the body of the great soldier
was placed upon the funeral car, and conveyed to
Albany, where it lay in state at the Capitol. At
midnight dirges were sung, while eager multitudes
passed by looking upon the face of the dead. Ar-
riving in New York, the casket was laid in the
midst of exquisite flowers in the City Hall. On
this very day memorial services were held in West-
minster Abbey, Canon Farrar delivering an elo-
quent address.
During the first night at the City Hall, about
fifteen thousand persons passed the coffin, and the
next day ninety thousand ; rich and poor, black
and white; men, women, and little children. A
man on crutches hobbled past the casket, bowed
with grief. " Move on," said one of the guards of
honor. " Yes," replied the old man, " as well as I
can I will. I left this leg in the Wilderness." An
aged woman wept as she said, " Oh ! general, I gave
you my husband, my sons, and my son's beautiful
boys."
On August 8, General Grant was laid in his tomb
at Riverside Park, on the Hudson River, a million
U. S. GRANT. 359
people joining in the sad funeral ceremonies. The
catafalque, with its black horses led by colored
grooms, moved up the street, followed by a proces-
sion four miles long. When the tomb was reached,
the casket, placed in a cedar covering, leaden lined,
was again enclosed in a great steel casket, round
like an immense boiler, weighing thirty-eight hun-
dred pounds. The only touching memento left
upon the coffin was a wreath of oak-leaves wrought
together by his grandchild Julia, on his dying day,
with the words, " To Grandpa." Guns were fired,
and cannon reverberated through the valley, as
the pall-bearers, Confederate and Union generals,
turned their footsteps away from the resting-place
of their great leader. It was fitting that North
and South should unite in his burial. Here, too,
will sometime be laid his wife, for before his
death he exacted a promise from his oldest son :
"Wherever I am buried, promise me that your
mother shall be buried by my side." Already she
has received over three hundred thousand dollars
in royalty on the memoirs which he wrote in
those last months of agony. Beautifully wrote
Richard Watson Gilder : —
" All's over now; here let our captain rest, —
The conflict ended, past men's praise and blame;
Here let him rest, alone with his great fame, —
Here in the city's heart he loved the best,
And where our sons his tomb may see
To make them brave as he: —
360 V> 8. GRANT.
" As brave as he, — he on whose iron arm
Our Greatest leaned, our gentlest and most wise,-
Leaned when all other help seemed mocking lies,
While this one soldier checked the tide of harm,
And they together saved the State,
And made it free and great."
JAMES A. GARFIELD.
T far from where I write is a tall gray
stone monument, in the form of a circular
tower, lined with various polished marbles, and ex-
quisite stained-glass windows. It stands on a hill-
top in the centre of three acres of green lawn, look-
ing out upon blue Lake Erie and the busy city of
Cleveland, Ohio.
Within this tower rests the body of one whom
the nation honors, and will honor in all time to
come ; one who was nurtured in the wilderness
that he might have a sweet, natural boyhood; who
studied in the school of poverty that he might sym-
pathize with the sons of toil ; who grew to an
ideal manhood, that other American boys might
learn the lessons of a grand life, and profit by
them.
In the little town of Orange, Ohio, James Abram
Garneld was born, November 19, 1831. The home
into which he came was a log cabin, twenty by
thirty feet, made of unhewn logs, laid one upon
another, to the height of twelve feet or more, the
space between the logs being filled with clay or
361
362 JAMES A. GABF1ELD.
mud. Three other children were in this home in
the forest already ; Mehetabel, Thomas, and .Mary.
Abram, the father, descended from Revolutionary
ancestors, was a strong-bodied, strong-brained man,
who moved from Worcester, Otsego County, New
York, to test his fortune in the wilderness. In his
boyhood, he had played with Eliza Ballon, de-
scended from Maturin Ballon, a Huguenot, from
France. She also at fourteen moved with her
family from New Hampshire, into the Ohio wilder-
ness. Abram was more attracted to Ohio for that
reason. They renewed the affection of their child-
hood, and were married February 3, 1821, settling
first in Newburg, near Cleveland, and later buying
eighty acres in Orange, at two dollars an acre. Here
their four children were born, seven miles from
any other cabin.
When the boy James was eighteen months old,
a shadow settled over the home in the woods. A
fire broke out in the forest, threatening to sweep
away the Gartield cabin. For two hours one hot
July day the father fought the flames, took a
severe cold, and died suddenly, saying to his wife,
" I have planted four saplings in these woods ; I
must now leave them to your care." He had kept
his precious ones from being homeless, only to
leave them fatherless. Who would have thought
then that one of these saplings would grow into a
mighty tree, admired by all the world ?
In a corner of the wheat-field, in a plain box, the
young husband was buried. What should the
JAMES A. GAEFIELD. g63
mother do with her helpless flock ? " Give them
away," said some of the relatives, or " bind them
out in far-away homes."
"No," said the brave mother, and put her
woman's hands to heavy work. She helped her
boy Thomas, then nine years old, to split rails and
fence in the wheat-field. She corded the wool of
her sheep, wove the cloth, and made garments for
her children. She sold enough land to pay off the
mortgage, because she could not bear to be in
debt, and then she and Mehetabel and Thomas
ploughed and planted, and waited in faith and
hope till the harvest came. When the food grew
meagre she sang to her helpful children, and
looked ever toward brighter days. And such
days usually come to those who look for them.
It was not enough to widow Garfield that her
children were decently clothed and fed in this
isolated home. They must be educated ; but how ?
A log school-house was finally erected, she wisely
giving a corner of her farm for the site. The
scholars sat on split logs for benches, and learned
to read and write and spell as best they could from
their ordinary teaching. James was now nearly
three, and went and sat all day on the hard
benches with the rest.
But a school-house was not sufficient for these
New England pioneers ; they must have a church
building where they could worship. Mrs. Gar-
field loved her Bible, and had taught her children
daily, so that James even knew its stories by
364 JAMES A. GAB FIELD.
heart, and many of its chapters. A church was
therefore organized in the log school-house, and
now they could work happily, year after year,
wondering perchance what the future would bring.
James began to show great fondness for read-
ing. As he lay on the cabin floor, by the big fire-
place, he read by its light his " English Reader,"
" Robinson Crusoe " again and again, and, later,
when he was twelve, " Josephus," and " Goodrich's
History of the United States." He had worked on
the farm for years ; now he must earn some money
for his mother by work for the neighbors. He
had helped his brother Thomas in enlarging the
house, and was sure that he could be a carpenter.
Going to a Mr. Trent, he asked for work.
" There is a pile of boards that I want planed,"
said the man, "and I will pay you one cent a
board for planing."
James began at once, and at the end of a long
day, to the amazement of Mr. Trent, he had planed
one hundred boards, each over twelve feet long,
and proudly carried home one dollar to his mother.
After this he helped to build a barn and a shed
for a potashery establishment for leeching ashes.
The manufacturer of the " black-salts " seemed to
take a fancy to the lad, and offered him work at
nine dollars a month and his board, which James
accepted. In the evenings he studied arithmetic
and read books about the sea. This arrangement
might have continued for some time had not the
daughter of the salt-maker remarked one evening
JAMES A. G Alt FIELD. 365
to her beau, as they sat in the room where James
was reading, " I should think it was time for hired
servants to be abed."
James had not realized how the presence of a
third party is apt to restrain the confidential conver-
sation of lovers. He was hurt and angered by the
words, and the next day gave up his work, and
went home to his mother, to receive her sympathy
and find employment elsewhere. Doubtless he was
more careful, all his life, from this circumstance,
lest he wound the feelings of others.
Soon after this he heard that his uncle in New-
burg was hiring wood-choppers. He immediately
went to see him, and agreed to cut one hundred
cords of wood, at twenty-five cents a cord. It was
a man's work, but the boy of sixteen determined to
do as much as a man. Each day he cut two cords,
and at last carried twenty -five dollars to his mother ;
a small fortune, it seemed to the earnest boy.
While he chopped wood he looked out wistfully
upon Lake Erie, recalled the sea stories which he
had read, and longed more than ever to become a
sailor. The Orange woods were growing too
cramped for him. He was restless and eager for
a broader life. It was the unrest of ambition,
which voiced itself twenty years later in an address
at Washington, D. C., to young men. "Occasion
cannot make spurs, young men. If you expect to
wear spurs, you must win them. If you wish to
use them, you must buckle them to your own heels
before you go into the fight. Any success you may
366 JAMES A. GAitFIELD.
achieve is not worth the having unless you fight
for it. Whatever you win in life you must conquer
by your own efforts ; and then it is yours — a part
of yourself. . . . Let not poverty stand as an ob-
stacle in your way. Poverty is uncomfortable, as I
can testify; but nine times out of ten the best
thing that can happen to a young man is to be tossed
overboard, and compelled to sink or swim for him-
self. In all my acquaintance I have never known
one to be drowned who was worth saving. ... To
a young man who has in himself the magnificent
possibilities of life, it is not fitting that he should
be permanently commanded ; he should be a com-
mander. You must not continue to be employed;
you must be an employer. You must be promoted
from the ranks to a command. There is something,
young men, that you can command; go and find it,
and command it. You can at least command a
horse and dray, can be generalissimo of them and
may carve out a fortune with them."
Mrs. Garfield, with her mother's heart, deprecated
a life at sea for her boy, and tried to dissuade him.
Through the summer he worked in the hay-field,
and then, the sea-fever returning, his mother wisely
suggested that he seek employment on Lake Erie
and see if he liked the life.
With his clothing wrapped in a bundle, he walked
seventeen miles to Cleveland, with glowing visions
of being a sailor. Reaching the wharf, he went on
board a schooner, and asked for work. A drunken
captain met him with oaths, and ordered him oft'
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 367
the boat. The first phase of sea life had been dif-
ferent from what he had read in the books, and he
turned away somewhat disheartened.
However, he soon met a cousin, who gave him
the opportunity of driving mules for a canal boat.
To walk beside slow mules was somewhat prosaic,
as compared with climbing masts in a storm, but
he accepted the position, receiving ten dollars a
month and his board. Says William M. Thayer,
in his " From Log-Cabin to the Wh^te House " :
" James appeared to possess a singular affinity for
the water. He fell into the water fourteen times
during the two or three months he served on the
canal boat. It was not because he was so clumsy
that he could not keep right side up, nor because
he did not understand the business ; rather, we
think, it arose from his thorough devotion to his
work. He gave more attention to the labor in hand
than he did to his own safety. He was one who
never thought of himself when he was serving
another. He thought only of what he had in hand
to do. His applicafion was intense, and his per-
severance royal."
After a few weeks he contracted fever and ague,
and went home to be cared for by his mother,
through nearly five months of illness. The sea-
fever had somewhat abated. Could he not go to
school again ? urged the mother. Thomas and she
could give him seventeen dollars ; not much, to be
sure, for some people, but much for the widow and
her son.
368 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
At last he decided to go to Geauga Seminary, at
Chester; a decision which took him to the presi-
dential chair. March 5, 1849, when he was eigh-
teen, James and his cousins started on foot for
Chester, carrying their housekeeping utensils, plates,
knives and forks, kettle, and the like ; for they
must board themselves. A small room was hired
for a pittance, four boys rooming together.
The seventeen dollars soon melted away, and
James found work in a carpenter's shop, where he
labored nights and mornings, and every Saturday.
Though especially fond of athletic games, he had
no time for these. The school library contained
one hundred and fifty volumes ; a perfect mine of
knowledge it seemed to the youth from Orange.
He read eagerly biography and history ; joined tin-
debating society, where, despite his awkward man-
ners and poor clothes, his eloquence soon attracted
attention ; Avent home to see his mother at the end
of the first term, happy and courageous, and re-
turned with ninepence in his pocket, to renew the
struggle for an education. The first Sunday, at
church, he put this ninepence into the contribution
box, probably feeling no poorer than before.
While at Chester, the early teaching of his
mother bore fruit, in his becoming a Christian,
and joining the sect called " Disciples." " Of
course," said Garfield, years later, "that settled
canal, and lake, and sea, and everything." A new
life had begun — a life devoted to the highest
endeavor.
JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 369
Each winter, while at Chester, he taught a dis-
trict school, winning the love of the pupils by his
enthusiasm and warm heart, and inciting them to
study from his love of books. He played with
them as though a boy like themselves, as he was,
in reality, and yet demanded and received per-
fect obedience. He "boarded around," as was the
custom, and thus learned more concerning both
parents and pupils than was always desirable,
probably ; but in every house he tried to stimulate
all to increased intelligence.
During his last term at the seminary, he met a
graduate of a New England college, who urged that
he also attend college ; told how often men had
worked their way through successfully, and had
come to prominence. Young Garfield at once be-
gan to study Latin and Greek, and at twenty years
of age presented himself at Hiram College, Ohio,
a small institution at that time, which had been
started by the " Disciples." He sought the princi-
pal, and asked to ring the bell and sweep the floors
to help pay his expenses. He took a room with
four other students, not a wise plan, except for one
who has will enough to study whether his compan-
ions work or play, and rose at five in the morning,
to ring his bell.
A lady who attended the college thus writes of
him : " I can see him even now, standing in the
morning with his hand on the bell-rope, ready to
give the signal calling teachers and scholars to en-
gage in the duties of the day. As we passed by,
370 JAMES A. GARFIELH.
entering the school-room, he had a cheerful word
for every one. He was probably the most popular
person in the institution. He was always good-nat-
ured, fond of conversation, and very entertaining.
He was witty and quick at repartee, but his jokes,
though brilliant and sparkling, were always harm-
less, and he never would willingly hurt another's
feelings.
" Afterward, he became an assistant teacher, and
while pursuing his classical studies, preparatory to
his college course, he taught the English branches.
He was a most entertaining teacher, — ready with
illustrations, and possessing in a marked degree
the power of exciting the interest of the scholars,
and afterward making clear to them the lessons.
In the arithmetic class there were ninety pupils,
and I cannot remember a time when there was any
flagging in the interest. There were never any
cases of unruly conduct, or a disposition to shirk.
With scholars who were slow of comprehension, or
to whom recitations were a burden on account of
their modest or retiring dispositions, he was spe-
cially attentive, and by encouraging words and
gentle assistance would manage to put all at their
ease, and awaken in them a confidence in them-
selves. ... He was a constant attendant at the reg-
ular meetings for prayer, and his vigorous exhorta-
tions and apt remarks upon the Bible-lessons were
impressive and interesting. There was a cordiality
in his disposition which won quickly the favor and
esteem of others. He had a happy habit of shak-
JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 371
ing hands, and would give a hearty grip which be-
tokened a kind-hearted feeling for all. . . .
" One of his gifts was that of mezzotint drawing,
and he gave instruction in this branch. I was one
of his pupils in this, and have now the picture of
a cross upon which he did some shading and put
on the finishing touches. Upon the margin is
written, in the hand of the noted teacher, his own
name and his pupil's. There are also two other
drawings, one of a large European bird on the
bough of a tree, and the other a church-yard scene
in winter, done by him at that time. In those days
the faculty and pupils were wont to call him 'the
second Webster,' and the remark was common,
'He will fill the White House yet.' In the Ly-
ceum, he early took rank far above the others as a
speaker and debater.
"During the month of June the entire school
went in carriages to their annual grove meeting at
Randolph, some twenty-five miles away. On this
trip he was the life of the party, occasionally
bursting out in an eloquent strain at the sight of a
bird or a trailing vine, or a venerable giant of the
forest. He would repeat poetry by the hour, hav-
ing a very retentive memory."
The college library contained about two thou-
sand volumes, and here Garfield read systemati-
cally and topically, a habit which continued through
life, and made him master of every subject which
he touched. Tennyson's poetry became, like the
Bible, his daily study.
372 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
Mr. J. M. Bundy, in his Life of Garfield, said,
years later, " His house at Washington is a work-
shop, in which the tools are always kept within
immediate reach. Although books overrun his
house from top to bottom, his library contains the
working material on which he mainly depends.
And the amount of material is .enormous. Large
numbers of scrap-books that have been accumulat-
ing for over twenty years in number and value —
made up with an eye to what either is or may
become useful, which would render the collection
of priceless value to the library of any first-class
newspaper establishment — are so perfectly ar-
ranged and indexed that their owner, with his all-
retentive memory, can turn in a moment to the
facts that may be needed for almost any conceiva-
ble emergency in debate. These are supplemented
by diaries that preserve Garfield's multifarious,
political, scientific, literary, and religious inquiries,
studies, and readings. And, to make the machin-
ery of rapid work complete, he has a large box,
containing sixty-three different drawers, each prop-
erly labelled, in which he places newspaper cut-
tings, documents, and slips of paper, and from
which he can pull out what he wants as easily as
an organist can play on the stops of his instru-
ment."
In Hiram College he formed an intellectual
friendship with a fellow-student to whose inspir-
ing help he testified gratefully to the end of his
life ; Miss Almeda A. Booth, eight years his
JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 373
senior, a brilliant and noble woman, pledged to
"virgin widowhood" by the death of the young
man to whom she was promised in marriage.
Twenty years later, Garfield said, in a memorial
address at Hiram College, " On my own behalf I
take this occasion to say that for her generous and
powerful aid, so often and so efficiently rendered,
for her quick and never failing sympathy, and for
her intelligent, unselfish, and unswerving friend-
ship, I owe her a debt of gratitude and affection
for the payment of which the longest term of life
would have been too short. ... I remember that
she and I were members of the class that began
Xenophon's ' Anabasis ' in the fall of 1852. Near
the close of that term I also began to teach in the
Eclectic [College], and, thereafter, like her, could
keep up my studies only outside of my own class
hours. In mathematics and the physical sciences
I was far behind her ; but we were nearly at the
same place in Greek and Latin, each having studied
them about three terms. She had made her home
at President Hayden's almost from the first ; and I
became a member of his family at the beginning of
the winter term of 1852-53. Thereafter, for nearly
two years, she and I studied together, and recited
in the same classes (frequently without other
associates) till we had nearly completed the classi-
cal course. . . .
" During the fall of 1853 she read one hundred
pages of Herodotus, and about the same of
Livy. During that term, also, Professors Dun-
374 JAMES A. GAItFIELD.
shee and Hull, Miss Booth, and I met at her room
two evenings of each week to make a joint transla-
tion of the Book of Romans. Professor Dunshee
contributed his studies of the German commenta-
tors De Wette and Tholuck; and each of the
translators made some special study for each
meeting. How nearly we completed the transla-
tion I do not remember ; but I do remember that
the contributions and criticisms of Miss Booth
were remarkable for suggestiveness and sound
judgment. Our work was more thorough than
rapid, for I find this entry in my diary for Decem-
ber 15, 1853 : ' Translation Society sat three hours
at Miss Booth's room, and agreed upon the transla-
tion of nine verses.'
" During the winter term of 1853-54 she con-
tinued to read Livy, and also the whole of
Demosthenes ' On the Crown.' During the spring
term of 1854 she read the ' Germania ' and ' Agric-
ola ' of Tacitus and a portion of Hesiod."
To Garfield she was another Margaret Fuller.
" I venture to assert that in native powers of mind,
in thoroughness and breadth of scholarship, in
womanly sweetness of spirit, and in the quantity
and quality of effective, unselfish work done, she
has not been excelled by any American woman.
... I can name twenty or thirty books which will
forever be doubly precious to me because they
were read and discussed in company with her. . . .
She was always ready to aid any friend with her
best efforts. When I was in the hurry of prepar-
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 375
ing for a debate with Mr. Denton, in 1858, she
read not less than eight or ten volumes, and made
admirable notes for me on those points which
related to the topics of discussion. In the autumn
of 1859 she read a large portion of Blackstone's
'Commentaries,' and enjoyed with keenest relish
the strength of the author's thought and the beauty
of his style. From the rich stores of her knowl-
edge she gave with unselfish generosity. The fore-
most students had no mannish pride that made
them hesitate to ask her assistance and counsel.
In preparing their orations and debates they
eagerly sought her suggestions and criticisms. . . .
" It is quite probable that John Stuart Mill has
exaggerated the extent to which his own mind and
works were influenced by Harriet Mill. I should
reject his opinion on that subject, as a delusion,
did I not know from my own experience, as well as
that of hundreds of Hiram students, how great a
power Miss Booth exercised over the culture and
opinions of her friends."
The influence of such a woman upon an intellect-
ual young man can scarcely be estimated, or over-
estimated. The world is richer and nobler for
such women. Garfield never forgot her influence.
The year he died, he said at a Williams College
banquet held in Cleveland, January 10, 1881 : " I
am glad to say, reverently, in the presence of the
many ladies here to-night, that I owe to a woman,
who has long since been asleep, perhaps a higher
debt intellectually than I owe to any one
376 JAMES A. G A It FIELD.
else. After that comes my debt to Williams Col-
lege."
He used to say, " Give me a log hut with only a
simple bench, Mark Hopkins on one end and I on
the other, and you may have all the buildings, ap-
paratus, and libraries without him."
After two years at Hiram College, Garfield de-
cided to enter some eastern college, and wrote
to Yale, Brown, and Williams. Their replies are
shown in his letter to a friend at this time. " Their
answers are now before me. All tell me I can
graduate in two years. They are all brief business
notes ; but President Hopkins concludes with this
sentence : ' If you come here, we shall be glad to
do what we can for you.' Other things being so
nearly equal, this sentence, which seems to be a
kind of friendly grasp of the hand, has settled the
question for me. I shall start for Williams next
week." A kind sentence gave to Williams a dis-
tinguished honor for all coming years.
Garfield had not only paid his way while at
Hiram, but he had saved three hundred and fifty
dollars for his course at Williams. Here he earned
money, as he had at Hiram, by teaching, and bor-
rowed a few hundreds from Dr. J. P. Kobinson of
Cleveland, Ohio, offering a life insurance policy as
security.
In college, says Dr. Hopkins, " as General Gar-
field was broad in his scholarship, so was he in his
sympathies. No one thought of him as a recluse
or as bookish. Not given to athletic spoils, he
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 377
was fond of them. His mind was open to the im-
pression of natural scenery, and, as his constitution
was vigorous, he knew we^_ the fine points on the
mountains around us. He was also social in his
disposition, both giving and inspiring confidence.
So true is this of his intercourse with the officers of
the college, as well as with others, that he was never
even suspected of anything low or trickish. . . .
General Garfield gave himself to study with a zest
and delight wholly uuknown to those who find in
it a routine. A religious man and a man of princi-
ple, he pursued of his own accord the ends pro-
posed by the institution. He was prompt, frank,
manly, social, in his tendencies ; combining active
exercise with habits of study, and thus did for
himself what it is the object of a college to en-
able every young man to do, — he made himself
a MAN."
When Garfield was at Williams, the slavery
question had become the exciting topic of the day.
Preston Brooks' attack on Charles Sumner had
aroused the indignation of the students, who called
a meeting, at which Garfield made an eloquent and
powerful speech. At his graduation in 1856, when
he was twenty-five, he delivered the metaphysical
oration, the highest honor awarded. He now re-
turned to Hiram College, having been appointed
professor of Greek and Latin. At once he began
his work with zest. He said later : " I have taken
more solid comfort in the thing itself, and received
more moral recompense and stimulus in after life
378 JAMES A. GABFIELD.
from capturing young men for an education than
from anything else in the world.
" As I look back over my life thus far, I think
of nothing that so fills me with pleasure as the
planning of these sieges, the revolving in my mind
of plans for scaling the walls of the fortress ; of
gaining access to the inner soul-life, and at last
seeing the besieged party won to a fuller apprecia-
tion of himself, to a higher conception of life and
of the part he is to bear in it. The principal guards
which I have found it necessary to overcome in
gaining these victories are the parents or guardi-
ans of the young men themselves. I particularly
remember two such instances of capturing young
men from their parents. Both of those boys are
to-day educators, of wide reputation, — one presi-
dent of a college, the other high in the ranks of
graded-school managers. Neither, in my opinion,
would to-day have been above the commonest walks
of life unless I, or some one else, had captured
him. There is a period in every young man's life
when a very small thing will turn him one way or
the other. He is distrustful of himself, and uncer-
tain as to what he should do. His parents are poor,
perhaps, and argue that he has more education
than they ever obtained, and that it is enough.
These parents are sometimes a little too anxious in
regard to what their boys are going to do when
they get through with their college course. They
talk to the young man too much, and I have noticed
that the boy who will make the best man is some-
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 379
times most ready to doubt himself. I always re-
member the turning period in my own life, and
pity a young man at this stage from the bottom of
my heart. One of the young men I refer to came
to me on the closing day of the spring term, and
bade me good-by at my study. I noticed that he
awkwardly lingered after I expected him to go, and
had turned to my writing again.
" ' I suppose you will be back again in the fall,
Henry,' I said, to fill in. the vacuum. He did not
answer, and, turning toward him, I noticed that his
eyes -were filled with tears, and that his counte-
nance was undergoing contortions of pain. He at
length managed to stammer out, 'No, I am not
coming back to Hiram any more. Father says I
have got education enough, and that he needs me
to work on the farm ; that education don't help
along a farmer any.'
" ' Is your father here ? ' I asked, almost as much
affected by the statement as the boy himself. He
was a peculiarly bright boy, — one of those strong,
awkward, bashful, blond, large-headed fellows,
such as make men. He was not a prodigy by any
means ; but he knew what work meant, and, when
he had won a thing by true endeavor, he knew its
value.
" ' Yes ; father is here, and is taking my things
home for good,' said the boy, more affected than
ever.
"'Well, don't feel badly,' I said. 'Please tell
him Mr. Garfield would like to see him at his study,
380 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
before he leaves the village. Don't tell him that it
is about you, but simply that I want to see him.'
In the course of half an hour the old gentleman, a
robust specimen of a Western Reserve Yankee,
came into the room and awkwardly sat down. I
knew something of the man before, and I thought
I knew how to begin. I shot right at the bull's-
eye immediately.
"'So you have come up to take Henry home
with you, have you ? ' The old gentleman answered,
1 Yes.' ' I sent for you because I wanted to have a
little talk with you about Henry's future. He is
coming back again in the fall, I hope ? '
" ' Wai, I think not. I don't reckon I can afford
to send him any more. He's got eddication enough
for a farmer already, and I notice that when they
git too much they sorter git lazy. Yer eddicated
farmers are humbugs. Henry's got so far 'long
now that he'd rather hev his head in a book than
be workin'. He don't take no interest in the stock
nor in the farm improvements. Everybody else is
dependent in this world on the farmer, and I think
that we've got too many eddicated fellows setting
around now for the farmers to support.'
" ' I am sorry to hear you talk so,' I said ; ' for
really I consider Henry one of the brightest and
most faithful students I have ever had. I have
taken a very deep interest in him. What I wanted
to say to you was, that the matter of educating
him has largely been a constant outgo thus far, but,
if he is permitted to come next fall term, he will
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 381
be far enough advanced so that he can teach school
in the winter, and begin to help himself and you
along. He can earn very little on the farm in the
winter, and he can get very good wages teaching.
How does that strike you ? '
" The idea was a new and good one to him. He
simply remarked, 'Do you really think he can
teach next winter ? '
" ' I should think so, certainly,' I replied. ' But,
if he cannot do so then, he can in a short time,
anyhow.'
" ' Wai, I will think on it. He wants to come
back bad enough, and I guess I'll have to let him.
I never thought of it that way afore.'
" I knew I was safe. It was the financial ques-
tion that troubled the old gentleman, and I knew
that would be overcome when Henry got to teach-
ing, and could earn his money himself. He would
then be so far along, too, that he could light his
own battles. He came all right the next fall, and,
after finishing at Hiram, graduated at an eastern
college."
One secret of Garfield's success in teaching was
his deep interest in the young. He said, " I feel a
profounder reverence for a boy than for a man. I
never meet a ragged boy of the street without feel-
ing that I may owe him a salute, for I know not
Avhat possibilities may be buttoned up under his
shabby coat. When I meet you in the full flush of
mature life, I see nearly all there is of you ; but
among these boys are the great men of the future,
382 JAMES A. GAEFIELD.
the heroes of the next generation, the philosophers,
the statesmen, the philanthropists, the great re-
formers and moulders of the next age. Therefore,
I say, there is a peculiar charm to me in the exhi-
bitions of young people engaged in the business of
an education."
He made himself a student with his students.
He said: "I shall give you a series of lectures
upon history, beginning next week. I do this not
alone to assist you ; the preparation for the lectures
will compel me to study history."
He was always a worker. " When I get into a
place that I can easily fill, I always feel like shov-
ing out of it into one that requires of me more
exertion."
His active mind was not content with teaching.
He delivered lectures in the neighboring towns on
geology, illustrated by charts of his own making ;
upon "Walter Scott;" Carlyle's "Frederick the
Great ; " the " Character of the German People ; "
government, and the topics of the times. He
preached almost every Sabbath in some Disciple
church. A year after his return from Williams
he was promoted to the presidency of Hiram
College.
In 1858, when he was twenty-seven, he married
Lucretia Rudolph, whom he had known at Geauga
Seminary, and who was his pupil in Latin and
Greek at Hiram. He had been engaged to her
four years previously, when he entered Williams,
she being a year his junior. Slje was his compan-
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 383
t
ion in study, as well as domestic life, and helped
him onward in his great career.
This same year, 1858, he entered his name as a
student at law, with a Cleveland firm, carrying on
his studies at home, and fitted himself for the bar
in the usual time devoted by those who have no
other work in hand.
The following year, having taken an active part
in the Republican campaign for John C. Fremont
for the presidency, Garfield was chosen State sena-
tor. The same year Williams College invited him
to deliver the master's oration on Commencement
day. On the journey thither, he visited Quebec,
taking with his wife their first pleasure trip_
Only eight years before this he was ringing the
bell at Hiram. Promotion had come rapidly, but
deservedly.
In the Legislature he naturally took a prominent
part. Lincoln had been elected and had issued his
call for seventy-five thousand men. Garfield, in an
eloquent speech, moved, "That Ohio contribute
twenty thousand men, and three million dollars, as
the quota of the State." The motion was enthusi-
astically carried.
Governor Dennison appointed Garfield colonel of
the Forty-second Ohio Regiment, and he left the
Senate for the battlefield, nearly one hundred
Hiram students enlisting under him. At once he
began to study military tactics in earnest. He
organized a school among the officers, and kept the
men at drill till they were efficient in the art of
384 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
t
war. January 10, 1862, he fought the battle of
Middle Creek, with eleven hundred men, driving
General Marshall out of Eastern Kentucky, with
five thousand men. The battle raged for five hours,
sometimes a desperate hand-to-hand fight. General
Buell said in his official report of Garfield and his
regiment : " They have overcome formidable diffi-
culties in the character of the country, the condi-
tion of the roads, and the inclemency of the sea-
son, and, without artillery, have in several engage-
ments, terminating in the battle of Middle Creek,
driven the enemy from his intrenched positions
and forced him back into the mountains, with the
loss of a large amount of baggage and stores, and
many of his men killed and captured. These ser-
vices have called into action the highest qualities
of a soldier — fortitude, perseverance, and courage."
After this battle, President Lincoln made Garfield
a brigadier-general.
Says Mr. Bundy : " Having cleared out Hum.
phrey Marshall's forces, Garfield moved his com-
mand to Piketon, one hundred and twenty miles
above the mouth of the Big Sandy, from which
place he covered the whole region about with expe-
ditions, breaking up rebel camps and perfecting his
work. Finally, in that poor and wretched country,
his supplies gave out, and, as usual, taking care of
the most important matter himself, he went to the
Ohio Kiver for supplies, got them, seized a steamer,
and loaded it. But there was an unprecedented
freshet, navigation was very perilous, and no cap.
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 385
tain or pilot could be induced to take charge of the
boat. Garfield at once availed himself of his
canal-boat experience, took charge of the boat,
stood at the helm for forty out of forty -eight hours,
piloted the steamer through an untried channel
full of dangerous eddies and wild currents, and
saved his command from starvation."
Later, Garfield became chief of General Kose-
crans' staff, was in the dreadful battle of Chicka-
mauga, and was made major-general "for gallant
and meritorious services " in that battle. Eosecrans
said : " All my staff merited my warm approbation
for ability, zeal, and devotion to duty ; but I am
sure they will not consider it invidious if I espe-
cially mention Brigadier-General Garfield, ever
active, prudent, and sagacious. I feel much in-
debted to him for both counsel and assistance in
the administration of this army. He possesses the
energy and the instinct of a great commander."
In the summer of 1862 the Nineteenth Congres-
sional District of Ohio elected Garfield to Congress.
He hesitated about leaving the army, but, being
urged by his friends that it was his duty to serve
his country in the House of Representatives, he
took his seat December, 1863. Among such men
as Colfax, Washburn, Conkling, Allison, and
others, he at once took an honorable position. He
was made chairman of military affairs, then of
banking and currency, of appropriations, and other
committees.
On the slavery question he had always been
386 JAMES A. GAHFIELD.
outspoken. He said, on the constitutional amend-
ment abolishing slavery : " All along the coast of
our political sea these victims of slavery lie like
stranded wrecks broken on the headlands of free-
dom. How lately did its advocates, with impious
boldness, maintain it as God's own ; to be vener-
ated and cherished as divine ! It was another and
higher form of civilization. It was the holy
evangel of America dispensing its mercies to a
benighted race, and destined to bear countless
blessings to the wilderness of the "West. In its
mad arrogance it lifted its hand to strike down
the fabric of the Union, and since that fatal day it
has been ' a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth.'
Like the spirit that Jesus cast out, it has, since
then, been ' seeking rest and finding none.' It has
sought in all the corners of the republic to find
some hiding-place in which to shelter itself from
the death it so richly deserves. It sought an
asylum in the untrodden territories of the West,
but with a whip of scorpions indignant freemen
drove it thence. I do not believe that a loyal man
can now be found who would consent that it should
again enter them. It has no hope of harbor there.
It found no protection or favor in the hearts or
consciences of the freemen of the republic, and has
fled for its last hope of safety behind the shield of
the Constitution. We propose to follow it there,
and drive it thence, as Satan was exiled from
heaven. ... To me it is a matter of great sur-
prise that gentlemen on the other side should wish
JANES A. GARFIELD. 387
to delay the death of slavery. I can only account
for it on the ground of long continued familiarity
and friendship. . . . Has she not betrayed and
slain men enough ? Are they not strewn over a
thousand battle-fields ? Is not this Moloch already
gorged with the bloody feast ? Its best friends
know that its final hour is fast approaching. The
avenging gods are on its track. Their feet are not
now, as of old, shod with wool, nor slow and
stately stepping, but winged like Mercury's to bear
the swift message of vengeance. No human power
can avert the final catastrophe."
On the currency he spoke repeatedly and ear-
nestly. He carefully studied English financial
history, and mastered the French and German lan-
guages that he might study their works on political
economy and finance. Says Captain F. H. Mason,
late of the Forty-second Ohio Regiment, in his
sketch of Garfield, "In May, 1868, when the
country was rapidly drifting into a hopeless confu-
sion of ideas on financial subjects, and when
several prominent statesmen had come forward
with specious plans for creating ' absolute money '
by putting the government stamp upon bank notes,
and for paying off with this false currency the
bonds which the nation had solemnly agreed to
pay in gold, General Garfield stood up almost
single-handed and faced the current with a speech
which any statesman of this century might be
proud to have written on his monument. It em-
braced twenty -three distinct but concurrent topics,
388 JAMES A. GAEFIELD.
and occupied in delivering an entire day's session
of the House."
"For my own part," he said, "my course is
taken. In view of all the facts of our situation, of
all the terrible experiences of the past, both at
home and abroad, and of the united testimony of
the wisest and bravest statesmen who have lived
and labored during the past century, it is my firm
conviction that any considerable increase of the
volume of our inconvertible paper money will
shatter public credit, will paralyze public industry,
and oppress the poor ; and that the gradual resto-
ration of our ancient standard of value will lead
us by the safest and surest paths to national pros-
perity and the steady pursuits of peace."
Again he said : " I for one am not willing that
my name shall be linked to the fate of a paper
currency. I believe that any party which commits
itself to paper money will go down amid the gen-
eral disaster, covered with the curses of a ruined
people.
"Mr. Speaker, I remember that on the monu-
ment of Queen Elizabeth, where her glories were
recited and her honors summed up, among the last
and the highest recorded as the climax of her
honors was this : that she had restored the money
of her kingdom to its just value. And when this
House shall have done its work, when it shall have
brought back values to their proper standard, it will
deserve a monument."
On the tariff question, General Garfield took the
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 389
side of protection, yet was no extremist. His oft
reiterated belief was, "As an abstract theory, the
doctrine of free trade seems to be universally true,
but as a question of practicability, under a govern-
ment like ours, the protective system seems to be
indispensable."
He said in Congress : " We have seen that one
extreme school of economists would place the price
of all manufactured articles in the hands of foreign
producers by rendering it impossible for our manu-
facturers to compete with them ; while the other
extreme school, by making it impossible for the
foreigner to sell his competing wares in our mar-
ket, would give the people no immediate check
upon the prices which our manufacturers might
fix for their products. I disagree with both these
extremes. I hold that a properly adjusted compe-
tition between home and foreign products is the
best gauge by which to regulate international trade.
Duties should be so high that our manufacturers
can fairly compete with the foreign product, but
not so high as to enable them to drive out the for-
eign article, enjoy a monopoly of the trade, and
regulate the price as they please. This is my doc-
trine of protection. If Congress pursues this line
of policy steadily, we shall, year by year, approach
more nearly to the basis of free trade, because we
shall be more nearly able to compete with other
nations on equal terms. I am for a protection
which leads to ultimate free trade. I am for that
free trade which can only be achieved through a
390 JAMES A. GAR FIELD.
reasonable protection. ... If all the kingdoms of
the world should become the kingdom of the Trincr
of Peace, then I admit that universal free trade
ought to prevail. But that blessed era is yet too
remote to be made the basis of the practical legis-
lation of to-day. We are not yet members of ' the
parliament of man, the federation of the world.'
For the present, the world is divided into separate
nationalities ; and that other divine command still
applies to our situation, ' He that provideth not for
his own household has denied the faith, and is
worse than an infidel,' and until that latter era
arrives patriotism must supply the place of univer-
sal brotherhood."
Again he said : " Those arts that enable our
nation to rise in the scale of civilization bring
their blessings to all, and patriotic citizens will
cheerfully bear a fair share of the burden neces-
sary to make their country great and self-sustain-
ing. I will defend a tariff that is national in its
aims, that protects and sustains those interests
without which the nation cannot become great
and self-sustaining. ... So important, in my
view, is the ability of the nation to manufact-
ure all these articles necessary to arm, equip, and
clothe our people, that if it could not be secured
in any other way I would vote to pay money out
of the federal treasury to maintain government
iron and steel, woollen and cotton mills, at what-
ever cost. Were we to neglect these great inter-
ests and depend upon other nations, in what a
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 391
condition of helplessness would we find ourselves
when we should be again involved in war with the
very nations on whom we were depending to fur-
nish us these supplies ? The system adopted by
our fathers is wiser, for it so encourages the great
national industries as to make it possible at all
times for our people to equip themselves for war,
and at the same time increase their intelligence
and skill so as to make them better fitted for all
the duties of citizenship in war and in peace. We
provide for the common defence by a system which
promotes the general welfare. ... I believe that
we ought to seek that point of stable equilibrium
somewhere between a prohibitory tariff on the one
hand and a tariff that gives no protection on the
other. What is that point of stable equilibrium ?
In my judgment, it is this ; a rate so high that for-
eign producers cannot flood our markets and break
down our home manufacturers, but not so high as
to keep them altogether out, enabling our manu-
facturers to combine and raise the prices, nor so
high as to stimulate an unnatural and unhealthy
growth of manufactures.
"In other words, I would have the duty so
adjusted that every great American industry can
fairly live and make fair profits, and yet so low
that, if our manufacturers attempted to put up
prices unreasonably, the competition from abroad
would come in and bring down prices to a fair
rate."
On special occasions, such as his eulogies on
392 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
Lincoln and General Thomas, and on Decoration
Day at Arlington Heights, Garfield was very elo-
quent. At the latter place, he said : " If silence is
ever golden, it must be here, beside the graves of
fifteen thousand men, whose lives were more sig-
nificant than speech, and whose death was a poem
the music of which can never be sung. With
words, we make promises, plight faith, praise vir-
tue. Promises may not be kept ; plighted faith
may be broken ; and vaunted virtue may be only
the cunning mask of vice. We do not know one
promise these men made, one pledge they gave,
one word they spoke ; but we do know they
summed up and perfected, by one supreme act,
the highest virtues of men and citizens. For love
of country they accepted death, and thus resolved
all doubts, and made immortal their patriotism and
their virtue.
"For the noblest man that lives there still re-
mains a conflict. He must still withstand the
assaults of time and fortune; must still be as-
sailed with temptations before which lofty natures
have fallen. But with these, the conflict ended,
the victoiy was won, when death stamped on them
the great seal of heroic character, and closed a
record which j-ears can never blot."
Professor R A. Hinsdale, the intimate friend of
Garfield, says, in his "Hiram College Memorial,"
" General Garfield's readiness on all occasions has
often been remarked. Probably some have attrib-
uted this readiness to the inspiration of genius.
JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 393
The explanation lies partly in his genius, but much
more in his indefatigable work. He treasured up
knowledge of all kinds. ' You never know,' he
would say, ' how soon you will need it.' Then
he forecasted occasions, and got ready to meet
them. One hot day in July, 1876, he brought to
his Washington house an old copy of The Congres-
sional Globe. Questioned, he said, 'I have been
told, confidentially, that Mr. Lamar is going to
make a speech in the House on general politics, to
influence the presidential canvass. If he does, I
shall reply to him. Mr. Lamar was a member of
the House before the war ; and I am going to read
some of his old speeches, and get into his mind.'
Mr. Lamar made his speech August 2, and Mr.
Garfield replied August 4. Men expressed sur-
prise at the fulness and completeness of the reply,
delivered on such short notice. But to one know-
ing his habits of mind, especially to one who had
the aforesaid conversation with him, the whole
matter was as light as day. His genius was em-
phatically the genius of preparation."
Both in Congress and in the army Garfield gave
a portion of each day to the classics, especially to
his favorite, Horace. He was always an omnivo-
rous reader.
In 1880, he was elected United States senator.
After the election he said, "During the twenty
years that I have been in public life, almost eight-
een of it in the Congress of the United States, I
have tried to do one thing. Whether I was mis-
394 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
taken or otherwise, it has been the plan of my life
to follow my convictions, at whatever personal cost
to myself. I have represented for many years a
district in Congress whose approbation I greatly
desired; but, though it may seem, perhaps, a little
egotistical to say it, I yet desired still more the
approbation of one person, and his name was Gar-
field. He is the only man that I am compelled to
sleep with, and eat with, and live with, and die
with; and if I could not have his approbation I
should have had bad companionship."
All these years the home life had been helpful
and beautiful. Of his seven children, two were
sleeping in the Hiram church-yard. Five, Harry,
James, Mollie, Irvin, and Abrani, made the Wash-
ington home a place of cheer in winter, and
the summer home, at Mentor, Ohio, a feAv miles
from Hiram, a place of rest and pleasure. Here
Garfield, beloved by his neighbors, ploughed and
sewed and reaped, as when a boy. His mother
lived in his family, happy in his success.
When the national Republican convention met
in June, 1880, at Chicago, the names of several
presidential candidates came before the people, —
Grant, Elaine, and others. Garfield nominated
John Sherman, of Ohio, in a chaste and eloquent
speech. He said : " I have witnessed the extraor-
dinary scenes of this convention with deep solic-
itude. No emotion touches my heart more quickly
than a sentiment in honor of a great and noble
character; but, as I sat on these seats and wit-
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 395
nessed these demonstrations, it seemed to me you
were a human ocean in a tempest.
" I have seen the sea lashed into fury and tossed
into spray, and its grandeur moves the soul of the
dullest man ; but I remember that it is not the bil-
lows but the calm, level of the sea from which all
heights and depths are measured. When the storm
has passed and the hour of calm settles on the
ocean, when the sunlight bathes its smooth surface,
then the astronomer and surveyor takes the level
from which he measures all terrestrial heights and
depths.
" Gentlemen of the convention, your present
temper may not mark the healthful pulse of our
people. When our enthusiasm has passed, when
the emotions of this hour have subsided, we shall
find that calm level of public opinion, below the
storm, from which the thoughts of a mighty people
are to be measured, and by which their final action
will be determined. Not here in this brilliant cir-
cle, where fifteen thousand men and women are
assembled, is the destiny of the Republican party
to be decreed. Not here, where I see the enthusi-
astic faces of seven hundred and fifty-six delegates,
waiting to cast their votes into the urn and deter-
mine the choice of the republic, but by four million
Republican firesides, where the thoughtful voters,
with wives and children about them, with the calm
thoughts inspired by love of home and country,
with the history of the past, the hopes of the
future, and reverence for the great men who have
396 JAMES A. GARFIELD.
adorned and blessed our nation in days gone by
burning in their hearts, — there God prepares the
verdict which will determine the wisdom of our
work to-night. Not in Chicago, in the heat of
June, but at the ballot-boxes of the republic, in
the quiet of November, after the silence of delib-
erate judgment, will this question be settled."
The thousands were at fever-heat hour after hour,
in their intense excitement. After thirty-four inef-
fectual ballots, on the thirty-fifth, fifty votes were
given for Garfield. The tide had turned at last.
The delegates of State after State gathered around
the man from Ohio, holding their flags over him,
while the bands played, " Rally round the flag,
boys," and fifteen thousand people shouted their
thanksgiving for the happy choice. Outside the
great hall, cannons were fired, and the crowded
streets sent up their cheers. From that moment
Garfield belonged to the nation, and was its idol.
On March 4, 1881, in the presence of a hundred
thousand people, the boy born in the Orange wil-
derness was inaugurated President of the United
States. None of us who were present will ever
forget the beauty of his address from the steps of
the national Capitol, or the kiss given to white-
haired mother and devoted wife at the close.
Afterward, the great procession, three hours in
passing a given point, was reviewed by President
Garfield from a stand erected in front of the White
House.
Four months after this scene, on July 2, 1881,
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 397
the nation was thrilled with sorrow. As General
Garfield and his Secretary of State, James G.
Elaine, aria in arm, were entering the Baltimore
& Potomac Railroad depot, two pistol shots were
fired ; one passing through Garfield's coat-sleeve,
the other into his body. He fell heavily to the
floor, and was borne to the White House. The
assassin was "Charles Guiteau, a half-crazed aspirant
for office, entirely unknown to the President. The
man was hanged.
Through four long months the nation prayed,
and hoped, and agonized for the life of its beloved
President. Gifts poured in from every part of the
Union, but gifts were of no avail. On September
5, Garfield was carried to Elberon, Long Branch,
~New Jersey, where, in the Francklyn Cottage, he
seemed to revive as he looked out upon the sea,
the sea he had longed for in his boyhood. The
nation took heart. But two weeks later, at thirty-
five minutes past ten, on the evening of September
19, the anniversary of the battle of Chickamauga,
the President passed from an unconscious state to
the consciousness of immortality. At ten minutes
past ten he had said to General Swaim, who was
standing beside him, as he put his hand upon his
heart, " I have great pain here."
The whole world sympathized with America in
her great sorrow. Queen Victoria telegraphed to
Mrs. Garfield : " Words cannot express the deep
sympathy I feel with you at this terrible moment.
May God support and comfort you, as he alone can."
398 JAMES A. GAltFIELD.
On September 21, the body of the President was
taken to Washington. At the Princeton Station,
three hundred students from the college, with un-
covered heads, strewed the track and covered the
funeral car with flowers. At the Capitol, where he
had so recently listened to the cheers of the people
at his inauguration, one hundred thousand passed in
silence before his open coffin. The casket was cov-
ered with flowers ; one wreath bearing a card from
England's queen, with the words : " Queen Victoria,
to the memory of the late President Garfield, an
expression of her sorrow and sympathy with .Mrs.
Garfield and the American nation."
The body was borne to Cleveland, the whole
train of cars being draped in black. Fifty thou-
sand persons assembled at the station, and followed
the casket to a catafalque on the public square.
During the Sabbath, an almost countless throng
passed beside the beloved dead. On Monday, Sep-
tember 26, through beautiful Euclid Avenue, the
body was borne six miles, to its final resting-place.
Every house was draped in mourning. Streets
were arched with exquisite flowers on a background
of black. One city alone, Cincinnati, sent two car-
loads of flowers. Among the many floral designs
was a ladder of white immortelles, with eleven
rounds, bearing the words : " Chester," " Hiram.''
" Williams," " Ohio Senate," " Colonel," " General."
" Congress," " United States Senate," " President,"
" Martyr."
After appropriate exercises, the sermon being
JAMES A. GARFIELD. 399
preached by Eev. Isaac Errett, D.D., of Cincin-
nati, according to a promise made years before,
the casket, followed by a procession five miles long,
was carried to the cemetery. It was estimated
that a quarter of a million people were gathered
along the streets ; not idle sight-seers, but men
and women who loved the boy, and revered the
man who had come to distinguished honor in their
midst.
Not only in Cleveland were memorial services
held. The Archbishop of Canterbury spoke touch-
ing words in London. In Liverpool, in Manches-
ter, in Glasgow, and hundreds of other cities, public
services were held. Messages of condolence were
sent from many of the crowned heads of Europe.
Under the white stone monument in Lake View
Cemetery, the statesman has been laid to rest.
For centuries the tomb will tell to the thousands
upon thousands who visit it the story of struggle
and success ; of work, of hope, of courage, of de-
votion to duty. Like Abraham Lincoln, Garfield
was born in a log cabin, battled with poverty, was
honest, great-hearted, a lover of America, and, like
him, a martyr to the republic. To the world both
deaths seemed unbearable calamities, but nations,
like individuals, are chastened by sorrow, and learn
great lessons through great trials. " Now we know
in part ; but then shall we know even as also we
are known."
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